mercy hated skyrim. it was obvious to anyone who was unfortunate enough to cross paths with her as she traveled this harsh and unforgiving land. she longed for the vast green hills of cyrodiil, hunting ayleid ruins for treasures long lost (and selling them to the highest bidder), watching stars reflecting in the waters of lake rumare when she’d finished a job in the imperial city, and, most of all, she missed her comrades. the thieves guild, however, were very adamant about one thing: you don’t kill. mercy wasn’t proud of her mistakes, if one could call murdering an innocent “a mistake,” and she had to move on from it. and move she did -- she’d fled across the border into the northern territory of the nords, and found herself in the middle of something even more frustrating.
the civil war between the nordic stormcloaks and the empire grated on her nerves. it made living her already miserable life even more miserable if she couldn’t step outside of any particular town with someone either trying to recruit her to their cause or trying to shoot her full of arrows in the middle of some skirmish. she had no particular loyalties, not anymore, and she only wanted to live her life in peace. the nords seemed to know nothing of the word.
the half-imperial, half-dark elven woman moved often because of these conflicts. danger was everywhere, and she couldn’t risk being caught. so now she packed up her belongings and slung her pack over the back of her horse, and began the long trek from falkreath to riften. she hated being there, due to the presence of the thieves guild, but it was because of their grip on the place that she could visit there with some semblance of comfort; she didn’t have to constantly look over her shoulder for fear of imperial soldiers dragging her back across the border to face justice. the thought of having such a moment of peace made the woman’s lips curve into the barest hint of a smile... until she heard something that made her entire body grow cold with fear.
“yol toor shul!”
a dragon. she knew nothing about how to combat one of them, and had never faced one before; how could she have? they’d only recently appeared, along with the whispers of the fabled dragonborn, but she’d never paid them any mind. now she wished that she had. the creature was enormous, and its great wings were spread wide as it flew low, its fiery breath scorching the land beneath it.
she dug her heels into her horse’s flank, urging the stallion into motion, and quickly. mercy was no match for such a beast, of that she had no doubt. why tempt fate? but being unfamiliar with skyrim’s rocky terrain put her at a disadvantage, as she had no real idea of where to hide, or the best way to navigate her horse through the area and to someplace safe. but she couldn’t just stay there in the open, so she’d pray to the eight (that she didn’t actually worship or believe in) and hope that she could outmaneuver the creature and somehow sidestep danger, as she usually did.
the horse needed no more motivation, having sensed the danger, and took off at a clip. mercy dared a look behind her, to see if the dragon had noticed her. she couldn’t have been all that appealing of a meal, after all. she seemed to be safe, for the moment. but when she turned her attention back to the path she found herself barreling toward a battalion of soldiers; the city watch, perhaps? all were armed and ready to defend their village, and directly in her way. cursing, the woman pulled back on the reigns and the stallion protested with a whinny, then reared back. she wasn’t an experienced rider, by any means, and she had no real bond with the animal. clearly if it meant life or death, the animal wasn’t going to give her any pause of bucking her off and leaving her behind. not that she didn’t understand it.
didn’t mean she had to like it. especially when she was thrown to the ground. she let out a cry of pain, then threw an assortment of curses toward the stallion, now bounding away with all of her belongings strapped across its back. now she literally had nothing. she was armed with daggers at both hips and a bow on her back, but her quiver certainly didn’t have enough to kill a beast of legend. the woman shakily got to her feet, shooting the nearest guardsman a nasty glare; not that it was anyone’s fault that this had happened, given the confusion and how fast everything had happened, but. she should have just trampled someone to get out of here. now she was certain she was going to die, and someone was going to take the blame for it.
she turned her attention back to the battle, despite her aching body. that fall had hurt, after all. but she’d think about that later. now she had to focus.
“pray to whatever god you want, men. i’m not sure it’s going to help now. anyone know anything about taking one of these things down?”
she drew her bow and nocked an arrow. going for the eyes seemed like the smartest thing, but that meant drawing the beast to the ground.
