[Skyrim: Morthal] Not The Mercy Expected ((Closed))

Kestrel shivered in the cold morning air. The thin prison clothing she was wearing little more than rags, and they did nothing to keep her warm. She barely heard the prayers being said for the condemned...for her...

She remembered the conversation she had with the prison guard while he was dragging Kestrel out of her cell.

"Where are you taking me?"

The large burly man didn't look at her. "T'the chappin block girly."

Kestrel's eyes widened. "But I was told that if I confessed I'd be granted mercy!"

"Aye. Th'mercy o'a quick death."

Someone was reading from a scroll. "For the crimes of robbery and murder, Kestrel of Rosewood, step forward. Do you plead for forgiveness?"

It took every ounce of effort she had to stop herself from crying. She squared her shoulders and faced her executioners. "I do, though I know it will not be granted by you or the people of Morthal."

With that, she stood before the chopping block. Her tied hands made it impossible to resist falling to her knees when someone pushed her. Closing her eyes, she rested her neck on the bloodstained stone.

But the winds of fate change direction easily, sometimes the higher powers' whims define one's life. Or simply lengthen it.

Hermaeus Mora wrote:Hermaeus Mora sees your life as worthy of many tales; and thus acceptable to spare.

And so it begins...

Eriikka had been called a lot of things in her short life. Erratic, reckless, impulsive, insane. She preferred the word spontaneous. Which was basically the same thing, it just sounded better. Even for a Nord the woman looked a bit... feral. One look at her wild hair, warpaint, weapons and armor and that was usually enough for most to give her a wide berth. She wandered through the small city of Morthal generally lazing about and getting strange looks. She could afford to be lazy today, she'd made a good haul in the last week. The bandit noted a large crowd gathering in the square... interesting. A traveling merchant? An execution? Maybe some Thalmor scum showing off Talos worshippers on their way back to wherever?

Eriikka's second guess was right. But she'd expected some scarred up bandit or maybe a rogue necromancer or something. Not this... kid. Eriikka looked on as the girl faced down her executioners calmly, brave even now... The woman bit her lower lip in thought, considering her chances. Could she pull it off? Maybe.

In the Morthal guardhouse, there was still one cell that was occupied. The occupant had watched the guards go about their business in silence for the past several hours. The dirty looks they had shot at him phased him not, but the knowledge of his failure stung him deeply. The contract had been completed, and the souls of a blacksmith who moved into the town recently and her family were now resting with Sithis. He was supposed to allow himself to be seen. He was supposed to help the Brotherhood by letting people know that no matter where they went, they could never escape the void.

And yet he was caught. He'd slipped up and now he was sitting in a jail cell, awaiting execution. The guards here think they will hand him over to the Dread Father he so eagerly serves. They had not searched him well enough. They didn't know that he had one last lockpick on his person.

With the guards so focused on the woman's execution, they had only left one watching over the jail. His patrol was known to the assassin. He would walk the length of the room in slow measured steps. Once he reached the end, he would walk back, then towards the door. During that period, he had enough time to pick the lock on the door. It wasn't the hardest one he had ever picked. The small city didn't seem to have much trouble when it came to the law, or maybe less trouble with the ones who broke it. They had no reason to reinforce it. Half a minute, and it was open for him. But he calmly, casually, stepped back and away from the door. He waited until the guard had walked back. The door opened, and he was on the guard. One hand under the jaw, the other at the back of the head. With a savage twist, he belonged to Sithis. The guard's sword was heavy, meant for combat, not stealth. He disregarded it, preferring his fruit knife, but took the keys that the guard had carried. He crept out of the jail, and saw two chests sitting by a table. There was a guard there as well. He snuck up behind him, and casually slit his throat with the knife. He grabbed the papers that sat in front of him, and for the briefest moments, he thought he heard something.

Hermaeus Mora wrote:The Void has already decided for this one.

He thought that it was nothing though. Nothing that hadn't already told him what he knew. So he merely went to the evidence chest and unlocked it. Once he looked inside, however he saw more things than he remembered having. The rest must belong to the woman who was in the cell beside his. No matter, judging by what the guards said, she would be executed. He quickly took his armour and weapons out and started to put them on.

He would need them for the guards who think they bested him. Maybe he would take the rest too.

The shadows around the bandit in the assassin changed. They looked the same, yet something about them seemed...different.

And then the whispers reached their ears. As if they were a sigh the wind itself. "Chance brought you here. Choice decides what happens next...what is yours?"

The bandit felt compelled to look at the girl on the chopping block. The assassin felt his gaze drawn to the items that weren't his, his memory to the sobs she couldn't quite stifle the night before.

"Her luck relies on you. Will it run out here?"

The executioner picked up his axe.

