The moment the door crept open, a blue blur flashed into the newly darkened room with a sense of urgency.
"Cooped up in sssssome cage with a bunch of rubesssss!" hissed Kerotan, who was obviously not in the mood to express gratefulness for being freed. Being captured in the first place was humiliating enough, and having to rely on someone else to bail him out was just the icing on the cake. With an insect-like series of furious chirps, Kerotan overturned a nearby table, sending an assortment of papers, glasses and silverware to the ground in a shower of loud noises and broken cookware. Needless to say, he was not happy.
He breathed a sigh of relief, checking the folds of his cloak for his journal just to make sure it was still there. Everything on his belt seemed to be intact as well. Finally he turned to see the Khajiit eating casually next to the murdered body of their captor.
"You murdered the poor man? I wouldn't exsssssspect an uncultured furbag to operate with any ssssemblanssssee of ssssubtlety," chided his Argonian voice, with an added hiss. Insectoid form or not, some prejudices never disappeared.
"Leave thissss plasssse, houssssecat. I don't want to embarrasssssss you anymore than isssss nessssesssssssary," ordered Kerotan, pulling a firebomb vial from his belt. "You musssst work for the Brotherhood. Uncultured cutpursssessss and murderersssssss, they are. Any Khajiit would fit in jusssssst fine," he spat, hoping to intimidate their attacker into leaving. These Brotherhood types were usually only out for their contracts, meaning they tended to scamper off if things got too hairy and they already accomplished their task.