A short crest of hair the rest shaved. Intense eyes hardly seem to blink as they stare at several dead dogs in cages. With a frown, he starts to pace and then stops and looks around. No skeevers to talk to him. To guide him. With a sigh, he sits by the cages with the dead dogs in them and leans his head against the cold bars. What is he doing wrong? There must be something. Slowly his eyes close, his thoughts drift away, toward the past.
A Nord like no other is this Lyssavi. Always an outcast, never really caring. He remembers always wanting to KNOW. Know the unknowable, in any way possible. It is why at 17 he cut up the family dog. He just wanted to see how the dog worked. His drunken oof of a father kicked him out after that. And then when he went to the mage guilds to know more, they too, kicked him out! Not for cutting up a dog. Just for his words. What was wrong about talking about his animal experiments? Or wondering about the differences between man and beast's screams? It was all for knowledge, to KNOW. And yet… Lyssavi tilts his head. Was it his words that nearly got him arrested in Wayrest, or the man he cut up to see how he worked? Why was that so very wrong? The skeever that came to him did not think it was wrong. Neither did the Daedric Prince Peryite think it wrong. The Prince opened his mind to diseases, and what a wonder THAT was. That something you could not even see could cause such interesting results. And if he could just make his disease, one that would mimic a zombie's rabid appetite but in a living host...that would bite and rend and spread the disease, it would be bliss. The most perfect expression of knowledge and what knowing could do. If...If he could just figure out HOW. A missing piece. And with that, he moves to the table and stares at his ingredients and notes. Again frustration builds but then a whisper in his ear.
"The answer you seek is near Lyssavi…find those of like-minded. Find what binds all of you together. And for that, you only need to look up. Remember this when you are at last all together."
Lyssavi turns around. Expecting a skeever, even though the voice was very different. But nothing is there. The shadows almost seem to move for a moment, but then all is as it was. A puzzled expression crosses his face and then he moves to his bedroll. He'll sleep on this...for now.
Out in the dark is a Khajiit. Like the Nord, Ri'Zakar is not a typical Khajiit. Brown fur with darker stripes, and stranger still scales among the fur and scar tissue on the left side of his body. He lies on his back staring up at the heavens with an expression of hate on his face as Jone and Jode shine their cold light down upon the land. With a slight movement, he reaches up to them making a fist. As if his hate alone is enough to crush them. With a soft growl, he lowers his hand as memories of the past drift through his head. An uncaring unloving mother who sold him off to Khajiit bandits. Who forced him to steal, and do worse things he never wanted to do. Who abused him, and caged him like an animal. All of this, and Jone and Jode never cared. Just shone their cold light down. No hope, nothing. Until the night near the Reach border. Until the Reachman came and he watched silently as they butchered the bandits. One had come to his cage then. Wondering why the young Khajiit, still just a kit, was locked in a cage. Wondering why Ri'Zakar let out no cry to warn the bandits. And then those eyes of the Reachman, that would become his adopted father, showed that they found him worthy. And that is how the Khajiit became a Reachman. How he found his true parents, love. How he became a warrior, and his clan kept his hatred at bay. Until fate took its cruel turn once more. Weakened by war with another clan, parents killed, and he nearly died and then found himself falling. An ancient place, a dragon trapped in a soul gem, and the promise of saving his clan. And that is how the Reachman became a dragon.
"All inside," Ri'Zakar softly whispers to the night. The dragon inside of him, but you'd never know it on the outside. The outside was Khajiit wrapped in Reachmen. Only his unnatural powers and the way he made those powers grow would show anything at all. Devour the heart-blood, gain more power. Khajiit hearts. He hated Khajiits, always would. So it was poetic. He stands then and turns his back on the moons moving to his tent. His side hurts, though less than in previous days. As he moves into the tent his claws move to the scales that now shine through, the mangled healed flesh. The reason why he was here and not back with his clan. The reason he let his hatred out. His clan weakened from the war. Made a pack with the Mad Necromancer during his war of annihilation to gain enough strength and power to survive. A foolish decision in the end... A hero came, and destroyed Ri'Zakar's clan, nearly killing him in the process. Such power the fire witch had. Unnatural power from Oblivion itself. Dagon's champion fighting on the side of the mortals. A soft growl emits from him. He knew she had fallen, and yet he could sense her hated power faintly. He will find it, someday. Kill her, or the one that took up her mantel. Claim the power to add to his own, and then perhaps he'd have enough to not only make Jone and Jode cry but tear them from the sky itself. And with those dark thoughts he at last sleeps.
