Blue and green eyes in the night. Hot daggers and needles. Little poltaces that when places on the skin create all sorts of pain, burning, freezing, electrifying. Peeling off a section of skin, layer by layer, then healing it and starting again.
I can still see their smirking, laughing faces. Self-satisfied fetchers looking down at me and taunting me their nasty false offers of ceasing the pain in exchange for information. I have to escape. They will keep me alive only as long as I have a potential usefulness. But their patience isn’t forever.
I thought I was safe here in Skyrim. Thought my only danger was from Urtisa’s men. Yet they came in the night as they had in Cyrodill. Yes, it was the night. I was going to write in my journal, but I fell asleep. Then I heard noise outside the door. I thought it was the drunk next door. How foolish.
They had a mage. Dominion solders always do, don’t they? I was paralyzed, my head covered. Then I was carried off. I struggled as much as I could. I didn’t want to be tortured again. One time of it is enough. Hours they carried me along the road, their magic keeping me from hearing what they were saying. I could hear the pattern of voices, but not what they said or enough to identify who was involved.
I tried to shoot flame, thinking perhaps my magic could overcome, in some small way, the spells around me. Their mage was too powerful. I was at their mercy. I steeled myself for the inevitable.
Last time I just waited for an opening and I got one after the second day when one of the mer, who had an appetite for dominating his victims more intimately, was persuaded that I would, should he allow me the comfort of his company, tell everything I knew. Altmer do tend to believe the stereotypes of other races, even those of other mer. While he was still in the throws of passion, I got the chain of my wrist shackles about his neck, set myself ablaze, and broke his disgusting pale neck. I tried to free the others captured, but I was too late. I was the only one to have survived.
I had known Belvo had not made it, his screams were too shrill and then he was too silent. I had hoped the agents from Narvis and Ebonheart would have made it, but they did not. And the poor Argonian slave they had found with the Ebonheart agent, she did not deserve what befell her, she was not a part of our network. From what I could hear of her choked sobs, she was sent to cook the agent’s meals for him. I believe it. Most House mer at that time did not trust to put Argonians into the service, too afraid they would flee from their slaver masters.
This time they did not torture me, merely set me upon the cold ground, threw a blanket over me, and disappeared, laughing, into the direction they had come. I waited for the spells to wear off. I was cold and shaking when I began to move again. I got the hood off as soon as I could and looked around. The darkness of a cloudy sky and trees greeted me. I knew I could not stay there, they would come for me. I had no idea where it was I was left, so I started downward from the mountain in the direction the voices had returned in. I stayed close to the trees and listened as much as possible for anyone heading my way.
I heard nothing, but I couldn’t stop shaking. My legs kept giving out below me. What would be waiting for me in town? Should I go to another town? What could I even do? What if they would come after Qau-dar next? I need to protect him. Yet I do not know the faces of my enemy.
I ran, tripping over stumps and roots and rocks in the bleak darkness. I could not steady my mind. I just kept seeing those thin Altmeri faces staring down at me like wicked undead corpses as they prodded me with sharp objects and healing spells. Breaking and fixing my body again and again.
I do not know what to do about entering town. I can make out the direction of the city, but I hesitate to return. What if this is part of a trap. It inevitably is. Yet I cannot stand the thought of harm coming to Qau-dar or his child.
I must find out who is behind this. And who do I know who seems the most likely to be a Dominion agent in town? Why, none other than that smarmy wamasu carcass of an Altmer that works at Rialas’ shop. I wonder now if Rialas is housing him for the Dominion. That leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. It would explain why they took Qau-dar in, trying to court more Khajiit to ally with them. Things are far more dire than I had hoped. I need to rally my own allies. The Companions do not take lightly to Dominion solders in their homeland. I shall get their support to go after the Altmer. Hopefully the beautiful Bosmer is not truly involved, it would be a shame to make an enemy of him, he is so lovely to gaze upon. But as they say, in war one needs to throw away the white to get to the yolk.
I must make the proper rituals to give me battle strength. I know my body does not want to cooperate, but I shall not allow myself to stand idly by when potential harm could come to my Daelekil