[B]A long overdue collab with Drippah and myself[/B]

[I]The Previous Night...[/I]

"Ah hell..." Zainat muttered as he climbed down the side of the building he had been hiding on the top of for the past several hours. "Much easier climbing up...." He glanced down at the mostly empy street, and exhaled softly. Thirty feet, he supposed. "Not too further." He sighed, and continued to climb down. After a moment, however, he shrugged, and Decided to take a shortcut. "Not too far. I had to fall farther for my coming of age..." He inhaled sharply, and then vaulted off the wall, a wild, loud warcry on his lips as he fell.

Stepping out of the incense-filled confines of the brothel, Zaveed stretched in a quite exaggerated manner, groaning as his back and shoulders cracked in relief. His thumbs slid into the long belt tied about his waist, and he offered a grin and a wink at a man who was standing outside, coin in hand, looking as if he needed the last bought of courage to walk through the door. Perhaps man was a generous term; the boy looked like he was barely old enough to shave, and was at the awkward stage between being a teen and an adult, by human standards. In that regard, khajiit had it much easier. Zaveed as a three-year-old was as able and lucid as a seven-year-old human. 
"Take the one with the firey hair. She's rather... limber." he advised the youth, strolling past with a song on his lips. He didn't need to turn around to know the sound of the door opening and closing in a hurry was his new friend. 

It was funny, in a way; only a few years ago, when a dragon had decided to attack his old crew's ship off the coast near Eastmarch, sinking it and claiming the lives of most of the crew, Zaveed was a decidedly different man. Had that man been in the brothel, he likely would have claimed the company of two or more girls, depending on how much coin would grant him, and take the one who he fancied the most. There was a lot to women past their looks, after all, even if they are paid to make you think they like you. Now, with significantly less coin in his purse, it was his mind that was satisfied more than his pride. At least he didn't have to scrounge together enough money for a cure disease potion, which not coincidentally were always more expensive the closer to brothels you went. 

[I]Perhaps I should have taken up alchemy when I had the chance, but damned if I can tell one ingredient apart from another, which one would give me the shits, and forget actually having to taste s-[/I]

The khajiit yelped in surprise as something decidedly man-sized fell from the roof, collapsing into a heap on the ground. He had lept back to avoid being struck by the corpse being tossed from a window, perhaps someone who had not paid his debts? It served as a reminder to pay attention to his surroundings; assassins tended to not be so conspicuous or forgiving. He gaze looked down at the still figure to determine the exact cause of death.

No, nevermind. The body was moving.

And he recognized it. 

"The last we met, you were somewhat more graceful." Zaveed said, crouching before the prone dark elf with a grin. "Levitation spell failed you, I presume?"

"Azura...save..me" Zainat groaned as he lay in a heap on the ground on the ground. His eyes darted open once he heard the voice of Zaveed. "...Of course you would find me." He muttered. He struggled to his feet, and shook his long hair from his face - The impact knockking his hair out of his usual topknot. "I'm plenty graceful!" The Dark Elf said indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't like, nor do I use magic." He said, glancing up from where he had jumped. "I misjuged the distance from there to here." He said as he pointed up at one of the nearby buildings. The spot he pointed at was a good fifty feet in the air, much farther than he had guessed. 
"I ended up... Blowing my cover, and had to make a run for it.." He said, rubbing the back of his neck, obviously embaressed. "Bastard nord pulled a sword on me that was about... A cubit and a half long." Unknown to him, the right arm on his redguard outfit had slowly changed colours, from a dusty white to a deep, bloody red, ever since the impact, when he had landed on his shortsword. 

"Enjoying the women of this city, are you?" He asked with a grin, having visited Helgathe in the past. He had spent more than a few hours in the establishment they were standing infront of, spending quite a bit of Septims on a dunmer woman with white hair. [I] And if I recall... She could do things with her tongue...[/I] He shook his head and chuckle softly, remembering her fondly. "Was there this Dunmer woman with white hair, a small scar upon her left cheek?" He asked, grinning widely at the khajiit.
Zaveed tilted his head with a smirk. "You can use whatever term you wish to describe your circumstance, but I've seen skooma addicts who are better put together than you are now." he looked at the elf's hair. "And what do you use with your locks? You seem to be more vain about what's atop your head than most women I know." he listened as Zainat explained how exactly he ended up falling from a roof into the shambling litch that stood before him. A pool of crimson leaked through the light fabric of Zainat's clothing. Zaveed pointed it out. 

"You seem to have opened your arm." he said pointedly. "Let's get you off the street and find a healer. You've already put on quite the show, let's not attract more attention from your blood loss, shall we?" he said, leading the dunmer down the finely constructed streets, trying to recall where he had seen a church, mosque, or house of healing. Even a potion shop would do. 

