A/N: I know it's been a suuuuper long time since I posted a new chapter, but here it is! The first part of potentially 3 chapters (maybe a 4th for an epilogue) for the Senchal arc! I made my own vision of Senchal, so it doesn't much look like the one in ESO. I hope you enjoy the start of this new mini-story arc with Dar'zhar-do. Let me know what you think!

~Chapter 8~

Sugar and Blood (Part 1)

Rajhin's Whiskers, it feels like forever since we left Torval. We have done nothing but walk for days now through the dense Tenmar forest. Winding through the maze of trees, pushing apart tall grass, avoiding sudden inclines or hidden cliffs. This is to say nothing of the wildlife that seeks to feast on our flesh at night, and sometimes even during broad daylight...

At times this one wishes he was still paralyzed so Rajirr would still have to carry him.

Dar'zhar-do's concentration slipped and his foot got stuck in a tree root, bringing him down to the ground face first. It hurt, but then felt great to lay down, as he panted from exhaustion. The chirping jungle birds would be a nice tune to fall asleep to.

"Alright, come on, get up," Rajirr said in exasperation, turning around to face him.

"Just a moment," Dar'zhar-do said between rapid breaths. "Just a quick rest."

He closed his eyes and tried to catch his breath. The ground was covered with insects, but nothing could faze him right now.

But alas, he felt himself being lifted up by the Cathay-raht and set back on his two feet, who then started walking ahead again.

Dar'zhar-do brushed off the bugs and ran to catch up with him. "Maybe you could carry this one for a while again. It would be quicker, no?"

"Not happening, kid," he said plainly.

"Then perhaps we could take to the roads now at least? Surely this one's father would not be looking for us all the way out here."

"Not taking the chance."

"Could we not have at least taken a senche-tiger or two to ride? We would already be in Senchal by now," Dar'zhar-do said between gasps of air.

"Wasn't really an option at the time. It was hard enough as it was getting out of Torval carrying your useless husk."

Dar'zhar-do scoffed, feeling offended, and stepped around another protruding tree root in the ground. "You know," he said and took another breath, "this one could just leave. Turn back around and go home, tell them you kidnapped this one," he said with his voice cracking from dehydration.

"You haven't yet."

Dar'zhar-do took a big sip of water from his canteen and gasped. It was all he had left in it.

"Yeah well," he said and paused for more breath, "maybe I should."

"Alright," is all he said in response.

Dar'zhar-do stopped. "Alright, fine then. See ya," he said, and turned around.

Dar'zhar-do walked for a while and then wondered if he could find a road to walk on. He was not even sure which direction he was going, so went to pull out the compass and map, and then realized it was with Rajirr.

He contemplated whether he could just find his own way home or somewhere to get another map. He noticed the sun begin its descent in the distance, and heard the sounds of nocturnal animals waking up.

That would be okay, right? If he stayed close to the roads and just walked through the night...without anything but a dagger to defend himself and with little food and water…

He heard the large thumping of a creature approaching, and bundles of grass splitting apart. He jumped at the sound and pulled out his dagger instinctively.

Then he laughed warily as he realized it was just a Glyptodon passing by, a giant tortoise-like armadillo creature. As big as those creatures were, they were very slow, and as harmless as a fly. He sheathed his dagger once more and tried to regain his composure. Right after that, a bird flew too close overhead and he got spooked again.

Suddenly he realized that it would be foolish to get himself lost in the middle of the Tenmar forest at night, so he ran back to catch up with Rajirr.

"Welcome back," Rajirr said without looking at him.

Dar'zhar-do grunted, but said nothing, and walked with his arms crossed. The two of them walked in silence for a while.

"You're not getting out of this you know. Not now, and not when we get to Senchal. I'll find you and drag you there myself if I have to," Rajirr said.

J'zhar looked away, still keeping his arms crossed. Then his ears perked as he had an idea.

"Good, then you can start now," Dar'zhar-do said, smiling, and he laid down with his arms crossed behind his neck.

"For the love of Alkosh, if you don't-" Rajirr said, then turned around to see him. J'zhar didn't budge.

Rajirr finally shook his head in defeat and sighed. "Whatever, if it will finally shut you up."

Another day passed and the unlikely duo finally saw a semblance of civilization on the horizon - the large port city of Senchal. Its vibrant colors pierced the sky and the bustling city extended from one end of the peninsula to the other. All three sides were surrounded by ports that reached outward into the padomaic sea, with several dozen ships docked or sailing nearby. The ship designs and flags came from all parts of the world. The city itself was built with yellow stone walls surrounding it, and the central district was elevated much higher on the hill it was built into. A giant palace stood there, where presumably the King must live.

Beyond that, the many other districts of the city were also visible from this distance, and Dar'zhar-do could tell the quality of living in each by how the houses looked. Black Keirgo stood out immediately as the most oppressive.

"Wow," was all Dar'zhar-do could muster.

