-ONYX-

I take note of the breton battle mage on the higher ground of the cave on my right side. Clearly it's more of a vantage point for him; killing the mage would be prudent considering I'm not entirely too thrilled of being bombarded with destructive spells while I deal with the bandits closer to me. A blade to his throat would be more stealthier and the less alarming method, but that would require me being up close to him, and doing that would really mean I have to go through the main social area, through the humiliating activity. Too much factors, too many torches lit; even the black mist won't keep me out of sight. I retract my gaze back at towards the main crew… obviously the three sitting on the table who are entertained by the quivering bound and gagged imperial girl… an archer of course is the khajiit S'enji, a nord with a battle axe sheathed on his side, then the other is most likely another breton who seems to have a sword. On the table where the orc is having his feel on the wood elf girl's fruitless struggling, another dumner who seems to have two blades with her ready; of course this orc has a gigantic steel sword sheathed behind him, obviously to match his steel armor as well. So far six in sight and as I whispered to detect any other aura I may be dealing with, I am able to find another behind within the rear end of this cave… I remember this place well enough before these low lives claimed it for their own. I had to deal with a few Redguards here who came with numbers; I remember the battle behind the waterfalls and even I had to depend on clever tactics; the battle was one nonetheless, but the present right now does offer its own set of trouble… not so much the number of opponents but the situation.

Seven so far. There used to be eleven of them it would seem, with the four having been dealt with silently. Swindler's Den housed a dozen of these low lives and kept them safe from justice's hands. How many helpless women such as these two have fallen to their ways? No matter. Justice isn't what I am here for. Unlike the previous encounter I had with the three nords and the khajiit in the entrance of this cave, this one won't be so easy. Stealth will only work once and if I am to spare the captives' lives, I need to pick wisely. Avarice is already locked with a poisonous bolt ready to fire; staying within the confines of my shadow, I veer my aim towards the breton mage who is enjoying his view of the 'show' from the top corner. Taking a deep breath… I aim. One shot to kill and it would leave me with six more to deal with. Just one.

I press the trigger and the result was the deadly bolt sticking right into the battle mage's eye socket. Instant death.

"Thought I heard something."

The table with the most bandits is the closest to my first kill. Both the nord and the khajiit immediately turned where their former teammate let out his last sound from his death. With Avarice's enchantment working to its finest as the breton dies, I feel his life seeping into me, slightly giving me a renewed sense of vitality.

"Rodore, everything alright over-?"

That must've been his name, but now he's just a carcass. His useless weight falls from the top and right into the ground very close the table where the festivity with the imperial captive was happening.

"UMUMNNF HNNF MN!"

The bound and gagged naked woman saw the dead body and frantically screamed through her gag as well as finding some sort of vigor to thrash in her bonds. By now the bandits are on full alert, weapons being drawn or grabbed and immediately looking for the one responsible for the death. Looking for me. By now the wood elf herself struggles fervently. Both hers and her fellow captive's muffled cries are joining the fray of the confused and alert marauders.

"The one who is responsible will pay!"

That would be me. It won't take long until my location will be revealed so with Avarice loaded with another bolt, I move forward, aim and with that I shoot the nord, right into his trachea, sealing the deal on yet another opponent, again the life force of the dead nord pervading within me. Two down, and by now, their other companion has made her way out of whatever she was doing behind the walls; with her in addition to the crew here with a mace and shield, I also have an orc with the affinity for a great sword, two archers, and a dumner with two blades in tow. This will be a fight indeed.

"There! That black mist moves! Some conjurer of shadows!"

Of course it would be the damn dark elf to take note of me. The rest of them followed her words; including the damsels whose eyes are now filled with some hope as well as fears. Their struggles had also concurred with their facial expressions; behind their knotted rags they start letting loose with their muffled concerns, more or less. For now it's best to ignore them as the breton and the khajiit had let their arrows fly. No use hiding in the shadows as I rolled out of the way from the shots and fired my next bolt; it will probably be my last shot since the others are getting close. Luckily that bolt took aim and I managed to hit S'enji somewhere vital, which caused him to snarl in pain and drop his bow. That's one less archer for the moment and the other one shot his next one, which I barely evaded from stepping to the side. No use for the shadows; time to confront them in my full form.

"It's him!" The shadow that is upon me vanishes as soon as I commanded it to by thought. The breton archer yelled as soon as the enchanted mist evaporates. "That's him!"

"What are you babbling about, Odvan?!"

"I think what he means is, Ghorlorz , is that this ebony man is none other than 'Onyx'. The Dragonborn."

The female dunmer knows my name. The archer Odvan knows of my kills; I can see it in his eyes as his hands are trembling while holding his bow. Ghorlorz, who seems to hold the command presences with his great sword merely, looks at his companions dumbfounded. I take note of the redguard who stands herself close to the trussed up wood elf who, along with her fellow captive also holds that astonished look through their eyes and the forced posture of their face thanks to cleave gag.

"UUUGUNBUUN?!"

The wood elf muttered as she shifts uncomfortably in her bondage. The imperial girl starts to let out tears as she starts pleading through her gag. Probably asking for my help or what not.

"The Dragonborn?!"

By now I find myself sheathing my crossbow behind me. I could take more kills as they gawk and ponder upon my presence. My history more than often precedes me; for good or bad, one can't ever truly tell until the spur of the moment. For this moment it does serve the purpose of intimidation factor and its result is apparent through the breton who is practically ready to run and the with the rather delayed progress of the dunmer. She seems almost in awe that I am the 'one'.

"Fool! He kills a few of us and I'm supposed to believe that this is supposed to be Alduin's bane?"

"He bears the gifts of the Daedric gods! The Masque of Clavicus Vile is upon his head!"

The breton is indeed educated with his daedric lore. Though the said helmet is indeed distinguishable with the prominent horns and the intricate 'metal face' that has Avalea's story behind it. I wear it for the reason to hide my eyes that tells the origin of my kin.

"The shadows he conjures are of Boethia's powers," And of course the dark elf knows her Daedric goddess. Boethia might take kind to her as soon as I slay her. "This is the Dragonborn known to many as Onyx."

"Huupfh! HNNF!" The imperial girl's pleas are obviously adhering to desperation.

"Fnf mn fuhnn uhnu Uh umnn muhgn fuuhn ufh uuuhn uhnuuuuhnu fhu mu fnuhn!" The wood elf chimes in with the imperial as she struggles fruitlessly despite the obvious sensations of the rope tied between her womanhood.

"Who …. Cares…!" The raspy and strained voice is from the khajiit S'enji who is favoring his left arm from a bolt still painfully penetrating his dark fur. "… Curse… this fool to… Oblivion!"

"My thoughts exactly." The orc grips his sword tightly with both hands on the hilt. "There is a handsome price for the death of this 'dragonborn'! And Ghorlorz the mighty will be the one to claim the price!"

Asinine and ignorant souls. They know not what they do. They are oblivious of what I truly am. Sadly, the damsels in distress, as conveyed through their pleas and the worries in their eyes knows nothing about me as well. I am far more than Dragonborn. I am more than the armor that keeps my true face a secret. This will be their undoing. My right hand finds itself on the hilt of my katana. They may know of my past but they are about to be introduced to 'me'.

To Be Continued...