He looked over at Zainat as he brought up his visit to the brothel. The khajiit raised an eye ridge at the elf's line of questioning. "Saw that, did you? And I enjoyed their company, although not for obvious reasons. What is the expression, work before pleasure? I haven't laid with a woman I bought in some time." he said with a dismissive hand wave. "That's a game for a younger, foolish khajiit with no small amount of ruthlessness and the inability to see a tomorrow past what today and yesterday looked like. And I wouldn't know; the woman I consorted with had spent time with gentlemen such as them." he said as a pair of dwemer guards walked down the street in the opposite direction. "Turns out they suffer from the same weaknesses as any other men, much to my delight."

Zainat smiled softly at Zaveed's mocking of his hair, and he shook his head slightly, amused. "I use some Breton solution made from leaves of Willow, treacle water, and honey, boiled in oil collected from a Lizard's skin. I was told how to make it by a Breton." He said without a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Obviously you've never met an Ashlander woman, if you think this is ornate... Nor have you glanced at Qara'Sion." He said, grinning, before he paused a moment, a look of confusion flashing arcoss his face. "Opened my arm..?" He said, before glancing down at his bloody appendage. "Oh. That isn't too bad. I've had worse" He muttered, but nodded at Zaveed. "A good idea I suppose... Get it bound and cleaned" 

When the dwemer had passed them, he spat on the ground, glaring at the dwemer's backs. "You taint yourself by laying with a woman who spends time with the Dwemer." The dunmer sighed softly, and continued to follow the Khajiit, his thoughts turning to the city.

Zaveed chuckled. "My friend, if you think that the only reason a man would have to consort with whores is to satisfy certain base urges, you must be rather inexperienced." he grinned. "Let's just say you can learn a fair deal about a man by visiting those who are paid to pretend to be interested in the words they speak." 

He gave the dunmer a sideways glance. "You may wish to hide your contempt a bit better. There's no telling whom may be interested in ratting out a possible insurgent, and a foreigner to boot. I've seen dwemer kill for less. Come on, let's wet our tongues on the local fare and see about having you stop bleeding all over the place. It's putting a damper in my appetite." 

"Inexperienced? Me? Let me tell you, Zaveed, when I was doing some work guarding a trading caravan a few years back, this merchant named Argath, had these twin daughters... Britte and Greyf were their names. I think." He rubbed his chin, and then nodded slightly. "Yes, Britte and Greyf. Britte had red hair, Greyf had blonde..." He paused a moment, and shook his head. "But I understand. But you..." He gestured at Zaveed, trying to describe the Khajiit. "You look like a man who spends much time with whores and harlots. Not that that is bad, mind you." He grinned, and opened his mouth to continue, before he nodded grimly.

"They didn't see me, but I see your point. The Dwemer are not known for their forgiveing nature." At the mention of food, Zainat's eyes lit up, and he nodded happily. "I came to Hegathe before, a few years back. If it is still open, I am pretty sure we can get something good from there... And I might know a place we can get some bottled magics for my arm."

"Once upon a time, I was just the sort of man you figure me for." Zaveed admitted, no shame in his voice. "I've lain with about as many women as men I've killed, who can keep track? When you live most of your life on a ship, the brief time you spend on land you partake in what indulgences you can afford to take. Or not, as was often the case. You become rather swift when you willingly choose not to pay a whore and try to sneak out on her." He chuckled. "And it's less the dwemer you should concern yourself with as those sympathetic to their cause. They can be any person who walks these streets, so be mindful of your tongue and actions. Us, being minorities as it were, aren't exactly loved. Selling us for a handful of coins wouldn't cost many a night's sleep, I imagine." He raised an eye ridge at the dunmer. "You've been here before, have you? Most of my time was in the East, this is all new to me. So, I will follow your lead and try to not look too much like a tourist."

"I'm sure you killed quite a few women as well." Zainat said sofly, patting the Khajiit on the shoulder gently. "I don't like ships or horses, so I wouldn't know about taking indulgences once you arive on the land." He chuckled, and eyed the Khajiit's body. "Ah, that explains your swiftness. I assumed it was because you are a Ohmes-raht." Zainat paused, and stopped walking for a moment. "You think that the Dwemer would have the common citizens they butchered work for them?" He asked, obviously havng trouble understanding the concept of a quisling. 

"I was." Zainat said in respone to Zaveed's question, a small grin forming on his face. "See that building right there?" He asked, discretely pointing at a run down old building down the street to them. "Skooma Den, incase you or Qara'Sion get a craving for the Sugar. I had to drag my friend, Swims-in-Cold-Water out of there after he got a little too friendly with his Skooma Pipe." He chuckled softly.

