vvardenfellcat

Magnus rises in the Atronach

astarill:

“I should hope you are familiar with the theory that the energy commonly denoted as ‘magicka’ falls to Mundus from Aetherius in its raw form, and that every entity within Mundus has a quantifiable capacity to absorb, store and transform this energy into a workable form – yes?”

He left the Khajiit little time to answer, rising from his seat. “Among those born during the period when the constellation of the Atronach stands in the sky where the sun rises, there are a few individuals that are severely limited if not wholly incapable of processing magicka in its pure, Aetherial form. They can only absorb transformed magicka, and deprived as they are, they will do so much more readily than anyone else. I think you’ll find that’s your problem.”

He crossed his arms and leaned himself back against the desk. “If you care to break your head over the ‘why’ of the matter, I suggest you seek out an astronomer. Or lacking that, a scholar at a temple, if you can stand that kind of people. But for now, I believe your priority ought to be to familiarize yourself with your relative position in the cosmos and learn to compensate for it.”

He wasn’t familiar, no, but…some of it sounded faintly familiar (if confusing for a moment or two afterwards while he worked out roughly what was said, anyways). Was it something he read, or had it just been briefly mentioned in class? He’d have to look at his notes… The Khajiit’s attention snapped back to the mer when he stood, his tail curling a little closer to his legs before Astarill moved to lean against his desk instead. J’hasi’s ears flicked back a little at mention of temple scholars, but otherwise was still until his tail tip started ticking back and forth, thinking.

“So…um… Me being born under the Atronach is why I can’t…get my spells to work?” he asked, eyes flicking back up from where they’d been focused elsewhere while thinking, ears cocked. He wasn’t exactly sure what was all meant, with absorbing m-

His thoughts stopped dead, eyebrows rising a little for a moment. Was that why spells didn’t always hurt him? At the time he’d just been grateful for what he’d thought was other mages messing up on their magic, but… Dargzalzi had mentioned him being difficult to cast spells on, all the troubles with Colette and nearly every other healer that had attempted to heal him with magic, and the many, many times he’d been struck with blasts of fire, shock, Illusion and Alteration magics alike when some times they’d do something, others they just….

They usually just felt like how his hands did when he cast the spell. Tingly, weird, but he wasn’t hurt. J’hasi’s eyes flicked back to the Altmer’s, tail still.

“I…I had no idea that…” He frowned, a bit of confusion still lingering.

“Wait, so that would affect my own spells too? I mean, sometimes I can cast them, but sometimes they blow up in my face too.”

In The Icy Cold

sneaktheif:

@vvardenfellcat

The snow in Winterhold was different than any Peyt had seen before. She’d seen snow, sure, but it was wet, fleeting flurries on a cold morning on the plains, or on her way to Solitude. She always thought it was immaterial, ethereal; something that was not all the way there. Up here though, it was solid, cold, hard, and indescribably beautiful.

There was something about the way it sparkled as the clouds passed over the sun, something about the bright blue bits of glacier she could see poking out among the glimmering blanket of white, something about the way Alcippe’s hooves sounded on the frozen road, and the soft scratch scratch of Braena’s paws beside them. It drew her in and gave her a sense of wonder.

It started to flurry as she came into town. She dismounted and tied Alcippe to the railing of the inn as Braena moved to be at her side, her ears up and listening. She tried to think about the job ahead of her, but it was a simple protection job, escorting someone from here to somewhere else, and she was distracted by the snow falling around her. She looked up at it, watched the flakes float down, and suddenly wondered what they tasted like.

She held her hand out to catch one, but as soon as it hit her uncloved palm it melted, so she turned her arm over and tried to catch one on her bracer. Once one had landed she stuck her tongue to it, but as she pulled it back, her tongue became stuck to the metal. She tried again but it was no use, it felt like she would rip her tongue off if she kept trying.

Tears sprang instantly to her eyes, and a strangled squeal erupted from her. Alcippe nickered in concern, blowing her hot breath over Peyt’s neck, and Braena brushed against her hand, licking it gently. Peyt started crying harder; she didn’t know what to do.

J’hasi started a little when he looked up from his frustrated trek to the Hearth, seeing that someone was standing in the road, horse and dog accompanying them. Though it was more the noise they’d made that had caught his attention, his brows rising at the tears he could see in the Khajiit’s eyes, gaze flicking down to their mouth and seeing the cause of their distress.

