Meesei nodded in response to Janius. "Alright, thank you, Janius." At the same time, Neesa shifted her focus to one of her underlings, the Altmer vampire.
"Vinaremo, take a few others and escort our guest back to their camp. And make sure to actually have some of the others help him; I would rather you not spend the next few hours walking back and forth from the xanmeer." She ordered in a somewhat condescending tone.
"At once, my lady." He responded with a slight bow before stepping away to request the assistance of a few of the other mages.
"Oh, and Nulik." Neesa began, calling the attention of one of the other robed mages, this one a mortal Argonian. "Be sure to show the remainder of our guests to their rooms."
No one in the pack, including Meesei, had any real desire to extend the conversation with Neesa so all except for Janius began to follow the Argonian tasked with taking them to their rooms. Meesei was sure to walk alongside Sabine, placing a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. "Are you alright, Sabine? Do not blame yourself, there was nothing you could do."
Meanwhile, Vinaremo and a few of the other hooded individuals that had previously escorted them approached Janius. Perhaps intentionally, they seemed to surround him while the Altmer spoke. "Well, it looks like you will be remaining with us for a while. You know, I am glad we did not kill you on sight. I was skeptical at first, but I see now that this was a wonderful idea. To think, we could have missed out on having such obedient servants at our command? I am excited for what is to come; I have always wanted a dog." If his words were not enough, the Altmer actually reached out and rubbed his hand through Janius' hair like a dog before turning to lead the way out of the catacombs. "Come, dog, let's go fetch your things."
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"I am...glad you see it that way." Meesei commented, definitely offended, and definitely careful not to show it. "In exchange for a truce in the coming war, what service would you require we perform for you?"
Hal-Neesa held up one hand, as if to stop Meesei. "Not so fast. I am not keen on dealing with Clavicus Vile, but for a matter such as this, that influences my entire court, I need to discuss the matter with my husband. He is away dealing with an important matter for the moment, and shall be for a few more days at minimum. If we agree to make a deal with you, then I do have a task in mind, but you should not concern yourself with it right now. Until my husband returns, you shall remain here, and you may not leave, with the exception of one person, accompanied by a group of my underlings, to collect whatever belongings you require at your camp. You will not be confined to your quarters for your stay, but be warned, do not prove yourself a nuisance. You may not enter the quarters of anyone else without permission, and you may not disturb my experiments, or those of my underlings. Beyond that, remain courteous, and you shall not be harmed. Cause problems and you can be sure that I will make good use of your corpses."
Shortly after Neesa finished speaking, another set of footsteps could be heard from down the hall behind them. Through the door into the chamber entered four more of the mages, in the middle of which was Sabine, holding a crying Rhazii in her arms. Evidently, the mages did not care about the young wamasu, as Leaps was also following on Sabine's heels.
The moment she saw Rhazii, Ahnasha abandoned any sense of formality and rushed to Sabine. She knelt down beside her and gently, but quickly took Rhazii into her arms, holding him close to her chest. Her familiar embrace helped to silence the infant cub, which was fortunate, as a few of the mages around them looked moderately annoyed by the screaming. "Oh, Rhazii, thank Hircine you're alright. He hasn't been harmed, has he?" Ahnasha was quick to ask. It might have been considered insensitive that Ahnasha did not seem concerned about Sabine's safety, but considering that she was a new mother fearing for her cub's safety, it was understandable.
Hal-Neesa held up one hand, as if to stop Meesei. "Not so fast. I am not keen on dealing with Clavicus Vile, but for a matter such as this, that influences my entire court, I need to discuss the matter with my husband. He is away dealing with an important matter for the moment, and shall be for a few more days at minimum. If we agree to make a deal with you, then I do have a task in mind, but you should not concern yourself with it right now. Until my husband returns, you shall remain here, and you may not leave, with the exception of one person, accompanied by a group of my underlings, to collect whatever belongings you require at your camp. You will not be confined to your quarters for your stay, but be warned, do not prove yourself a nuisance. You may not enter the quarters of anyone else without permission, and you may not disturb my experiments, or those of my underlings. Beyond that, remain courteous, and you shall not be harmed. Cause problems and you can be sure that I will make good use of your corpses."
