Erika arrived to Falkreath on horseback and beheld the sight: three more high elves of the Dominion, each killed by a single arrow to the head or other vital parts, and each one skinned and hanging upside-down from the trees. As with the previous scenario, little could be determined up front as to who was to be held responsible. But this time, Erika had an advantage that she could not take last time: she was able to study the bodies and determine what kind of weapon was used to skin the victims.
"Excuse me," She asked one of the guards, "I've been ordered by Jarl Balgruuf of Whiterun to investigate this case. I should like to see at least one of the bodies to analyze it."
The guard shrugged. "Help yourself. If it means apprehending that damned Archer, do as you please."
"Thank you. Oh, by the way, did anyone by chance come here recently on horseback? A Bosmer, perhaps?"
"Nope. Though I heard tell of a strange Bosmer fellow who stopped by Riverwood. Bought a few arrows and disappeared without a trace, so the blacksmith said. His name's Alvor; you might want to talk to him after you're done with the bodies."
Erika was excited. Finally, a potential lead! This was exactly what she needed to really get the case started! But of course, the witness could wait -- rotting flesh could not. So, without further ado, Erika assisted in cutting the bodies from the trees and was granted permission to study one of them in the Falkreath Hall of the Dead. The corpse was laid flat upon a table, and Erika was left alone to assess the damage. First and foremost, she removed the arrow from the elf's head -- this time the arrow was built of iron, and the professional craftsmanship confirmed that the arrow was purchased. Now there could be no doubt that she was right about the Archer being a Bosmer, and she could hardly wait to learn more from Alvor's sighting. As for the flayed meat, the cuts seemed very precise and practiced -- but nowhere near surgically precise. In fact quite a few cuts went deeply into the bodies, and the marks left behind indicated a slightly larger blade than a scalpel... more than likely a dagger of some kind.
Upon closer inspection, Erika noticed that one of the bones had been cut by the dagger, but not all the way. Judging by the direction of the wound, she could determine that the bone had been cut by chance, as the killer simply intended to slice away some especially thick skin. But this in turn allowed Erika to experiment with various knives, to determine which type was used. Fortunately the blacksmith Lod was generous enough to provide one of each available type of knife that he sold, and Erika tested each one on a spare chunk of firewood... but even after testing and comparing the marks left by each blade, none of their markings resembled the one left by the Archer's knife.
"Hmh.... so that probably means he made the knife himself." Erika mused, "Judging by these marks in the wood... comparing it to the bone... the knife can't be very big. Just big enough to do the job, but not big enough for fighting like Lod's knives..."
After doing her tests, the body was prepared for burial and Erika rode her horse to the town of Riverwood. Upon arriving, she approached Alvor's smithy and pulled out her journal to take notes. Alvor recounted his brief encounter...
"He seemed to come out of nowhere that day. Here I was, just tending to the metal, when I noticed him just looking around in the middle of town like he'd never seen anything like it before. He was dressed in black and green armor... didn't look like anything I'd ever seen in Skyrim before. For a wood elf, he stood pretty tall -- just about my height, in fact. His hair was brown and loose, and his face was painted. His eyes were yellow, and had the strangest ferocity in them... lookin' at him was like staring down a sabercat as it readied its claws. His voice was strange, too... had a distinct accent to it. Definitely isn't from around here, I'll tell you. Bought himself some arrows and then just vanished into thin air like a ghost."
Erika took notes on the details that Alvor provided, and returned to Whiterun to recount what she knew. Her man was a wood elf, standing taller than most of his kind. His height obviously didn't interfere with his agility, but it might have amplified his strength when compared to his kinsmen. He had brown hair, yellow eyes, and a painted face, and relied on hand-made weaponry forged from the land... but that's where things didn't add up. She had been to Valenwood once, and knew the culture; if the Bosmer killed someone -- ANYONE -- then they would have to eat the body's meat completely, yet the flesh of the high elves was not consumed. Also, the Bosmer protected the forest with religious commitment, yet the Archer had indeed been crafting arrows from the land. So if her man was a Bosmer himself... why would he be breaking tradition? Especially something so sacred...?
*****
The report of three more Thalmor enforcers being found dead and skinned soon made its way to the Dominion's embassy in Skyrim. The high elves in charge of the embassy were, of course, left shocked by the gruesome display of violence being dealt against their people. And the question of who, or what, was responsible had yet to be answered... however, word of Erika Northwing's investigation also spread to the embassy, as did the evidence she had collected...
"Milady," one of the Justiciars reported to Elenwen, "An investigation is being conducted into the identity of the infamous Archer. We received word that an Imperial named Erika Northwing is getting close to uncovering--"
"I know..." Elenwen responded, "I... I know of lady Northwing and her efforts to deduce the Archer's true identity. You may return to your duties as usual."
"Is something the matter, milady? Your tone is..."
"Don't pester me with your petty sentiments!" Elenwen snapped. The Justiciar promptly silenced himself, and resumed his duties. Meanwhile Elenwen stood before the open window in her private quarters, watching the outside forests in silence. She could feel the wind blowing through the leaves... hear the birds singing their songs... see the trees swaying back and forth in the breeze... and somewhere in that serenity, hiding deep within the deadly wilderness of Skyrim, he was there. She could feel his vengeful glare piercing through the trees and through her very soul. Watching her every move... waiting for her to make just one mistake.... and one day, he would come. One day, the predator would find his quarry. One day the hunter would claim his prize.
And she knew why this would come to pass. She knew all too well...
