Slowly the world came into focus, awareness coming to her as waves upon a distant shore. It was as though her perception were pieces of a galley that had been broken on the rocks, slowly washing ashore with the tide. The pieces seemed unrelated, jumbled, one on top of the other as the waves pushed them further onto shore. The light was blinding and she squinted her eyes against the offending glare. Piecing her world together, she found pain. Her hand reached up to tenderly worry at the knot on her cheek. It came away dark red with dried blood. Slowly maneuvering into a sitting position, she found her ankles bound by chains. That is when it all came rushing back...
The young Nord woman ran through the back alleys of the Elven District as fast as she could. She had been out for her nightly walk as she always had for the nearly two years she had called the Elven District of Imperial City her home. She had moved from SkyRim as soon as she was able to wrest herself out from under her over-protective mother's wing. Her father had died in a skirmish with bandits years before and her mother had sought to keep her only daughter as close to her as possible. There was no chance of any young Nord man courting her since her mother would not allow her out of the house after the sun had set. Participating in the festivals was out of the question as well since most continued well into the night with much dancing and drinking until all were either passed out or had stumbled into what they thought was their house.
For her mother, bandits were just as likely to pop out of the storage cabinet as they were a darkened alley-way. Her proficiency with both sword and bow had not convinced her mother of her ability to survive. Deep down, she knew her mother was terrified for herself; that bandits would find them and do what they had done to countless women in the outskirts of the Imperial protected districts. The stories were everywhere about how bandits would take women both young and old and pass them around until the men were bored of them. Their bodies would be found several days later, having become a meal for a passing bear or wolf. The stories of what drunken Imperial soldiers had done were not as loudly retold in the Taverns, but they were just as widely known. She had learned from a very early age to never trust an Imperial.
And yet here she was, living amongst those she had hated as a child. She had grown to accept those that lived with her, even befriended a few. There were several, however whom she had come to loathe. One of them was a man named Octavian Occeto, an Imperial guard with an insatiable appetite for the local whores. Lately, though, he could be seen around the local Skooma dens spending his weeks pay on the little bottles of that vile substance. Most of the time, Skooma left its drinker in a stupor of euphoria, blissfully unaware of the damage the liquid was doing. Sometimes, however it led to a condition called the 'Dark Journey'. The worst in the addict was brought out as a fury unlike any mortal could muster over took them. Most that did not end up killing themselves wound up with an arrow sticking out of their chest or a sword in their belly.
It seemed like a horrible joke that Sanyue Ice-Bear had happened upon Octavian as he was embarking upon the Dark Journey. The guard, still fully clad in his armor downed the entire contents of the small bottle greedily in the shadow of a doorway. The Imperial guard shuddered as though a cold wind had blown in off of the glaciers of the northern mountains. Sanyue backed away as silently as she could, but one of the other side-effects of the Dark Journey was heightened senses. It was almost like they had been taken over by the Wolf spirit. The guard sniffed the air once, smelling the lavender still clinging to her finger-tips. Slowly, the armored guard turned to regard her with a hunger that sent an electric chill down her spine. She could not help it when her feet defied her orders and moved as fast as they were able to put as much distance between herself and the guard.
Sanyue took as many turns as she could, hoping to loose the crazed man in the maze of the gardens that gave this district its name. She trampled over flowers and jumped over startled vagrants, turning this way and that until she could no longer tell where she was. Her lungs burned and her heart threatened to beat itself out of her chest. Hoping to hide and catch her breath, Sanyue ducked into the shadow of a large bush near the rounded wall of one of the many secluded gardens. Many nights, this place would play host to passionate lovers, but tonight it was witness to a predator hunting his prey. The guard moved as though he could not tell which way he wanted to go. There were so many tantalizing smells for him to follow.
Watching the guard sniffing about spasmodically, Sanyue drew her blade out of its ankle sheath. She always kept the six inch blade on her at all times in case she had a need to defend herself. She just never thought she would have to do so against a guard. The moon chose that moment to betray her as its silvery-white light reflected off of the oiled blade. Sanyue stiffened as Octavian's eyes focused on the bush she was hiding behind. The guard seemed to get low to the ground like a cat about to pounce upon a hidden mouse. For a moment, predator and prey stared each other down, each sizing the other up. With an animalistic roar, Octavian launched himself at Sanyue.
The Nord rolled out from behind the bush as the guard slammed into it, flattening it to the ground. She knew that the commotion of him running through the alleys had likely roused the suspicion of the other guards. Hopefully they would follow the sounds of battle and save her from having to bury her blade into this man's belly. Sanyue tried dodging the guard, but agility was not among one of her abilities. Her fighting style was often described as a miller trying to crush a single oat with a boulder. Very useful against a group of bandits, but taxing when applied against a single assailant. She was trying desperately not to kill the man, but survival was beginning to win out against trying not to be implicated in the murder of an Imperial Guard.
Sanyue was already tired, and becoming more exhausted by the moment. Hope of being rescued by another guard was slipping way with each second. Octavian had already landed several blows to her body. His sword hanging, forgotten in its sheath, he opted for beating her with his gauntlet fists. Steel against flesh was hardly even odds, and she could already feel the bruises forming on her arms and gut. In her fatigue, she was just a hair too slow and caught Octavian's fist against her cheek. She could almost feel her teeth rattling in her skull as she fell, dazed to the ground. Octavian chose that moment to pounce on her, teeth gnashing in her face as she struggled to hold him away from her neck. His hands were squeezing her neck and arm hard enough to steal her breath and send numbing pain shooting down to her left hand. Her blade still lay in her left hand as he tried to use it to pull her toward his hungry mouth.
Darkness was closing in around her vision, her hands and feet growing cold as she struggled to get his hand from around her throat. Suddenly, he shifted, his hand coming from her arm to her neck to strangle the life from his prey. The moment the force against her arm was taken away, the knife plunged itself into a gap between plates in his armor. The blade passed just under the guard's arm and into his chest, piercing his heart. Octavian shuttered, his grip faltering on her throat. He slumped on top of her as Sanyue's eyes fluttered closed, darkness over taking them both.
"Oh," Sanyue sat up as the sound a of soft voice filtered into the cell she occupied. She squinted, making out a figure leaning against the bars of the cell across from her own. Slowly, she made her way to her feet, the pain in her face lessening somewhat as her mind cleared. "Aren't you a fair lass." The voice was coming from a man. A Dunmer, and from the looks of him, he was a regular in this place. His red eyes seemed somewhat crazed as he continued to chuckle at the state she was in. "Your skin is so pale, so pure," Sanyue decided that she hated this Dunmer already. "And our body is so - strong." Yes, Sanyue hated this Dunmer. "Let me guess; a Nord, right?" the malicious glare he was giving her was enough to make her blood boil. "I bet you think you're pretty tough, killing one of Hirodonious' favorites."
Sanyue wanted to scream that she had no choice. That the guard had been driven mad by the Skooma. But she knew that no one would believe her. Octavian was an Imperial Guard and Hirodonious' own nephew. There was no way he would believe a Nord. Never trust an Imperial. "Well, it doesn't matter. Not in here. It does no good to fight. But don't worry," Sanyue lifted her head, shivering at the mad grin on the Dunmer's face. "the guards always treat the pretty ones nice. Right till the end." Though her disgust turned to panic as she heard the door to the dungon opening. The laughter that had been quiet now exploded to full volume. "Hear that, pretty little Nord? The solders don't take kindly to one of their own being murdered. I heard them talking about how they were going to love watching you hang!" The foot steps were coming closer, the voices hushed as they drew near. "The guards are coming - for you!"