Cub opened his eyes twice. The first he noticed the expanse of darkness he hovered in was just as dark as if he has still had them shut. Clenching his eyes tightly closed again then opening them more slowly allowed him to see a bit more of his surroundings...not that there was much to see as he floated helplessly in the void that currently engulfed him. In almost any direction Cub looked all he saw was an infinite blackness. Almost because just a few feet ahead of him was a familiar grimacing Orc. His arms and legs lashed to inky tendrils, Cub's doppelgänger eyed him viciously. His Orchish armour was stripped revealing the same draconic bite marks Cub carried over most of his own green skin with one minute difference between them; namely the crudely fashioned cloth bandage around his throat, still red from Cub's "fatal" blow the last time they fought. This was all a lot to take in for Cub who had, last he remembered, been playing whack-a-mole with a particularly bothersome Redguard. As if reading his mind, the Copy spoke; his voice no more than a hoarse whisper though if this was a side-effect of his wound or merely from disuse Cub couldn't tell. "You allowed yourself to be captured." The Copy made a show of spitting in disgust though he could only muster to force air through his chapped lips. "Willingly" The word was hurled as if it hurt its bearer to even utter it. "I had to," Cub protested, "they were going to kill Marasaa; I had to save her; Zhaveed and I have to save every-" Cub was cut short as the Copy lunged toward him in a rage, springing back against his bindings fruitlessly. "You save only yourself!" His words caught on the bloody lump in his throat as they charged forth, mingling coughing, choking and blind fury into his words. "That's why you wear that Crown! You left them to die!" As his lungs would leap from his body, a roaring fit of coughing churned a spray of blood and pus from his lips, mocking his previously failed attempts as chastising Cub with spittle. Cub turned on a dime, his meek protests turning to accusations of his own. "How do you know about my Crown? Hey! Hey, I'm talking to you!" Cub's probing went unanswered as the Copy moved to coughing to hacking and back again before finally choking out a phrase that made Cub's skin crawl. "I know everything." As Cub fell himself falling, the tendrils pulled their prey back into the darkness, his coughing stopping abruptly as Cub plummeted, his vision darkening as he fell. With a start, Cub awoke in a musty cellar. The hatch above had been left open letting in streams of light and the sounds of battle. Looking around he saw not only was Marassa missing, but so was his hammer. More importantly though, so was the Dagger. Without a thought to Hravlar still in the makeshift cell with him, Cub limped forth in to the light of day, his javelin wound still tender though healed, presumably by the Argonian. He would find Shavie and the Dagger, get his hammer back and meet up with Marassa. His Copy knew something Cub didn't and he intended to find out what. It was just a matter of how many would be foolish enough to stand in his way.