"My Jarl," Erika stated boldly as she knelt before Jarl Balgruuf's throne, "After several days of investigation, I have all but deduced the Archer's true identity. You contracted my help, so I am obligated to inform you of my next move: I'm going to delve into the forests of Falkreath Hold and track this man down. When he's captured, dead or alive, I'll bring him to Whiterun to convince your people of his passing and restore peace to their troubled hearts."
Balgruuf smiled. "Your spirit is noble and courageous, Lady Northwing. Even in your investigation you have done my people a service that we shall never forget. May the gods watch over your battle with the Archer."
Erika rose to her feet and put her fist to her heart before turning and heading toward the Whiterun stables. She could feel her heart beating in her chest as the carriage approached Falkreath... even with her talent in combat, she knew that she was facing an adversary unlike any she'd ever known before. This was a hunter of mer -- and more than likely men alike -- and the forests were his domain. As the carriage came to a stop and Erika set foot upon the lush soil of Falkreath, she could almost feel the Archer's glaring eyes watching from the shadows. Taking a deep breath and bracing herself for the worst, Erika drew out her sword and crept into the wilderness ahead...
It had been a mere 20 minutes before Erika determined that she was hopelessly lost. The sun had set beneath the horizon, and the thick trees and plants surrounding her turned the forest into an abysmal void of darkness. Her only company in that far-reaching pit of blackness was the sound of what few birds sang their songs at this hour, amid the insects chirping and screeching in the leaves. Erika's breathing softened as she delved deeper into the forest, keeping her wits about her. Her adversary could be behind any tree, watching from any shadow. She clutched the grip of her baskethilt sword tightly, and then stopped -- she heard a rustling in the bushes just ahead of her. Her eyes widened, and her position shifted. Steadily she crept toward the sound...
In the very next instant, Erika found herself falling backward and rolling down a 10-foot-steep hill. The figure in the bushes had attacked, and the force sent her flying. Erika frantically brought herself back on her feet, and turned to face her attacker: a frostbite spider. The beast crawled grimly down the slope of the hill, its fangs dripping greedily with venom and saliva. Erika put her sword arm forward... only to realize that her weapon had fallen out of her hand when she had tumbled down the slope, and landed near the spot where the spider now stood. Her mind was racing to determine how she was to go about retrieving the sword, but she didn't have much time -- the spider was now within pouncing distance. The first attack was meant to disorient its prey; the second would poison her for sure. The spider pounced speedily at its quarry, but Erika was no slowpoke herself; she leaped out of the spider's path, and looked around for something -- anything -- to defend herself with for the moment. Again the spider readied its legs and pounced, this time from a closer distance. Unable to prepare enough energy to leap away, Erika rolled beneath its momentous jump and promptly returned to her feet. Though this maneuver had bought her a few precious moments, the spider was now close enough to attack directly. It spun itself around as Erika rose to her feet, but as it lunged forward to strike her body, Erika hastily ripped a branch from a nearby tree to keep the spider's monstrous fangs at bay. The beast hungrily pressed its great weight against the stick -- Erika's only defense against its paralyzing venom -- and the wood began to crack. Erika couldn't rely on its durability for much longer, and knew that she had to think fast -- she could already feel the monster's venom dripping upon her neck. In a surprise defense maneuver, Erika kicked the spider's hairy abdomen and, as it reeled from the pain, broke the stick and stabbed the creature in two of its many eyes. The agony was enough to cause the spider to stagger back, thus giving Erika just the opportunity she needed. She made a mad dash for her sword right as the spider recovered from the shock of its injury, and could hear it charging angrily -- the creature hissed -- Erika claimed her weapon -- the spider pounced forward -- and in one swift instant, Erika's blade pierced the mighty creature's brain, finally slaying the monstrosity. The spider let out one final agonized shriek before the mad surge of hunger left its eyes, and Erika kicked the carcass from her sword. The adrenaline rush that had saved her life began to crash. Her breathing deepened and her vision began to blur, but she couldn't sleep. Not here. She had a job to do, and she wasn't about to disappoint those who counted on her success. Not to mention, this was just one spider -- who could say that others wouldn't take advantage of her unconscious body and devour her in her sleep?
After regaining her strength, Erika climbed back up the slope and braced herself for whatever else would come after her. She was more than prepared this time, having laced her blade with frostbite venom. Her eyes watched the wilderness closely, and her ears started to become attuned to the many noises of the forest. Was this sense of familiarity how the Archer felt, Erika wondered? Was it how the world looked to him? It was nothing short of thrilling, she thought; keeping her wits about her, doing her best to remain hidden from the surrounding predators, all while pursuing prey of her own... prey which may yet have come sooner than Erika thought. Several minutes after her battle with the spider, Erika heard the distinct sound of an arrow whizzing through the air and piercing the body of a bandit. Thinking fast, she lay low and searched around for wherever the bandit may have been standing, and immediately her eyes fell upon a fire-lit camp. And there, reclaiming the arrow from the bandit's corpse, was the Archer himself. He was just as Alvor had described him, however his face was obscured by a hood and mask. Immediately Erika could feel a nervous tension gripping her soul, but she knew that the advantage was hers; he didn't have the shadows to hide him this time. And so, drawing her sword from its sheath, Erika pointed the blade at the Archer and stepped forward into view.
"Halt! Don't you dare draw your weapon, or I'll strike you where you stand!"
The Archer glanced up at her. "Your heart is determined. I assume you're one of the Dominion's lapdogs?"
"This isn't about the Thalmor," Erika argued, "This is about the lives you've taken. The fear you've brought to Skyrim."
"You're a fool." The Archer growled, "This is all about the Thalmor. The crimes they've committed... the blood on their hands... surely a noble soul such as yourself would not answer to their call?"
"Your hands are no cleaner than theirs, Archer. You killed them in cold blood -- skinned their bodies! What say you in your defense?"
In an instant the Archer sped forward, struck the weapon from Erika's hand, and held it to her throat. Erika didn't dare move with the sharp blade so close to her neck -- the venom would leave her at the Archer's mercy!
"I say that your desire for justice is misguided, Imperial." The Archer said angrily, "This is about more, far more than dead elves. They must pay for what they have done... ... she must pay..."
Erika's attitude took a curious tone, and she asked "Who? ..... Who must pay?"
Before the Archer could respond, the two heard footsteps surrounding them. Instantly Erika and the Archer looked aside, and realized that they weren't alone -- the rest of the bandit clan residing at this camp had returned, and were none too happy to find intruders. The bandits drew their weapons, and Erika found herself back-to-back with the killer she had come to apprehend. Subtly the Archer handed Erika her blade, and whispered "I shall accompany you to Whiterun after this, if you will do me the kindness of hearing my tale. What say you?"
A confident grin spread across Erika's face as the bandits closed in. "I say, 'may your aim be true'."
Comments
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