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It still amazes me how people mistake an assasin for a thief. Thieves find break-ins and pickpocketing a thrill-rush. The thieves I know of don't care who they target and what they take as long it translates into gold.

My standards are far higher. If I have a writ on you, I'll give you twelve hours to do whatever you fancy (of course you won't know you only have twelve hours left to live). After your time expires, I'll cash in your septims. Gold is only as good as the next writ.

Try explaining this to a half-wit watch guard convinced you're the thief he's been looking for. He sees a bow and a quill full of arrows on my back, finds lockpicks in my pockets and that's enough for him to go da-da! Honestly, the Imperial Watch are a bunch of lazy, stupid bastards with swords and heavy armor. They'll arrest anyone they see "fit for a crime" so they can knock off five minutes early for a hit on the head with a laddle and a belly full of ale.

Unfortunately for me, imperial soldiers are stubborn selective listeners and quite apt in hauling skinny-ass girls like me to jail.

Now I'm locked up in a dingy cell for no good reason. Talos, it stinks worse than a latrine. Wish I hadn't eaten those smoke slaughterfish sticks earlier; the taste is crawling back up my throat.

I suppose I could lockpick my way out but how far would I get? I hope Sentias is back at the base. Frankly, he owes me a favor. For now, I'll have wait until the morning when I can get my free visit.

Should I trust the crusty bedroll? Yuck! It smells like a cow pissed on it. Looks like the stone floor will be my five-star bed for the night. Hopefully, a night is all I will spend in this forsaken hole.

Psst - pretty Redguard. You awake?

"Huh?" Is someone calling me? Where am I? It's so dark I can't see a thing. Oh, wait, I see rows of bars swimming into view. Shit - now I remember. I'm in jail. I honestly don't remember falling asleep.

"Pretty Redguard. How you like your cell? Is it grand enough for you?"

The voice is coming from the cell opposite me. It's coming from a goddamn dark elf. I'm tempted to escape and steal back my shortsword from the evidence chest it's stored in, just so I can come back and hack off the sly smirk from this bastard's face.

"What'd you want?"

"Oh come now, there's no need to be hostile. We're room mates after all are we not?"

"Go piss on a daedroth."

"Your elegant speechcraft tickles my wit. It'll be a pleasure to watch you rot in that stinking cell of yours. If you have deluded yourself in believing you can escape, you better think twice. No one has ever escaped. You're going to die here Redguard. Die."

"Aren't you a welcoming host?"


The Dark Elf has clearly lost his marbles. Actually, I think most dark elves have a screw loose somewhere in their brains. I've never known one who wasn't borderline nuts.

"You hear that Redguard? It's the guards coming for YOU!"

Footsteps approaching. Heavy and light? Heavy I expect but there is a set that doesn't move in line with the rest. Who's coming and are they really coming for me?

The dark elf continued with his insults but I ignored him and tuned my attention to the whispers nearing my cell.

"My sons are dead Captain Renault," croaked an elderly man.

"The Messenger wasn't certain of this. They could still be alive," a woman reassured. From the slight trebble in her voice, I sensed doubt.

There was a pause in discussion as the party made their way down a flight of stairs. I soon found myself face to face with three heavy armored soldiers flanking the sides of a wealthy old man. Either he had committed a horrendous crime required for such an escort or he had some other business with the Imperial Prision.

"What are you doing here?" A male soldier blurted out as he stepped up to my bars. I raised my brows at his question. They weren't here for me?

"What you think I'm doing here - having a picnic?" I couldn't help myself.

"Must be another mix-up with the watch," the woman soldier reasoned. "Damn useless excuse for soldiers."

"Get back to the wall prisioner or I'll run you through!"

I glanced at the longsword sheathed against his right hip. From the way his index finger and thumb rested near the hilt, I figured he was capable of unsheathing the weapon and taking off a slice of my arm with one manoeuvre. Who was I to argue with the man and his blade?

I shuffled my way to the very back as the cell door swung wide and the party entered. Suddenly, I felt the weight of the iron clamps around my writs. Up until now, I was able to cope so it wasn't much of a bother but with so much metal in such a small space, it made the burden obvious.

"Added precaution," the other soldier, a Redgurd, said as he approached me.

"You've spelled me with burden haven't you?" I had to chuckle and admit they were good. I didn't even see or feel them do it.

"Go ahead and run. I doubt you'll get very far in the interim."

I glared at the Redguard, twitching with an urge to bite his nose off.

"Once I open the door Sire, we must move quickly," the woman said and started pressing bricks on the wall next to me in a certain sequence. The wall grumbled as it swung wide, stirring up clouds of soot and dust. Through dust particles, I saw the beginnings of a dank corridor. A way out!

"Prisoner, stay here or you will die by my sword," the woman stated harshly.

I frowned at each member of the party, not entirely sure what was going on. What guard would offer a way out to a prisoner?

"Who are you?" The question came out before I realised it.

"You dare ask questions!"

"Only to people who enter my cell with no interest in me."

Glints of steel flashed before my eyes. I saw two longswords pointed at my throat and forehead. Damn my mouth sometimes.

"Put away your weapons Blades. I want to see this prisoner's face," the elderly man ordered.

He stepped closer so I was able to see his face clearly. Many wisdom lines streaked his forehead and the corners of his eyes. His grey eyes held a calm understanding; no doubt he had lived a full and varied life. I sensed a vibrant mind despite the rigors of age. My attention wandered to the glamorous ruby around his neck, which burned with a fire of its own; bending light so it shone in various directions at once. Keeping it in place was a fine, gold chain linked together by dragon symbols.

"I am Uriel Septim the seventh."

Uriel Septim was the emperor. Surely this wasn't him standing before me?

"That's a bold introduction sir. You do realise I'm a prisoner?"

"So it would seem but I've seen you in my dreams and that is enough to convince me otherwise," he answered in a matter-of-factly manner.

I took a step backward. Talos perserve me! I was surrounded by nut-jobs.

"You're afraid? You don't need to be, we're not here to hurt you."

"Then what do you want of me?"

"Up until now nothing. That is until I saw your face, which is the very one I have been seeing in my dreams nights prior. In my dreams your face glowed with the glory of Akatosh. I believe fate has brought you here and for me to meet you before the end."

"End of what?"

"My life."

Note: I'll be uploading more of this story to its own blogger site, which can be found at [1] --Seriphyn 02:07, 18 May 2010 (UTC).