Shortly after Neesa finished speaking, another set of footsteps could be heard from down the hall behind them. Through the door into the chamber entered four more of the mages, in the middle of which was Sabine, holding a crying Rhazii in her arms. Evidently, the mages did not care about the young wamasu, as Leaps was also following on Sabine's heels.
The moment she saw Rhazii, Ahnasha abandoned any sense of formality and rushed to Sabine. She knelt down beside her and gently, but quickly took Rhazii into her arms, holding him close to her chest. Her familiar embrace helped to silence the infant cub, which was fortunate, as a few of the mages around them looked moderately annoyed by the screaming. "Oh, Rhazii, thank Hircine you're alright. He hasn't been harmed, has he?" Ahnasha was quick to ask. It might have been considered insensitive that Ahnasha did not seem concerned about Sabine's safety, but considering that she was a new mother fearing for her cub's safety, it was understandable.
Meesei gave a polite nod. "Very well, Hal-Neesa. As you know, the trickster Clavicus Vile has ignited a war with our Lord. We do not seek an alliance, nor expect any support from you, but we would like a mutually beneficial arrangement to prevent us from crossing paths on the battlefield." Meesei explained.
Hal-Neesa tapped a claw on the arm of her throne as Meesei spoke, then let out a short laugh once she finished. "You are a regular politician, aren't you? You've gone through the extra effort to know your audience for your argument. You've tailored every word to be something I might agree to. Respectable, but let's drop the facade. What you want is a pre-emptive truce so you do not have to fight us and your enemy. You want that bad enough that you are willing to grovel at my feet to make me happy so I will agree. I've seen this song and dance play out innumerable times through the centuries, and this is no different. Even the Lords you serve have changed to some extent. That business with Umbra, when was it...two centuries ago? It made Vile in particular rather desperate. Desperate enough to make the very same deal you want, I would wager."
This vampire, Hal-Neesa, was a very different opponent from what Meesei was used to. She had no way of knowing exactly how long she had lived, but it was clear she had at least centuries of experience. On the bright side, it meant they could get straight to the core of what they wanted with no unnecessary fluff to the conversation, but it also meant Meesei would have to drastically change her tactics. "You are correct. We want something, and are willing to give a service to attain it. I am sure Vile will try to make a deal as well, but I am willing to prove that we are the better party to deal with. Clavicus Vile..." Meesei began, but was interrupted by Neesa before she could finish.
"Yes, yes, I know, you need not make your little argument. Clavicus Vile is a self-serving liar...like most Daedra, but he is particularly good at it. On the other hand, Hircine is a tempting target to strike. You lycans have powerful, valuable souls and make excellent subjects for our experiments. It is likely why Vile is so interested in you. The reason I have not elected to take your souls yet is because of one or two...details. For one, Vile's followers tend to collect souls much more than you lycans, so they are also wonderful targets. Two, Vile is marginally more...annoying to deal with. His followers tend to try and push deals in their favor, while you lycans are wonderfully obedient. Being barbarians in the wilds, you aren't so demanding; you will do whatever I say to gain my favor. Like a good little dog, if I throw a bone, you will go fetch it. For that reason, I am...slightly more inclined to make a deal with you than Vile. Of course, I do not have to make a deal with either of you, but I will concede that there is some advantage with only having to worry about one side in a war." Neesa was blunt, sparing no unkind words in her assessment of the situation. Neesa was well-aware that she had all of the power in their bargaining. Overall, Meesei was at a loss. She had never been forced into a situation such as this before, where she had little control over her circumstances. All she could hope for was that Neesa's demands would not be too unsavory.