…they’d gotten their tongue frozen to their bracer. Not an ideal way to meet someone from a new town, so however they ended up in this mess, he could at least help them out of it before someone of a less considerate nature found out. J’hasi lifted up his hands in hopes to calm them down as he approached, trying not to look at their tongue too much, remembering all too well that feeling of panic when he’d been stuck in a similar situation.

“H-hey, it’s okay, I can help you out alright? Don’t pull on it, it’s just gonna hurt.” He bit his lip, knowing that he needed to get some warm water, but unsure if they’d actually follow him into the inn. Or if there would be unwanted company, but…considering this stranger’s situation, he’d have more than a few words if someone decided to poke fun at the Khajiit’s expense. He gestured to the inn.

“C’mon, a little warm water and it’ll come off, okay?”

He opened the door a crack, seeing that only Ranmir was halfway to passed out in the back, and the usual occupants of no-one-else, sans the innkeeper who turned to look at him. J’hasi opened the door wider, beckoning the stranger inside.

“Won’t take long, okay? Won’t hurt either, promise. Just go sit by the fire, okay?”

Under Saarthal – Icarus/J’hasi

brothersofthedominion:

Icarus dug his gloves into the cold stone ground. He pulled himself away from underneath the dueling couple. The mer jumped a little when the cat chucked a blade in his direction. Icarus got himself back on his feet, taking his attention to the giant globe, which was now under attack from his instructor.

“There!” Tolfdir shouted, only a few feet from the vivid sphere, electricity spewing from his palms. “Now attack it!”

The justiciar looked back at the blade before him. His lips stretched, “Thanks cat,” he uttered as his fist clenched a golden hilt tucked at the side of his belt.“but I ain’t gonna need that.” He gave a heavy swallow, taking a moment to study the draugr. It was only one, the two of them should be able to handle this if what Tolfdir suggested was true. Icarus lunged himself at the shambling corpse, ramming his dagger into the back of the draugrs knee. He tore through the dried up tendons as he ripped the dagger from the side. “Down you go you stinky bastard.” The mer sneered. He could not help but be somewhat proud of his handiwork there. He jumped back, yelping when the draugr, while crippled, violently whipped its head in his directions.

Gods those eyes gave him the creeps.

Whatever the whelp did, it drew the undead’s attention from him for just a moment, long enough to act on Tolfdir’s word and give his dagger a nice new resting place sheathed deep in the draugr’s chest. He dropped back only for a moment to avoid a wild slash in his direction, narrowly dodging the worst of the pair of ice shards cast at him immediately after. One gazed his cheek while the other went wide, crashing harmlessly on the wall far behind him. He sprang back at the draugr, slicing through it’s chest with his sword, then slamming an elbow in it’s jaw, breaking its neck and ow-right wrong arm…

J’hasi landed a bit heavily on the stone, his free hand grabbing his shoulder that was aggravated by the final blow, watching their opponent crash to the ground with a gurgling growl. He walked over to sheathe his sword into it’s chest one more time, leaving it there, just in case as the soulfire eyes sputtered out and died. He panted, swiping over his mouth with the back of his hand, flinching a little from his shoulder before turning to look at the other two, then at the barrier that dissipated, leaving the massive orb exposed.

“I’m not the only one seeing this, am I?” Tolfdir asked, voice awed. “Why, this is utterly unique!” The Khajiit looked at the elder, ears cocked under his hood.

“What is this thing?”

“I have no idea! This is amazing! Absolutely amazing! The Arch-Mage needs to be informed immediately. He needs to see this for himself!” Tolfdir looked back at the Khajiit.

“I don’t dare leave this unattended. Can you return to the College and inform Savos Aren of this discovery? Please, hurry.” J’hasi swallowed.

“Um…what should I tell him?” Tolfdir turned back to the orb, excitement and curiosity written all over his face.

“Let him know that we’ve unearthed something… Well, I’m not sure. Something unique, let’s say. It’s clearly magical in nature, but like nothing I’ve ever seen before. He should be most interested.” J’hasi gave a sideways glance to the Thalmor whelp lingering nearby.

“…will you be alright by yourself?”

“Oh, I think I’ll be fine. We seem to have eliminated the most pressing threat. It certainly seems that whoever placed this here intended for it to be well guarded. I wonder why…” The elder trailed off, seeming absorbed in the artifact.

