It had been a long trip from Whiterun to Dawnstar, Columba was tired, cold, a bit irritable, and a bit on edge...
She really didn't need the ridicule of these pompous, ignorant Stormcloaks at the moment...
Thanks to the light of a torch in the distance, Columba could see a group of three stormcloak soldiers coming down the road through the falling snow. They were headed in the opposite direction of her and her Imperial companion. No doubt the soldiers would cause trouble just like all the others... After all, an Imperial and a Wood Elf traveling together? Let alone with the earlier dressed as a jester? Columba may have been asking for it given the circumstances, but if Nords weren't so ignorant than the problem wouldn't exist at all now would it?
Columba, in response to seeing the incoming soldiers, pulled her cowl up and lowered her head. Hoping perhaps they would not notice she was an elf and continue on.
She had no such luck it seemed.
"Oh would you look at this," The group stopped on her left, Columba continued to walk, wanting to ignore them and just get back home. She grabbed Cicero's hand, whom was walking on her right, as she went by to be sure he wouldn't stop. He had expressed his... distaste for these soldiers many, many times. She did not want to take a chance.
However, one of the two men reached out and grabbed Columba just before she was out of reach by the back of her cowl and yanked her backwards. Nearly pulling her off balance. "it's the little brown elf and her pet Imperial!" He jeered.
Columba groaned silently to herself. These were soldiers that knew who they were...Great.
In an act of irritation, she turned about quickly swatting the mans arm away and looking up at him hatefully. That was another thing Columba hated about them, full grown Nords were taller than a young Wood Elf...
"Oh look who grew a bit of a backbone." The only woman in the group took a step forwards and sneered at the young elf. Columba recoiled a bit, nose scrunched up, when the woman got in her face, the smell of alcohol was thick on her breath and with Columba's heightened sense of smell it was nearly enough to knock her out.
She backed away and rubbed her nose on the back of her hand in an irritated fashion. She looked back up at the woman as she began to laugh at her. Calling her a 'milkdrinker' for being so sensitive to the smell of a 'little' mead.
After giving the woman another look Columba couldn't help but smile, this one was the woman who had nearly been gutted by Cicero for shoving her to the ground once. Of course the only reason she was still alive was because Columba had bayed Cicero not to kill her.
"I'm not in the mood..." Columba replaced her cowl over her head with a slightly snooty huff and continued to walk. Much to her surprise they didn't make another grab for her. However, they did yell some rather... vulgar comments to their backs. Most of which were directed towards her...
Unfortunately for them, the last shred of her restraint was ripped away thanks to a fist sized rock that was hurled straight at the back of her head...
Columba loudly yelped out in pain and stumbled forwards as it made contact. She clutched the back of her head in pain and began to whimper slightly, eyes watering, when she felt warm fluid seep from the spot of impact. She was bleeding, and her head was pounding. Rage filled her like flames on oil, but the throbbing in her head made it hard for her to feel motivated to take any action. She was already tired before, and now she had a migraine to boot...
"Go back where you came from!" Was the last thing Columba heard before they continued on their way.
Columba looked over to Cicero who was sending a glare strong enough to kill at their retreating forms. She might have been scared for her own life had she not been ensured that the jester would not lay a finger on her, for she could feel the bloodlust and hate radiating off of him. Columba then grinned (however painfully) with a grim realization and grabbed the jesters arm, pulling him to her.
"If you can ensure no witnesses," She whispered, leaning in just a bit closer. "then have at it..."
Cicero grinned giddily at her and soon began to laugh maniacally. He stared for a moment at the backs of the soldiers and then charged down the road strat after them; Ebony Dagger drawn. Columba smiled somewhat smugly to herself, feeling satisfied, and continued on her way to the sanctuary. As she went she listened to sweet sounds of screams, two blades clashing, and breaking bones amidst the howling of the wind.
And the mad jester's laughs of course, but that always made her smile.
"Columba" means Dove in Latin.