Tides and Politics

[Angmor]

“Mmf,” the object answered. Eleyda felt her hand softly but firmly lifted aside. “I’m fine… unfortunately.”
It was a small thing, but Eleyda found she breathed a bit easier. Anck's voice was irritated in the extreme, but there was none of the tension that would come with being in a state of extreme pain. And the first, Eleyda figured, was perfectly justified. Being captured for her participation in a poorly planned heist was bad enough before this bizarre turn of events.
Of course, Eleyda thought humorlessly to herself, This day hasn't exactly been full of sunshine for me either.
Taking brief stock of herself, it was clear that her ankle had not taken kindly to an uncontrolled fall in weighty armor,and was sending cold twinges of pain up her leg in protest to every movement. The mud on her face and neck was clammy and unpleasant, raising gooseflesh down her back. About the only consolation to be had was that she had at least gotten out of that damn negotiation. And, surprisingly, that Anck was here. It was one thing to find ones self in a damp, lightless space. It was quite another to find yourself there alone.

But then, if they were by themselves... Why did the darkness around them suddenly feel so much less empty?

Perhaps it was a noise, or a sight, something so subtle that it was picked up only in the subconscious, but Eleyda had the distinct feeling there was something or somethings else in the chamber, watching them. She'd had feelings like this many times before, and she was not inclined to ignore this one, especially considering the circumstances of her arrival. From beside her, Anck was starting to say something, but Eleyda quickly put her hand where she approximated the Wood Elf's mouth to be, willing her to be still as Eleyda strained her ears. She could not decide if the noises of rustling and padding feet where truly there, or merely a trick of the pulse suddenly pounding in her ears. Anck struggled, but she held her firmly by the shoulder, listening... At last, there was a sound that was as familiar as it was unmistakable; the rasp of drawn steel.

Eleyda's heart sank. Her memory mocked her with a recollection of a passage in her favorite book, where Lady Elena Benoch recounted her victory over a party of bandits in a dark cavern. Eleyda had always wondered how such a thing could be possible, and even if she knew, she was sure it would have been no help here. The sounds were too quiet, too sinuous, too intentional. She had no doubt that whoever was out there, they were not hampered by the darkness as she was.
Her fear grew, as one blade was joined by several, and she imagined she could see them glinting in the shadows all around them.
By Azura... How do I fight them if I can't see them?
Perhaps it was by Azura, or perhaps just her own memory. Whichever it was, she felt instantly foolish. Letting go of Anck's mouth, she pawed frantically for the ornate cloth collar of her armor. Her gloved and muddied hands made it difficult to grip the fine silver chain she wore around her neck, and she felt like swearing before she finally extracted it from where it was tucked under her breastplate and closed around the ring through which it was looped. While of less lineage than the Moon-and-Star, this ring was even more important to her. This was the Ring of Azura, given to her from the hand of the Daedra prince herself. Without time for subtlety, Eleyda simply tugged the fragile chain loose and let it fall away, jamming the ring over her finger. Immediately, the half-imagined confines of the room became clear under her enhanced sight, obscured only by the greenish tint of the enchantment. It would definitely seem that they had not traveled far, instead just falling into a hollow chamber beneath the pier. She could see that the walls were a jumbled collection of the same small boulders used to support the jetty, standing in sharp contrast to the orderly stone slabs of the ceiling, obscured as it was with dirt and slime. All of this was only noted on the periphery, however, to the quintet of masked figures in leather armor that surrounded her. Especially one standing directly beside her, with a blade poised to strike.

Crying out in surprise, she brought her arm up in an instinctive block even as she realized she did not have her shield. Luckily, the assassin's weapon was only a light shortsword, not heavy enough to penetrate the thick golden bracer covering her upper arm. Feeling the shock of impact traveling down her shoulder, she swept the figure's glimmering blade aside, bringing her other fist hard into his stomach with the same motion to send him stumbling back.
On a surge of controlled panic, Eleyda surged to her feet, ripping her sword from its sheath and sweep it into a wide slash, making the assassins hesitate just long enough for her to find some measure of poise. "Anck, stay down!" The warning took precious seconds, but she gave it anyway, raising her blade...

And then they struck.