"Never been?" Rajirr laughed. "Don't worry, you'll get to see a lot of it by the time we're done here," he said as he started walking down the slopes to the coast.

Dar'zhar-do followed after him. "Remind this one again, why did we need to come here to join the Dark Brotherhood? This one thought it was in Corinthe."

"Yeah, but we can't just go knocking on their door, you need to get invited into the brotherhood first."

"Yes, and that is by killing someone, this one is aware," Dar'zhar-do mumbled, looking away.

"Right. But remember, this is the Elsweyr Dark Brotherhood. They don't just invite any random cat that killed their neighbor over some Skooma to join their organization. That's how it is in places like Cyrodiil, but Khajiit are natural thieves and assassins, so they only choose the best of the best. You need to stick out of the crowd."

"And we can do that here in Senchal, the largest crowd of thieves and killers there is?" Dar'zhar-do asked incredulously.

Rajirr glared at him, clearly annoyed. "I've got a contact here that can help us. If you pull off a hit for them, they can get you an audience with the brotherhood directly. They owe me a favor."

Dar'zhar-do sighed of relief, "Ah, so that is how we will do it," he laughed. "Dar'zhar-do admits, for a moment there he thought you were going to make him kill some high profile, extremely skilled and heavily guarded target."

Rajirr laughed as well and patted him on the shoulder. "They're not gonna choose someone easy."

Dar'zhar-do stopped laughing, but Rajirr did not. Dar'zhar-do's ears flattened in annoyance.

Rajirr pressed his hand up against Dar'zhar-do's chest to stop him. "Hey, you should probably remove any jewelry you have on you, and wear your hood up. I don't think anyone would recognize you here, or care if they did, but you don't want to wear or do anything that would make us look like easy or loaded targets."

Dar'zhar-do frowned and started taking off all of his piercings and other jewelry pieces one by one. "Anything in particular Dar'zhar-do should do or avoid doing?"

Rajirr looked him up and down. "Yeah, don't be nice. Don't look weak. Ignore anything that doesn't concern you. And if you absolutely muck things up, don't fight fair."

Dar'zhar-do solemnly put the jewelry away in his pockets.

Rajirr continued. "To put it simply: Don't be a hero. Senchal isn't a place you go to make friends. Everyone here is out for themselves, and they don't care who you think you are, only if they can take you in a fight. Also, ditch the dar'do."

"What? This one cannot be called Dar'zhar-do?"

Rajirr scoffs. "Not unless you want to pick a fight with every cutthroat who thinks you don't deserve the titles."

"Ah...Fine, could this one at least go by J'zhar, then? He…does not like his full name."

"Whatever, I guess."

J'zhar shrugged. It had been a long time since he used that name, and it brought back memories of a different time. Some good, some bad, but altogether, an image of a completely different person from who he is today. Then again, he is a different person from when he first chose the name Dar'zhar-do as well, so perhaps it is for the best.

Rajirr pulls up J'zhar's hood over his head and pats his shoulder. "Don't worry kid, stick close to me and don't do anything stupid, and we probably won't even have to kill anyone before we get to my contact."

The gates to the city creaked open, and the bustling sound of the city enveloped the duo.

J'zhar felt as tiny as an Alfiq as they passed through the gates of Senchal. He grew up hearing that Senchal was the biggest city in Elsweyr, but that did not mean much to him. Torval is fairly large, but it appears bigger than it is because of being so high up in the trees. Senchal also evokes that feeling, but for a different reason.

Buildings lay on the ground, but all of the roofs are flat, and more buildings rest upon them, and then more upon those. Bridges, clotheslines, and decorations hung throughout the streets clog the space between, connecting everything to everything. Flags and tapestries hang across buildings and from the bamboo railings that surround every rooftop. Every building is painted a different vibrant color of the rainbow, making it a bit disorienting to look at.

Palm trees and other greenery grow right up next to the houses, and sometimes spring up in the middle of the cobblestone roads, as if the jungle was breaching the city and taking back the land.

It felt like a city on top of a city, and everyone moved through it as fluidly as a river - never stopping, never slowing. There were Khajiit of all forms, but also people of all races, more than J'zhar had ever seen. It looks nothing like the den of villainy it was always portrayed as.

Rajirr shoved J'zhar forward, breaking him out of his trance. "Don't let your guard down. This is Squint-Eye district, it may look nice, but it's all a sham, an illusion to make you feel safe. This is the district all the touristy folk visit to pretend they saw the whole city."

Rajirr kept moving forward, and J'zhar ran to catch up. He did not entirely believe him, but did not want to argue.

They walked through the streets at a fast pace, and J'zhar took in everything around him. Open-air markets ran along each side of the street, with merchants peddling their goods. A mother leaned out of a second story window to hang her children's clothes out to dry. A few Cathay-raht carried large barrels and crates, and some Senche and Pahmar-raht Khajiit pulled carts full of trading goods. Dagi children were playing tag on rooftops up above, where nearby a couple of Alfiq hunted birds.