Hal-Neesa tapped a claw on the arm of her throne as Meesei spoke, then let out a short laugh once she finished. "You are a regular politician, aren't you? You've gone through the extra effort to know your audience for your argument. You've tailored every word to be something I might agree to. Respectable, but let's drop the facade. What you want is a pre-emptive truce so you do not have to fight us and your enemy. You want that bad enough that you are willing to grovel at my feet to make me happy so I will agree. I've seen this song and dance play out innumerable times through the centuries, and this is no different. Even the Lords you serve have changed to some extent. That business with Umbra, when was it...two centuries ago? It made Vile in particular rather desperate. Desperate enough to make the very same deal you want, I would wager."
This vampire, Hal-Neesa, was a very different opponent from what Meesei was used to. She had no way of knowing exactly how long she had lived, but it was clear she had at least centuries of experience. On the bright side, it meant they could get straight to the core of what they wanted with no unnecessary fluff to the conversation, but it also meant Meesei would have to drastically change her tactics. "You are correct. We want something, and are willing to give a service to attain it. I am sure Vile will try to make a deal as well, but I am willing to prove that we are the better party to deal with. Clavicus Vile..." Meesei began, but was interrupted by Neesa before she could finish.
"Yes, yes, I know, you need not make your little argument. Clavicus Vile is a self-serving liar...like most Daedra, but he is particularly good at it. On the other hand, Hircine is a tempting target to strike. You lycans have powerful, valuable souls and make excellent subjects for our experiments. It is likely why Vile is so interested in you. The reason I have not elected to take your souls yet is because of one or two...details. For one, Vile's followers tend to collect souls much more than you lycans, so they are also wonderful targets. Two, Vile is marginally more...annoying to deal with. His followers tend to try and push deals in their favor, while you lycans are wonderfully obedient. Being barbarians in the wilds, you aren't so demanding; you will do whatever I say to gain my favor. Like a good little dog, if I throw a bone, you will go fetch it. For that reason, I am...slightly more inclined to make a deal with you than Vile. Of course, I do not have to make a deal with either of you, but I will concede that there is some advantage with only having to worry about one side in a war." Neesa was blunt, sparing no unkind words in her assessment of the situation. Neesa was well-aware that she had all of the power in their bargaining. Overall, Meesei was at a loss. She had never been forced into a situation such as this before, where she had little control over her circumstances. All she could hope for was that Neesa's demands would not be too unsavory.
Indeed. It's a chance to get a glimpse of what she was like before...it might not be pleasant.
I think I'll be going to bed for now. Goodnight.
I think I'll be going to bed for now. Goodnight.
Ok, so it still took a little while.
Ahnasha returned Fendros' fear in triplicate. The thought of her son being taken by these power-hungry cultists nearly caused her to start running right then and there to get back to the camp, but the rational part of her mind stopped her. If they already knew where they had made camp, then they were certainly already there. They had Sabine and Rhazii, there was no denying that. All she could hope for now was to stay in the good graces of these filthy cultists until she could find him again. For that reason, she was going to be certain that neither she, nor anyone else in the pack did anything to anger them.
The cultists lead the pack up one of the intact stairways leading to the top of the xanmeer, being sure to keep them surrounded at all times. Once at its apex, the Altmer used telekinesis to move aside tablet of stone beneath them that covered the entrance. It was somewhat inconvenient to get everyone down into the catacombs, as the only way down was a single ladder, but once inside, Meesei was thoroughly shocked at what she saw. As opposed to the worn ruins above, these catacombs were the most pristine example of ancient Argonian architecture she had ever seen, and likely ever would see. They looked like they had been lived in and maintained since the day they were first built. No moss grew along the walls, no stone had any significant crack or fault, and every carving was in near-perfect condition. Meesei could still feel that sense of dread which originated from the cult's magic, but the atmosphere felt entirely different. In better circumstances, Meesei would have loved to examine the place more thoroughly.
The Altmer and Argonian led the pack through the well-lit hallways, while most of the other guards followed behind. The hallway they were in was not especially wide or tall, but there seemed to be a lot of them, as they passed quite a few on their way to wherever the cultists were taking them. Instead of torches, the sconces that lined the walls had within them a permanent enchantment of magelight, with tinted glass cases that prevented them from being too bright. They passed by a few more cultists on the way; not all wore the black robes of their guards, but most appeared to be mages as well. It seemed that might be a requirement for entry into this particular cult.
