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vanelopes_corner

New Member
“You’re more trouble than your worth.” The Riften guard spat as he pushed me into the cell making me stumble and fall onto the straw covered stone floor. With a huff he locked the iron gate behind me. He wore a purple colored set of scaled vest armor with a bronze chainmail shirt underneath with fur boots. He had a steel helmet that covered his whole face and he carried a round, lavender, wooden shield with a painted motif of two crossed swords. It was the typical attire for all the Riften Guards.

“We’ll see what the Jarl wants to do with you, don’t get too comfortable, Elf.” The word was like venom on his tongue. It had been many years since the war, and even though Skyrim was back under control of the Imperial Legion the people of Skyrim still couldn’t get over their hatred for Elves. He took my armor and weapons from me, after they stripped me down and dressed me in a roughspun tunic, and took them into another room upstairs.

It had taken three guards to take me down and haul me to the Riften Jail, and that was after I had knocked out two with my bow trying to get away. I refrained from killing them, knowing if I did get captured it would only raise my jail time. The jail itself was two stories, the basement where I was wasn't kept in the best conditions and the cells weren't separated by a stone wall like the upstairs area was.

I propped myself up with my back against the far wall of the cell and tended to my wounds. I was only bruised and scraped from being tackled and hit a few times but I would need my strength returned if I planned to escape. I laid a slender pale hand over my injuries and a yellow light engulfed it as I healed myself with my Magicka. It didn’t take long before I was healed and tried to plan my escape.

The guards were talking and laughing in the main room upstairs, they sounded half drunk, probably on all that Black-Briar Mead everyone enjoys in Riften. Filthy drunks. I thought in disgust. The Black-Briars pretty much owned Riften from before the war even started, and once the Imperials replaced the old Jarl with Maven, the matriarch of the family, it only got worse. Nothing goes on in Riften without the Black-Briars’ knowing. Then her murderous son Sibbi took the title after Maven died and he proceeded to rule Riften with an iron fist.

I heard the door of the jail suddenly burst open. The other guards grew silent for a moment.

“What’s this?” The first guard from before asked.

“Caught him trying to break into The Pawned Prawn, I think he may be drunk.” A female guard explained. “What do you want us to do with him?”

“Looking to do a bit of looting were we?” A gruff voice of another guard asked. “Put him in the cell next to the thief Elf, Cliaf went to talk with Jarl Sibbi to see what to do with her. You, go after him and ask about his man too.” The guard ordered. The door opened and closed again.

The two guards drug a unconscious brown haired Nord to the cell next to mine and dropped him onto the floor before locking the door behind him. The guard on the right took a bulky sack of items and took it back upstairs, from his tunic I assumed the stripped him of belongings as well. The other guard walked back upstairs and out of my sight once again. The laughing and clanking of glass bottles resumed.

The prisoner Nord sat motionless on the floor next to me, his Nord ancestry was prominent on his face. He had strong features, light skin and a straight nose, and his hair hung loosely to his shoulders. He had a few scars on his arms and face, it looked as if he had been fighting for a long time. He didn’t look injured though so I didn’t feel the need to heal him.

I felt around on the floor, looking for anything I could use to break out, praying to Stendarr, the Divine of mercy and riotousness, that there was a lock-pick hiding somewhere. There was nothing but an empty tankard and a wooden bowl to be found and I had almost given up hope of escaping.

I heard movement in the cell next to me and looked to see the Nord prisoner, now very conscious and sober, picking the lock to his cell door. I rushed up to the bars that were in-between our cells and pressed my face against it.

“Hey, let me use that.” I almost begged him. He turned his dark green eyes over to me and lowered his brow in annoyance.

“Hush, you're going to bring them in here.” He said in a deep voice. I pushed a strand of white hair behind my long ear in hesitation as he worked the lock.

The door to the jail opened again effectively silencing the other guards laughter.

“Hurry.” I hastened him.

“Hold your tongue.” He snapped back.