Rajirr bumped his fist into J'zhar's chest. "Don't go anywhere. I'll just be a minute, I gotta talk to someone."

J'zhar nodded his head, only half paying attention, and the brown-furred mercenary disappeared into the crowd. He glanced back in the direction he went to, and was surprised a Cathay-raht so tall could blend in like that.

Among the cacophony of the marketplace, a beautiful melody drew in J'zhar's attention, and he looked for its source. There, a Tojay wearing ragged clothing sat on the ground playing a wooden string instrument. An esraj, J'zhar recognized. His fingers rapped across the board wildly as the song reached a crescendo.

J'zhar approached the street performer and stood next to a couple other onlookers, two Cathay women. J'zhar did not recognize the song, but the tune was contagious, and he soon found himself tapping his foot along to the music. As the song came to an end, the Tojay lifted up his instrument and bowed his head, and the two Cathays clapped excitedly. The two of them dropped a few gold coins into an upside down hat that lay on the ground near him, and he smiled at them.

J'zhar decided to follow suit, and pulled out his heavy coin purse from within his garb, and dropped a few coins in the hat.

"Moons bless you, kind sir," the Tojay said.

J'zhar smiled and turned around, tucking the coinpurse back in his shirt. Then suddenly he saw the dark shadow of a tall figure and he was pulled away by the arm.

"What in the world do you think you're doing?" Rajirr said, whispering loudly.

J'zhar, looking confused, frowned and shrugged. "Umm. Sparing a few coins for a budding musician?"

Rajirr smacked the side of J'zhar's head. "What was literally the first thing I told you not to do when we got here?"

"What? It was good music!" he shouted.

Rajirr shook his head. "Whatever. You're just gonna have to learn, kid. Come on, let's keep moving."

Rajirr walked away and J'zhar struggled to keep up with the Cathay-raht's pace.

"This one thinks you are being too untrusting," J'zhar said. "You see danger in everything, Rajirr. First the roads, and now innocent street performers. What next? Will the air we breathe suddenly become toxic?" he said as he walked alongside him, looking up.

Rajirr's expression was stone cold, and he only looked forward. "Trust no one, expect everything is a trap, and you just might live a little longer."

J'zhar rolled his eyes. "It is no wonder you never seem happy, if that is how you feel."

Rajirr didn't respond.

For a moment the two walked in silence, until it annoyed J'zhar. "So who is your contact we are going to see, anyway?" J'zhar asked.

"Their name is Ya'Tirrje, but people call them the Gold Cat. I used to work for them for years. They have influence all over Elsweyr, but Senchal is where they run their main operation. Nothing happens in Senchal without them knowing about it, and without their direct approval," Rajirr sighed. "At least, that's how it was."

J'zhar looked up curiously at him. "But not anymore?"

Rajirr shrugged. "I don't know, something feels off. We gotta make a stop somewhere to get some information first. It's in a different district."

As the duo crossed the threshold between districts, J'zhar felt a change in the air, as if it smelled worse. More smoggy, which was a stark contrast from the sweet scent of the marketplace.

The vibrantly colored buildings changed into faded bleached hues, ranging from a slate gray to a tawny brown. The buildings are stacked much higher here, and closer together. The cobblestone roads looked less cared for, and the flags and tapestries of Squint-Eye were replaced with chipped paint and cracked walls.

There were much less people here, and they moved at a slower pace. There was no constant sound of people talking, no music playing, or merchants shouting. J'zhar could hear the sounds of the water running in a large fountain ahead of them, with a statue depicting some Khajiiti hero or King.

"Welcome to Dagi's Pride," Rajirr said, extending his arms out.

"It does not seem very prideful," J'zhar noted.

"Yeah, well let's hope you won't have to see Black Keirgo then. This is where most of the city lives. In cramped tiny apartments, far away from all three port districts where most of them work, or the bazaars of Squint-Eye."

Rajirr waved J'zhar over. "Come on, this is our stop," he said.

In front of them stood a large tavern, painted light gray. It had a wooden sign on it that said "Nine Lives Inn".

J'zhar stepped into the dimly lit establishment, and the floorboards creaked beneath them. Suddenly the realization of how hungry, thirsty and tired he was washed over him.

"We won't be here long," Rajirr said, as if reading his thoughts.

J'zhar grunted. Rajirr stepped away to talk to the Innkeeper at the bar, so he decided to make the most of his stay and walk over to one of the barmaids wiping down a table.

"This one would like some water, and something quick to eat. Whatever this can afford," he said, and passed some gold coins to her. The barmaid - an Ohmes-raht, nodded and walked off toward the bar.

J'zhar found a vacant table and sat down, and took a deep breath. He stretched his legs, relaxed, and looked around. Rajirr was leaning against the bar talking to the innkeeper still, they appeared to be having a heated discussion. Then again maybe not, Rajirr always sounded angry.

