Risi and her husband were watching Hasir’s unconscious form. The only sign of life was the shallow breathing that emanated from
the serpent's lips. This action caused the Argonian's chest to rise and fall. The door opened as Tharsten and Brodron entered the
hut. Risi heard this and turned to face them, her eyes immediately fell on the black book that was tightly clasped to Brodron's chest.
The nords walked over and Brodron put the book on a table that sat beside the bed.
Engar went over to the book and examined it. He noticed the silver head with emerald eyes. He also noticed the title of the book
was also in silver lettering. The title read night of the wolf; He opened the book and saw, on the first page, a beast that stood
seven feet tall. He skimmed the pages, skipping the ones that Brodron told him about until he came to an extremely useful bit of
information. Werewolves are common on tamriel and the disease can be contracted by any race, even an argonian. However, due to
an argonian's natural disease resistance, it would be a 50/50 chance that they could get sanies lapinus. If you fail to cure the
condition within three days, it will be permanent. He shut the book and looked up at his wife. "Well, ai least we know what he will
turn into every night when eiither Massar or Secunda are full. Engar laughed, the two nords just stared at him Hardly believing
anyone could joke at a time like this. The change will take full effect in three days time if we do nothing". Throwing up his hands in
frustration, he swore. "Damn it to oblivion, how will we ever find a cure disease potion to cure that which is totally disease
esistant?"
Risi shuffled over to a bookshelf full of potions, she found one and strode back to her husband. She thrust it into his hands.
"What in oblivion is this? is this a potion from Blackmarsh?" He asked. Risi nodded saying it is called histsap. She explained that the
potion came from a race of sentient trees from which all Argonians are connected from birth. He unscrewed the rubber stopper and
poured the purple liquid down Hasir's throat. The nords waited patiently for signs of life in the argonian. Nothing happened. "I have
no idea how to cure him." Risi shouted in frustration, then she began to cry. Engar put his arm around her. "Well, we'll think of
something, my love, don't cry." After he said that, he produced a handkerchief from his fur coat and gave it to her. She accepted it
and wiped her eyes.
Risi checked Hasir's eyes to see if they were yellow. They were their usual light blue color. She then checked his teeth. Hasir's
teeth were a little pointy but not to the extent of a wolf’s. She breathed a sigh of relief as she confirmed he was unchanged.
Over the next two days, Risi would periodically check on Hasir's status. She checked his teeth and his eyes. Just like before, nothing
had changed. Tharsten and the nords were out back cutting wood for the hut's fireplace. Everyone was busy, even Hasir. He was
busy fighting the battle of the infection versus his body. They were currently at a stalemate. Each disease put stock in half of the
facilities. The vampires had the throat, legs and lungs under siege while the wolf cubs had the liver, hands, heart, brain and feet.
Hasir's body had the rest. It was an endless battle for complete control of the lizard's body.
Engvar came over to Risi and hugged her tightly fearing for Hasir's life, whom he did not yet know. Risi wished Hasir would wake up
and be okay, having expelled the sickness from his body. When she faced the bed, however, all she could see was a lifeless reptile
unconscious in the bed. The third day came and went with the same checkup of the patient and the same worrying if he would pull
through.
The next morning showed promise. Hasir was awake and even joined the nords at the table in the center of the hut for breakfast. a
plate of slaughterfish eggs, skeever meat with slaughterfish sauce and crab meat patties which were paired with a glass of water.
Hasir downed the glass of water in one gulp. He grabbed the pitcher of water from the center of the table and started chugging it
greedily.
The nords gave him a wierd look which he answered by saying that he was really thirsty and that being unconscious for a few days
really takes it toll. After he said that, they resumed eating their meals. Hasir pushed the eggs and crab meat aside and tore aa big
piece of rat meat off with his teeth. The nords looked at him like he had lost his mind; after all, they had prepared that meal for
him.
After he ate the meat and drank his water, he asked to be excused. His hosts let him go. He walked over by the bed, his eyes fell
upon a black book with a silver wolf head staring out at him with emerald eyes and a title above it saying 'The Night of the Wolf.' He
took it over to the far coner of the hut next to the stairs leading down to the basement and sat on a wooden chair.
Over the next few hours, Hasir read about the werewolf, first created by Hircine centuries ago. No one knows how the
wolflord did it, not even the followers of the wolflord.
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