Under Saarthal – Icarus/J’hasi

brothersofthedominion:

“Oh please,” Icarus scowled as he began to turn around . “I’m pretty sure you can get a decent view of this thing ov-” his blood froze as he saw the backside of the corpse, its head now turned where the blue glow in its eye sockets seared into his soul. The mer shrieked, tripping over a dusty jug. He scrambled to get back on his feet as the draugr swung its sword, grazing the terrified Altmer.

“Get–” The mer swallowed heavily to regain his composure, lifting his arms towards the Nordic corpse in preparations for a shock spell, “GET BACK YOU SHAMBLING BASTARD!!” Sparks blasted from the magelings hands, showering the Draugr in electricity. Icarus could only thank whichever magnificent bastard that created the amulet around his neck.

His relief was immediately retracted when the undead fiend stared him in the eyes, yanking the khajiits dagger from his shoulders, unscathed from the shower of sparks.

“GUYS. THIS AIN’T WORKING!” Icarus panicked, frantically casting a ward between him and the draugr.

The Altmer yelped as a single ice bolt from the animated carcass shattered his ward effortlessly, the golden color draining from his face.

The Khajiit hissed between his teeth when he got to his feet, heat soaking into his clothes and only marginally soothed by the jagged piece of ice, hearing Tolfdir overhead as he rushed to the stairs.

“Keep it busy! I’ll try to drain some of it’s power!” J’hasi saw the draugr lifting its sword for another blow, darting in front of the Thalmor whelp to block the strike with a crash of steel.

“If you don’t have a blade, move it!” he snapped, shoving the undead back, away from both the elder and the whelp. The stagger was brief, long enough for the Khajiit to recover from the hot tear of pain in his shoulder before it lunged again, sword whistling over his head when he ducked, then darted to the side. He had to keep it away from the other two who didn’t have a blade to dance with. Which, considering his shoulder, would mean blocking would have to be last resort. As it was his shoulder felt like it was on fire, with only a snowflake’s breath in the center. He could see his dagger in the undead’s hand and hissed a little.

“I do believe that’s mine!” J’hasi spat at the draugr, darting just past it, grasping it’s arm and twisting it behind its back. He sharply tugged his dagger from it’s bony grip before kicking off and landing behind it.

“Thaaank you!” He tossed one of his blades to the Altmer on the ground, the ancient steel clattering over the old worn stone before he flipped his grip on his dagger, darting in again, aiming a glancing blow against undead flesh that didn’t yield to magic nor blade, but at least kept the thing’s attention on him.

Under Saarthal – Icarus/J’hasi

brothersofthedominion:

Icarus grumbled in Altmeris as he yanked the last dart from his arse, half tempted to chuck it at the khajiit. Unfortunately, he couldn’t exactly afford to be suspended at this point. The teal beams of light stung his eyes when the doors opened. “Argh! what the hell–” The high elf squinted heavily. When his eyes finally adjusted, he could see what everyone went quiet for.
“Huh.” The mer rested his chin on his thumb, “Well I’ll be damned, this province actually does manage to cough up something interesting.” he murmured to himself as Tolfdir began to gawk at the massive…glowy ball thing.

“I never imagined we’d find something like this!” Tolfdir marveled, “Why was this buried so far within Saarthal?”

Ignoring his instructors fawning, Icarus presses his arm against his furry companion, pressing him away, “S’cuse me cat. Official Thalmor business.” While he was borderline used to the musty stench of death, it reared its ugly head as he made his way downstairs.

“Bloody hell,” the elf cringed as he spotted the source of the smell- well, two sources really. Placed on an what he would guess be an alter was a wrapped mummified body. Seated before it was a armored corpse. He had his suspicions, but this thing was probably like the rest of the mindless folk in this underground city. The elvish student approached the seated corpse, electricity sparking in one hand.

“I know you are there, you undead fiend.” Icarus scowled, “Rise and fight, and we’ll make this easier for the both of us.”

No response.

The mer cleared his throat, “I said you’re not fooling anyone. You dont want us here, and quite frankly I dont want to be down here either. Lets just get this over with and we’ll be out of here quicker.”

The body remained stationary. Icarus stretched his lips before waving his unoccupied hand over the corpses remnants of a face. He paused before flicking the carcass’ helm. “Anyone there?”

Still nothing.