Nearby in a corner, there was a table full of an unruly looking bunch of Khajiit, mostly Cathay-raht, adorned with all sorts of scars. There they played some sort of card game. J'zhar did not look in their direction for very long.

Then there was a Tojay-raht sitting down by a wall, where a Senche lay next to him on a large pillow, drinking out of a bowl.

There was an Alfiq walking across the floor, and passed through a tiny curtain door in the wall. J'zhar briefly caught a glimpse of several other Alfiq in there sitting around a table. Huh, an Alfiq-only section.

The sound of a bowl and cup setting down on his table pulled him away from his thoughts. The Ohmes-raht barmaid crossed her arms and bowed, and then walked away wordlessly.

In front of him was a cup of water and a bowl of hot soup. J'zhar eagerly ate his soup and quenched his thirst.

"What do you think, should we join up with the Fur Trader too? Is he still looking for more muscle?" a hushed feminine voice said beside him at a booth. It was a Suthay and Suthay-raht.

"This one does not know," the Suthay-raht said. "He does not like him. This one has always been a thief, you know, but what the Fur Trader does-"

"It does not matter. He is the one with the pure sugar now. The Gold Cat is gone. We cannot afford it otherwise. My little brother is growing, he is at the age you know, and Senche-raht-" she lost her composure, and started crying.

J'zhar frowned. All newborn Khajiit needed Moon Sugar to soothe the growing pains within the first few weeks as they grow into their furstock. He had heard it was even more important for Senche and especially Senche-raht to have plentiful moon sugar when they reach their teenage growth spurt. Without it, they will suffer constant pain throughout it, sometimes even causing permanent issues.

He wondered if a lot of others are in a similar situation now in Elsweyr, with new harvests of moon sugar turning bitter and no longer soothing those growing pains.

"Alright, this one will ask around about him. He knows someone. This one will see if we can find some work, to help your brother. Meet me here tomorrow," the male Suthay-raht whispered and kissed her forehead. He stood up from the booth. She nodded, and rested her head in her arms and cried some more.

J'zhar saw the Suthay-raht walk past him. He had dark gray striped fur, and noticed he wore torn, dirty clothing, and his smell made J'zhar gag and lose some of his appetite.

Soon after, two of the unruly looking Cathay-raht men also got up, and followed the Suthay-raht from a distance as he left the tavern. Hmm, as subtle as a Senche-raht, they are.

"Poor fool drew the wrong attention. This one would not want to be him right about now," the Tojay-raht said, shaking his head to his Senche companion.

J'zhar's ears twitched warily, hearing that. He tried to ignore it, and continue with his meal.

"This one knows, S'dran, but no one cares, and no one who does, dares," the Tojay-raht said again, he seemed to be responding to the Senche's sign language.

No, J'zhar. It is none of your business. Do not worry about that. It is his own fault for getting involved with someone who calls themselves 'The Fur Trader'. Seriously, who calls themself that?

J'zhar laughed lightly to himself, and lifted his spoon to eat more of his soup. Then he heard the Suthay crying again with her head down at the table, and felt strangely guilty. J'zhar tried to ignore it again.

Why do you suddenly care? Bad stuff happens all the time to people, no one can do anything about it, it is just the way things are. You start sticking your tail out, it will get stepped on.

The realization that those words were something Rajirr told him, made him feel worse. He looked at him at the bar, angrily pounding on it, probably out of some frustration he had. J'zhar did not want to be like him.

He got up and walked out of the tavern to follow them.

J'zhar heard the sound of fighting coming from a nearby alleyway, and he ran over to investigate. He looked out from the side of the wall, and saw the Suthay-raht on the ground getting beaten up, and kicked in the chest.

J'zhar did not know what to do, or why he was doing anything. That would easily just be him there if he got involved. What could he even do about it? These were two ruthless looking Cathay-raht mercenaries, twice his size, and twice his age too. The swords at their side are half his size, and all he had was a simple dagger...

"Please, that is all this one knows-" the Suthay-raht weakly muttered, talking through pools of blood pouring out of his mouth.

"It will not do you any good to keep lying," one of the Cathay-raht said. He had light gray plain fur, and no mane. He pulled up the Suthay-raht off the ground and threw him against the wall. J'zhar winced.

"Nah, I think he's telling the truth," the other one said. He had yellow

spotted fur, and a brown mane that ran down the middle of his head. "We're just wasting our time. Let's just kill him and be done with it."

"Always with the killing, Do'mar," the Grey Cathay-raht sighed. "But you are in charge." He unsheathed his sword - what looked like a steel cutlass, and lifted it up to the Suthay-raht's neck.

"Wait!"

J'zhar did not know what happened, he thought the Suthay-raht said it, but it was him, and he stood in the center of the alleyway with his dagger drawn without realizing it.

All three Khajiit turned to look at him, the Suthay-raht looked confused and the others were annoyed, and then amused. They started laughing at him.

