Hasir proceeded out the door and started down the mountain with his armor clanking as he walked; he hated how it was three sizes
too big for him so he took it off and stored it in his bag along with the weapons Quinchal had given him. Hasir went down to the
docks and was surprised to see Quinchal standing there grinning at him,
"Where do you thinking you're going?" Quinchal asked the stunned Argonian
Hasir told him that he did not know that he was going wherever the wind takes him. Quinchal laughed at this, shaking his head,
Hasir... Hasir... Hasir, always too modest for your own good. I know you are going to search for your parents." He laughed again at
the Argonian's screwed up face, "Did you really think I was born yesterday? I know those two Argonians that brought you here are
not your parents, but you did leave a brother on that ship, did you not?"
Hasir asked him how he knew this. Quinchal held up a hand and told him he would explain later. Now, it was time for another helping
of hist sap. Hasir begrudgingly followed Quinchal as they marched through the ornate red and yellow doors of the temple.
When they got to the statue, the dragon spewed amber liquid again; Quinchal told Hasir to lick the strands of liquid hanging off the
statue like vines from a tree. Hasir did so and found that he now had the body of a three year old argonian. Quinchal reminded Hasir
that he would need to make a pilgrimage here every few years, either that or, if he was lucky, he could find another tree elsewhere
that offered the same benefits and that he was to drink from that until he was fully grown. Hasir thanked him and they walked out of
the temple and to the docks. Once there, they boarded Quinchal's ship. The tsaesci told Hasir that his parents were most likely on
Morrowind in a little swamp hamlet known as Gnaar Mok; he should search there.
They sailed in silence for a time and them Quinchal turned to Hasir, who sat in the seat behind the tsaesci,
"Yes, the great Ka'po'tun dragon told me all about how your homeland was overwhelmed by plague and about the flight of your
parents to another place; it also told me about how your aunt and uncle saved you before the air became too toxic." Hasir listened
intently even though he was still confused by all of this, he was sure all would be revealed once they got to Gnaar Mok."
Hasir looked utterly confused,
"Gnaar Mok, what's that?" He asked, scratchling his head
Quinchal stared at him and smacked him on the back of the head,
"Are you stupid? Gnaar Mok is where your parents are. Akatosh's spines, you can be so thick sometimes!"
Hasir recoiled from the impact and rubbed the spot when he had smacked him,
"Sorry, Quinchal you're right, forgive me for being a dumb hatchling who does not know his geography." Hasir said, tail stuck
between his legs. Quinchal said that he will be going to Morrowind and might stop by Gnaar Mok if he wanted to tag along. Hasir
decided to go with the tsaesci instead of just staying put while he swam in his murky waters. Quinchal started the motor and pushed
off from the dock.
After three days of sailing, the Crimson Fang found itself in familiar waters. The ship docked near a small sea port town. Hasir and
Quinchal disembarked. When Hasir stepped on the dock, he realized how different this was from Akavir, there were no pagodas or
temples here, instead, there were strange trees that looked like giant mushrooms and buildings made of stone with thatched roofs.
Quinchal slithered from the ship, down the dock to where Hasir stood and slapped the back of the lizard's head, "Hasir, this is not
the time to gaze at the scenery, we have a job to do, we're here to find your parents, remember?" Hasir gave the tsaesci a weird
look; he sighed heavily and told Hasir that his real parents were werewolves and said that when the Hist birthed him in that pool, his
parent's blood soaked into his scales and thus gave Hasir both vampirism and lycanthropy. He said the two diseases went to war with
each other and ultimately lycanthropy won out; effectively ousting the vampirism from his body.
"Yeah, yeah, I got it, we need to find my parents in Gnaar Mok, er, which direction is that exactly?" He asked
"Hasir, don't be so hard-headed. I would hazard a guess that Gnaar Mok is northwest of our current position. We can take a silt
strider there." He said proudly, knowing full well that the Argonian would forget his primal task.
The Argonian and tsaesci walked past the mushroom trees to a door that led to a nearby seaport. The tsaesci stepped aside and
Hasir closed his clawws around a door handle and pushed. A truly bustling town met Hasir's eyes; a town was an understaement, it
was more like a seaport that not even the emperor would park his ship. Hasir turned his head to Quinchal. The people that live here
must be poor as shit. he whispered. Quinchal heard this and said the townsfolk were indeed poor. When the tsaesci said that, Hasir
had a thought swim in his mind, so he turned and cast the line of speech to the tsaesci, who caught it in his mind.
"Quinchal, you never said you visited Vvardenfell before." He was surprised by the fact that the snake had never spoke on the
matter. Quinchal said that he came to Vvardenfell a long time ago with his fellow tsaesci in the first Akaviri invasion of Tamriel.
The two creatures passed an elf asking for his lost ring. The duo said they haven't seen it. They continued past Arrile's Tradehouse,
a more impressive counterpart to the rundown houses. Only stopping for a quick glance at each of the buildings, they passed over
a bridge that was manned by a guard by the bridge's entrance. They walked past him and heard an ear splitting scream.