The mer shrugged before bringing his attention back to the massive sphere. “Well now.” Icarus mused to himself, failing to notice the rising draugr behind him, “What in the eight do we have here…?”

He’d rolled his eyes when the Thalmor brat went to have a chat with a corpse, looking at the massive rotating orb in the rear half of the room, surrounded by swirls of blue light rippling around the dais it seemed to be housed in. The floor looked like it was made of a similar material, too. Strange markings covered the surface and…

…his fur was prickling…

J’hasi’s eyes caught the near-silent rise of the seated draugr once the whelp turned his back, his stomach clenching and the skin under his fur shooting cold in response.

He drew his dagger and threw it at his target, a flash of gold sinking into the back of the undead between its shoulderblade and spine. It coughed out a sharp growl and turned around, its intended blow for the unaware mer swishing just past his side.

“MOVE IT, WHELP!” The Khajiit barked, racing for the edge of the second floor, springing off to aim his blades right for that thing’s chest…

…only for the draugr to fire off a pair of icicles at him, one whizzing just past his face and the second sinking into his shoulder and knocking him back into a wall with a thump and a crash of ice overhead. J’hasi slid to the ground, pieces tinkling down around him as he hissed, grabbing the shard embedded in his shoulder.

It had been a while since he had last eaten, wandering in the wastes devoid of game as he was, so the scent of a potential corpse brought hope into the Khajiit’s heart, energy in his step, and drool into his mouth. When J’hasi finally tracked the scent down to a small cave, he found the expanse of grey flesh, the Dunmer obviously dead for only a short while. His eyes flicked up to the cave mouth, listening carefully for a few moments before he relaxed. He crouched down, tail flicking out to rest along the ground as he took the forearm in a firm grip to sniff along the skin.

No poison. It was safe to eat. But his growling stomach urged him to just eat it raw, not to waste time cooking it. He could feel the hot scraping claws of hunger within his belly and it would be quicker relieved the sooner he got something into it.

J’hasi bared his teeth before he sank his fangs down into the meat of the forearm, resistance of the skin holding until a small series of pops and the ivory daggers sank down deep. The Khajiit’s tail tapped on the ground, pulling bites off of the bone, licking his lips free of the cool, coagulated blood oozing out. He preferred it warmer, but he couldn’t be picky. Especially right now, when he had thinned out to the barest of bones with fur draped over, clinging to his ribs like damp clothing. Each bite put him closer to the point that he could make a fire and cook the rest. But not yet. He was too hungry right now.

His tongue rasped against the bone, scraping off the last bits of flesh from the thicker, meatier part of the forearm before he felt something brush against his scarf. J’hasi’s eyes opened, looking down to see it was just the mer’s hand, limp and dead, fingers caught in the folds with his jostling. He returned to licking at the bones before he heard a quiet exhale, and the flesh under his other hand…shifted.

The Khajiit’s eyes snapped up to see the Dunmer sit up and stare eyelessly at him, half of their face ripped off, breath coming out in a smoky, groaning huff. The exhale caused a light in the empty eye sockets to glow, like a puff of breath on an ember. The fingers that were brushing against his scarf fisted in the scarlet cloth, dragging him closer to the bared, broken teeth, a groaning death rattle coming out from the dead…not-dead…UNdead mer.

“Give…it…back…” the mer groaned, breath rattling on the way out as J’hasi was frozen in place, heart racing, terrified but incapable of moving, speaking, only staring in horror at the undead’s face. It lifted him up a little higher by his collar.

“Give…it…BACK!” it reiterated, more smoke, the coal-eyes burning brighter as the sickly smell of charred bone and hair filled his nose. The Khajiit whimpered, squeezing his eyes shut in fear before he let out a sharp gasp, clutching at his stomach. He cringed, then cried out, squirming and writhing at the pain inside of his stomach, pain that only grew worse as he felt something squirming, ALIVE, inside of him.

“Mine…” the undead growled airily, J’hasi starting to scream as maggots ate their way out of his stomach, gagging as they came up his throat, choking him and when he coughed, more fell into his lungs and resumed eating. They were eating his throat, his lungs, his insides, the inside of his mouth and his tongue, blood dripping from his teeth as he whimpered and coughed and gagged, tears pouring from his eyes before he couldn’t make any sound at all but pained gasps and torn cries, his vocal cords devoured by the plague of writhing, pulsating, off-white maggots.