Eriikka frowned, she couldn't help but feel like she was being manipulated somehow, still... She tried only to go after those who deserved it, she really did... But she needed to eat. How much undeserved misery had she caused? Could she make up for it by saving this girl? Even if only a little?

She eyed the executioner, judging the distance carefully. She could feel a soft breeze blowing from the east. It would make her opening slightly more difficult. The bandit took a deep breath before softly praying to Talos for luck.

It's truly amazing how fast a person can move if they have the skill. A dagger flashed from the front ranks of the crowd burying itself in the throat of the foremost guard. Eriikka was already in motion, she leapt onto the platform and past the man gurgling and drowning in his own blood, a sword in each hand. The executioner had been preparing to decapitate a helpless prisoner not fight for his life. He never had a chance, particularly not against someone so averse to fighting fairly. The bandit darted forward, left sword feinting towards his face, right buried up to the hilt in the screaming man's gut as he instinctively moved to block the blow that would never land. Eriikka ripped her sword upwards as she yanked it out eviscerating the dying man and leaving him on the ground in a heap of his own entrails. She whipped round just in time to deflect an incoming halberd. Slashing towards the guard's face and tearing through his ear she shouted to the prisoner, "Get up!"

Another voice in his head. Maybe Sithis, maybe exhaustion...Maybe Sheogorath. One of his fellow assassins did say that he was often mad. He tried to ignore it. Chance didn't bring him here, he slipped up was all. The snowbank he tried to jump was just too slippery. That wasn't chance, right? And he had heard plenty of cries before, after all. He had caused most of them. So what if the woman died? He was perfectly comfortable with death.

And yet... He still studied the items. Most of it was just food. Only reason they'd be there is if they were stolen. The girl had to be desperate to just steal food. A frown formed on his face. By Sithis. He thought bitterly as he grabbed the items and quickly stuffed them in a bag, tying it to his belt with the rope he usually used to secure his hair. I really must be mad.

The dunmer stood up, and headed up the stairs, casually kicking the door open. Three guards were sitting around, off duty, chatting casually as they sat around playing a game of cards. They looked up at him, and there was a pleasant smile on his face as he casually withdrew his daggers. They quickly clambered out of their seats as he started to walk towards them.

Barely a minute later, the door to the guardhouse crashed open with a scream. A corpse hit the cold ground, eyes wide open. The assassin stepped out, twirling his twin daggers in his hands. He had to wonder for a moment whatever happened to stealth but as a patrolling guard saw him, he found that this method was quite enjoyable. Especially when he heard the sounds of conflict coming from somewhere else. Maybe he should fight his way over. With a happy smile, he charged at the guard, daggers raised.

A sudden surge of relief flooded Kestrel's chest. While the courts refused to show mercy, it appeared someone else did. That feeling was enough for her to ignore the fact that she was covered in the blood of the man that was supposed to kill her. "By the Nine and Talos, thank you!"

Between Kestrel's hands being tied and her shivering in the cold, it took more effort than expected for her to get to her feet. "Who are you?"

She was about to ask why the painted woman was helping her when she caught movement in the corner of her eye. One of the guards that was still standing took a swing at her. Reflex took over as she dodged the blade, but cold, hunger, and two weeks of not moving in a cell made her sluggish.

She couldn't hold back her cry of pain as the blade carved a large gash into her upper right arm. Loosing her balance, she started to fall again.

The bandit snarled in irritation just before the guard before her swung his sword (he'd abandoned the halberd as the Eriikka closed), she eschewed blocking his blade in favor of blocking his forearm. With his own momentum and weight the guard succeeded in shearing his own hand off above the wrist. He'd barely begun to scream when the painted warrior decapitated him sending his head, helmet and all, spinning into the milling screaming crowd.

Eriikka reversed her grip on her left hand sword stabbing down into the planks of the platform and through Kestrel's bonds. Normally the move might have had more finesse but normally Eriikka was not fending off three armed men simultaneously. The sword severed the ropes with ease but also nicked Kestrel's hand, not that her blood would be noticeable what with all the blood the blade had smeared on her. "Later! Less talking more killing!" Eriikka answers the prisoner. Holding her blades out so as not to impale herself the bandit dives to the floor and rolls expertly, coming up behind the guards she hamstrings one too slow in turning before plunging her sword through the back of his neck. As she dodges and blocks the attacks of the two survivors Eriikka chances a glance away, reinforcements had to be incoming. And not for her either.

A swing and a slice left the guard's jugular cut. Nightshade smiled to himself as he heard the telltale sounds of combat. Another patrolling guard had run his way, while another was heading to the other fight. Well, that won't do at all. He quickly sheathed one of his ebony daggers and withdrew the fruit knife he took off the first guard back down in the jail. It wasn't properly balanced or anything, difficult to actually kill with at this range.

