"Eh, a bit of both." Hiritus answered. "Talented people can earn a [i]lot[/i] of wealth and influence from the Daedric Prince of wishes, which, as a sidenote, is not that intimidating of a title said out loud. Regardless, someone like me, an orphaned street rat from the slums of Dune, can get more than he ever could on his own. I don't know how I ever survived my childhood in that place. Nearly didn't, if I'm being honest. It took me a while to actually become a decent thief. I figure after this is all over, I'll be able to get a small manor by the ocean, maybe hire some hands to farm the land for moon sugar, maybe some lovely servants, and live the rest of my days comfortably. And I'll even have helped wipe out a disease that's been threatening Tamriel for all of recorded history. It's not often that someone can earn a fortune and still feel good about themselves afterwards."

Hiritus' walking pace has settled to a steady, if slightly slowed pace, and he was not longer showing as many signs of weakness. Of course, unless he remained well-fed and received frequent care from healers, it could be weeks before he was back to normal. "Of course, I would hardly call Clavicus Vile one of the 'good' Daedra. I doubt he's doing this out of charity. He wants something out of it, and I wouldn't be surprised if he hasn't told even the General himself. My guess is he wants to take some of Hircine's power, so he needs to weaken him first by killing his followers. But, I don't know. I don't know why he's doing it, or how we're actually going to finish the culling, but I know there is a plan in place."