He could see the bites of flesh he had eaten dribbling out of his opened stomach cavity, carried by the swarm to be placed and reattached onto the undead’s torn arm, reclaiming its stolen flesh from the bowels of his own. J’hasi let out a small, strangled, screeching cry before blood started dripping from his eyes, the maggots having burrowed into the deeper reaches of his skull and finding new flesh to feast upon. It was agony, and he wanted it to end, to stop feeling the little bastards crawling under his fur, eating him alive from the inside out, and there was nothing he could do but watch through a growing haze of blood as the undead smirked at his suffering.

“You taste good, meat.” it hissed quietly, then the lights in its skull flared, and it bared its teeth before it lunged at him too.

He bolted upright, screaming, clawing frantically at his skin, at his face, tangled up in his blankets before he darted for the nearby shore, diving into the frigid waters and struggling and squirming against the phantom sensations he could still feel outside of the nightmare. He shivered in the freezing water before he finally surfaced, coughing and gagging and shaking. Ghost nickered at him from the shore, seeming concerned before she delicately picked her way over to him and lowered her head to sniff at his mane.

J’hasi realized he was crying, hiccuping sobs breaking from his mouth before he grasped her mane, pulling himself up onto her back, clutching at her soft mane and coarse fur, feeling the warmth rather than the sickly, clammy, cold touch of that undead. Ghost quietly walked back over to the fire, the roiling in the Khajiit’s stomach reaching a peak before he heaved over her side, vomit splattering onto the ground. Ghost waited patiently before she moved on, bringing him to the fireside before slowly settling down onto the ground.

The Khajiit slid off of her back to lay along her side, caught between the pale mare and the fire, still shaking and occasionally freaking out at the tiniest disturbance of his fur, tearing at the spot until either skin or fur was torn, leaking blood. He shuddered, burrowing as close as he could to the enormous horse, burying his nose in her fur to only smell her calm, living, breathing scent of snow, leather, dirt, fur, and grass, all tinged with chill seawater. Ghost nickered quietly again, nosing at his jaw and blowing hot air into his ear.

J’hasi wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her as close as he could, trying to think of just her scent and warmth as the memory of the dream slowly started to fade in its intensity.

Guest name: J’hasi

Race: Khajiit

Gender: Agender

Date: I thought this meant ‘date’ as in what days they goin’ but I just realized it’s like a partner and oops I guess if someone wants their muse to go with J’hasi hmu

Outfit: He’s not going in his College robes, instead he’s going to be wearing some loose brown pants with a off-white undershirt. He’s got his leather boots and a beat-up leather jacket that’s clearly seen better days. Someone who’s familiar with Dunmeri styles of clothing would recognize it as Dunmeri handiwork. Also his red scarf. He never leaves home without that. Hands are likely bandaged from his frequent magicka accidents.

When you get this, please respond with five things that make you happy~! Then, send to the last ten people in your notifications anonymously. You never know who might benefit from spreading positivity~! 🌼

[I was born ready for this day:

rain
~~food~~ pizza I want now
stories (I love me some stories, esp with my or my friends’ ocs)
birds when they’re not 100% committed to running away from you so they just speedwalk really fast and try not to look too nervous
cats. cats are good

I have many more things but these are the ones that came to me first.]

arcuhnecrom:

Greetings, fellow TES role-players!

If you’ve become stuck in a rut with your muse lately, unsure of how to get them to interact with other muses, or if you’re simply bored and would like to devote your time and energy into a little project, well then, allow me to present: THE ELDER SCROLLS RP COMMUNITY AUTUMN HARVEST FESTIVAL!

What is it?

This community festival will be a one-week IC event that takes place between the 1st of Frostfall and the 7th of Frostfall! {October 1st through October 7th.} The event entails a large festival that all of the TES rp characters {both oc and canon alike} are welcome to attend! There will be food, dancing, games, contests, and other forms of entertainment all for the purposes of celebrating this year’s Autumn Harvest!

Do I have to participate?

Your muse is not obligated to attend this event, though they are highly encouraged to! There will be absolutely no discrimination on who is allowed to attend the festival! Whether your muse is good, evil, or somewhere in between, they are welcome!

How do I join?

If you decide that you would like to have your muse attend the festival, simply reblog this post. Then, at some point before the festival takes place, make a separate post with all of the details below filled out:

Guest name:

Race:

Gender:

Date: {Optional – if your muse so chooses, they can ask another muse to be their escort to the festival.}

Outfit: {Description or picture works.}

And please make sure that you tag all of your ongoing posts related to the festival with the appropriate tag: #tes autumn festival.