But he wasn't after that yet. The blade soared through the air and its edge managed to catch the escaping guard's arm. The distraction turned her, and the assassin ran forward to meet the one after him. Two handed sword coming down at his head. His left hand still held a dagger, so he slashed at the thin edge where gauntlet met armor on the guard's left arm, sidestepping out of the way of the blade. A cry of pain filled his ear, and that was enough to spur the other guard into action. She withdrew a bow and arrow, but Nightshade brought his empty right hand up, flames appearing in his palm. With a flick of his wrist, a low level fireball hit her and he momentarily turned his attention back to the first guard. It was a good thing he did, because the heavy blade was being swung at his head. Quickly, he ducked down below under the blade and brought his dagger up savagely. It sunk into the guard's throat just as the second one fired an arrow at him. He quickly yanked the guard into the way of the arrow before pulling his dagger out and rushing at the woman. She died with a loud scream that was choked quiet.

Nightshade giggled and turned to see a platform, on which two people were fighting the guards. Or rather, one was, and the other had fallen. He tilted his head curiously at the sight, but he didn't linger long on it, for he noticed another guard (really, does a small little city like this need so many of them?) already on his way down to the execution platform. With a sigh that was laced with glee, the assassin rushed at him, both daggers raised now as he eagerly went to stab him in the back.

Kestrel winced as the strange woman gave her another wound on her hand. But she didn't have time to dwell on the pain. She grabbed a discarded sword and swung at one of the two guards.

It was clear that she was unfamiliar with the weapon, because she didn't even target a gap in his armor. The blade clanged uselessly off of the metal plating. It at least got his attention away from the woman.

He turned on his heels and arced his blade towards Kestrel's neck. "Die murderer!"

Kestrel managed to clumsily block the strike. "Not without a fight!"

Another clumsy swing, and by sheer luck, a large gash across the guard's neck. He fell, making a gurgling sound not unlike what a downed, but alive, deer made when she slit it's throat.

And now it was down to one. Easy. Eriikka leaned backwards slightly to avoid a swing of the last guard's blade, it swept through thin air with a hiss. The guard tried to recover his balance as he staggered from his overenthusiastic miss. The bandit didn't give him a chance, she kicked him in the chest sending him crashing to the ground flat on his back the wind knocked out of him. The last thing he saw was the tip of a blade descending towards his face.

Eriikka yanked her blade free in a small spray of blood and brain matter. "Let's get the hell out of here before their friends arrive. I can think of more interesting things to do than killing hapless guards all day."

The guard he was chasing heard his footsteps. Which really could be expected; he wasn't trying to be sneaky. The guard turned and let out a yelp of surprise. "What?" the assassin asked curiously, a smile on his face. "Were you expecting someone else?"

He turned on his heel and reached for his sword but by then Nightshade was already on him. His right hand had already shot out to try and slice at the guard's throat, but all he managed to do was knock his helmet. It certainly scared the guard enough, because the man quickly brought his sword out of his sheath. His hold on it was pretty weak from being spooked, so Nightshade promptly slashed at his sword arm, knocking the blade out of his loose hold. Then, he took a step forward and punched his dagger into the guard's armpit, the blade easily cutting through the thin armor there.

The guard let out a scream of pain, a sound that the assassin so loved. He rewarded him for that beautiful noise by cutting his throat with his other dagger. Casually, he pulled out both blades and let the dying man fall, crouching down to wipe his blades on the guard's armor before he sheathed them. A quick look around showed that there were no more guards coming...yet. He noticed the two on the platform were alright, and for a moment, he contemplated just leaving them be.

But that voice he heard earlier bothered him. He never heard voices. It wasn't like he was the Listener, after all, nor did he believe himself gifted by the Dread Father. If anything, he would be displeased with him. And even if he hypothetically did hear their voices, the parents of the brotherhood never showed mercy to anyone. No, the voices had to be something else...without hesitation, he started to make his way over to the platform, raising a friendly hand. "Hello there! Lovely day, isn't it?" He greeted with amusement. How else can you really talk to people who were murdering guards, especially when you were doing the same?

Kestrel was breathing heavily, shaking badly from more than just the cold. When the strange woman suggested they leave, she nodded in agreement. "Yeah, getting out of town seems like it would bee a good idea."

Her arm and hand were throbbing, but there was no time to focus on that now. She would try to treat them when she was positive that she had shaken all pursuers. That wouldn't be easy in her current condition, unless...damn it, she'd murdered two men, what was stealing a horse compared to that? "I don't think I can get far on foot, do you know if there are any horses nearby?"

And then the Dark Elf called out to them. Kestrel gave him a weary look. His amusement seemed out of place to the young woman. "I suppose that's a matter of opinion!" She called back, "Are you going to help us, or the guards?"

