This story takes place in TES universe but doesn't follow the story of the games.
This is still being written so expect slow updates.
A hooded figure sat at the counter of Candlehearth Hall, an inn in the city of Windhelm. They were sipping a mug of mead. They wore rough leather armor, a bandolier with multiple pouches that went over their left shoulder, a long brown cloak stained with grass and dirt, and on their left side was a sheathed longsword. Conversations and laughter could be heard all around.
"Oi! You! I know you!". A middle aged man got up and pointed accusingly at the figure, the inn went dead silent as everyone's attention was now on the man and the accused . The figure lowered their mug to the table, still holding onto it, without looking at him they spoke, "do I know you?" It was a woman, her voice radiating authority and discontent.
"I'd recognize that getup anywhere! You run with them bandits up near Kynesgrove!" His expression turned murderous. "You raided my village! Burned it to the ground!". Everyone's attention was now directly on her, shocked faces littered the inn. The woman took her hand off her mead and put it at her side, she turned to him, her hood still covering the left side of her face, her black lipstick was the only visible feature "if you were too weak to defend your pathetic little hovels then I'd say you deserved it'', her tone carrying obvious malice. Oooohs could be heard from the others in the inn.
He shot up from his chair and stormed over to her, his face red with anger. He forcefully pulled her hood down to reveal a dark elf with hair the shade of coal neatly made into a sort of mane. Everyone in the bar gasped loudly, whispers and murmurs filled the inn, she's not supposed to be in here! Someone call the guards! In one swift motion she quickly opened a pouch on her belt and pulled out a small vial, she uncorked it and threw an unknown liquid onto his face and torso.
He winced for a moment before realizing the liquid was harmless. "Heh, the gray skin thinks water is gonna stop me. What do you think I'll do, melt?". She smiled wickedly and made direct eye contact, her dark red eyes glistening as she spoke, "it's not water."
She pointed the palm of her hand at him, a flame suddenly appearing in it, she blasted it into his face. He burst into a flaming torch, rolling on the floor screaming, lighting the entire building ablaze. She figured it was time to take her leave and quickly moved to the exit, the screams of a dozen people echoing behind her. Pulling up her hood, she got on her horse and fled the scene.
She took a shortcut through the gray quarters, the unofficial name given to the cesspool the nonhumans of Windhelm were forced to live in. She slowed her horse to a trot, looking at every house one by one, they were all covered in mud and filth from the waste that washed in from the human side. She knew this neighborhood. One house caught her eye. It was falling apart, the windows were shattered and the wood looked like it was ready to cave in. The sight of the house triggered memories that caused seething hatred.
Eight year old Nerosi Delrayn hears her parents arguing downstairs. She gets off her tattered and creaky bed and walks towards the stairs. Once there she squats behind the railing and eavesdrops. "We can barely afford to feed ourselves, let alone a child!" She hears her mother say angrily. "You can't seriously be suggesting this?" Her father retorts, sounding offended. She's too tired to pay attention to what they're saying. Now becoming bored she walks back to her room and climbs into bed, drifting off to sleep.
She dreams of something she heard her father say a few months prior. "Goddamn humans, why don't they just go back to whatever shithole they crawled out of? Us Dunmer did nothing to them and yet they make us live in this slum. We should rise up against them, seeing as we can actually do magic without blowing ourselves up. If only most of us weren't such milk-drinkers". She didn't understand anything he was saying, the humans seemed nice enough and never treated her badly, although she rarely saw them. The law forbade dark elves from entering the human side of Windhelm; multiple guards stood at the border, but every now and then one of the humans would wander into their side.
She remembered one particular time. She was playing in a puddle on the road, an elderly man wearing a fancy suit came up to her, a twisted smile on his face. "Aw look at the little darkie, enjoy life here do ya? You belong here." He seemed nice, he even gave her a tiny scrap of bread, why would someone who hated her give her food? It didn't make sense to her.
She awoke to a knock on her door, "Nerosi, honey it's time to get up, your mother… wants you to do something for her''. He hesitated when he spoke, like he was trying to force himself to say something. She opened the door to find her father looking down at her, his face showing signs of distress and sadness, must've had a bad dream, she thought.