What sort of activities will be held at the festival?

There will be plenty of things to do at the event! At the moment, I am still coming up with ideas on what all will take place, but so far, I’ve come up with:

– a talent show

– a riddles game

– an art contest

– races {both on foot and on horseback}

– sparring

– an archery contest

If you would like to make a suggestion to add to this list, feel free to PM me!

——————————————————————————————–

As of now, this is the most I can concoct for this little project. Please, if you’re interested, reblog this promo {or reblog it simply to spread the word}, and I sincerely hope that I see your muse attending the festival!

4E 10, High Rock

A massive splash broke the relative quiet of the morning forest, startling a mass of birds that shot up into the canopy with alarmed cries. The source of said splash shot up out of the water, spitting out liquid before barking out in Jel.

“<Missed! Get it!>” A black Khajiit sprang from rock to rock, eyes on the massive fish that was going to be their next meal if he had anything to say about it. He could see the tear in the tailfin where Jeer’s spear had nicked it when it sprang out of the shallower waters, scooting upstream in an attempt to escape. J’hasi dove after the flash of scales, teeth sinking into the top of the tail, claws missing the first swipe, leaving him to get smacked right in the face with a panicking, indignant fish. The second swipe and claws held fast, the Khajiit surfacing quickly, trying to keep his mouth shut even as a mild panic fluttered in his chest at not being able to properly breathe for a few moments. Jeer caught up a few moments later, chest heaving.

“” J’hasi huffed with a mouthful of squirming fish, grabbing it more firmly with his hands before snapping its spine, holding it out for his friend to take.

“<Fen don’t miss next time.>” Jeer sighed, taking the fish by the gills, a slight smile on their face at the weight.

“<And here I thought you didn’t mind getting a little wet.>”

“” He shook his head, water sprinkling over the surface of the small river shallows before he got up, more water pouring from his sodden fur and clothes. Jeer made their way back to shore, grabbing their knife and setting to work gutting their catch, splitting it in half for the two of them to share, scale side down on the rock.

“<Come, while it’s fresh.>” J’hasi sighed, wringing out his mane before sloshing out of the water too, dropping to a crouch to pick up his half and sinking his teeth into the flesh, picking a bone out before chewing, setting to work to pick out the other bones from what he wasn’t currently chewing. Jeer bit into their half of the fish with a smirk.

“<Only hatchlings pick at their meals, Marsh.>”

“<I’m also fond of not choking.>” Jeer shrugged, continuing to eat, looking out over the river, the trees… They sighed.

“” J’hasi huffed.

“<Ff-this place isn’t nearly as dangerous as home, relax. Fhe worst is probably a bear.>”

“<What’s that?>”

“<Um…a big furry fing wiff-with teefth and claws and a nasty temper. Powerful, too.>”

“<…so like the thing you’re trying to cure yourself of.>”

“<…if you wanna put it fat way…>”

“<Can’t say I’m eager to meet such a thing. I don’t mind testing my craft, but I’d like to live long enough to improve upon it.>”

“<Fen practice your aim first.>” J’hasi took another bite of fish, a little more aggressively than needed when it jerked, as if the fish was trying to get revenge on him for catching it. Jeer finished their half, licking their teeth clean of flesh with a satisfied hum.

“<Wonder if the birds here are any good. You said we were going where there wasn’t much standing water, right?>”

“<Birds around here are too small. Not worth fhe effort.>”

“<Iunno, that one seems a decent size.>” J’hasi turned, freezing mid-chew when he saw a massive raven perched on a fallen log nearby, watching the two of them. The scent would’ve given it away if the size wasn’t unusual enough. Burning herbs, entrails…and too intelligent of a stare for just any normal bird. He stared back for a moment before dropping his fish to the rocks and darting after it. The raven startled and flared its wings before taking off into the forest. He could hear Jeer calling after him, but he was not going to let this bird go. He knew what it really was.

J’hasi was still a little tired from the fish escapade before, feeling that itch that was growing stronger night by night, one he tried to stave off by eating more raw meat than usual, one that he didn’t want to give into right now.

The itch that was the damn reason he was chasing this thrice-damned bird into the forest like a madman in the first place.

