Hasir's eyes went wide as he considered the khajiit for a second,
"How do you know I, as you say, smell of the wolf?" He asked
The khajiit eyed him in shock that the Argonian could be so stupid,
"I know you ally yourself with the one called Hircine, he is the plague that must be wiped from the lands in order to appease Molag
Bal as his servant long ago married a filthy mutt." As he said this, he lunged at Hasir, attempting to rip him apart with his claws.
Hasir lent down and picked up the silver sword as he brought it to bear against the khajiit's claws. Hasir gripped the sword tightly;
ignoring the sharp pain that travelled up his arm. His brain screamed at him to use common sense, but he did not hear this. He was
too busy feeling red-hot anger at the khajiit.
Hasir grinned uneasily at the khajiit as he fought the pain,
"Yes that may be true, but this 'mutt' has teeth." He growled, lurching forward with the sword and embedding it deep in the
khajiit's stomach. To ensure a quick death, Hasir plunged the sword in deeper and twisted.
Shocked, the khajiit staggered back and fell into the target on a post that served as the dagger and sword training target, cracking it
in two. The Argonian crossed the room and, when he was sure the khajiit was dead, put a foot on the body and wrenched the blade
free. The momentum caused by removing the blade made him stumble backwards a few steps, almost hitting the wall next to the
door.
Hasir gasped as the khajiit stood up, laughed heartily, gave him one last loathing look and vanished in a plume of black smoke.
Ocheeva looked around and then asked Hasir where the mysterious black khajiit had gone.
Hasir looked at Ocheeva and shrugged,
"I have no idea where he went."" Hasir said as he glanced at Vicente out of the corner of his eye, "Before we find out though, we
need to find out about this tree in Skyrim and what it has to do with Molag Bal's plan to preserve the purity of vampires.
Ocheeva grinned and gestured toward the breton vampire,
"Do you want me to hold this one hostage?" She asked
Hasir considered this and shook his head making his hair flop about like a dead fish,
"No, better kill him and be done with it." As he said this, he circled the breton, who surprisingly did not show even a flicker of fear,
"Otherwise, if we let him live and capture him he'll escape and warn others, do you really want that?" He asked eyeing her
intensely
Ocheeva eyes looked downcast,
"No, I-" She started but bit her lip. Hasir jerked his head toward the vampire along with a claw running across his throat. Ocheeva
knew what this meant; he wanted her to do it. She forcibly shook her head, saying that she would be kicked out of the guild for
killing a dark brother and gestured for him to do it because it seemed he had more reason to do it then she did.
Hasir started to move toward the Breton vampire when the female Argonian asked him how he was to kill the vampire; to answer
her question, the Argonian grinned as a whip of living flame appeared in Hasir's closed fist. He looked at Ocheeva and laughed at
her worried look,
"You were saying?" He said, making sparks fly as the whip crack against the stone wall
Ocheeva looked at him and screamed; her hands over her mouth,
"By the gods, Hasir, Is that...Daedric magic? For the love of the divines put it out now!" She said, panicking.
Hasir chuckled at her as he aimed the whip at the table a few inches to his left leaving a long, thin burn mark snaking its way
through the wood. Soon, the fire spread and the table legs sagged under the weight of the orange field of flames, turning to ash
along with the rest of the table sending several goblets clattering to the floor.
Hasir smiled as he looked from the ashes to Ocheeva,
"There, is that enough evidence for you?" Ocheeva nodded, still wide eyed and a bit frightened. "There we go then, it's not daedric
magic, but instead a bit of Akaviri magic." He strode over to where she sat, turned to her and put an arm gently on the chair, "Have
you ever heard of a dragonknight?"
The female Argonian shook her head, thinking foolishly of gigantic draconic lizards somehow able to fight in thick plate armor.
Hasir saw her screwed up face and laughed, "No, dragonknights are not gigantic dragons in knight armor, think less large winged
reptiles and more... er, Akavirian warriors embued with the abilities of a dragon."
Ocheeva nodded, still confused,
"You learned this in Akavir?" She asked, looking at the sad pile of ash that was once a fully functioning table
Hasir nodded and, flame whip still in hand and moved toward to the vampire sitting in his chair, observing all that was going on. He
raised the flame whip high above his head, coiling and uncoiling like a great fiery serpent in the air and brought it forcibly down to
wrap around the breton's throat.