She followed him downstairs to find her mother sitting at the kitchen table, her face blank and unreadable. In her hand she had a small folded up piece of paper. "I need you to take this to Mrs Urent down the street." She gets up and hands it to Nerosi. "Ok mother," she said eagerly, she liked Mrs Urent. She was over two hundred years old, the oldest Dunmer in Windhelm. Her husband had died sixty years ago, leaving her a widow. Mrs Urent didn't have anyone else to talk to so Nerosi would often visit her to hear stories about what the Dunmer homeland of Morrowind was like.
She walked out the door but stopped on the front step. Curious to see what the note said, she unfolded it. It was blank. Confused, she turned to the door only to have it slam shut and lock. She knocked on the door… no answer. She went to one of the windows only for the shades to quickly close, she began to panic and cry. She frantically pounded on the door, "mommy! Please let me in! Why are you doing this!? Daddy!" No one answered. Dunmer walked by looking at her but did nothing. She put her back to the door and slowly sunk down into a fetal position. Her wretched sobbing became louder and louder.
She was pulled out of her memory when a man in a carriage quickly drove past, splashing freezing water onto her. "Goddamn humans", she muttered to herself while shivering How could I have been so naive!? She mentally scolded herself. My father was right! Humans are worthless creatures, the only thing they're good for is scrubbing the horse shit from my boots.
She continued her rant as she rode. It's not like the elves are any fucking better, There's thousands of them here and they just let the humans treat them like can't even stand up for themselves! By Azura, they couldn't even kill a bea… Her mental tirade stopped abruptly. A single tear dripped down her face. She sniffled, wiped the tear away and continued riding.
She finally made it to her destination, the main gate of Windhelm, talking to the guard stationed there was one of the patrons of the inn she'd "renovated". He pointed at her yelling something, due to his thick accent the only words she could make out were "elf" and "bitch". You there, elf", he spoke authoritatively, "get off your mount and come with me."
She sighed and raised her arms in the air as a sign of surrender. The guard smirked victoriously and lowered his weapon. Suddenly she spurred her horse and plowed right through him, her horse trampling and likely killing him. As she rode from the city she heard people yelling and bells ringing. The sound brings to light another memory.
It had been a year since her parents had abandoned her. She now lived on the streets, since like her parents, many elves couldn't even feed themselves and wouldn't be too keen on taking in a kid. She got by through pickpocketing and begging.
It had been working so far, she could afford one slice of bread every other day. As she was begging she noticed something. An older Dunmer had just left his house, his door still open ever so slightly.
She recognized the elf, Teryn Yeymont, the richest Dunmer in the slums. He had a whole 60 Septims to his name, an amount unheard of to most of the other elves. She sneakily crept up to the door, checking to make sure no one was looking, when she was sure the coast was clear she slowly opened the door and bolted inside, forgetting to close the door behind her.
She rummaged through everything, looking for anything of value, so far she'd found a bronze locket and a small silver dagger. Realizing that was likely all she would find she headed towards the door, only to see Teryn standing in her way, looking directly at her. His face contorted into anger and he started yelling, without knowing what else to do she threw the dagger at him.
It went right through his eye. He gurgled as he tried to pull out the dagger before collapsing onto the floor, dead. People had understandably heard his screams and went to check on him, only to find his corpse with a dagger in his eye, with Nerosi standing over him, his prized locket in her right hand.
She was chased out of town by an angry mob, they were throwing rocks, sticks and whatever else they could find at her. She made it to the main gate, the mob right behind her. She ran through the gate and kept running. Never looking back.
While reliving the memory she had unconsciously rode the entire way back to camp. The lookout greeted her, snapping her out of it.
"Nerosi! My favorite elf!", an orc called to her with slurred words. A genuine smile came to her face and she pulled down her hood, "Umurrg! Drinking on the job again?" she called out.
Umurrg gro-Lorgan was an Orc nearing old age. He had practically been her mentor in her early days of the gang. She loved him like a grandfather.
"What? Who? Me? No! Never!", his words becoming more and more slurred. He tilted his head to look behind her, seeing smoke rise from inside Windhelm.
"You wouldn't know anything about that would ya?" he pointed towards the smoke.
"What? Who? Me? No! Never!" she replied, smirking. His eyes lit up and he barked out a laugh, "we've taught you well girl."