Chapter #1
Honesty is the Best Policy, but Insanity is the Best Defense
"Answer me elf! I asked for your name!" Silence. "Again, Blatta," the man sat back and watched as the large brute of an Imperial woman pulled back her fist and went forward with full force, straight to the jaw of the little Bosmer tied up before her with a loud crack.
"That the best you got, n'wah bitch?" the tree-sap girl looked up. She had blood dripping from her mouth and forehead, but her eyes sparkled with rebellion. Even when tied up and brutally beaten, Xyloraj was uniquely beautiful. Her midnight-black hair was disheveled and dirty, but still managed to shine against her golden-ivory skin. The black lines of the intricately twirled vines tattooed onto the right side of her face were turned red with blood, yet her black, empty eyes shone with light, like a starry sky. Constant beatings and days without upkeep had faded away the handprint usually painted in black across her mouth, cheeks and nose. She looked less than at her best, but still, she was somehow captivating. Unfortunately for her, her beauty had no effect on the Imperial dog that was interrogating her.
Amantius Verus was a typical legion asshole. He had clean, moderately good-looking features, but nothing special. And like all the Imperial guards, he seemed to think that he was the biggest, baddest, most-important guy around; although he was merely another middle-ranked soldier trying to get information out of a thief. Of course, he had company; didn't want to bloody his new uniform. The woman with him, Blatta Duronia, was a dim woman, but made up for in size what she lacked in intelligence.
"N'wah? Been spending some time in Morrowind, have we?" Amantius searched Xyloraj for a reaction.
"Maybe. Or maybe I just like the word. It's a cheap shot, and it's far from appropriate. Who doesn't like language as dirty as the mouth its coming out of?" Xyloraj almost giggled as she licked her lips.
"Listen up, elf. I know you have contacts in the Thieves Guild. You know the Gray Fox, don't you?"
"What makes you think that a little Bosmer, who has to steal cups to fence in order to make guild dues, would be even an acquaintance to the Gray Fox?"
"You know more than you're letting on, elf. I can see that. The real question isn't what you know, but rather, when you will break," Amantius smiled condescendingly.
"How about this: I'll break when the Empire is restored," sarcasm spilled from her mouth, "So never."
Amantius and Xyloraj stared at each other, just stared. For a moment Xyloraj thought…no, impossible…for just a second she thought she might've seen his eyes soften, just like…by the Eight, is that…?
"Wait a second," Amantius searched her face; he recognized her, "Do you know a Satiir by any chance?"
Xyloraj flinched ever so slightly, "No, never heard that name before."
He didn't seem to buy it but he moved on from the subject anyway. "Look elf, if you don't start talking I'll have no choice but to…"
"But to what? Have your little girlfriend keep bloodying my face. I don't care."
"If there is one thing I hate in all of Tamriel, by the Nine, it's criminal, elf, scum."
"If there is one thing I hate in all of Tamriel, by the Eight, it's Imperial Dogs who think they're better that everyone," Xyloraj glared.
"Again, Blatta," he leaned back and watched the beating again. Amantius was delighted to see Blatta's fist smash right into Xyloraj's nose, cracking as it came down. Blood instantly rushed down Xyloraj's face, and her eyes started to blacken. She started to cough, but managed to calm her lungs down long enough to look up into Amantius' eyes, smile, and spit a mixture of blood and saliva into his face. Amantius stood up surprisingly calm, wiped his face off with an old, worn rag and left. Blatta threw another punch and then followed him.
"We'll see you tomorrow, tree-sap girl," Blatta whispered as she left, trying to sound threatening.
Xyloraj yelled after her, "That a threat or a promise?!"
After the others had left, Xyloraj went into a fit of coughing. The girl was a mouthy one, and always managed to stay feisty when others were around. That didn't, however, change the fact that after nearly an hour of interrogation, Xyloraj was left chained to her cell with a freshly broken nose, fractured jaw, and several other injuries.
That was Amantius, I know it. Those eyes. Amantius used to look at Satiir with that same, stupid, pity, like she was a helpless animal. I can't believe he's with the legion. Finally gave into his father, I suppose. Damn, has he aged.
Xyloraj tried to keep herself awake, in hopes of preventing herself from choking on her blood, which was still steadily pouring from her face. The night ticked on and she started to fade out from blood loss. After just a little while, Xyloraj was out cold on the floor of her cell.