Gilraen woke up, still disorientated from her slumber. She couldn't really see anything but blurs and double images. She took a few seconds of her time to try to put these images together and recollect why she was even here in the first place. This room had nothing fancy about it; in fact it was much less than fancy: no light, except that of a candle. There was also a table where she was sat. The room itself was just a four-cornered box; from what she could make out it was just brickwork and flickering shadows. Before Gilraen continued her analysis of the room, she noticed two people staring at her vacantly, she stared back, confused about her surroundings and the two men sitting in front of her. One of them seemed impatient. He rocked on his chair to and fro through impatience; he then leaned on the table, resting his chin on his arms, glaring.
The man to the right seemed to be the authoritative figure. He was an Imperial, probably in his forties, but the candlelight shining on his face revealed aging wrinkles. Straight-lined shadows on the Imperial's face were the only noticeable features he had, the indentations of shadows were almost hypnotic. Another thing that was clearly visible, his expression was deeply serious, he rarely blinked and he waited for her lips to open before he would talk.
The guy on the left seemed to be the rookie, a Brenton. He was a lot younger than his counterpart; had possibly just reached his twenties. A cloak partially covered his face, hiding him in the shadows, but a vibrant green glint shone through, piercing the darkness.
Gilraen also noticed a darker presence hiding in the shadows. The two figures sitting in front of her seemed to be oblivious to it: all their focus was centred on her. It was hard to place this presence, it was like a cold shivering sensation pinning her ability to breathe, she held her breath for a moment, and then she cleared her throat to alleviate the choking sensation. Then she noticed a black aura coming from the corners of the room. The weird thing was, that the black aura seemed to be blacker than the shadows surrounding the presence; it was a man but it seemed that he was himself a shadow.
"It's been a good five minutes now and she hasn't said a word, do you think we should actually question her now?" The rookie was obviously bored. The older Imperial answered coldly.
"Very well, friend. We found you out cold near the body of a Nordic man known as Tredan Agilberht. Now the funny thing is, we found an odd looking Ebony Dagger near your right hand. It was covered in blood." The Imperial was looking for a reaction. "What's your name?"
"... Gilraen"
"Just Gilraen? What's your last name?"
"I do not have one." Or does she? She couldn't remember having one at least.
Hazy recollections began to appear in Gilraen's mind. She did remember running away from a certain event, but could not remember from what. She also recalled a sense of peace whilst running away, which she surely would not have felt if she had killed someone. Though she tried to process what had happened, much of the event was shrouded in fog.
"I don't remember..." Gilraen still felt the presence of the shadowed man; concentration was drawn to him rather than the two authoritative figures.
The rookie slams the table. "Like hell you don't! What happened! Where did you get that dagger!"
"I idon't/i remember. All I remember is running away from something." Attention was now drawn away; the abruptness of the sudden outburst had shocked her for a moment. Stinging images of the dagger pierced the mind. Where did she get this? The authoritative figure un-sheathed the Ebony Dagger and placed it on the table.
"Does this look at all familiar to you?" The Imperial was curious where Gilraen had got the dagger.
"No, I never use daggers, I prefer using the bow."
The Imperial asked the Brenton to leave the room for a minute. The rookie was wearing some kind of strange cloak, though not your average monk's cloak. It was a midnight blue colour and Gilraen noticed a symbol, some kind of red seal. It looked like a forester of some kind, imprinted on the shoulder. He walked off, opening the door to the left of the room. As it opened it a beam of light revealed all sorts of shackles and objects of torture. The door closed and again the room fell to shadow.
"We know you had something to do with this. We're not who you think we are. We can help you. We just want to know what happened after the killing, and where you got that dagger from."
Gilraen was more preoccupied with the symbol that she saw on the rookies' shoulder. It was so familiar. But why is it here, in Tamriel? Wasn't that in Vvardenfell? She couldn't place where she had seen it before, but she knew this was more than an interrogation with your average guards.
"I can't really remember, all I can remember is running away from the man. I ran into a alley and then..."
Images of the dark alleyway began to form from the back of her mind. There was agony in the images, and then she remembered a deep voice speaking to her.