“Jarl Sibbi wants the two prisoners taken to the block in the morning.” A guard stated after I heard him take a long drink of mead.

“Eh, such a shame to waste such a lovely young Elf body.” The first guard slurred, getting a laugh from the others around him.

“She’s a little pale for my taste.” Another commented.

“High Elf bitch thinks she can get away with anything.” The first guard came stumbling down the stairs with a tankard in his hand. The prisoner next to me fell back down on the floor imitating unconsciousness with the lock-pick tucked away somewhere on him. “The Imperial Legion may have won the war but Skyrim will always belong to the Nords!” He shouted.

“One thing about Nords, there a bunch of milk drinkers.” Another guard shook his head with a slight smile.

“Oy! You bite your tongue before I cut,” He hiccuped “Before I cut it out your head!” The guard shouted.

“Let’s all go over to the Ragged Flagon, first round is on me.” The guard offered, all guards except the first left quickly, no doubt ready to get their free mead.

The guard sat down on a bench that was next to the wall and my cell. After taking off his helmet he took another long drink of the tankard and sneered at me.

“Such a shame, such a shame.” He repeated his comment from earlier. He got up again, leaving the tankard on the bench, and walked to my cell door. Retrieving the keys from his pocket he unlocked the door and walked in. I moved to the far side of the cell, trying to keep my distance from him, as he shut the door behind him.

“You’re going to die tomorrow anyway, Elf, might as well have some fun on your last night alive.”

“Go drown in Lake Honrich.” I said getting up off the ground readying myself for a fight. The prisoner Nord still lay on the floor.

The guard came towards me, I clenched my fists and when he came into swinging distance I threw the fist punch. He easily dogged it, grasped my wrist and threw me onto the floor on my stomach. His weight was overwhelming as he lay on top of me. I struggled and thrashed, using my body weight to try and throw him off.

“Such a pretty Elf.” He bent down to whisper in my ear.

I threw my head back, striking him in the nose with the back of my head. He yelped in pain grabbing his bloody nose and falling backwards to the bars in-between the two cells. I turned just in time to see the Nord prisoner wrap a strong arm around the guards neck from the other side. The guard struggled and thrashed but the Nord held on.

“Use your Magick.” The Nord said with a grunt.

“What?” I was confused.

“Your an Elf ain’t ya? Finnish him off with your Magick.”

“I can only use Magicka to heal.” I stammered. Yes I was an Elf, but I was raised my humans, and so I had no training in Magick. He sighed and the guard began to yell, trying to get someone from the outside to hear him. The Nord took his free arm and spun the guard’s head around, the guard’s neck made a loud crack and then he went limp.

“Get his keys before any more show up.” The Nord ordered standing up. I grabbed the keys from the guards pocket and opened my cell door, then walked over and unlocked the Nord’s cell door. He opened the door and walked around me. He walked down the corridor and went back up the stairs. The main room was now empty except for a few half drunk tankards and empty chairs, the Nord prisoner walked across the room and through a doorway that was straight ahead. It was a small room with a fireplace and a dining table in it. Turning left was a smaller room with a few cages and a dresser in it. In the corner was a chest.

“Come and get your stuff.” He went and threw open the lid.

“How did you know they were there?” I asked.

“It’s not the first time I've been here.” Was all he commented. He pulled out the sack that I seen the guard carrying and started retrieving his things from inside.

He started to put on his armor over the tunic he was wearing. It was defiantly some kind of Nordic armor. Steal and quicksilver mixed with layered plating on the chest with carved eagle heads on the shoulders under leather straps with ebony accents. His helmet was a steal carved bear’s head. I would be lying if I said he wasn't intimating. He took his sword out, it was made of ebony with the blade area having the thinnest amount, and the hilt with the thickest. The right side of the blade had complex designs of lines and swirls, the left side had similar designs, though to a lesser extent. The hilt had a large amount of ebony tied around it for a more secure grip. He put it in the sheathe that was tied to his waist. His shield was also ebony, the look of it was almost beetle like with three main parts and pincher-like designs on the front.