"Well, it would be rather silly of me to help the guards now. I mean, I just killed about nine of them." The Dunmer smiled as he turned to look around for more. Judging by the way his hands kept twitching in the direction of his daggers, it was almost like he was hoping for another group to stumble on them. "And besides, if I was going to kill you, don't you think I would've lobbed a fireball or something instead of draw attention to myself?" His red eyes settled back onto the woman, and there was a smirk on his face.

"We can sort out how much we'd like to kill each other later," Eriikka says to the two strangers, "For now we should get going. I've already made sure I can't show my face within ten leagues of this place for months." She regards the other two, "Same likely goes for at least you," she indicates Kestrel. "Eventually they're going to pull their heads from their asses and send someone competent, I'd rather not stick around that long."

Kestrel nodded. "Right. And we can travel that far faster if we have horses..."

Looking around, Kestrel grinned as she spotted roughly five horses standing tied near one of the buildings. Jumping off the platform, she ran towards them at full speed, picking the one that looked like it could run the longest at full speed. "Come on!"

Ignoring her bleeding arm and hand, she untied the horse and made sure the girth was tightened properly and the stirrups were the right length for her before she mounted it.

And then, surprisingly enough, she whistled. Low pitch, high pitch, a pitch in-between. And within seconds a falcon swooped down and landed on her waiting arm. Ignoring the pain the talons caused on her unprotected arm, Kestrel simply said, "Follow in flight," before the bird took to the sky once again.

The assassin raised an eyebrow at the woman's behaviour. Not the whole running for the horses thing, but the fact that she had a pet bird. Then again, they had a pet giant spider now...so maybe that was fine. Nightshade headed towards the building as well, smiling with relief when he saw that the horse that he had arrived on was still there. It was actually something he legitimately got, even though he could've easily stolen one. He quickly mounted the black horse, taking out one of his daggers to cut the ties. "Okay, Dwem, lets get the fuck out of this rotten town." He shifted his weight on the horse's back, but something felt off. He reached over to where he had tied the sack and pulled it off. "Oh yea. Hey, were either of you in the jail this time yesterday? If so, I got your stuff."

Eriikka eyed the falcon a little enviously. She had often seen those with money use them for hunting and she'd often wanted one, not that that had got her anywhere, stable girls don't get hunting falcons. Pushing aside her reminiscence the bandit considered the horses briefly before settling on a chestnut mare, it seemed the best of the group to her eye. She swung herself into the saddle adjusting her sheathed swords for a little extra comfort. Cutting her horse's tether with her dagger, she took hold of the reigns, "Not mine," She replied.

Kestrel took the sack. "It should be mine then. Thank you."

Tying the parcel onto one of her grey mare's saddlebag, Kestrel spurred her mount on. "Now let's get out of here! If either of you know of a good hiding place, feel free to lead the way!"

Thank the Nine, the horse she chose had an extremely smooth gate, and seemed to be well trained. She galloped along with minimal prompting. She was still bleeding from her arm, and her hand stung as she gripped the reins. 'Well, looks like today won't be my last after all...'

The assassin gently pulled on the reins of his horse to prompt the animal to face the dirt road. Once he did, Nightshade softly clicked his tongue twice. The horse took this as a sign to start running, then galloping, and though it was rather bumpy, Dwemer was quite fast (though not nearly as fast as the other black horse the assassin envied so much). Nightshade grabbed tightly onto the reins and leaned forward, further spurring his horse on. "If we keep a fast pace, we can make it out of this hold within a day; maybe even to Dawnstar by twilight." He shouted towards the two women as his black horse sped him through the streets of the small city.

Eriikka spurred her horse forwards, or at least as best she could without spurs. It was enough, the horse galloped after its two companions the streets of Morthal flashing by in a blur. "Out of this hold sounds good to me," she shouted back, "Dawnstar will do I suppose." The bandit was not altogether happy with this prospect. It was hard to practice her trade in the cities. She supposed she could be stealthy and such and do the breaking and entering thing. Time would tell.

Kestrel looked at the elf and nodded. "Hopefully the horses can run that long. Lead the way!"

Kestrel didn't show her own doubts of being able to ride that far. She was afraid the other two would leave her in the dust if she fell behind. The best she could do was try to keep up.

Nightshade spurred his horse to go even faster, knowing that once they reached Dawnstar, or even (hopefully) long before that, he had to lose the other two. The town far up north was often covered in blinding blizzards...perhaps he could abandon them at the Inn and then escape to the sanctuary. With that thought, a grim frown formed on his face.

He had to lose these two. He had to return to his Family, and to the Night Mother.

Eriikka dug her heels into her horse's sides. The Dunmer had the right idea, the sooner they left this hold behind the better. Pressing herself down against her steed's neck to streamline herself the bandit raced north with her two companions. To Dawnstar. And after that? What then? Talos only knew.