"More than a few." Zaveed admitted, flash of his axes and spray of blood flooding his mind. "And I am Cathay, Ohmes-raht look more like men, if men had fur and tails." he stopped his strides when Zainat did, he turned to face the dunmer. "Of course. Fear and coin can purchase a peculiar brand of loyalty, and you assume people's loyalties start and end at their race. I'm living proof that that is rather... incorrect. Besides, many people haven't suffered from the dwemer. What we saw in Cyrodiil does not appear to have been the case here. Either they decided to handle Hammerfell with kinder gloves, or the ones ordering armies in various regions aren't of the same mind." he shrugged. "Either it has helped us, or it has not. It makes little difference to me. My objective remains the same." his gaze did not follow the dunmer's finger. Zaveed gave him a long look. "I'm going to assume you are trying to be a gracious host or a poorly timed gesture instead of assuming all khajiit are skooma addicts. If you wish to press the point, we will go there, I will buy the entirety of their wares, and force you to consume it all."

Zainat blinked at him, and returned the look, before a sly grin grew over his face. "I like you more and more with each passing second." He chuckled softly, and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry I did not get your people right. It should be easier for me, as a Dunmer, to know the diffrence between certian groups. Houses and tribes, you know. I did not intend to offend." He laughed again, and continued smiling at Zaveed. "Not skooma addicts, but I know that the Khajiit often use Moon Sugar for religious reasons, and thought you might like some for prayer." He bowed his head slightly, and then sighed. "I tried smoking skooma once. I woke up two weeks later, half naked in The Chill -Thats the Prision in Winterhold, mind you, in the arms of a very large, very strong, and -VERY- hairy Nord woman named Cob. I'll never touch the stuff again." He shuddered in revulsion, as if the very mention of Cob would summon her there. After a moment, however, his eyes sparkled lightly, and a mischievous grin spread across his face, one that made him look strangely sinister. "I have an idea to use that skooma den for our advantage, though... I'll tell you over dinner." 

"A few streets down, there is a tavern that sells the regional food around here... You might like it. I know I will." He laughed, and slapped Zaveed on the back, before wincing as his injured arm throbbed painfully. "By Azura, that hurts." He muttered, doing his best to look as if it didn't hurt badly. "We should find a seller of Bottled Magics, and buy one... Although, if they have any Corkbulb Root, Marshmerrow, Wickwheat and Saltrice, I could make one myself."

"I would not concern myself overly much. It took me years to get the 17 breeds right." Zaveed replied, smiling. "Besides, I could not begin to tell you the different houses and tribes of Morrowind. Perhaps it makes me a bad person, although I am for decidedly other reasons. As for my faith, I acknowledge the Divines, but I would not say I'm particularly religious. I did not grow alongside my culture, so Moon Sugar never played a role in my life. I was too busy to stay alive than to worry about such trivialities. It's hard to justify narcottics when getting fed depends on how well you perform. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that that [I]wasn't[/I] normal within the past few years." he glanced at Zainat with a sly grin when he mentioned the bear-like Nord woman. "Cob, hm? Perhaps I will search her out when this is done and inform her that you miss her companionship and mourn for your time apart."

The sudden exclamation about having an idea for the Skooma den surprised and gave the khajiit no small amount of apprehension. He didn't like to be anywhere near the shit. "Please don't tell me it's a plan that's about as well-thoughtout and executed as your adventure on the rooftops." he said, prodding the dunmer in the wounded arm. "And let's just find a potion shop. It's much simpler than juggling the rigors of alchemy when I am sauntering around on an empty stomach." 

"Go ahead and look for her. She's probobly still in The Chill, so why don't you try mugging someone in Winterhold, eh?" He grunted, and then grinned at Zaveed's comment about the rooftop adventure comment. "No. For use in the erm..." He leaned in, and wispered into the cat's ear. "We'll use it for killing the Captian of the Guard. I sneak into the Captian's quarters by the Window, and force enough Skooma down his throat that he dies from it, and plant the suggar and Skooma around his room." He nodded slightly, and smiled at Zaveed, clapping him on the back. 

"I can name all four of the Ashlander tribes, but only one of the Great Houses." He admitted, before pulling Zaveed into a small alleyway that a small potion stall he used to frequent was located in. "The woman who runs this stall... I have not seen her for three years, but she always gave me lower prices in exchange for... Services... In the bedroom... And how can you worship The Divines? What do they do? Azura, Boethia, and Mephala... They do much." He smiled softly again, and then stopped infront of a stall that was stacked with potions, ran by a red haired, voluptuous Dunmer woman, her hair hair done in a style women decended from House Telvanni tended to favor, a Bobcut. A small female child sat by her feet, playing with a toy animal carved from wood. She blinked at him when she saw him, looking shocked. "Zainat?" She asked, before her face took a harder edge to it. "Have not seen you in a long time... What do you want?" 