Eventually, the pack was lead into a larger chamber just as pristine as the catacombs they had been walking through. While the stonework was still of course in the ancient Argonian style, all of the furnishings had a more modern feel. On either side of the chamber, there were rows of long tables and chairs, all currently empty. High up from the ceiling hung extravagant, blood-red tapestries woven with symbols of Molag Bal, while on the walls there were, of all things, paintings on a wide variety of subjects. Some appeared to be Argonian in style, while others looked to originate from Morrowind, Elsweyr, and even Cyrodiil. At the far end of the chamber, near the center was an elevated platform with two identical thrones. One was empty, but seated in the other was a pale Argonian woman partially obscured in shadow in a finely embroidered red and violet dress. The guards following them spread out to fill up the empty space in the room as the Altmer led them to the base of his master's throne.
"My lady, these are the intruders. They came without incident." He explained.
"Excellent. I much prefer it when my guests accept my...hospitality. You are dismissed, Vinaremo. Now, for our guests, I feel we should become better acquainted. Tell me, what brings you to my home? Why, in a time of war such as this, has a pack of lycans found it prudent to intrude upon my domain?" The Argonian woman asked in a tone that could be described as "politely threatening."
Meesei managed to keep a calm visage, but even she was struggling not to show her fears in such a situation. They were in the heart of a dangerous and powerful cult, who likely had two members of her pack in their hands. Any mistake could lead to the deaths of herself or those she cares about, so she had to be careful. "My name is Meesei. I am the Champion of Lord Hircine." She said, raising up her hand which bore the ring. "We have come on behalf of our lord, not to fight, but for peaceful discord. We wish to discuss how this war with Clavicus Vile will affect us all. By what title should I call you?" She requested. Her tone was polite, but she made sure it did not sound meek. While she did not wish to anger these cultists, she also did not want to appear weak to them.
Through the shadows, Meesei could see a slight grin on the woman's face. "Title? Those in my domain often call me master, their lord and lady, but you, why you are my guests..." She began, clasping her hands together and leaning forward slightly, bringing her face into the light. She had orange coloration on her neck with eyes to match, pale white scales, and two prominent horns on her head which curved down and forwards, each decorated with gold jewelry. "...you may call me Hal-Neesa."
The cultists lead the pack up one of the intact stairways leading to the top of the xanmeer, being sure to keep them surrounded at all times. Once at its apex, the Altmer used telekinesis to move aside tablet of stone beneath them that covered the entrance. It was somewhat inconvenient to get everyone down into the catacombs, as the only way down was a single ladder, but once inside, Meesei was thoroughly shocked at what she saw. As opposed to the worn ruins above, these catacombs were the most pristine example of ancient Argonian architecture she had ever seen, and likely ever would see. They looked like they had been lived in and maintained since the day they were first built. No moss grew along the walls, no stone had any significant crack or fault, and every carving was in near-perfect condition. Meesei could still feel that sense of dread which originated from the cult's magic, but the atmosphere felt entirely different. In better circumstances, Meesei would have loved to examine the place more thoroughly.
The Altmer and Argonian led the pack through the well-lit hallways, while most of the other guards followed behind. The hallway they were in was not especially wide or tall, but there seemed to be a lot of them, as they passed quite a few on their way to wherever the cultists were taking them. Instead of torches, the sconces that lined the walls had within them a permanent enchantment of magelight, with tinted glass cases that prevented them from being too bright. They passed by a few more cultists on the way; not all wore the black robes of their guards, but most appeared to be mages as well. It seemed that might be a requirement for entry into this particular cult.
Eventually, the pack was lead into a larger chamber just as pristine as the catacombs they had been walking through. While the stonework was still of course in the ancient Argonian style, all of the furnishings had a more modern feel. On either side of the chamber, there were rows of long tables and chairs, all currently empty. High up from the ceiling hung extravagant, blood-red tapestries woven with symbols of Molag Bal, while on the walls there were, of all things, paintings on a wide variety of subjects. Some appeared to be Argonian in style, while others looked to originate from Morrowind, Elsweyr, and even Cyrodiil. At the far end of the chamber, near the center was an elevated platform with two identical thrones. One was empty, but seated in the other was a pale Argonian woman partially obscured in shadow in a finely embroidered red and violet dress. The guards following them spread out to fill up the empty space in the room as the Altmer led them to the base of his master's throne.