“<Marsh! Slow down!>” The enormous raven let out a caw as if agreeing, which set the Khajiit’s jaw on edge, baring his teeth before he dipped under another branch, then sprang off of a fallen trunk, fangs and claws bared. The bird fluttered in a panic, losing some speed, which cost it its slim lead. The moment the Khajiit caught it, it poofed into a cloud of acrid smoke that stung his nose and eyes, the two of them hitting the ground hard, tumbling to a halt. Jeer caught up a few moments later, finding the Khajiit panting, knifepoint at the hollow of a bewildered and out-of-breath Breton’s throat. The Breton panted out a laugh.

“You certainly caught me off-guard. So, is there something I can do for you? A spell? A love potion? A tonic to soothe that awful temper of yours?” J’hasi hissed.

“Cut the games. I know what you are.”

“Clearly, else you wouldn’t’ve been so determined to chase down a harmless bird.” Jeer made a confused noise behind him.

“<Uh…where’s the bird?>” J’hasi growled, ears flicking back.

“<Later, Jeer.>” The Breton smiled.

“I don’t suppose your large friend there could retrieve my cloak? It’s a bit nippy out here.”

“Don’t think so. You aren’t going anywhere.”

“<It’s naked.>”

“<Quiet.>” The Breton sighed.

“It’s hardly civilized to have a conversation like this. What if someone happened upon us? Knowing those living in the cities, they’d gossip about you two for years.”

“Don’t care. You have information I want, and you’re going to tell me if you want your throat to stay intact.” The man looked at him closely, then chuckled.

“My, my, you do have a problem.” J’hasi growled, only to yelp when the Breton moved quicker than he expected, grabbing his wrist and twisting it around behind his back, freeing himself in the process. The Breton then released him, dropping the dagger and brushing himself off, looking up at Jeer.

“Would you be so kind as to return my cloak to me? I daresay that having a conversation in the nude isn’t how I would spend a lovely morning like this.” Jeer stared back blankly.

“<Uh…what did they say?>” J’hasi rubbed his wrist, glaring at the witch.

“<Give me his cloak.>”

“”

“<Just give it.>” Jeer sighed, picking up the worn heavy fabric from where it was tangled on a branch.

“<Touchy, touchy. Are you going to tell me where the bird went?>”

“<Fhis is fhe bird, Jeer. Don’t let him have fhe cloak, it might be how he shapeshifts.>” The Breton frowned a little.

“If you’re concerned that somehow having the cloak means I’ll turn back into a bird and fly away, I assure you that I can do that well enough in just my skin. I just want my pipe is all. And some tea, if you’re willing to have some manners for five minutes.” J’hasi scowled as Jeer handed him the cloak, eyes locked on the Breton.

“You shift, I’ll do the same, and I won’t be so gentle catching you the second time around.” The Breton smiled.

“No need for that, I’m afraid. You’ve tuckered me out. I really should get out more.” J’hasi gave the cloak a small sniff, catching the scent of herbs and the like, but nothing like the cloud that had surrounded them after he caught the witch. He handed it over with a scowl, the Breton accepting it gratefully.

“Thank you. Now, have a seat. You’ve intrigued me, so I’ll be willing to talk for a little bit, provided you keep your teeth and claws to yourself.” J’hasi warily watched as the Breton sat down, wrapped up in his cloak before extracting a few pouches and a waterskin, patting around a moment before apparently finding the pocket that contained a long pipe. He tamped down some dried herbs into the bowl and lit it with a hiss of fire magic from his fingertips, waving it off once the insides were lit enough for a few puffs.

“Of course if you’re so adamant on standing, you can do that too. It’s terribly rude, I was hoping that someone like you would have some manners. Travelers from Black Marsh, I presume?” J’hasi’s ears flicked back.

“What makes you so sure?” The Breton smirked around his pipe, a curl of smoke escaping from between his teeth.

“Your large friend is dressed like someone from the inner marsh tribes, as is the dialect of Jel you’re both speaking comes from. I spent a fair amount of time in Black Marsh, sadly not long enough for my liking, but when you run across the wrong clan, sometimes a retreat is the smartest thing to do.” He beamed at Jeer.

“<Sit, enjoy yourself for a moment. No harm done, just a little misunderstanding is all.>” Jeer’s eyes widened at the Jel. Accented, but understandable. They sat down with a thump, tail curling around their legs.