Whoever had written that every skilled fight was an elegant dance had never tried it on slippery and uneven terrain, with nothing but night-eye enchantments to pierce the inky dark. For Eleyda, it was a dirty, desperate struggle as she parried and darted, her boots scrambling for purchase and her injured ankle protesting at every movement. Her balance was further hampered by the dark obscuring the directional cues in her peripheral vision, robbing her of a frame of reference. Her only advantage was that her opponents had not yet figured out that killing one person was not always a four-man job, and with constant and careful footwork, she was able to keep them getting in each other's way as she fended off their blades with quick parries and simple counters.
But it could only last for so long, and she knew it. She could keep moving, but without reference, she would eventually run out of luck and corner herself. And her enemy was quick and agile, with the occasional stroke she managed to land so far sliding off leather without damage. Her armor had stopped a few light thrusts, but by the way they glimmered in the dark, the blades were obviously enchanted somehow. It was only a matter of time before they found a gap, and she discovered exactly what kind. With that thought, a realization hit her like a load of bricks.

She had gotten sloppy.

It seemed unthinkable. Her father had warned her again and again as he had her do endless drills and exercises, pushing her to the limit of her endurance and beyond. Getting sloppy had been couched with dire warnings that if she ever allowed it to happen, she was a dead woman walking. With how hard he had pushed her, and how conflict had honed her even more since then, she had mostly put his advice behind her, along with the rest of her memories of him. But now in the middle of a fight for her life, she could see it all play out. It had been too long since she had been in a desperate struggle, or had her abilities truly tested. She had gotten comfortable, confident in herself. Her drills for the past few months had been short, and not very taxing on her physically. And now these assassins had so carefully put her in a position where it would take her every skill and more to win, and she was ill-prepared.

As if the thought were a trigger, a foot connected hard with her chestplate, sending her stumbling back. Her boot caught on a jagged stone, and she fell. Fear shot through her in a jolt, and it seemed as though a whole new reserve of energy had been released, now that she realized it was there. As the hooded figures bore down on her, she scrambled frantically to her feet, faster than her enemies were prepared for. Parrying the awkward slash, she sidestepped, placing herself out of reach of two of the assassins and putting another off-balance. The fourth however was ready for her, lashing out in a controlled series of strikes with his blade. Eleyda blocked and parried, but unlike before, she did not retreat. Instead she moved inward, locking with the cross-trees of her sword and guiding her opponent's weapon up and aside. In the same motion, she slammed her free fist into his stomach, doubling him over against the impact, before slamming the pommel of her blade down into the back of his head. He fell to the ground with a soft squelch and a cry of pain, which became a dying scream as Eleyda reversed her grip and put all of her weight into a finishing thrust.

She pulled her blade free and turned, assuming a ready stance, reaffirming her stance and grip. She felt all the old instincts coming back. The same voices, the same drills, the old attitude of a Legion recruit with something to prove, and ready to walk over the corpse of anyone who got in the way. It seemed her adversaries could sense it too. They hesitated, just for a moment, eyes glinting in her night-vision. Of course, it was just as likely that her killing one of their fellows had something to do with that. She felt her eyes harden, her lip twisting in the ghost of a smile. "What?" she said sternly. "For all the preparation, you didn't think it'd be that easy, did you?"

They did not answer, simple readying themselves and rushing forward. This time though, she was ready for them. She parried the first strike and side-stepped the second, planting her boot into the side of an assassin's leg and knocking him back. She blocked, riposted, blocked again, and swept his blade aside, her pommel and sword striking him hard across the masked face. For a moment, she was faced only with one. Seizing the opportunity, she attacked ruthlessly, battering against his defenses before finding a gap. Leaving nothing to chance, she slashed with both hands, drawing the edge of her blade across his stomach and piercing the leather protection there. There was a dying gasp, but he did not die instantly. There was a spasm, and Eleyda felt a warm flash of pain as something slashed her elbow, between the joint of pauldron and gauntlet. The pain was not great enough for a serious cut, but with a rising panic, she realized that she was still falling. Her momentum carrying her forward, she hit the wet dirt with a flash of pain, unable to stop herself, and unable to get up. With her eyes widening, she realized immediately what the assassins had down to their swords.
Jinkblades. Paralysis.
The realization sent a spike of ice through her gut. She knew of enchantment. She knew that the spell could last for seconds, or even a full minute. More than enough time for one of the assassins to finish her off. And falling on her face, she was unable to so much as see it coming.