"My lady, these are the intruders. They came without incident." He explained.
"Excellent. I much prefer it when my guests accept my...hospitality. You are dismissed, Vinaremo. Now, for our guests, I feel we should become better acquainted. Tell me, what brings you to my home? Why, in a time of war such as this, has a pack of lycans found it prudent to intrude upon my domain?" The Argonian woman asked in a tone that could be described as "politely threatening."
Meesei managed to keep a calm visage, but even she was struggling not to show her fears in such a situation. They were in the heart of a dangerous and powerful cult, who likely had two members of her pack in their hands. Any mistake could lead to the deaths of herself or those she cares about, so she had to be careful. "My name is Meesei. I am the Champion of Lord Hircine." She said, raising up her hand which bore the ring. "We have come on behalf of our lord, not to fight, but for peaceful discord. We wish to discuss how this war with Clavicus Vile will affect us all. By what title should I call you?" She requested. Her tone was polite, but she made sure it did not sound meek. While she did not wish to anger these cultists, she also did not want to appear weak to them.
Through the shadows, Meesei could see a slight grin on the woman's face. "Title? Those in my domain often call me master, their lord and lady, but you, why you are my guests..." She began, clasping her hands together and leaning forward slightly, bringing her face into the light. She had orange coloration on her neck with eyes to match, pale white scales, and two prominent horns on her head which curved down and forwards, each decorated with gold jewelry. "...you may call me Hal-Neesa."
Or, actually, I think I'll save that other part for later.
Next one might take a little bit to finish.
Nothing about this was going the way Meesei would have liked, but at the very least, they were not being immediately hostile. In their current situation, Meesei reasoned that they might be able to emerge victorious in a fight, depending upon the skill of the cultists, or at the very least, they could escape, but not without casualties. Hircine himself would have to intervene if they wanted to avoid losing someone, so Meesei would cooperate for now.
"We do not have any problem speaking to your leader. In fact, that is why we are here; we did not come here to fight." Meesei explained briefly.
The Altmer was entirely unfazed by Fendros' glare, to the point that he essentially ignored it. For Meesei, he only seemed to regard her words with mild interest. "I see. Well, I do not actually care why you are here, or what you want. It is the master's curiosity I am here to satisfy, not mine. Let us just get inside, and get this over with."
"Very well." Meesei responded, hiding her annoyance. "I am guessing you wish for us to disarm?"
"You may keep your weapons. I assure you, they would not matter." He answered, doing nothing to dispel the stereotype of Altmer arrogance. "Oh, and do not worry about the little ones you left behind, we have sent people to collect them. They will be joining us promptly."
Back at camp, the fog in the air seemed to thicken to the point that it was difficult to see more than a few feet away. The feeling of dread only became stronger, which made it difficult to keep Rhazii from crying for his mother. Even Leaps was curled up frightened at Sabine's feet. Just like with the rest of the pack, when the cultists arrived, it was sudden. Four robed Argonians backed up by three skeletons appeared from the fog, as if invisible, surrounding Sabine on all sides. She had no chance to move before they blocked all escape, but they did not attack. Instead, a dark-scaled Argonian stepped forward and addressed her. "Do not attempt to run, little lycan. You will not escape, and you will not survive. You would not be alive if we wished to kill you. Our master demands the presence of you and your pack, so you are going to come with us."
"We do not have any problem speaking to your leader. In fact, that is why we are here; we did not come here to fight." Meesei explained briefly.
The Altmer was entirely unfazed by Fendros' glare, to the point that he essentially ignored it. For Meesei, he only seemed to regard her words with mild interest. "I see. Well, I do not actually care why you are here, or what you want. It is the master's curiosity I am here to satisfy, not mine. Let us just get inside, and get this over with."
