Book Series: Memoirs of a Hunter[Added]

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Memoirs of a Hunter
by Thalen Nerninia

I

My name is Thalen Nerninia. I have made my living over time as a hunter of slaves and the lesser species. I am putting quill to paper to share with you the chronicle of a hunt. I cannot recall the name of the beast in question; all I can recall of the beast itself was that it was Khajiit, and that it suffered from all of the flaws which afflict their race.

Telan Parsis was its owner, and though he did an excellent job of keeping the beast fed and in good health, it still attempted to escape. Perhaps the Khajiit's mind had been so twisted by the sugar that it no longer possessed even the meager reasoning of the lowly beast races. In any event, Telan Parsis hired me to track and retrieve the beast, though he was not particular on the number of pieces it was to be in upon its return.

I questioned the other slaves, however they were most unhelpful; I finally resorted to the use of my magics, but even this failed to turn up any helpful leads. I found it surprising that the beast had escaped without the knowledge of its peers; fortunately the slaves I questioned were able to work the next day, otherwise Telan would have been most displeased.

I soon came to realize that I would have to resort to older techniques and rely on my pack of finely trained Nix hounds to aid me in the tracking and capture of my quarry. I trained the Nix hounds, Selas and Nela, to track down Khajiit and Argonians from an early age. After much study of the Nix species, I found they relied almost solely upon their natural instinct in the hunting of prey. Thus, the secret of their training was to teach them that Argonians and Khajiit constitute the prey they would normally hunt; feeding them beast meat when they were young was just one of the many ways I found to implant this in their minds.

Khajiit, while certainly flawed in many ways, are truly blessed with speed. At the time we started the hunt, I estimated the beast to have gained a solid ten hour head start. Selas and Nela picked up the scent, and we moved quickly, though I knew that the Khajiit had few options for escape; certainly the beast would never escape Morrowind without aid.

We pursued it swiftly through the night and came across a place where the beast had obviously rested for several hours. By this time I estimate that the Khajiit had likely gone almost 16 hours without food and its energy would be waning. Clearly we were gaining on the creature, and using my powers I could sustain my own rapid pace for at least a week.

As sunset approached on the second day, we came across a less encouraging sign; it appeared the beast had killed and eaten a scrib. I guessed that the Khajiit's lead had been cut to at most three hours, but with food in its stomach it would surely be able to replenish its stamina and pick up the tempo. To compensate I quickened our pace in what turned out to be the final leg of the hunt.

At noon on the third day of the pursuit Selas and Nela suddenly bolted ahead, indicating that they had caught the beasts scent on the wind, rather then just picking it up from its trail. I raced after their harsh calls and soon came upon them beneath the boughs of a great tree. The Khajiit was near the top, and I could have easily shot it dead with my bow, but that would hardly have been sporting.

Now even a beast as dull as a Khajiit recognizes when the game is up and this one was no exception; recognizing defeat it surrendered without a fight. I bound its hands and we began the monotonous trek back to the Parsis plantation. The Khajiit was beaten and subdued, so I had to exert little effort in controlling it, other than pulling it off the ground when it struggled in crossing difficult terrain.

As is the custom I waited until sunrise before delivering the Khajiit to Telan. This way I could parade it before the other slaves, an example of the Dunmer's skill and efficiency at hunting down escapees. Telan met us at the gates of his manor; he walked forward,


II


I had always known Vardale Sladas was a fool. He had waited ten days before hiring me to hunt down his favorite Khajiit slave; a slave that he did unnatural things with, or so rumor had it. A ten day head start for the slave would mean that it had likely reached Old Ebonheart. There it was only a matter of time before the n’wah aided it in escaping back to the desert shacks the Khajiit call home.

I took up the hunt in Old Ebonheart after traveling by land from our ancestral home. Of course, compared to my beloved Tear, this city was but a stain on the map, and the incessant babbling of the lesser races in their uneducated and unrefined manners was maddening. Still the city was very large and full of foul Imperials that would aid the creature in hiding.

Fortunately, I was hunting a Khajiit slave, and Khajiit often seek solace in the narcotic moonsugar. Thus, I was provided an opportunity that I would not have enjoyed had I been hunting an Argonian. Even when they have not had the drug in many years, it has a powerful allure in their eyes, and the willpower of any Khajiit exposed to Moonsugar is inevitably drowned by an insatiable lust for it. Even more importantly, this Khajiit had been given the drug regularly by Vardale in exchange for its exceptional talents.

With this knowledge in mind, I began my hunt for the beast in the poorer parts of town, in places where it is easier to find such contraband. My first encounter was with a ruffian that smelled of liquor and excrement; he stumbled toward me and tried to reach out and touch me. I stepped back, aghast that such vermin would dare approach, much less attempt to touch me. The ruffian seemed to take this as an insult; he drew a small dagger and drunkenly thrust it in my direction. With the reflexes and training of a true Dres warrior, I stepped aside and with a single sharp blow to the back of his neck sent the fool crashing to the ground. Perhaps he was dead; I do not know.

What I desperately needed was to find a fool who could put me in contact with those who deal in moonsugar. Fortunately the ancestors smiled on me and I found a young, human harlot who was addicted to the narcotic. I had only to offer her a few coins and she was willing to acquaint me with her source of moonsugar. It was a free Khajiit pawnbroker, one of the foulest creatures known; she took me to meet the beast in its small unremarkable hovel, which I assume was so decorated due to the Khajiit’s familiarity with shacks.

The pawnbroker saw me step through the door and froze, for I was his greatest nightmare: a real, live Dres slave-hunter in his shop. I informed the cringing and pathetic beast that under the Law of the Armistice it was still slave and that I would be taking it back to the master it had left so long ago. The Khajiit groveled on the floor, explaining in broken common speech that it had never been a slave but that a slave could be found hiding in a crate down by the docks attempting to stow away to Elsweyr.

My ploy had seemed to work and the simple minded beast had betrayed its confidante. However, I thought perhaps it may have been lying, so I tied a rope around its leg and ordered it to show me where I might find this escaped slave. The pawnbroker led me to a small shack on the edge of town farthest from the docks. The entire time it groveled that I had to let it go when it had shown me to my quarry. With a single, swift kick the door gave way and I was inside. Laying face up covered in its own vomit was my prey. I grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and lifted it bodily out of the hut. The slave was dead. Perhaps in its zeal for moonsugar it had consumed itself, or maybe it had drained the contents of all three bottles of greef found in the shack; I suspect it may have been both of these reasons.

Payment for my services in this job depended upon returning the slave alive, meaning that usually in circumstances such as these I would have been out of luck. However, it would seem the ancestors smiled twice that day as I happened to have a perfectly healthy Khajiit I could take back to Vardale. Even more importantly, I was on the edge of Old Ebonheart and could slip away with my new slave unnoticed. The Khajiit tried only once to fight its fate and I was forced to singe its fur a bit to bring it back under control. With the beast in tow, I set out to return to Tear, the glorious sun rightfully setting on the freedom of another unworthy beast.