Disclaimer: The following short story contains detailed descriptions of a gory massacre. Read at your own risk.
The Shao’kai: Wanted
Skyrim. Whiterun. The Drunken Huntsman at dawn. Aside from Elrindir, cooking beef stew at the fireplace, and a shady female Altmer, sharpening her Akaviri blade seated at the nearby table, the tavern is empty. The woman’s attention is focused on her chore. There’s a still silence in the air, but it doesn’t last long. In a moment’s notice the door is slammed open and five Thalmor agents step inside. The elf standing in front of the group, a Justiciar, nods towards Elrindir. One of the soldiers grabs the tavern keeper and throws him outside, locking the door afterwards and ripping off the handles. The soldiers then scatter: two remain guard at the door, one takes a seat at the counter – directly in front of them – and the last takes a stance near the cauldron of stew, facing the undisturbed woman. The Justiciar slowly walks by the fireplace – towards the nearby table, pulls a chair and sits down. He draws a wanted poster from his robes and throws it on the table.
“Anonynous tip said we’d find you in this rathole, fugitive.” he said, yet the woman continued sharpening her blade without even giving him a look. “50.000 Septims is a lot of gold and the Dominion doesn’t care if we bring you in dead or alive.” Still no reaction from her. “Between you and me, there’s only one of us getting out of here breathing and it won’t be you.”
She smiles and looks him in the eye:
“Big talk for a crippled elf locked up in here with me.”
A split second later she impales the Jusiciar’s leg with her blade, causing him to scream in agonizing pain. The closest two soldiers react too slow as she throws a concealed steel bolt aimed at the one by the counter and punches the other by the fireplace in the guts. The bolt moves swift through the air and as soon as it punctures its target’s chest, it explodes in a fiery mess of flesh and blood – knocking the door guards off their feet. Back at the fireplace, the woman throws a right uppertcut in her opponent’s face, grabs him by the backhead with her left hand and sinks his face in the boiling stew. The soldier’s body shivers with pain as his attacker retrieves her blade from the Justiciar’s leg in a single move and decapitates him, dropping the head in the cauldron. The woman now focuses her attention on the two door guards charging at her with raised swords. She dashes the first one going to her left, partially ducking and at the same time driving her sword with grace through his knees, then directing it on an upward asymptotic trajectory slicing the right arm. As her forearms reach a point above her head, she regains momentum, turns her blade 180 degrees horizontally with a wrists twist and drives it through the left arm, leaving the soldier completely limbless. With a staggering blow, she deflects the other door guard’s sword, giving her an opening and impales his heart. She then hits him in the chest with a kick powerful enough to send him flying backwards through the door. Shaking the blood off her blade with a single move, the elf takes her old seat at the table, facing the horrified crippled Justiciar:
“Who do you think gave you that tip?" - 'pause' - "Listen up carefully.” – she said as she grabbed his right arm and broke it. The Justiciar screamed in pain yet again. “You’re going to limp back to the embassy and tell Elenwen everything that happened here. You tell her, I’m coming for you all.”
Before knocking him out with a punch the Justiciar managed to shout in horror:
“What are you?!?!”
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