Hasir and Inigo left the building and walked through the walkway; Hasir told Inigo to stow the armor away since it was far too valuable to wear out in the open. He said it might get inadvertantly tarnished. Inigo ablidged, took of his armor and placed it into his bag. Not liking the feeling of being stark naked, he took out a white miner's shirt and brown trousers and put them on.
Seeing his friend devoid of the armor, he smiled. His smile faltered slightly as he thought of the impressive armor.
"It would've been nice if you kept the armor on, altough, I do agree on the fact that it might get dirty and the unneccesary loudness of it might garner some unneeded attion." He shrugged, "still, I can't wait to see that armor in action. It 's so much better than my previous armor, which was falling apart at the seams, quite literally because the leather strips were hanging off of it like boughs of some sad willow tree."
Hasir nodded as he exited the alleyway and was assaulted by scents of various flavors and colorful canopies selling various foods and supplies. As he and Inigo walked through the tiny market, they saw merchants selling jewelry, an assortment of vegetable and plant seeds and a blacksmithing merchant who had various pieces of weaponry on display. They passed by the stall and saw a jet black crown with rubies as red as crimson nirnroots set into the crown of the helmet.
Inigo cautioned Hasir, but the argonian became transfixed, almost mesmerized by the black crown and started walking, as if in a trace, toward it. He looked over his shoudler and theorized that the blue khajiit wasbattling his own thoughts which, much like his fleas, must have sunk its teeth into his fur, preventing him from making even the slightest movement, rooting him to the spot, still as a statue. Hasir tutted and reached for the crown.
The merchant, a breton with shoulder length auburn hair approached Hasir and started telling him off for touching that which wasn't his. Hasir cowed under his firey gaze.
"Sorry, I was just admiring the craftsmanship. I meant no offense." He said, tail between his legs. "Erm... if I am to be so bold, where in Tamriel did you get this?" He asked, gesturing to the helmet
The merchant's exxpression changed from anger tounderstanding.
"Sorry for assuming you where a thief. I received this from a dunmer. Who was he?" He said, reading Hasir's expression, "I have no idea. Never saw his face."
Hasir asked how much it would be for the crown. The merchant said he wouldn't sell the crown to just about anyone. He, however told the argonian that the nearby village of Rawl'kha is looking for a new shaman since their old one is retiring soon. He tod the Argonian that if he would convince them to make him the new shaman, then he would be able to purchase the crown.
Hasir ablidged and walked though past the stalls and through the city gates with Inigo. The khajiit knew there was something afoot with this merchant but followed Hasir like an obedient, if wary, puppy follows its owner.
After a short walk, they reached the city of Rawl'kha and found the shaman's hut near a stone arched bridge that spanned the river flowing between some buildings whose style that neither the khajiit nor the argonian had seen before. Inigo motioned Hasir to knock on the door. Hasir, apprehensive of the owner's attitude upon be encroached upon, shrank back.
Groaning, Inigo approached the strange looking hut and kocked. Standing in the doorway was a white-furred khajiit with milky white eyes.
"Yes? How can this one be of service?"
Inigo gulped down his fears and trepidations. He let his instincts guide him as his feelings would cloud his judgement.
"Hello. My friend and I would like to ask you... Are you the resident shaman here? I am wondering because we've a task to undergo as described by a fellow Elsweyrian.
The khajiit nodded and smiled. Inigo saw his fur was beginning to mat from lack of maintainence.
"Who was this 'Elsweyrian'? Never mind, Kamali doesn't wish to know. He will say this, though, who will replace him as the new shaman, Kamali wonders.
Cautiously, the argonian walked forward and introduced himself.
"I will be taking your place. The black crown is a fitting prize for a shaman. Let me ask, if I may, did you wear the crown or have need of it in your shamanistic rituals?"
Kamali shook his head; making his black dreadlocks swayi in the dustblown wind.
"No, this one doesn't but some say that the black crown was once worn by Alkosh. It was he that used the crown to control time. He had trained the shamans to control time, chronomancers he called them. One such chronomancer was Molag, the traitor cat. It is rumored that he defaced Alkosh's gold cown and turned it black as night. He used it to turn Alkosh's servants against him; brainwashing them.
A fight ensued in which there were rivers of blood staining the peaceful sands beyond the stars and Alkosh banished Molag to what some say is a twisted version of Nirn where the sky burns with a unnatural fire. The raven crown, what the cursed artifact came to be called is supposed to be a reminder and remainder of Molag's terrible power. Beware, if you wish to walk the path of the starry sands, and you don that crown, it may change you, even your soul, to be as black as an ice dragon's."
Hasir did not look phazed one bit by this grave bit of information. Kamali smiled, gave the argonian a warning glace and summoned up the last of his powers to open a portal to the testing grounds. Inigo walk toward the shimmering portal made of swirling sand, but the white khajiit shook his head.
"No, the scaled one has to face his shaman trails alone as this one has. Kamali hopes Inigo understands."
The blue khajiit look toward the steadily closing portal and nodded solemnly.
"I hope you are successful." He said, to no one in particular and went back to the hut, only to find that the khajiit and the hut had been swallowed by the great sand dragon known as the desert.
Replies