Erika Northwing and the Archer of Whiterun: Ch. 2

• Posted by MarkusMasterThief June 24, 2014 - 640 views

  

  The killer gathered whatever necessary supplies he could find at the bandit camp before returning to the forest. Though he had slept well, he knew it would not be long before other wanderers would come to claim the camp for their own, and he could not afford to be taken by surprise. He briefly considered burning the corpses of the bandits he had slain, but reasoned that nobody here in Skyrim would report finding them dead. Especially considering that, aside from the lethal arrow wounds, there was nothing to link their demise to the now-infamous "Archer of Whiterun". Besides, their kind did not deserve a funeral pyre, he thought to himself... the worms would offer a far more appropriate burial.

  Upon departing from the camp, the killer climbed high into the treetops and surveyed the scene around him. The Thalmor had not sent a replacement unit to the Hold just yet; no doubt they wanted to make sure that their vicious adversary was apprehended first. Good. This meant that they were beginning to feel afraid... but it also meant that it was time to move on. As the killer climbed effortlessly across the trees, moving with the grace and agility of a fish through water, his eyes fell upon a distant town. He recognized the river flowing beside it, and the bridge linking it to Whiterun Hold... this had to be the town of Riverwood, the killer thought. He sat perched in the trees for a good while, watching the community with a curious eye. "What simple lives these Nords lead", he thought to himself... despite his distrust of their kind, he was nonetheless fascinated by their lifestyle. Eventually deciding to take a closer look, the killer descended from the trees and slipped quietly into the town.

  "Ain't every day we get visitors in Riverwood." the blacksmith Alvor commented, noticing the newcomer.

  The killer looked in his direction and noticed arrows on his smithing table. "Are you a merchant?"

  "Aye. Lookin' for a new blade?"

  "No... but your arrows will do well."

  Alvor traded his arrows for the accompanying price of coin. "You a traveler? You don't sound like you come from Skyrim."

  "I do not." The killer leaned against a post, crossing his arms. "My birthplace is irrelevant, however. My home is the far-reaching forests of Tamriel."

  "So I take it that you're a vagabond."

  "And a hunter."

  "Hunter, eh? You'll find that the woods of Falkreath Hold are filled with deer and bears. Good sport for someone of your trade."

  "I'll remember that. I've been searching for more challenging game as of late; my quarry lately has been... disagreeable."

  "Just keep your eyes peeled out there; they say that there's a killer on the loose that prowls the forest. Could find you if you're not careful."

  "I fear no killer; even the mightiest predator may fall prey to a smarter opponent."

  "Aye... spoken like a true hunter, that. Say, I didn't get your..." Alvor looked up from his forge, only to find that his acquaintance had vanished. "... name?"

  *****

  Erika rented the guest room at the Bannered Mare to review the evidence gathered at the scene of the crime. There wasn't much to go on; the elves had been slain in a heavily forested region, meaning that the killer was most likely using the trees as cover. But when she investigated the ground around the trees, she found no sign of any footprints where the killer would have been hiding.

  "So maybe he... hid up in the branches?" She thought to herself. It wasn't a bad guess; the branches would have provided a good vantage point for the Archer, plus the Thalmor agents wouldn't have immediately thought to look up. Now this only left Erika to determine which races in Skyrim could climb trees with such ease -- especially considering that, in order to hang the bodies the way that the Archer did, he would have had to climb down from his hiding place to pick up the bodies and display them the way he wanted.

  "Let's see..." Erika said to herself at her desk, "The most eligible candidates are a Khajit, an Argonian, a Dunmer, or a Bosmer. All four races are gifted in the art of stealth, but how do they fare with a bow?"

  Erika continued to analyze the possibilities for the next few hours, when the Jarl's steward Proventus Avenicci knocked on the door in the early evening.

  "Come in," Erika said.

  "Thank you. How goes the investigation?"

  "I suspect that our man is a Bosmer. According to these findings it's very likely that he shot at the Thalmor agents from up in the trees, meaning of course that he'd have needed to be able to climb them easily -- especially if he was carrying bodies up with him later. Bosmer are born with the agility required to do such a feat, not to mention it'd be easy for one to remain hidden in the trees. But there's still one thing that doesn't add up..."

  "Oh? And what's that?"

  "It's this." Erika showed him one of the arrows plucked from the bodies. "Look at the construction; the way the head's fastened to the base... the markings in the head... this arrow wasn't purchased, it was hand-crafted from bone... and wood."

  "Your point being...?"

  "According to tradition, the Bosmer are forbidden to ever use wood for things like fires and weapons and so forth; yet here we have distinctly hand-crafted weaponry that uses a wooden base. But all the same, its design resembles that of an elven arrow..."

  Suddenly a guard came rushing up to Erika's room with dreadful news. "Steward Avenicci -- Ms. Northwing -- you must come at once! There's been another attack -- Falkreath this time!"