In the early hours of the morning Qa’Skil was laid sprawled across the bed he had purchased for the night, he shifted around every few minutes and occasionally gave off a growl or mumbled comment as if speaking with some invisible presence. Sleep had thus far evaded him and his heart had been racing the entire time as he rolled back and forth again and again. Eventually his eyelid began to feel heavy and he drifted into a light uneasy sleep which soon filled his mind with unpleasant images and thoughts. 

Qa’Skil was wandering through the Tenmar forest, he was young and healthy again, his coat shimmering and golden and both eyes gazed around as he walked between the sugarcane groves dressed in his finery. Suddenly he came across another Khajiit who was hidden amongst the groves, the feline emerging from a thick patch suddenly before standing and blocking his path with a glass dagger clutched in his hand. 

Qa’Skil recognised himself, mangy and one-eyed with the all too familiar look of desperation plastered over his face as he brandished the blade forwards and demanded his coin-purse. Young Qa’skil barred his fangs and took a step backwards as he placed a hand protectively over his money before he shouted “It’s me you fool! You can’t seriously be robbing yourself can you?” 

Even his voice was strong and firm compared to the quiet and sinister voice that responded, the older Qa’Skil spitting on the ground before he hissed “S'rendarr has cursed this one” and he began to lunge forwards aggressively stabbing and slashing with the glass dagger. 

Qa’Skil quickly reached for his own glass dagger, but it was missing from its place in his waist and he could do little but fall backwards under the onslaught as he tried to block the blade with his hands and arms. The blade cut deep into his hands as he grabbed at it, his crimson life-force spilling freely as he began to grapple with the dream version of himself. Managing to grab the blade and hold it for a moment as they both wrestled to the floor the dream Qa’Skil fought viciously and frantically, kicking, elbowing and gouging at him as the blade was knocked free and clattered to the ground beside where they grappled. Now fighting with little more than tooth and claw the dream Qa’Skil managed to gain the upper hand for a moment before he lashed out and raked his claws down his face causing unfathomable pain to shoot through his face as Qa’Skil clutched at his now profusely bleeding eye, realising that he had just blinded himself. 

The dream Qa’Skil managed to scramble over to the knife before he twisted and leapt back upon his wounded victim. Struggling desperately to stop him Qa’Skil could do little more than scream and beg for him to stop as the dream Qa’Skil tried to plunge the blade into him once more, barley missing as they once more frantically began to struggle, hands locked as the blade hovered just above Qa’Skil’s chest before slowly beginning to inch its way forwards. 

After what felt like an eternity the tip of the blade found its target, sinking into his flesh as a sickening and horrifying feeling gripped at him, pain blossoming throughout his body as his strength faded and the dream Qa’Skil grinned fiendishly as he pushed the dagger in deeper and deeper until it was buried to the hilt. Feeling weaker than a kitten Qa’Skil gazed into his own savage eye as the dream Qa’Skil watched the life drain away from his face. 

As his vision faded in the dream Qa’Skil awoke in reality, his heart still pounding and covered in sweat. He was very unsettled and felt at his chest where the dagger had been only moments ago, the feelings had been so real and so unnerving that he couldn’t help but check. Satisfied that it had only been a dream and nothing more he swung his legs over and sat on the edge of the bed before he grabbed the almost empty bottle of wine from his nightstand and drained the remaining liquid with a few rapid gulps. 

“Sheggorath’s tits that was unpleasant…” he mumbled to himself as he rubbed his left eye. He also took a moment to feel around the scars of his right eye, his fingers running over the lines that marred his face before he suddenly stood before stalking across the room to where his bag was sat. Grabbing the tatty satchel he moved back towards the bed before he unclasped it and turned it upside down, spilling the contents onto his bed. “Let there be something…” he begged, hoping desperately that there would be some vial he had overlooked or at the very least a flask of some strong liquor that would knock him out for the remainder of the night. The amount of junk he had collected was quite impressive, however he was not in the mood to sift through it at the moment and began to quickly search through the items for what he was looking for. 

Qa’Skil froze as he picked up the package of Moon-sugar, simply gazing in disbelief as he held it in his hand. A moment later his face erupted into a huge grin and he began to laugh to himself, still not believing he had forgotten about the substance for so long. Tearing open a small corner of the package he quickly poured a small amount directly into his mouth before he leaded backwards and chewed at it, savouring both the sweet taste and the feeling of relief that began to flood his body. It wasn’t skooma, but it would definitely do for now. After a few minutes he sat forwards again before deciding that it was time for him once more to try his hand at refining the substance himself, and so began to think about what he would need to scavenge together and where he would do it. .After a short amount of time his grin spread even wider as he realised he knew just the place. Carefully sealing the package once more he placed it into his bag before he dumped the rest of his possessions back as well, he then began to quickly dress himself in his overcoat and pull his shoes back on as he scrambled around the room to prepare. 

Peering through his doorway into the inn’s main room to ensure it was deserted before he moved out, his footsteps falling silently as he easily glided across the wooden floor without making a noise Qa’Skil paused only once behind the bar to grab yet another bottle of the alto wine, moving the bottle behind it forwards so it’s absence would not be detected before he snuck out into the cold crisp air of the very early morning – intent on turning Roggi’s basement into a make-shift skooma den for the day.