J'zhar stood there, trembling with fear and barely able to keep a hold of the dagger in his hand. Suddenly it felt very heavy, and his legs felt very weak. He wanted nothing more than to just turn around and forget everything that he just did, leave Senchal and beg for forgiveness at his father's feet for running off.

"What have we got here?" the yellow Cathay-raht - Do'mar - said. He unsheathed a similar cutlass, and slowly walked toward J'zhar.

J'zhar started walking backwards, nearly tripping over trash on the ground, still struggling to hold the dagger up and pointed at him.

"What is this fool to you? Huh? A mate?" the gray Cathay-raht said, pushing the Suthay-raht further against the wall. He shrugged. "This one does not know-"

"Nah, too young. Looks like we got ourselves a hero, S'kar," Do'mar said.

S'kar laughed. "Heroes do not last long in Senchal."

"Stay back!" J'zhar stuttered, as the gray Cathay-raht closed in on him.

"Yeah, or what? Gonna poke me with that butter knife? I doubt you even know how to use it. You should put it down before you hurt yourself."

J'zhar glanced to the side as he was slowly being backed up near a wall, and considered if he could run fast enough, maybe he could get back to the Inn to alert Rajirr.

Would he even care, though? He might just let this one die-

The cutlass slashed his hand and made him drop the dagger. J'zhar gripped his bleeding hand tightly. He backed up against the wall, and the Cathay-raht tilted J'zhar's head up with the cutlass to make him stare into his eyes.

"Shoulda just stayed out of this, you'd still be alive," he said. "Then again, a runt like you probably wouldn't have lasted in Senchal much longer anyway." He laughed.

J'zhar clenched his teeth and tried to think of anything that might save his life right now.

"Wait!" J'zhar shouted. "This one is m-more valuable to you alive than dead!" he stuttered.

"Keep talking, and if I don't like what you say, you're dead," Do'mar said and pressed the cutlass a little closer, nearly drawing blood.

J'zhar glanced back to the Suthay-raht, and then to Do'mar. "This one is the Mane's...nephew! This one is Dar'zhar-do - You could ransom me, he is sure he would pay a reasonable-"

"We don't need that kind of money or the heat right now, even if you aren't lying. Time's up."

"Wait, Do'mar! He might just be what we need," S'kar said.

Do'mar sighed, and turned to him. "He's just lying, trying to save his skin, and even if-"

"This one is not lying, he can prove it!" J'zhar said.

S'kar gave Do'mar a shrug, and he grunted and lowered his weapon, but did not sheathe it.

J'zhar lowered his hood, and slowly reached into his pocket to pull out his jewelry. He held it aloft, and pointed at the engraving inside one of the rings. Do'mar snatched it, and looked closely at it. "To my son, Azhargo - Ra-zara'chi," he said.

J'zhar winced as he said that, for how few times his father ever called him his son. That engraving felt more like a taunting lie than a heartfelt gift.

Do'mar tossed it back carelessly. J'zhar caught it and quickly put it back in his pocket.

"So, you're either telling the truth, or you just stole it," Do'mar said.

"Does it matter, either way?" S'kar said. "He looks like he could be the Mane's nephew, and he is the right age. If he has the ring, then it may be enough."

J'zhar looked puzzled. "Enough for what?" he asked. Do'mar lifted the sword back up at him.

"You're not out of this yet," he said. He turned to S'kar. "Are you sure? If we bring him to Ya'Tirrje and we're wrong…"

"Wait, the Gold Cat?" J'zhar asked. "We were looking for him anyway!"

"We?" Do'mar demanded.

"Uh, this one's...bodyguard? The, uh, Mane sent us here to find him, and make an arrangement with him," J'zhar lied.

Do'mar and S'kar looked at each other again, and S'kar nodded.

Do'mar sighed and sheathed his sword. "Well, whoever's with you makes a terrible bodyguard, and you a gods-awful messenger, but whatever. If you're lying, then you just earned yourself an eternally painful death when Ya'Tirrje finds out. Fine by me."

J'zhar let out a huge sigh of relief.

"Guess we don't need you after all, then," Do'mar said as he walked over to the Suthay-raht.

"S-so this one can go?" the Suthay-raht said, with a weak smile.

"Pttbh. No," Do'mar said flatly, and tilted his head at S'kar.

"Wait!" J'zhar said, raising his hand.

S'kar sighed and cut the Suthay-raht's throat, and the body fell to the ground, lifeless. S'kar shook his head. J'zhar's jaw hung open from shock, and his hand stayed raised.

"Meet us outside S'jirra's on Sweet Street in Black Kiergo in two hours. If you're not there, this will be you next," Do'mar said and pointed to the dead Suthay-raht.

The two of them left him there in the alley with the dead body, and the blood pooled around his feet. He looked down and could see his reflection in the blood, and then tears fell into it, dispersing the image.

J'zhar realized he should get away from the scene while he could, and wiped his eyes and returned inside the tavern. His heart broke when he noticed the yellow striped Suthay woman was still at the same booth with her head in her arms.