-Orcrest-
A portal opens and Spiders-In-Scales steps out to see he has landed in a very strange place as the portal closes he tilts his head listening intently. The buzz of insects, the cries of the damned the moans of sickness, and every so often the cry of an ogre. Spiders hisses softly to himself. This was a place of pain and eventual death. The song was akin to a lullaby to him. Not...the song he was seeking but interesting all the same. Taking to a half-dead tree he settles into its branches and as the moons set he falls asleep to the twisted lullaby of Orcrest
The day dawns hot and dry, sand blowing in the wind as the bridge to Orcrest stands before Lyssavi and Ri'Zakar. The cat was apprehensive, the Nord vibrating with anticipation. "You are immune," Lyssavi states as he sets out across the bridge, the massive gorge spread out below them After a moment Ri'Zakar follows with a soft growl which causes the Nord to laugh softly. "Trust me. I examined you inside and out. I know you well, my best friend," Lyssavi happily says as he walks. His best friend's strangeness...his dragonness makes him immune. The Nord's thoughts drift back to the day that the young vampire drug Ri'Zakar to him, the Khajiit on the brink of death. Half of his body burned beyond recognition by the Champion of Dagon's power. Skin fur and muscle burned away to leave charged bone exposed. At first, he was not sure if he should watch the cat die and dissect him afterward, or fix him if he was so able. But the moment he had seen into the Khajiit's chest, the heart exposed by just a bit, he knew he had to fix him. The heart...was unlike any he had ever seen. Not fully Khajiit, unnatural in a way that sparked his endless curiosity. Taking a guess, a chance, he used dragon blood in his concoction. If he had guessed wrong….the Khajiit would have died and his vampire friend might have torn his throat out for it, had she ever come back. But of course, he was right! Ri'Zakar was somehow part dragon and he was changing… the way he healed, the scales that grew intermixed with fur. And so he very much wanted to see what his new best friend would become just as much as he wanted to create the most interesting disease ever.
As the two enter the city and start to make their way deeper within, Ri'Zakar studies the Nord. His curiosity was very strange. Even now as they avoided danger at every step, diseased savages sickly harpies vicious ogres, and other twisted abominations the Nord showed no fear as he collected a harpy feather here, ogre droppings there, and other vile things. Some seeing this would think the Nord oblivious, or idiotic, but he knew his friend was deeply intelligent, in a way that made him more dangerous than he appeared. And what was also true was that he owed this man his life. Such a thing was not something he took lightly...it was a matter of honor. But should it come down to a choice between Lyssavi and his revenge...he knew he would pick the latter. The Ri'Zakar who had believed in honor, who believed in protecting his clan above all, even his hate, had died in the inferno of the Fire witch along with his clan.
"Would you?" A whisper that causes him to still for a moment, growling softly under his breath. The voice chuckles. "What if...there was no choice? What if your goals aligned? What if you two are like-minded after all?" It whispers, before fading.
Puzzled he continues after his friend, his eyes staring at the Nord's back. How could diseases and his desire to bring suffering upon Jone and Jode and the Khajiits they loved be the same?
A soft sigh from behind a building as green eyes carefully peer out. "This one thought…," Shade-Whiskers whispers before falling silent. She has cast her concealment spells but still, she feared for a moment she had been noticed. But something else had spooked the striped Khajiit...and she had felt it too. A darkening of day, a chill cast to the air. The Shadow Khajiit...she must somehow be near...and yet not. Her nose crinkles at these conflicting thoughts. "Just who is she? And why is she following, whispering to these two?" she whispers. The pair was slightly unusual, their chosen destination more so, and she shudders softly. Orcrest was a lost place. Stuck by the Knahaten Flu and lost to it...and so many were cursed and bound here and the despair of it all made her briefly yearn for home. The whirl of gears, the hiss of steam, the strange clockwork beings and creatures that lived side by side with all who found their way into Sotha Sil's world. There was no returning for any of them and most did adapt well. Shade-Whiskers had been young when she and her mother found sanctuary in the strange place Though in all its wonders they could not save her mother from the grievous injuries suffered on the outside. With a small growl, Shade shakes the memories and despair off. She had a job to do. She had to figure out what was going on, and why it had something to do with her guardianship and so she continues following the two.
Deeper in Orcrest a portal opens and Xahrshi steps out into the day, orange-red eyes blinking at the light. With a growl, he pulls his hood further over his face. He HAD been asleep on the border in a nice dark cave when the whispers woke him. Led him to open a portal to this place. A place that stank of sickness and carrion. Why… his eyes narrow as he gazes around. A half-dead tree, decaying bodies, and… two who do not belong to this place. A Nord and a Khajiit. The Nord gathering strange things, the Khajiit guarding his back. His memories fall back to days ago, the whispers in the dark.