Ocheeva gasped as she saw the vampire quickly desintegrating due to the intense heat of the whip. Vicente's remain crumpled to the
floor. Hasir hissed appreciatively as his eyes flashed in Oceeva's direction. She could've sworn she saw something unnatural in the
Argonian's eyes, almost as if he was started down a path of self vengeance and was too far gone to turn back. The female Argonian
stared bug-eyed at the blackened corpse. She turned her head in disgust as the the body slowly crumpled to the floor.
The Argonian crossed the floor, tail dragging through the trail of blackened ashes that used to be Vicente's body, over to a bench
where Ocheeva sat eyeing him with white hot fury. Hasir shrugged this off as inconsequential as he sat down,
"Ocheeva, you shouldn't look at me like that I did you a favor." He said with false bravado
Ocheeva hissed angrily at her grandson, shoving him off the bench,
"You bastard, do you know what you've done?" Hasir shrugged and asked why she cared. Ocheeva was about to explain, but
a sound in the shadows caused both her and Hasir to turn around.
A hooded figure stepped out from the shadows aand removed its hood, "Ocheeva, nice to see you again. Hasir nice to see you as
well..." He stopped and surveyed the room; finally spotting bits of ashes blossom outwards from where, minutes before, Vicent
Valtieri sat.
Lucien Lachance drew himself up to his fullest height,
"Who did this? I demand answers!" Lucien screamed as he looked from Ocheeva to Hasir, "Hasir, Ocheeva? Who in Oblivion did this?
If no one answers, I will be forced to toss both of your asses out on the streets." They both just stood there; too stunned to speak.
Lucien took a few steps forward hoping to draw a confession out of either Argonian. Still, they did not crack.
Lucien walked over to the ashes strewn on the ground not far from the chair,
"Vicente was one of the finest assassins I have ever known, why did you two do this? were you jealous of Vicente?" He looked back
toward where they stood. Both Ocheeva and Hasir shook their heads, not taking their eyes off of his cold, merciless ones.
He strode up to Ocheeva and was about to expel her from the guild when Hasir sighed, "Don't punish her, It was my fault. I was
practicing my magic when Vicente accidentally got in the way and was burnt to ash." He lied.
Lucien looked at him with cold indifference, strode over to him and poked the Argonian in the chest with a pale, white finger,
"It was Ocheeva wasn't it? SHe killed Vicente, for what though? revenge? or was it more personal than that?"
Hasir shook his head and motioned for Lucien to calm down so he could explain,
"No, leave her out of this. She had no reason to do any of this." Hasir stood up and conjured a whip of pure fire from Oblivion itself
in his hand, closing his scaly fingers around it.
Lucien looked from Hasir to the whip and back again, "I-I don't understand." He stammered, "Did you kill Vicente with that whip?
Why?" He asked, his voice steadily growing to a shout. Hasir fixed his blue eyes on Lucien's black ones, "I killed Vicente because of a
plot involving Molag Bal and his wanting to keep the vampire bloodline pure and untainted."
That is what he wanted to say but he said it primarily in his mind; the words that he spoke instead were altogether different,
"I, er, killed him because, ermmm... oh yes, I remember, I killed him because he was looking at Ocheeva hungrily as if she was a
walking bag of blood waiting to be punctured."
Lucien eyed the grinning Argonian scathingly and pulled his fist back as if to punch him. Ocheeva saw this and stepped in front of
her grandson. Lucien advanced toward the female Argonian with a manic look in his eyes; angrily demanding that she get out of the
way, she stood steadfast in her defiance. The robed figure removed a dagger from the sheath on his hip and snarled at Ocheeva,
"Ocheeva, get out of the way! He killed Vicente, I will not let that stand! I need to put this rabid dog down before he kills again."
Lucien raised his dagger, ready to strike Ocheeva. She, however, was faster; she transformed, rose onto her hind legs and advanced
on Lucien, who scurried to the wall near one of the targets, falling over a chair in the process. Lucien begged for his life but Mai
showed no mercy, after an ear splitting howl which threatened to make the room crumble as if it was made of styrofoam instead of
stone. Mai snarled, lips pulling back to reveal a ton of sharpened fangs sharp as daggers and bit down on Lucien's neck.
