Nero woke up with a bad taste in his mouth, he did not like thinking about Minrathous. His memories of that place were less than favorable...but then his memories of most places in the Imperium were similar.
Because he didn't have a window, he did not know what time of day it was, or if it was day at all. But, judging by the candle that he had forgotten to put out, he didn't sleep for very long. Which was just as well, he felt fully rested anyway, he never had required much sleep.
After getting dressed he dug in his pack for some of the halla meat he had leftover from his hunt. It was dry, but cooked and filled his stomach, although he was getting terribly sick of halla meat.
He needed to survey the area, he wanted to be more familiar with Kirkwall than his hunters were when they arrived.
It was dark when he left the hanged man, although there were still a few people quietly drinking inside. He found himself wandering through Lowtown, looking at the buildings for any places where an archer might be able to hide, looking for hiding spots, seeing where alleyways led. If he needed to run he wanted to know where he could go.
When he found the Alienage he was brought up short by the huge tree in the center of it. He had heard of Alienages, but there had been none in Minrathous when he was there and he had never been in many places long enough to see one. He was a little confused by how such a huge tree could be found in such a crowded part of the city. If the trunk of the tree was hollowed out he was sure it would have made a nice sized home for someone.
He was pleased to see that the tree appeared to be content despite its environment. The leaves were green and the bark was healthy. Nero noticed some shrines and figured that the elves must worship it or something. He knew next to nothing about elven lore so he was not sure if this was normal or not.
Nero continued on and found himself in Hightown but was a little uncomfortable with the area, if he wanted to find slaves in this city this is where he would have to look...but he did not want to find slaves. He could do nothing for them; most slaves didn't even know that their life was less than ideal, he did not wish to shatter their views, as misguided as they may be.
He walked for hours, the sky barely started to lighten by the time he noticed some of the merchants heading to their stalls and decided to head back. He didn't particularly want to be caught up in a tide of people, as much as he had missed civilization. He preferred to view people from the sidelines where he was hidden in the shadows and went unnoticed. It's harder to get caught that way.
Nero was very nearly to the Hanged Man when he heard the sound of steel on steel; someone was pulling a sword from a scabbard. He stopped and wrapped his hands around the hilt of his daggers where they were settled on each hip. A man came out of an alleyway to greet him.
"Hullo friend! We were just wondering if you would like to make a donation to our organization you see, no need to be so tense. A few sovereigns will do just wonderfully." He smiled at Nero, his teeth stained and many missing.
Nero suppressed a shudder as his adrenaline began to rise, although he hoped to avoid a fight, he did not want to draw attention to myself, not here, not now.
"Unfortunately, friend," he hissed, "I do not have that kind of money on my person."
The man frowned, and the other men that were hiding in the shadows stepped forward, wielding daggers, swords and a few with bows. Nero did not want to do this today.
"Well that is a problem, Messere. See, I can tell that you have some money that you should be willing to part with, those boots are not cheap. So maybe if you are unwilling to give us your gold, we'll just take your clothes." he reached his hand up and motioned for his men to attack.
As Nero crouched he unhooked the strap holding his cloak on and let it fall, twisting as he did so, so that the cloak wrapped around his leg. as Nero turned around he kicked his cloak into the face of one attacker and caught another one in the chest with a dagger.
Nero tried to assess the situation while avoiding the blades coming at him in every direction. There were too many men for this to go well for him. Because he was battling alone he would not be able to find the time necessary to put his hand to the ground and call forth the essence, nor would he have the time to concentrate hard enough to call it to him anyway. Attempting to use his type of magic would be impossible while he was avoiding death in the form of blades.
Nero had taken down several men so far, but it seemed that for every one that fell two took his place, his daggers flew through the air like extensions of his hands, keeping the attackers far enough away that they could not grab him. Nero grabbed the man behind him by the shirt, and flung him around to throw him into the group of men at his front, Nero needed to escape, he would not win this battle.
He cut through a few more men, blood spurting onto his face and his dagger catching in their leathers before he finally made his way through them. He reached the stairs that led to the docks; they were the closest. Another man stepped into Nero's way and immediately his daggers found themselves in the other man's chest, and blood bubbled from his mouth.
Before Nero had a chance to completely free his daggers he felt an arm go around his throat and a fist connected with the side of his head.
He saw black for a few seconds, and his right ear was ringing slightly, but he did not feel any pain as he grabbed the knife at his belt and shoved it under the mans ribs behind him. Nero did not get the chance to pull it from the other man before he stumbled backwards and Nero was grabbed again, this time from the side.
Nero's weapons were gone, stuck in dying men and he was left with naught but his body. Slightly disoriented he elbowed the man that grabbed him in the chin and his head snapped back, Nero felt more hands grab him from behind again and he kicked backwards but the hands were only replaced by others.
Nero was ready to acknowledge defeat when he felt a blade enter his midsection from behind, just under his ribs on his left side. He felt the tip of the sword stretch the skin of his belly before being pulled out of him in a spray of blood.
As strong of a fighter as Nero might be he still crumpled to the ground, where he was kicked and punched a few times before someone sat on him, to stop him from struggling, which he wasn't anyway, while they untied his boots and tried to pull them off.
Nero took the opportunity to place his hands on the ground and let the river come to his aid. He felt the essence of the tree in the Alienage and called for it, it responded strongly. Tree roots pushed through the stones that made the street of Lowtown and impaled Nero's attackers. The one sitting on him was dragged off and Nero could breath a little easier, but his blood started flowing freely again. He had not been aware the man sitting on him was sitting on his wound as well, stopping the blood flow with the pressure of his weight.
Warmth began spreading down Nero's side again as he struggled to his hands and knees. Screams rang out around him, and he could only pray that he could make it far enough away from this place to get some sort of help.
He tried to stand but did not have the strength, so as the tree roots sunk back into the ground, his attackers being indisposed, he crawled on hands and knees as close as he could to the Hanged Man. He found myself in an alley beside the main doors and leaned against a red crate, he was too weak to get any further, the best he could hope for was someone to notice the bloody elf in the alley, but he did not hold his hopes very high.
Before he even realized what was happening his eyes were closing. Nero's last thought before he passed out was that his hunters would be livid they were not able to capture him alive and that they weren't the ones to kill him. He would not die the Archon's doll. Nero smiled as the darkness fell upon him.