Night was falling faster than he had expected, stupid north and stupid winter. The sun colored the skies in his favourite colours: crimson and flames as he tried climbing the cold rock mountains, to the north of Whiterun. He was tempted to watch the sunset but there were more important things to do. He had to reach the top of the mountain before the sun would dawn again. There were no mistakes to be made, after all he had been planning on doing this for months.
The hunter was swift, but not swift enough to avoid becoming his prey. He already knew that the local Jarl, leader of those petty nords, had put a bounty on his head. And he had spied on the palace ever since: every night, when the moon would hide behind the clouds he would go to the palace and spent most of night sitting atop the roof of the Jarl's personal quarters. Here he would listen in on the jarl's private conversations. Apparently some local hero character had taken up the job, and now it was his turn to cool him down.
He had almost made it to the top of the mountain. Everything that separated him from his target now was a steep cliff. It didn't matter, he had prepared for this as well. He took the dufflebag he had taken with him. The leather was used and had spent many a rainy day in his company. He had made it himself one day. But this was not a place for nostalgia, nostalgia was a thing that would be more dangerous for his career than taking a darn arrow to the knee. He opened it and checked his gear one last time, after this point there was no chance he could ever get back, the fall was too deep and the only other way down the mountain led through a troll's cave and a necromancer's hideout. Two places he prefered not going to if unnecessary. There was another way around the mountain but he was not prepared, which was a choice, to face the harsh weather of the northern parts of this bloody province. In the bag he retrieved his climbing gear; a rope and a hook he had "borrowed" from a thieve's guild member in Riften while he worked for Ingun. These were exactly what he needed right now. He attached the rope to his waist and started climbing. The top of the mountain was close.
His prey approached with every movement he made. He had to wonder though, if this was the person the jarl had said so much about. He, just like his brethren found the idea quite preposterous: a dragonborn! In this era? You really would have thought the nords would have tracked each and every one down after the dragon wars. He decided not to put any more thought to it, who knew what those bloody humans were capable of in their primal stupidity. He shifted his weight, and thought of his first arrival in Skyrim. At the time those darn nords were just as stupid as they were now, even after all those years they did not show any sign of mental evolution. He grinned. The "hunter", as he was described to him, would never even fathom what was awaiting him.
He had past months planning every detail, from the gear he had to take, to the potions and poisons he would have to brew or have to get brewn. He past months experimenting with Ingun Blackbriar in Riften. She would create the potions and poisons he needed, then he tested the batch while gathering ingredients for the next one. His intel had been clear, the target would be using exclusively frost magic so as long as he would take care not to get bitten by the stupid lizard his potions would cover any frost related damage. He hated magic, whatever it's form. When he finally reached the top of the cliff he opened his bag and took out the potions, the drank one of them and took the last steps separating him from his target.
There he was, slowly approaching him, his weapons clutched in the palm of his hands. His prey had come. And as predicted, the hunter would become the prey. He waited for his prey to be within range and spoke:
"Ahnok Mun, I have been eagerly awaiting our encounter, do you wish to start the hostilities, faal vukein?
-Will you shut up and get it over with you bloody lizard! I came here to get paid, not to chitchat with my target. I came here to get some easy money, now die!
-Poor fool" He replied, licking his lips in anguish. He was going to have a great meal.
The hunter was never heard of again, but some of the local hunters claim to have heard screams that night, the screams of a tortured soul. Some even say they were close enough to see the mountop light up that night, as it was engulved in dragonfire.
Comments
He attached the rope to his waist and started climbing. The t... more