Part of him wanted to run over and beg for her forgiveness, even though he doesn't even know her name. The other part wanted to hide and never see her face again, and the guilt it brought.

"Finally, damn it J'zhar! Where the hell did you run off to?" Rajirr said, standing behind him.

"We have to be outside S'jirra's on Sweet Street in Black Keirgo in two hours, if we want to see the Gold Cat," J'zhar said, and walked away from him without looking. He climbed on a chair by the bar and dropped his forehead onto it.

J'zhar and Rajirr walked through the downtrodden roads of Black Keirgo, at a pace that J'zhar found difficult to keep up with the tall Cathay-raht. He only dared take a few glances at the surroundings as they passed through, and of those few, he knew that this was not a place he would want to be by himself, nor one he would ever want to return to, if he could avoid it.

The sun was starting to set in the distance beyond the endless sea of buildings, but it already felt like night here with how dimly lit everything was, and the shadows cast by the dark stone buildings.

Trash and refuse was littered everywhere, and many buildings lacked windows, or even doors, or were shattered or torn off. Some looked abandoned, and others were completely in ruin, with bricks strayed about, and fire damage scarring it.

Many Khajiit, and some of other races, were strewn about in tattered clothing, and it was hard to tell if some were sleeping, or dead. J'zhar could hear muffled screams in the background somewhere, and the sound of something breaking inside the buildings, but Rajirr pressed on without concern, and so J'zhar did as well.

A desperate looking Cathay with patches of fur missing from his skin reached out with a shaking arm, and grabbed the back of J'zhar's clothing.

"Y-you got any of the sweet stuff? Please, I-I need it real bad...real bad…" he wheezed and coughed at him.

"Uh, no, this one does not. Sorry." J'zhar said, and pulled away from him. The grip was pretty tight, and J'zhar strained, but eventually managed to rip free from him, and the old Cathay to the ground.

J'zhar did not stop to help him up, already seeing more eyes peer at him from the alleyways, some with knives, and crooked, toothy smiles. He tugged his hood up over his head more and ran to catch up with Rajirr.

"Are w-we almost there?" J'zhar said, his apprehension written all over his face.

"Shouldn't be too much longer. Don't pay any mind to the skooma-starved rabble littered everywhere. Everyone's on edge now more than usual without a renewable source of pure Moon Sugar to make it. As long as you don't make eye contact with any of them, they'll probably ignore us."

"R-right," J'zhar said, and gulped, trying to not look at anyone, but also too afraid not to. He decided it was best to try and distract himself.

"So. This Gold Cat, huh? Seems like he is still in charge of some things," J'zhar said.

"They," Rajirr corrected.

"You keep saying that, is the Gold Cat multiple people then?"

"No, but it's what they prefer, and you don't want to get on their bad side. No one knows what they look like, or what type of Khajiit they are. They might not even be a Khajiit. No one even knows how old they are, only that they've been running things since near the end of the 3rd Era."

J'zhar was surprised at this. "Wait, that would mean they are over a hundred years old, yes?"

"If it's always been the same person, and not a mantle that gets passed on? Yeah," Rajirr said plainly.

"So you have never seen them, but you worked for them for years," J'zhar clarified.

"Ya'tirrje had a strict policy, never spoke to anyone directly, always worked through other channels. Notes, lackeys, among other things. Or maybe they did, and they're just a master of disguise. Who knows."

"But someone must have been allowed to see them, otherwise how would they know their orders were coming from them, and not someone pretending to be them?"

"Don't ask me kid, I just picked up the orders and the gold from the dead drops. They own a palace in Eshita's grace - the noble's district - so someone's name has to be on the deed."

"Then why are we in Black Kiergo, if that is where they live?"

Rajirr grunted and turned to face J'zhar. "Look, I don't know, nothing feels right about any of this. The barkeep told me they skipped town when the Void Nights started, but then you said these guys are still working for them, so we're checking this out,"

J'zhar nodded, and they both kept walking. They turned down a new street, one that was very long, and looked like it used to be a vibrant bazaar, but all the stalls now were empty, and some were knocked over, or destroyed. There was a torn banner with the word 'Sweet Street' on it.

For a second, J'zhar was confused, he thought they were meeting them outside of a business called S'jirra's. This looked like a ghost town.

"There they are," Rajirr said, and sure enough J'zhar could see the figures of two Cathay-raht up ahead, standing outside of a boarded up building with a broken sign that said 'S'jirra's Bakery'.

"So what do we do, if it turns out to be a trap?" J'zhar asked, as the gap between them narrowed.

"Same as always. Whatever you need to do to survive."

J'zhar was about to comment on how unhelpful that is, but it was too late, they were within earshot now surely. J'zhar could feel the back of his fur stand up in fear as he saw the faces of those two again, from the alleyway. They leaned off of a pole and stared at J'zhar with a wicked smile.

Or maybe J'zhar was seeing things, they did not seem particularly expressive in any form now.

