A Diamond in the Storm

by Dreksler

A re-done version of my ill-fated story 'The Cold North'; when Tamriel is threatened once more, who will rise to defend it? But how do you defeat a monstrous god, whose prophecy says how you will fail and the world shall burn. RATED M FOR VIOLENCE

3. Chp 3: Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend

CHAPTER THREE: DIAMONDS ARE A GIRL'S BEST FRIEND.

Shiny. A pretty, little diamond laid out on the dark table-top. A small glint of white light shone into her blood-shot eyes, catching her attention even more. Her pointed ears were perked up, cleaning the air of sound and stuffing it down to her eardrums. The dark-elf gulped quietly in the shadow- she had entered some nobleman's house, in the north district of town. The hallway, where she was ducking now, was quite small- she was pressed against a rack of hanging coats. Fur-lined, gold-trimmed... Why was it that the rich ones were always lucky? She shook her head clean of thoughts, as her eyes zoomed on the table across the dark-shadow sea.

She leaped across, flitting across the gap and seized the diamond in her scrawny hands. And a high-pitched scream rang through her ears; she twisted her head around to meet a young woman's chip-blue eyes widened in fear. Kaoc! Why me of all nights, huh? Shitfuckdamn! The dark-elf female twirled around, and began to run towards the door- pleasant moonlight shining through the glass panes. Sakkara slipped, and cracked her knees against the stony floor. She grunted in pain- the blonde noblewoman behind her screamed again.

Sakkara's gaunt hand reached out, and clenched around the embossed door handle. She stumbled into the cold, black night- her knee throbbing as she teetered on the streets. Her home.

Sakkara panted harshly, as she sprinted down the street- soaking her feet in the puddles- coarse shouts following her. Her auburn hair whipped around her lean shoulder, as she slid around a street corner. To a dead-end wall, spiralling about a foot high- it was clean-shaven and smooth. Sakkara cursed loudly into the night, as the iron manacles sliced into her wrists. She screamed, as she was tugged along by gruff, Nordic guards- whose annoyed leers scorched into the back of her head.

She gave up eventually; as they hulled her along the cold cobblestone- her shouts were quiet. Her voice was hoarse, and a dull ache trembled down her throat.