"You can keep Winterhold all to yourself. Too damn cold for my tastes." Zaveed snorted, involuntarily shuddering when thinking of the snow and ice and gusting winds that felt like daggers. Hammerfell was much, much more agreeable. He listened to Zainat's plan. "We aren't trying to make it look like the man had an addiction problem, we're trying to [I]kill[/I] him. It's to send a message, not cover our tracks. Do you not think it would not look suspicious if the man with no history of drug abuse suddenly overdoses the same night a lot of political prisoners are released back into the streets and a riot is orchestrated to draw off his personal guard?" Zaveed asked incredulously. 

The khajiit had to bark out a laugh. "You, my friend, are full of shit. No shopkeeper in her right mind would take some begger off the street and fuck him in exchange for a discount. Trust me, I've tried. More than once." he said as they approached the stall. He spared the woman a lingering glance before looking at the child, an oddity in a place that was soon to see much bloodshed. Innocence weighed against the guilt of an entire city, it was interesting to behold. 

When she spoke Zainat's name, Zaveed had to blink. He looked at his companion with apprehension. "I wasn't aware this was a social visit. Allow me to take my leave, then. It is clear I am intruding on a... intimate moment." he said, preparing to step back and disappear into the streets. 

"I wanted to see you." He said, before moving towards the woman, obviously intent on embracing her ... Before she struck him across the face, fuming angrily. "A full year!" She screeched at him in Dunmeris, her eyes filled with anger. "A year with no word, and you just show up randomly!?" She struck him agian, and the child began to cry, obviously upset by the yelling. The woman bent down and picked up the child, hushing her, glaring at Zainat the entire time.

"I'm... sorry, Mehra. I was working, and..." Zainat said softly, looking at the child for a long moment, and then back at Mehra. "I... That child is mine, isn't it." She nodded slightly at him, and Zainat glanced at Zaveed, almost silently begging him not to leave. "What is her name?" He asked softly. 

"Tashpi Ashurnasaddas." The woman said, and Zainat looked rather surprised to hear the obviously ashlander name... As well as his own last name. He glanced at his feet again, and then looked at the baby. "She's beautiful." He said, obviously unable to think of what to say.

Zaveed stepped close to Zainat, grabbing his arm and leaning in close, head turned away from Mehra. "While I can appreciate this moment, you need to be very careful. If people recognize you, she's in danger. After tonight, there may not be time to relax. Live in the moment; you may not have another for some time." he patted the dunmer on the shoulder before smiling warmly at Mehra. "I must apologize for his absence, he's been an associate of mine for quite some time. I promised him good coin for good work, and he wished to provide for you when he came back. You know how the whims of men can be, good in intentions, poor in actions." He shot Zainat a curious glance. "Although, he failed to mention that he had a rather lovely woman waiting for him back in Hammerfell. Had I known, I would not have taken him all the way to Cyrodiil and Elsweyr." He smiled apologetically. "Please, accept my apology for keeping your beloved from you for so long. I for one know the pain of seperation." 

The image of Semedar's face flashed through Zaveed's mind, and the warmth of Reigenleif against him under the base of the palm tree, drink in hand. A sudden surge of longing filled him rather unexpectantly. He looked between the two dunmer, and he glanced at the child. "Seeing as he's done dragging me through the city in search of you, I suppose it's only proper I take my leave and let you two spend the time you deserve together." he fished through his pouches, finding what was left of the coin purse he was provided a few hours ago, before placing it on the stall. "It's about 20 Septims, I hope that should cover any losses for closing early." he said, stepping back. He looked at Zainat one last time. "I won't wait up, just make sure you're back by morning. You still have work to do."

'Thank you, Based Daedra.' He prayed silently as Zaveed stepped in to save him, and he continued to offer thanks to any Daedra that were listening as Mehra's face slowly softened, her smile slowly replacing the scowl upon her face. She blushed softly at Zaveed's complement, and then gasped as she saw the wound on Zainat's arm. 
"Thank you for bringing him to me, although I would have prefered that he wasn't injured..." She said, pushing a potion of healing into Zainat's hand, and then begining to close the stall, obviously interested in catching up with Zainat. As the potion of Healing slowly closed Zainat's wound, he glanced at Zaveed, and nodded slightly. "I'll be there. Everyone has a job to do, after all." Then he began to help Mehra pack away her potions, a small grin upon his face.

The khajiit gave Zainat a parting glance before mingling with the crowd on his way back to the safehouse. "Yes, we do." he said quietly to himself before he was lost to sight, leaving the two dunmer lovers back to their affairs. It would prove to be the last quiet night any of them enjoyed in some time.