I searched the bottom of the chest for my armor and bow. My adoptive father was a blacksmith, and he taught me a few things before he got too old and my adoptive brother took over the forge. I forged my own glass armor. It was made from malachite and moonstone with accents of a light blue-green color from the glass. The breastplate was carved with feather-like patterns and the shoulder pads were triangular shape. The boots had knee pads with sharp points and fin designs on the sides which matches the design on the gauntlets. I never made a helmet for myself finding it hard to see trying to shoot my bow. My bow was also made of glass, it was curved and flowing with scales on the grip. My quiver matched the style of my bow with more of the glass mixed in and was filled with various types of arrows. I also retrieved my knapsack which had all my potions and ingredients in it.

“How do you plan on getting out of the city?” I asked the Nord.

“As quietly as possible. If we can make it to the water we should be able to sneak out.” I followed him into the main room and to the front door. There was a chair sitting outside the doorway, usually where a guard would be sitting but now was vacant like the rest of the jail. We went up the few stairs and out the front door to Riften.

The Nord snuck forward and peered around the corner of the stone wall of Mistveil Keep, where the Jarl lived, and checked to see where the guard was that usually made rounds keeping an eye on the grounds. He looked back and nodded at me to move ahead and I snuck around him and down the stairs of Mistveil Keep. When I looked back he had moved around to the other side of the building, looking around.

“What are you doing?” I whispered angrily and he just waved me on. I went around the corner and ran into another guard.

“Hey!” The guard yelled unsheathing his sword. I turned and ran back to where the Nord was standing by the front door to Mistveil Keep. The guard ran after us and we went around him and out into the city.

I was faster than the Nord and was outpacing him by several feet with the guard a couple yards behind him. In theory I only had to be faster than the Nord in order to escape but the guilt of abandoning the one who saved me from the guard would kill me so I slowed down to match the Nord’s pace. We took the straightest shot throughout the marketplace past the Scorched Hammer and out of the city though the dock gate. By this time there were several guards after us now, after seeing the initial chase. We made it to the end of the dock where we jumped into Lake Honrich.

The cold water was a welcome relief as it engulfed us. We swam under the water until we couldn’t stand it any longer and finally resurfaced between Riften and the small islands were the Black-Briar Manor was located. We looked back towards Riften and it didn’t look like we were being chased anymore.

“I think we lost them.” I said turning back to the Nord.

“Lets not stay to find out.” The Nord said as he started swimming towards the west side of the lake. Once we reached the shore we lay down on the warm grass to catch our breath.

“What’s your name Elf girl?” The Nord asked me.

“Ileana Agarwen.” I replied, he had saved my life, I thought I had owed him that much.

“What kind of Elf are you?” He asked. He was talking about my looks I assumed, had a similar structure of a High Elf but my skin and hair were both white and my eyes were a piercing blue color. “You don’t look like any High Elf I’ve ever seen.”

“Because I’m not.” I started. “I’m a Snow Elf.” I told him. He stared at me for a moment, confused before I could see the answer come to him with one raised eyebrow.

“Y-you’re a Falmer?” He asked backing away. Technically the Falmer were Snow Elves, but once the Nords started killing all the Falmer they retreated to the safety of the underground Dwemer society were they were enslaved and poisoned. The vast majority of Falmer now were blind demons that stalk the ruins of the now long disappeared Dwemer that would kill anything and anyone willing to go into their territory. We now call them “The Betrayed”. There were only a small handful of pure Snow Elves left. I was one of them.

“In some instances yes, but I’m not like the ones you have seen. I’m not a Falmer down in the Dwemer ruins, I am a Snow Elf.” I tried to correct him. Really it was his ancestors that were the reason for the extension of my people, but that was so long ago I didn’t hold it against him. Just like he obviously did hold it against me for the “Night of Tears” where my people went into his peoples town and mercilessly killed all of his people.

“I am Aventus Aretino."
 

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