~Go to Northern Elsweyr and Orcrest. You will find those of like-minded there. Different goals, perhaps. But like-minded all the same.~
These two...was who he was meant to find? He takes one paw-step forward and the other Khajiit snaps his head up Xahrshi is startled to see a look of intense hatred well in the striped Khajiits eyes as daggers are drawn, the staff on his back ignored. Xahrshi narrows his eyes and then smirks. If this strange Khajiit wants to fight...Let...Him...Try.
Shade-Whiskers creeps up a staircase and stills. Now there are two Khajiits and they are locked in brutal combat. Weapons, fur, the air electric with unleashed magic. "Oh…," Shade whispers as she quickly sneaks around to a small enclave filled with grass and watches with growing horror. The new Khajiit was….was...her eyes widen. He was a vampire. A shiver of fear passes through her as her claws grip the ground as she tries to fight to be brave, to fight memories long distant from surfacing. It had been vampires… "Mother…," she softly whispers before she tightens focus on the here and now. She was a kit back then, but she WAS Soth Sil's chosen guardian now. Trained in combat, magecraft, and more besides. For a moment such as this. Even if...this was the first time. Even if this was not what she expected. Even if...vampires were involved.
From the tree Spiders is so still, no one has noticed him at all. Not the Nord with his song of deadly curiosity who's intent on watching the fight, nor the Khajiit whose song drips with a dragon's venom, not even the vampire, his song one of ice and blood and a touch of servitude. Spider's eyes blink slowly as his eyes shift into the red spectrum as he watches the fight, and listens to the songs...listens as their songs and his start to harmonize, and then Spider's knows. Knows what the other three do not and with liquid grace, he bursts from the tree and springs into the midst of the battle slamming his palms into both cats' chests sending them flying apart. "Spiders says stop your hissing, stop your growling," he hisses at the two.
Xahrshi pants, blood dripping and eyes glowing softly. "You DARE?" Xahrshi snarls.
Ri'Zakar also snarls angrily, "HE is Khajiit. His heart is mine."
Spider's eyes shift to violet as he studies both Khajiits. Their songs, their hate. But not for each other. "I am Spiders-In-Scales," Spiders hisses. "Our songs harmonize."
The vampire starts at the last few words and at last, he lowers his weapons. Ri'Zakar however refuses to give ground and prepares to pounce but before he can something stops him. A chill at his back, memories, and strange whispers in the dark. Last night as he drifted to sleep a strange whisper in the dark. He ignored it, then. But now, he remembers. ~As one, too far for even a dragon to reach. But perhaps if one was not alone...perhaps the impossible would be possible. Find those of like mind. Together…, (A low laugh) Together, even the moons will cower in terror.~
Ri'Zakar at last lowers his weapons, as well as his eyes, lock onto Spiders. "Whispers in the dark," he growls. "Explain, quickly."
Spiders starts to speak but pauses in utter stillness as the hot air suddenly drops in temperature and darkness falls as thick clouds cover the sky.
Lyssavi walks to his friend's side and looks up at the sky as the whispers words from last night return to him. "They said I only need to look up," Lyssavi says with a crafty look in his eyes. As he had listened to the Argonian's words his thoughts had moved to the sun and what the whispers told him. But darkness had fallen instead and a happy smile crosses his face. Things that live...transform...change by the moonlight. "I think I am close to grasping the answer. I need a werewolf!" he says.
Xahrshi starts at the word and growls. "Werew….is the Nord touched?" Xahrshi growls.
Spiders laugh, "He sings the song of Peryite. He wants to create...such divine horror," Spiders hisses. "The screams, the music that it will bring. Perhaps they will lead Spiders to the song he seeks. The song he must have."
Ri'Zakar had gone very still. The whispers from earlier in his head, his eyes on his friend. He thought their goals were unconnected but if the Nord could make a disease using the moons...turning Jone and Jode light to dark...a feral smile filled with promise and delight fills his face. "Jone and Jode will suffer and Khajiits too," he snarls.
The vampire also starts to smile. "Hircine and his accursed wolfs," Xahrshi snarls. "This is what I wish to end."
Spiders eyes shift to deep gold. "Spiders wants the song. The song that breaks and remakes. The song that mortals scream before being lost. The Moons hide it. But another secret moon sings whispers of it. Spiders saw the eyes of another when my lady Namira remade me. Azure eyes in the dark."
Lyssavi tilts his head puzzling over the Argonian's words for a moment. "Mage Guild," he at last says. "So many books on so many different things. Though they kept throwing me out…" he says and brings a finger to his lips as he chews on it thinking intently. "I read something about demon cats, maws, songs. Lorkhaj."
Spiders attention snaps to the Nord. "The name...the name sings true," Spiders hisses. "YES. That is what Spiders seeks. I seek his song. So the world may scream to it, and to Spiders."