"So, you showed up. S'kar guesses we do not have to track you down and kill you, after all," S'kar said.

"The night's still young, who knows what will happen yet," Do'mar said, and both of them laughed.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm told you're working with the Gold Cat?" Rajirr said bluntly.

"Straight to the point, then?" S'kar said. "Yes, we work for the Gold Cat, and Ya'tirrje would like an audience with your companion, the bold nephew of the Mane. You would be most wise to not refuse this request, the Gold Cat does not like to be kept waiting."

"Well, we're here. Let's get on with it," Rajirr said.

S'kar clasped his fingers and bowed, before turning away and walking down a nearby alleyway. Do'mar gave a stern, untrusting look at Rajirr, who returned it just as fiercely, before also turning around and following S'kar.

Rajirr and J'zhar followed behind side by side.

J'zhar lifted up a hand on the side of his mouth and whispered to Rajirr. "J'zhar thought no one is allowed to see the Gold Cat, why are we having an audience with them?"

Rajirr shook his head and shrugged.

"It is a fair question, and you are wise to ask it," S'kar said, overhearing J'zhar. "Ya'tirrje's empty throne was as much his armor as it was his cage," he continued.

S'kar turned around and walked backwards, facing J'zhar and Rajirr. He held out his hands as he spoke.

"He learned the error of his ways when the Void Nights started, and one of his competitors took over the market in one swift act. Now he lives in hiding, and has no choice but to work directly to take back all that he lost. Only a few of us remain, but we are loyal, and filled with vengeance."

"What does that have to do with this one?" J'zhar asked.

"Ah, this one is not allowed to speak on behalf of Ya'tirrje in that matter, just know that your assistance would be of great value. In return, you would be granted almost anything of an equal value, should you succeed. Was it not you that said you were seeking the Gold Cat in the first place, to make an 'arrangement' with him?"

J'zhar took a quick glance at Rajirr. "Yes, that is correct," J'zhar said warily.

"Good. Then you shall both get what you want," S'kar said.

The group reached a pile of hay in a dark alleyway, and Do'mar brushed it aside, revealing an iron cellar door below. He knocked on it with a certain rhythm and pattern.

"Wodra hekose wo var an keth," Do'mar said in Ta'agra. It roughly translates to 'the streets will run with sugar and blood'.

There was a brief silence. "C'mon, it's Do'mar. We brought the suckers Ya'tirrje asked for," he added.

J'zhar gave a worried glance to Rajirr, who didn't seem too fazed.

Finally there was a sound coming from behind the door, like it was being unbarred, and unlocked. The cellar door got pushed open, and immediately an aroma erupted out of it, that smelled both sweet and disgusting. There was a short Dagi on the other side holding the door open, and he seemed to be checking around to make sure no one else was nearby. He waved us all in.

One by one, we descended into a dank, brick hallway, and the sound of the cellar door behind us slamming shut and being barred again made J'zhar feel suddenly claustrophobic.

The group passed by some closed doors leading to other rooms, but continued down the maze-like corridor, until eventually coming across a Cathay guarding a curtain door. She stepped aside, and let the group pass through the curtain. They entered a large square room with a rug in the center, and a few Khajiit laying about. A Senche, a pair of Suthay, and a Tojay-raht.

All but the Tojay-raht were sitting down next to bubblers filled presumably with Skooma, while he guarded another curtain at the other side of the room.

"Just a moment, this one will inform Ya'tirrje of your arrival," S'kar said, bowing. He and Do'mar walked past the Tojay-raht and into the next room, and Rajirr and J'zhar stood awkwardly waiting for their return.

J'zhar was not sure what to think of any of this. First he was told that the Gold Cat doesn't let anyone see them, and then now he is?

The insistence that J'zhar see him as well, was quite unnerving, even if it technically helps their cause for coming here to Senchal in the first place. Well, it helps Rajirr's cause anyway. J'zhar just wants to get out of this alive.

An Ohmes woman with long black hair, painted markings on her face, and wearing an ornate dress with blues and golds, walked out from behind the curtains. She stood on the opposite side of the curtain door.

"The Gold Cat known as Ya'tirrje will see you now," she said.

J'zhar stepped forward to pass through, but she held up her hand. Her eyes were set on J'zhar like daggers, dissecting and analyzing him. J'zhar would find it amusing, if she did not look so serious.

Soon after, four Cathay-raht, including S'kar and Do'mar, carried a lofty palanquin throne into the room, which only carried a small, yellow Alfiq on it.

That was it. J'zhar looked down at his feet and covered his mouth with his hand, pretending to cough. Surely this could not be Ya'tirrje, the Gold Cat. A tiny Alfiq? The mastermind of the criminal underworld for over a hundred years?

J'zhar quickly straightened up and pretended to bow in respect as the Palanquin was set on the ground. The Ohmes walked over and stood by the Gold Cat, facing him, while the Cathay-raht dispersed around the room.