"Very well." Meesei responded, hiding her annoyance. "I am guessing you wish for us to disarm?"
"You may keep your weapons. I assure you, they would not matter." He answered, doing nothing to dispel the stereotype of Altmer arrogance. "Oh, and do not worry about the little ones you left behind, we have sent people to collect them. They will be joining us promptly."
Back at camp, the fog in the air seemed to thicken to the point that it was difficult to see more than a few feet away. The feeling of dread only became stronger, which made it difficult to keep Rhazii from crying for his mother. Even Leaps was curled up frightened at Sabine's feet. Just like with the rest of the pack, when the cultists arrived, it was sudden. Four robed Argonians backed up by three skeletons appeared from the fog, as if invisible, surrounding Sabine on all sides. She had no chance to move before they blocked all escape, but they did not attack. Instead, a dark-scaled Argonian stepped forward and addressed her. "Do not attempt to run, little lycan. You will not escape, and you will not survive. You would not be alive if we wished to kill you. Our master demands the presence of you and your pack, so you are going to come with us."
After leading them back down to the room, Murnglesh went back upstairs to return to her duties, leaving the others to their conversation. Swims was glad to be able to give his thanks to Khaj, though he wasn't too certain what to say beyond that. Khaj had been an acquaintance for him and Veria, but it wasn't as if they were close friends. Still, they were on friendly terms, so he was sure he could find something to speak about.
"So, Khaj, how have things been going for you since you entered the Legion? I can't say I know much about a soldier's life." Swims asked.
Khaj went over to the table in the corner and took a seat on one of the old, wooden chairs. "Well, Khaj made captain. He has his own patrol now. Honestly, though, for now at least, we are more guards than soldiers. The Dominion is a threatening presence, but the bandits and other vagabonds that operate in this area are more of an immediate concern. Khaj does not disagree with that sentiment; he would much rather fight criminals than soldiers."
"You certainly do know how to fight. I...don't remember much, but I think I remember you taking them out very quickly. I can't wait until I am good enough to do that." Swims remarked.
Khaj put on more of a concerned expression and let out a slight sigh. "Look, Swims...Khaj spoke to Veria, he knows why you were out here. It is easy to understand why you would want to get away, but...please, just go home. Khaj spent years training to learn how to fight, he is a soldier. You do not have that, and a patrol may not come around next time to save you. Khajiit does not wish to insult you, he is just speaking the truth. You are not soldiers, please do not put yourself into danger."
"I...I understand." Swims responded. He wanted to shout in protest, but deep down, he knew Khaj was right. If he was as good as he wished he was, those bandits would not have bested them. Swims turned his head and looked to Veria with a saddened expression. "After I get better...do you want to head back to Leyawiin?"
"So, Khaj, how have things been going for you since you entered the Legion? I can't say I know much about a soldier's life." Swims asked.
Khaj went over to the table in the corner and took a seat on one of the old, wooden chairs. "Well, Khaj made captain. He has his own patrol now. Honestly, though, for now at least, we are more guards than soldiers. The Dominion is a threatening presence, but the bandits and other vagabonds that operate in this area are more of an immediate concern. Khaj does not disagree with that sentiment; he would much rather fight criminals than soldiers."
"You certainly do know how to fight. I...don't remember much, but I think I remember you taking them out very quickly. I can't wait until I am good enough to do that." Swims remarked.
Khaj put on more of a concerned expression and let out a slight sigh. "Look, Swims...Khaj spoke to Veria, he knows why you were out here. It is easy to understand why you would want to get away, but...please, just go home. Khaj spent years training to learn how to fight, he is a soldier. You do not have that, and a patrol may not come around next time to save you. Khajiit does not wish to insult you, he is just speaking the truth. You are not soldiers, please do not put yourself into danger."
"I...I understand." Swims responded. He wanted to shout in protest, but deep down, he knew Khaj was right. If he was as good as he wished he was, those bandits would not have bested them. Swims turned his head and looked to Veria with a saddened expression. "After I get better...do you want to head back to Leyawiin?"
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