"Aaaaiiiiieeee!"
Tarhiel, a dumbass wizard plummeted from the sky. Upon investigation of his corpse, Hasir found two scrolls and an iron sword.
"I guess, I'll just save these for later, these scrolls might come in handy some day." He plunged the iron sword deep into Tarhiel's
corpse. "stupid wizard." He followed the tsaesci past more mushroom trees with two smaller mushrooms growing out of it. Quinchal
put a hand up to signal his companion to stop, he then gestured to the plant.
"These," He said, touxhing the small fungi "are Violet Capurnicus and Hypha Facia; these can be really useful for an alchemist, they
can be combined with other ingredients to make a healing potion.
"What are these other ingredients?" Inquired Hasir
"I know not what they are." Quinchal stated, motioning for the gang to keep moving. After a long and winding path they found a silt
strider port across the way from an old tomb. The driver, a male dunmer that went by the name of Mikar Halvi greeted them with a
warm smile and asked them where they would be headed. Hasir told the man their destination, paid the required gold and he and
the Tsaesci climbed aboard the giant shellbug. The driver whipped the silt strider to life, causing it to rise high in the air.
Hasir could feel the seat, which was really a depression in the bug's shell, roar with thunder as the juices inside the bug propelled
it forward. He and the other creature headed for Tel Aruhn. They were in the air for what seemed like four hours before the bug's
feelers found land. The duo disembarked.
Hasir thanked the silt strider and her driver as it flew serenly back towards the bitter coast. Quinchal spoke, almost as if he knew the
area. Hasir just looked around him as he continued to let his eyes soak in Vvardenfell's scenery.
Quinchal gazed over at the two small islands and gestured to the largest of the two,
"See that island over there? That is called Yansirramus and as you may or may not know it is one of the many twisted machinations
of the many daedra, well, all except for Hircine; many of them are monuments to the father of domination and the enemy of Tamriel.
When they reached the two islands after an hour of swimming, they could see various pale red and grey buildings twisted towards
the sky, aside from building, there were also small red and grey altars used to pray to daedric princes. The argonian and tsaesci
passed by evil looking altars and buildings that looked like they belonged in the realm of Oblivion. They walked a little more until
they saw a dark elf sitting on one of the ruined altars,
"I heard you need to get to Gnaar Mok," The Argonian and Tsaesci nodded, "Right, well, I can send you there but it will cost you."
The Argonian asked how much this trip would cost. The dunmer asked what he needed to go to Gnaar Mok for. He said it was none of
her business. She extended her hand, palm up and drawled out,
"Very well, the trip will be one hundred septims."
Hasir handed over the septims; so too did Quinchal. Aren Marin, the name the dunmer went by, positioned her oar at an odd angle
and pushed off of the bottom of the murky lake. Within minutes, the daedric ruin fell away. The scenery changed from bleak and
dreary to bright and swampy. Hasir gazed over the edge of the boat and saw a wide expanse of swampland and smelled the acrid
scent of swamp water.
Hasir turned to Quinchal and asked the well-rounded Tsaesci what the swampland they were cruising alongside was called,
"That is called the bittercoast. It is home to one of the most famous cities in Vvardenfell. Look, up ahead." He gestured ahead of
him and Hasir followed his pointing finger, "See those small islands? those are called the Ascadian Isles the belies Vivec City which
I'm sure you've seen." Hasir nodded. Quinchal pointed to a far off fishing town that was obscured by a blanket of swamp gas. Hasir
strained his eyes as much as he could but he could not see it.
Maybe the tsaesci possessed some special form of x-ray vision. He knew this was stupid, however because races of Nirn did not
possess xray vision. The gondolier drew closer with her vessel and then Hasir saw it: a magnificent fishing village bustling with life.
Hasir saw a lot of Khajiit and Argonians gutting fish with hunting knives. He then saw two Argonians with two smaller Argonians
clinging to their parents' ankles as they gazed down into the water as if scared that a sea monster would leap out at any minute. A
monster of sorts did leap out; but instead of it being big and scary it was sweet and slender. It grabbed the boy's ankle and tried to
pull him in, laughing while she did this.
When she was finishing toying with her 'prey' she hopped up onto the raised wooden walkway, shaking off the excess water like a
dog who just got out of the bath. She shook so vigirously that the overflow soaked the male Argonian and the offspring. The female
Argonian looked up and roared with laughter at their displeased faces.
Hasir sniggered as he witnessed their displeasure; Quinchal clipped Hasir on the back of his head so forcibly that he had to grip a
nearby seat to prevent himself from falling overboard. The Argonian gawped at the tsaesci and asked why in Oblivion he would do
something like that.
The tsaesci rounded on Hasir and berated him for his brashness,
"You stupid hatchling, why did you laugh at them? You are so insensitive sometimes, you know that?" He walked away shaking his
head.
Hasir sat down, crossed his arms and stewed angrily in his contempt of the tsaesci. Quinchal put the oar in the water and proceeded
to push off for the village. Hasir glanced around nervously as though unsure if he wanted to meet his real clutch or not.
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