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

I knew I only had a few moments to get the trapdoor open, because as soon as the crowds were cleared this place would be swarmed with guards. But despite all I tried, the damn door just wouldn’t open. I figured there was some kind of rope or latch underneath so it could only be opened from inside. Eventually, after a fireball failed, I gave up. There had to be another way inside. But the dock was empty of any other weird entrances, as far as I could tell. That only left one possibility- you had to swim to get inside. I gave an annoyed grunt- harbours were nasty places to swim under any circumstances, and it was freaking winter. But I could hear the guards shouting orders, so I hurriedly undid my overcoat, tossed it over a crate, and dove into the waves. The water was freezing and filthy, and I tried not to think about what might be in it. I came close to the bottom, among small, drab-coloured fish and crates and barrels that had fallen overboard. I made my way underneath the dock, glancing upwards through salt-stung eyes. There was a small opening, just large enough for one person to get through. Slowly, very carefully, I made my way towards it. It was dark, but I readily had a night vision spell available.

I was very careful to emerge from the water without making any noise. The stink of dead fish invaded my nose, along with other things that I didn’t really want to guess at. But what immediately drew my attention were four people lying on the ground, and two standing around one of them. I immediately picked out two of the figures as that rude Bosmer broad I’d run into earlier- and the other was the Nerevarine. The Bosmer was lying as flat as possible to stay hidden, while the Nerevarine was being raised up by one mysterious figure so the other could slit her throat. I didn’t recognize either of them, but I wouldn’t win any points for guessing they were assassins. Weird that they were going after the Nerevarine of all people, though. Two other assassins lay unmoving on the ground, so she’d obviously put up a fight. She wasn’t struggling now, though- her body was completely immobile, but her eyes were rapidly flickering and her breath was short and panicky. Paralysis, then. Cheaters. Raising one hand, I slapped the water as hard as I could, and then disappeared back underneath.

I only waited a few moments before one of the assassins came rushing over, peering down into the darkness. I reached up and snatched hold of his ankles, yanking him down into the drink. He hit the water with a surprised gurgle and twisted, but I grabbed his sword arm and positioned him so I had a clear swipe at his neck. Then I leaned forward and bit down as hard as I could. The assassin struggled for a few moments longer, but then stopped fighting. The strange bliss of the bitten had entered him, and I held him like that for a moment longer, drinking a few gulps of blood. When I removed my teeth, I made a gigantic gash in his throat so that he was sure to bleed out. Then I left him floating there, a stream of red blood colouring the water. I grabbed his knife and swam back up to the hole. When I emerged into the air again, I could see that the last assassin hadn’t made the same mistake his buddy did. He was at the Nerevarine again, intent on finishing the job. I hurled the knife right at him. The assassin was forced to drop what he was doing and deflect the dagger with his own, but it grazed his forehead. Blood gushed out of the head wound immediately, blinding him.

I leapt out of the water and ran at him while he was blinded, snatching his sword arm and twisting it. But the assassin reached into his belt with his free arm and tried to gut me with a smaller knife, forcing me to let go before I could snap bone. I avoided the thrusts and lunges that he made, sidestepping and moving backwards, looking for an opening. He seemed to be having trouble focussing on two weapons at once, and eventually he aimed too high. I grabbed his wrist and flung him over my head, sending him crashing into the wall. I leapt on him before he could stand, grabbing his head and sinking my teeth into his neck again. He shouted and tried to stab me again, but I swiftly turned his head. With a loud crack, he stopped moving entirely. I took in a long breath and sat up, wiping the blood off my chin. Then I looked at the two girls. The Bosmer had hesitantly raised her head and was squinting in my direction. The Nerevarine still lay unmoving. Clearing my throat, I stood and began to move towards them.

“Those guys went down like a sack of potatoes. There’s no quality in these paid killers anymore. Real sad. Anyway! Wood elf girl, you got two legs, come on, use them. Up.”
The Bosmer blinked. “You’re not the birthday boy, are you?”
“Aw, you remember me! But seriously, we gotta get out of here. And as for you, milady, lemme get you out of that shit mound.” I put one arm under the Dunmer’s knees and the other under her shoulders and lifted. No small feat, considering she had on all that armour. I looked into her face. “Oh hey, you’re that Nerevarine! Listen, I know this is a weird time, but can I have your autograph?”