Ya'tirrje began to sign to the Ohmes, which bizarrely she seemed to understand, for how young she looked, and translated for us.

"The Gold Cat would like everyone but this one, Ya'tirrje, J'zhar, and Rajirr, to leave the room," she said.

Do'mar looked flabbergasted. "Are you sure, Ya'tirrje? Surely at least one of us-"

"You included, Do'mar, you must leave. Everyone except the names of those already stated. No one must eavesdrop, or there will be consequences."

As per the request, everyone else got up and walked out of the room, even the presumed bodyguards. J'zhar was not sure how to feel about this. In some strange way, he felt even less safe now.

After enough time passed, that they were sure no one was longer within earshot, the Gold Cat signed to the Ohmes once more.

"The Gold Cat says to thank you for agreeing to meet him on such short notice," the Ohmes said, and pulled out two cloth bags and presented one to both J'zhar and Rajirr. There was a noticeable ire as she handed the one to J'zhar. She walked back to Ya'tirrje.

"Inside you will find pure Moon Sugar, free of the taint brought about by the Void Nights. Keep it, and enjoy it as a token of the Gold Cat, and a sign of things to come," she said.

J'zhar opened his mouth to ask a question, but Rajirr bumped him, to keep him quiet.

"Thank you, Ya'tirrje," Rajirr said, and bowed politely.

J'zhar was taken aback by this display of generosity, before we even agreed to do anything, we were being rewarded. Perhaps this is just all part of their plan, though, to lure us in under the false pretense that he appreciates our cooperation.

"The Gold Cat wishes you to know that he understands that it may seem like his generosity is merely a ruse to lure you in under the false pretense that he appreciates your cooperation," she said, almost as if reading his mind, "but he assures you, this is no trick. The time is over for underhanded plays and manipulative schemes. He wishes to offer you the opportunity of a prosperous partnership, from which we can all benefit," she said.

She turned back to receive more instructions from Ya'tirrje, before continuing.

"You are probably wondering, J'zhar, why we are glad you have chosen to arrive in Senchal when you did, and why S'kar thought you could be able to help us," she said.

J'zhar opened his mouth to speak, but saw Rajirr glaring at him, so he just nodded.

Once more the Gold Cat signed to the Ohmes. "While you may call yourself the nephew of the Mane, we know this not to be entirely true. In fact, we know that it was the Mane that was assassinated, and your father, Ra-Zara'chi, who has taken up his role in secret, and is responsible for the Void Nights crisis," she said matter-of-factly.

J'zhar was stunned, if Ya'tirrje knew that much, who else knows about that already? He suddenly wondered if he was even safe to be in Elsweyr anymore.

"Fear not," she continued. "We realize that you yourself had no part in this, and that judging by your actions afterwards, you may not entirely agree with your father's goals."

J'zhar still just had his mouth hanging open from his secrets being laid bare as if they were common facts you could read in a newspaper. Ya'tirrje even knows about the prisoners he helped to free?

"Despite this, you are still Ra-Zara'chi's son, so you will be seen as an ally to those he himself has allied with, one of which is the notorious entity known as the Fur Trader, whom you will have certainly heard about by now in Senchal."

J'zhar nodded, and gulped, fearing where this was going to lead.

"He has always been a thorn in our side, and the people of Senchal particularly, but his association with Ra-Zara'chi and the group known as the Renrijra Krin elevated him to become a significant threat. Due to his prior awareness of when the Void Nights would start, he has been able to stockpile pure Moon Sugar in his hometown of Orcrest for years now. This was so that when it started, he could hold a monopoly over the market, when everyone else was at their most desperate," she said, and paused for more instructions from the Gold Cat.

"With this in mind, and with the full force of the ever growing reformed Renrijra Krin movement, he has been able to rival the influence that the Gold Cat once had across Elsweyr, and forced Ya'tirrje into hiding. The Fur Trader took residence in a palace in Senchal that once belonged to the Gold Cat, where all the Moon Sugar he ever amassed remains," the Ohmes said, and turned back to the Gold Cat.

"So let me save you some time," Rajirr interrupted. "I guess you're gonna say you want J'zhar to go and use his connection with Ra-Zara'chi to somehow get close to the Fur Trader so we can off him, so you can get your Moon Sugar back?" Rajirr asked.

The Gold Cat signed a short sentence. "In a manner of speaking, yes," the Ohmes said.

"And this is the Fur Trader," J'zhar said. "The same Fur Trader spoken of in scary children's stories, who deals in the trade of selling Khajiit fur. He who stalks dark alleyways for his next victims, and built an empire literally off of the skin and bones of his foes?"

"Yes," the Ohmes said, without waiting for the Gold Cat to sign it.

J'zhar dropped the bag of Moon Sugar he was given and slowly backed away. "This one thanks you for the kind gesture and offer of partnership, Ya'tirrje, but J'zhar is afraid we will have to respectfully-"

"We'll do it," Rajirr interrupted.