Lorkhaj, A fallen god. The one who some Khajiit are lost to, the song that turns them into bent cats, demon cats. Silence falls over the four for long moments as they complement all of this. All very different impossible goals, and yet they hold the Moons in common. Four beings of Like-mind, with no limits on how far they will go to achieve their horrific ends.
"Impossible...alone...but," Xahrshi whispers. "My Prince, if he was of a mind to pay attention to this one anymore, may not approve...but…" his eyes glow a hellish red. "But this one wants this. Wants to kill and rend wolves until the bodies reach the Moons."
With a glance at the vampire, Ri'Zakar slowly growls and then shakes his head. "Jone and Jode's light is cold and unfeeling. Only pain they and their Khajiits have brought me. I will have them all pay for this. Nothing holds this one back in this. Not…" Ri'Zakar swallows, a brief look of loss and pain in his eyes before the hatred swallows them once more. "Not anymore."
A happy smile is still on Lyssavi's face. "I want to make what Peryite showed me was perhaps possible. And more besides," Lyssavi tells them. "And I want to see my best friend evolve and...and...Yes! All of it. This is fascinating. It…," his eyes light up. "It will be like taking apart the heavens. What do the moons look like INSIDE?"
Spiders throws his head back and laughs. "Our songs harmonize. We are of like-mind," he hisses as his eyes shift to deep green. "We can shatter the moons themselves as we follow our deepest desires!"
From the small enclave, Shade-Whiskers is still from the shock of what she is hearing. What these men were planning. It was impossible, every single one of their goals. It had to be! …but...even in Clockwork city news of the outside trickled in. One Mer nearly gave all of Nirn to Molag Bal, the Lord of domination. One Necromancer nearly ended all life, despite all attempts to stop his madness. And there were four beings with just as twisted goals, and in no way were they, normal mortals. Peryite… Namira… Bal… even if their Princes had no real hand in this, their chosen had more power than normal mortals. And the striped Khajiit...he moved far too fast to be normal. And she had been sure she had seen scales on his side peeking through the fur. SCALES. How, why? A small gulp as she wonders what this has to do with what she guards, and why the shadow Khajiit wanted THIS outcome.
Their goals impossible, yet not. Yet how to combine and conquer? How to do all of this? Xahrshi gestures around them. "We should find someplace to talk," Xahrshi says.
Lyssavi pouts for a moment. "But we are here. Whatever is wrong with this place? It is all so fascinating! How the flu caused all of this!"
Ri'Zakar laughs and claps the Nord on the back. "Sometimes Ri'Zakar wonders how something has not eaten you by now, Lyssavi."
Spiders glances all around. "Too open. Even now, something cloaked watches us," he hisses and then turns to the enclave, his eyes seeing past the shadows, past the spells that conceal Shade-Whiskers.
Shade-Whisker's fur bristles as the Argonian turns to stare at her. How can he see her, how? And now they are all staring, looking for her. Why did she back herself in here, why why why? She had been sure her spell would hide her from anything! Frantic pants, all thought of all she knows scattering to the winds, she bursts from the alcove like a startled skeevaton and runs for the stairs, but before she can reach them a gray streak as Spiders moves, far faster than any Argonian should and its a moment later she feels his claws wrap around her arms and jerk her back, and for all her hissing and struggles she cannot break from his iron grip and she feels her spell shatter.
"Spiders hears you, sees you," Spiders whispers. "Your song flows in a different river than ours." His grip tightens. "Tell us who you are. What you are after, or Spiders will make you scream."
Fear fills Shade-Whisker's eyes. No way to get to her weapons, no way to cast her magic, and in truth, she's far too frightened to do so. The shock of finding a vampire mixed up in this, of feeling so out of her depth, and now this...creature who seems to cause her fear to grow large enough to consume her whole. So all she can do is cower as the others move closer, no mercy in their eyes, no hope of escape.
Xahrshi moves in front of her, his claws touch her face and a twisted smile crosses his face as she flinches from the touch. "Poor little Khajiit. So terrified of… is it us, or is it this one?" Xahrshi says and then looks at the others. "Perhaps we should take her someplace… more private. Where there is one there may be two. We can let Spiders play with her...then….," he turns his gaze upon his fellow Khajiit. "You wanted to eat my heart, will hers do instead?" he asks.
Ri'Zakar's eyes lock onto Shade-Whiskers. His cat-like gaze, Khajiit, and yet not. Something else lurks within, something far darker and she turns her head from his gaze. "It will," Ri'Zakar purrs.
Xahrshi turns and his claws weave spells and a portal opens. "This one knows a place. A very very out of the way place," he says as he walks through, followed by the others, Spider dragging Shade along.