"The Foresters, they will find you. They will turn you to their side. They will use you as a pawn. Come sister, be loyal to the Dark Brotherhood." Images became dark and hazy. Gilraen could only remember sinking into an aybss of darkness, she did not fight the urge to keep standing as she felt that all her endurance was being sapped away. Frame by frame, she sank to the ground in a comforting motion.
"...And then?" The Imperial was curious for the answer.
"I tripped on something… People these days leaving rubbish scattered all over the place... I must have hit my head on the way down."
"Let me get this straight. You were running away from something, you don't know what, and you tripped on some rubble on the floor..." Anger began to swell in his previously emotionless face. "...do you really expect me to believe this!"
"I'm as confused as you are, sir."
"What about the Dagger, huh? Where did you get that from?"
"Look, I've told you already. I don't know..."
There was a moment of stale silence. The Imperial sighed at her response, knowing that he was going to get nothing more from the Wood Elf. The Imperial called for his partner and a few guards. Gilraen could tell he was looking for a different answer. There was more to the picture here, that strange seal. It seemed most familiar to Gilraen. There was also much focus on the dagger that she'd mysteriously had in her possession at the time of the murder.
A beam of light entered the room again as the door opened, the Brenton and two Imperial guards walked in. The guards grabbed Gilraen.
"You are under arrest for the murder of Tredan Agilberht. You will be sentenced to death."
The guards escorted Gilraen to a dungeon with only four cells. There was little light. The cell they took her to had a crudely formed window that was barred with rusted iron. There was only one empty cell. One had a Dunmer. The other had a shaded man; he didn't look like the murdering type. He was in the cell across from the Dunmer, who looked skinny, worn to the bone. He also seemed eccentric, rambling as she was being escorted to her cell. One of the guards hit the cell bars with his gauntlet, this made the old Dunmer jump back, rambled abuse continued from the cell.
The guards opened the cell door in the bottom left corner of the dungeon. It screeched; it obviously had not been used in years. It wasn't much of a cell; there was only a table in the corner and some form of a bed. Remnants of rats lay here and there. To the right of her was the cell of the unknown man. It appeared that he ignored the Dunmer, he was possibly used to the rambles of the crazy Dunmer, and maybe it was like background sound to him. A white noise perhaps. Gilraen however was not used to this. She made the best of it and rested upon the bed roll but before she could sleep, she was compelled to look outside through the rusty barred window. She stared at the stars in the distance twinkling in the background of the midnight sky. Thoughts of being outside again bombarded her mind. She kept staring until the hypnotic stars made her eyes close.
She had a vivid dream. Running through the shadowed alley, everything fell silent. There were sounds from the locals, no scurryings of the rats, even the sewers could not be heard. It seemed everything had stopped, including Gilraen. She stopped dead but it wasn't in terror, it was more out of surprise. She saw a dark figure walking slowly towards her. She couldn't actually see anything; it was like a shadow beyond a shadow. The only way she could tell something was there was by her senses. She could see the dark aura that was blacker than black. Then she heard a voice.
"Welcome to the Dark Brotherhood, child."
She woke up, sweat pouring from her forehead, heart racing, breathing uncontrollable. Yet she felt oddly cold from this experience, almost like she had been awakened anew. Gilraen screamed in her dream. Or was it a dream? Whatever it was, it woke the neighbouring Dunmer. Gilraen walked up to the cell bars and was about to apologise for the rudeness, but did not get a chance.
"I..."
"Well now, a pretty little Wood Elf. You're a little far from the forest, huh?
Looks like your days of woodland frolicking have come to a tragic end. To go from the gladdened home of Valenwood to a rat infested hole like this... How very sad. Those walls must feel like they're closing in on you. Pretty soon you'll go mad and the guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting. That's right you're going to die in here Wood Elf. DIE!"
The footfalls of guards came from the passageway and she could see the shadows from their torches.
Gilraen backed away slowly from the bars, fearing for her life.
"Hey, you hear that? The guards are coming for you. Hehehehahahaha."