“<So are you going to tell me what’s going on or do I have to keep sitting in the dark?>” The Breton smiled, pulling out a cup from his cloak, pouring in water from the skin, already piping hot to steep before offering it to Jeer.

“<My name is Grantham. I’m a witch of Glenmoril Wyrd, which is why your friend here took after me like a mad lupe.>” Grantham smiled, giving the Khajiit a knowing look.

“” J’hasi’s muzzle wrinkled a little before Jeer gave him a look, to which he dropped to sitting in the grass as well, fingers still curled around the handle of his dagger.

“<Could say fhat. Fhey said fhey cured me, but next mooncycle I shifted. Been looking for fhem ever since.>”

“<Names?>” J’hasi hissed a little.

“<Ettiene, Isobel, and Fallaise.>” Grantham hummed, nodding a little as he poured a cup for the Khajiit, setting it in front of him, then a cup for himself, corking his waterskin and placing it back into his cloak once more.

“<I’ve heard of them. New, relatively speaking. Imperials from Cyrodiil that learned the art. Wouldn’t trust them for an inch.>” J’hasi’s ears flicked back.

“” Grantham chuckled, smoke ghosting between his teeth before he removed his pipe, inhaling the fumes from his tea before drinking.

“<Yes, which is why you hunted me down like the wolf lurking just under your skin. Persistent. Focused. You wear it well. Better than most.>” J’hasi scowled.

“” The Breton smiled, replacing his pipe between his teeth.

“<Rejecting a blessing from Hircine himself is a bad move. But I understand not everyone sees it as such.>” The Khajiit’s ears flicked back.

“<It wouldn’t be the first time I rejected a Daedra’s ‘gift’.>”

“<Aren’t you a bold one.>” Grantham turned to Jeer-rah.

“<The tea is fine to pair with fish, my friend.>” Jeer frowned, glancing at J’hasi before stuffing the fish that the Khajiit had ditched earlier into their mouth.

“<I’m just following them. And listening.>” The Argonian picked up the tea and gave it a sniff, fans spreading before taking a sip, eyes closed. Grantham chuckled.

“<You’ll go far. It is a pleasure to meet you.>” He turned back to J’hasi.

“<If it’s a cure you want, you’ve caught the wrong bird. My specializations lie elsewhere. Hircine and I are not on speaking terms currently, and I haven’t been in contact with the rest of the coven in some time.>” J’hasi’s muzzle wrinkled, the Breton holding up a hand to stop him when his mouth opened.

“<However…I will make inquiries the next time I come in contact with them. Sniff me all you want, you’ll find that I rarely lie. Little point in it when you’re conversing with one who can smell deceit. Speaking of…>” He pulled a smaller pouch out of his cloak, sprinkling a few petals into the Khajiit’s tea before handing him the rest of the pouch.

“<Having a bit of that before bed will ease your temper. I’d suggest allowing your wolf some human flesh now and then. While most would be opposed to that sort of diet, I understand that some Saxhleel tribes practice cannibalism, so perhaps that isn’t outside of your comfort zone.>” J’hasi’s eyes narrowed.

“” Grantham smiled.

“<Learning to appease lycanthropes is part of the job. Many of Hircine’s faithful are blessed in a way as you are, and do not handle it well. A cure isn’t as widely distributed.>” The Breton smiled, taking another sip of his tea.

“<Feel free to seek out other witches if my answers do not please you. You’ll find that a great many are not as sociable as I. Especially after such rude treatment.>” Grantham took a deep pull of his pipe before looking at J’hasi more seriously.

“<Mind your temper. Even with the full moon approaching, not all witches are so accommodating.>” The Breton finished his tea with a sigh, a few more puffs on his pipe before the smoke abruptly ceased from the bowl, breathing the rest out in a curling stream from his mouth.

“<And now…I must take my leave. Enjoy the tea. I’m sure we’ll see each other again soon.>” Grantham pulled his cloak around himself, then a puff of smoke and he was an enormous raven once more, and now that he wasn’t flying away, the Khajiit noticed that his feathers were faintly patterned with the same markings as his tattoos. And then he flew away. Jeer smiled.

“<For a smoothskin that turns into a bird…I like them.>” A moment’s pause and the Argonian looked over to J’hasi’s tea.

“<Are you gonna drink that?>” J’hasi sighed, picking it up and smelling it, finding nothing that seemed to be poison, then took a sip.

…it was delicious.