I have searched nearly every spec of filthy corner, back alley, and sewer for Speaks-Too-Soon. Where in Oblivion has she gotten off to?
I know there’s an outlaw’s refuge around here somewhere. I followed someone who looked promising as a less than upstanding citizen. Just as I was getting close to finding where they were going, however, who should I run into but the guardsman. The one from before.
I suspect from his expression and voice that he had been looking around for me. Luckily he was still on duty, so when he asked if I had time later to have a few pints, I could excuse myself easily. This one is far too emotional, perhaps I should have taken his life and done us all a favor. His high spirits are matched only by my desire for information on that Altmer’s whereabouts.
Once I managed to untangle myself from conversation with that desperate Nord, I had long since lost my lead. I then headed back to the companions so that I could keep out of sight of the guard for a while. Then in the evening I went back out to the spot I had last been following the suspicious woman and searched a long while for the entrance, to no avail.
The night was not entirely without benefits, however. I managed to run into Ra-Kathil. He was returning from dropping off some bow strings for the Thane’s fiddle. We went back to his workshop to share a glass of some drink he had brought back from his last journey. I also hoped to continue from where we had been interrupted previously.
I should have been suspicious of his actions, perhaps. An unknown drink from an unknown land could mean anything. I assumed, however, that with a larger commission at hand, that even were the drink laced with something unsavory, it would gain him less to rob or kill me now than to receive his full payment later. That said, I have no idea what I drank. It was stronger than a berserking Orsmer with a bounty to collect. It was like being in my youth and drinking fortified wine for the first time all over again. The rest of the night was rather a blur. I have not been this unaware of what has befallen me since my kidnapping months back; I really should make a point to find out if Zirik ever got what was coming to him. I know that we danced and sung for a long while. I also recall the start of a back massage.
After that, things get a bit less clear. I can tell you for sure that I woke up with the sorest throat I’ve ever had. It feels like I gargled nails. I have no idea what might have done that. Maybe something in the drink? Perhaps there is something I cannot recall that passed.
I also have this terrible pain at the back of my neck. It feels to be small indents judging by the touch. I will have to ask Ra-Kathil about it when I stop by later tonight.
I am back to the companions for now. I had the innkeeper boil up some willow bark for me and it has helped to ease the pain. I may even be able to sing a little. Though I wish not to exhaust my voice, should Ra-Kathil wish me to make use of it this evening. I will be sure not to partake of that drink again, I wish to know what happens. Where is the sport in taking a new lover if one forgets everything that has occurred? He is not unhandsome either. And should he be interested, he will be the first Khajiit I have had the pleasure of sharing myself with. It is all rather exciting, even if I had hoped another of his kind might be the first. Not that Qau-Dar seemed interest. Well, I don’t think he was interested.
Who could ever figure out what he wanted of me anyhow! Clearly he didn’t want enough to stay with me! Perhaps I should abandon this idea of seeking him out. What good is chasing after one who ran off in the first place? Unless he was spirited off against his will….
That Altmer was awfully shady. What if he had been working with that priestess all along? Neither of them seemed like any of the slavers I have ever met. But Altmer are hard to figure out. They are so busy talking down to everything non-Altmer that happens to pass their vision, how would one even know? I do not believe that one can judge all of a race, even by the majority of its people’s actions, but as a cultural standard, what a despicable group of people. My own kin look down on many of their equals, though luckily that is beginning to change, but I have never heard the type of racial superiority that Altmer decide to hoist upon the rest of Tamriel with such fervor. What danger could my poor Daelekil be in now? He is naive to much of the world he now lives in. May Azura and his own gods watch over him.
N’chow! I should just forget about him already! He has almost certainly done the same of me. Mayhaps I should have sold these earrings to that Bosmeri merchant. I am too fetching sentimental. Holding onto all the little trinkets that remind me of those I cared for. Mother’s amulet, Nabine’s affects, Qau-dar’s gifts. None of them likely care about me anymore, so why should I be the one left holding onto these fragments of a life that cannot be? Why I am still wearing this ridiculous plain golden band? The whole marriage was a sham to start and he had no intention of marrying me for anything but free room and food.
I must leave now. I need to distract myself with the deeds of foolish Nords and the taste of their meager alcohols. And later, with the company of one who at least has some need of me.