Chapter 4. The Real Dream
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She had her bags gathered, and had been sure to make plenty of the nessisary potions, cheap restore health and the like. She had also had her friend Ajira make her some scrolls of vitality, just in case.
She left her house and walked down the cobblestone street leading to the southern exit. As she walked many people looked and stared, but her mind was made, and her pace steady. Though her heart was full of courage she could not help but have tears streaming down her face.
She walked solemnly through the watchtowers. The night before Azura had spoken to her in yet another vision. She didn't remember exactly but it happened after she shouted that the food was poisoned.
First, she saw the face of Azura, and, during a glimpse into the near future, Azura spoke these words…
Poison, An Untimely End.
Asassins Hang Round Every Bend.
Friends And Family, They Are Dead.
Leave For Balmora, Keep You're Head.
Hearing these words she had bolted into her house, the lightning was a sign of the finished prophecy, the rain the tears of the Nevaraine.
The rain was still pouring steadily, as steadily as the streams of tears that ran down Vvardenfell's face. She was now crossing over the adobe bridge leading into the back gates of Balmora by the silt strider port.
Prophecy told,
Dreams reality.
Rang a voice in her head. She payed it no heed.
She walked into the clothier's shop across the road.
"I need a robe, for I fear it's dreadfully rainy outside." She said, walking up to the store owner.
Without saying a word he walked to the back, and came back with the cheapest looking robe he could find.
"That'll be 10 gold." He said, a smirk on his face.
She handed it over, hardly caring that he had just ripped her off.
Vvardenfell walked down the brownstone lanes and alleys of Balmora. It was raining harder and everyone who could be was inside. A few guards roamed the streets, even thought they were at risk of rusting their fancy bonemold armor.
There was a scream, and Vvardenfell saw an up-tight looking Breton female running into town.
"You N'wah!" She was shouting.
Behind her was a small pack of nix-hounds, probably about 3 or 4. She was screaming something about "cursed guards" but was too far for Vvardenfell to hear. It was then that Vvardenfell realized that there were no guards. They were all on the other side of town probably dealing with some thief or something.
She looked down at her side. There, a sight she knew well, was her steel broadsword of hewing. Without a second thought she found herself muttering some ancient Dwenmer spell and with a slight flicker of light disappeared.
Vvardenfell had decided that if she couldn't live in Caldera she would make the world her home! She decided to become a rouge. She would live life on a limb, to pay crime no heed, and danger no respect.
As Vvardenfell came back into focus she found herself face-to –face in front of 4 blighted nix-hounds. They were probably rouges from the north, around Khuul, those hideous creatures usually had blight.
She scoffed at the sight of those pitiful animals and drew her broadsword.
Almost immediately a nix-hound was upon her, it's long claws sinking deep into her arm. She hacked her sword straight into it's stomach and threw it off of her.
The other two had surrounded her, with a third coming round her rear. She stuck her sword through one's head, turned and struck the other in the chest as their leader jumped for her leg, she hacked her sword down and managed to cut off it's left forearm. He disability gave her just enough time to bring her sword down upon it's head.
Throughout all this the Breton had fallen to the ground and was covering her head with her hands
Vvardenfell walked up to her and put her hand on her arm.
"It's okay, the threats gone." She said, trying to comfort the shaken girl.
It was then that Vvardenfell saw the guards come running, swords and spears drawn, and one archer was even firing arrows at her! They ran up and surrounded her, and she saw one of the largest guards leaning down and questioning the Breton.
"So, I think she saved me." She heard her say between sobs.
The man made a signal with his hand and the guards sheathed their weapons and walked over to him.
Vvardenfell brushed herself off and walked away as quickly as she had come. She looked back and saw a guard picking the Breton up.
While her head was turned she failed to notice a handsome Dwenmer man walking towards her. It appeared that he had been traveling for quite some time. He wasn't paying attention either, and the two collided.