€ for a bad memory that still haunts them
J’hasi waited anxiously, swallowing when the scent of the Dunmer started making his mouth itch and drool. Her brow cocked, regarding him coolly.
“<…My lord Molag Bal may be able to cure you of your affliction, but I am not privy to my lord’s whims. Speak with the great Molag Bal yourself, blood fiend.>” The Khajiit grimaced, reminded again just how dry his throat felt, and the tempting smell of blood on his spearhead, similar to the scent coming off of the Dunmer who continued to give him a level stare. J’hasi frowned, looking up at the massive statue behind them, an almost-reptilian form with hands gesturing at the dim and warmth of the cavern it was housed in. His ears flicked back a little.
“<Um… How do I know if…? …do I just…?>” he looked at the Dunmer, gesturing vaguely to the carved rock. Their brows furrowed.
“<Speak. If he deems you worth his time, he will answer.>” The Khajiit nodded, swallowing again and grimacing at the dry pull in his throat.
“<Uh…Molag Bal?>” Only silence for a few moments, then…
“<Hello?>” His tail tip twitched, then suddenly the sensation of something slick coiled in his throat, his mouth, making him feel like he was choking. He coughed, then gagged, eyes wide with shock as he stepped back and fell down on a knee, clutching his throat. His eyes widened even more when he felt his mouth and lips move of their own accord, and an unearthly voice growled its way out of his throat.
“<So, you do not enjoy the blood hunger, little leech?>” The Khajiit only had time to suck in a short breath before he gagged again, a quiet whimper coming out of his throat as his ears flicked back, feeling like he was on the brink of suffocating. The sensation of an overbearing presence loomed over him, cowing him to the ground, very much afraid. The next words felt as if they were hissed into his ear.
“<Do you miss the warmth of the sun?>” J’hasi shivered, cringing at what felt like a hand grasping his shoulder, something that could’ve felt comforting in every situation other than this one. He whimpered again, squeezing his eyes shut as they started to tear up at more foreign and unwanted touches over his body.
“<I can obtain the cure for you…but you will help me first.>” J’hasi’s ears pricked a little, still trembling, still barely able to breathe through the mass in his mouth and throat.
“<You will find my daughter, Molag Grunda, in the dungeon Dubdilla below Mt. Assarnibibi. There she hides with her consort, the lowly atronach Nomeg Gwai. She believes hiding in a sorcerer’s cave will shield her from my eyes.>” A dark chuckle reverberated in his ear, his bones, the Khajiit shivering in response.
“<Foolish girl…>” The voice shifted in tone, but not for the better.
“<I ordered her not to associate with these animals. I told her what the penalty would be for her defiance! Yet she continues to defy me! Willful beast!>” The anger made J’hasi’s head hurt, whimpering again as he feared a blow from the Daedric Prince that held him captive, pinning him in place. The anger was still there, but calmed for the moment, dark satisfaction overshadowing it.
“<I cannot have this. Find her, mortal. Kill her and the atronach, so I may deal with them in the Outer Realms. When this is done, return to me, and I will rid you of your unlife. Take care, mortal, for she is powerful. She is still a daughter of Molag Bal.>”
Then, just like that, he was gone. J’hasi sucked in a deep breath, finally able to breathe, still feeling sick and shaky from what had just happened. An awful taste lingered in his mouth, and he felt like he was going to throw up. His hand pressed on the ground, looking up at the Dunmer watching him and the statue looming behind them.
“<You know what you must do. Now go.>” J’hasi shivered, nodding slowly, shakily getting up and grabbing his spear from the floor, uneasy on the thin strip of rock that lead up to the shrine. It was when he reached the stretch of floor at the bottom that he threw up, dropping to his knees and heaving onto the stone, thin acid and spit the only thing coming up from his empty stomach.
It was for a while longer the Khajiit lingered there, shivering and coughing and panting with eyes squeezed shut. When he finally gathered enough strength in his legs to stand, he swiped the back of his hand over his eyes and left, his breath hitching in a sob as he made his way down the fire and magma-lit hallway.
vvardenfellcat 