Comments on the pics and/or writing is welcome.
Robbing the Thieves
He stood on the ramparts of the fort, still as the shadows that engulfed him. For hours, he had been following them, observing their movement. Six bandits who had made their most successful haul yet on a wealthy trading caravan. The goods they had on hand were valuable, but hot, and chances were likely news of the heist would spread across Colovia before the week was over. Chances were likely that by that point, a dispatch would be sent by the legion or Fighters? Guild, or they would get across the border and divide the plunder.
Well, that may have been the plan for they and them, but Cyrus (or Syreys as he liked to be called, if only to avoid questions) had other plans, to take a slice of the treasure himself. Somewhere around one hundred percent.
On the move for hours, and in the darkest hour of night, the marauders finally took shelter in an abandoned fort. These places were notorious for being haunted, so it was only natural that several would go in to clear the place out before settling in. What Cyrus didn?t expect was that they left the goods outside only guarded by one.
Makes things easier, he thought, taking aim. She was a sitting duck, and never once detected his presence, despite whatever enhanced senses he was sure Argonians possessed. An arrow through the head silenced her in an instant. Dropping his bow and letting down his hood, he swiftly made his way down the tower.
Approaching the chest and pulling out a trusty lockpick, Cyrus began setting about his work. Looks like I?ve got pay dirt! he thought gleefully.
?Hey! We?ve got an interloper here!? a voice suddenly boomed behind him.
?Damn! Quicker than I thought!? he cursed, drawing his sword and darting around. He slew the Orc, a mere breath away, with one slash, but took no time relishing the victory. The other four were out, charging in from every angle. Surrounded and backed in a corner, Cyrus took his only option and stood his ground.
The bandits closed the distance in seconds, their blades ready and shining in the firelight, hungry for Dark Elf blood. They swung, they fell, they charged, just as Cyrus-
-Dodged forward in a flash!
The marauders, wasting no time in checking on their fallen comrades, turned around to pursue the thief, but found nothing. Confused, they split up and rounded the fort, searching vigilantly.
?Damn it! Where did he go?!?
?Cowardly bastard ran away. Must?ve vanished into the night.?
Cyrus, who had not gone far, though, scoffed at this. ?Vanished into?? he whispered to himself. ?I am the night!?
Clanging of steel, ripping of flesh, cries of battle, and screams of pain reached the ears of the others. They followed the sound hoping that the quarry had been hauled. Instead they found their comrades lying cold in the ground.
The Nord cursed. ?Damn it! Who is this guy?? His female companion, looking around, only whispered, ?More like where is he??
They had no time to react. No time to fight back. The Nord felt his legs give way before feeling the cold chill of Sovngarde call him. The woman turned, an expression of shock and confusion, which was then forever frozen on her face.
With that done, Cyrus wiped his blade clean, sheathing it. "More violence than I prefer," he sighed, stalking back to the chest. "But at least I've got the haul for myself."
It was fairly impressive, full of many high quality goods. "Nothing I really need, but will fetch a very pretty drake in the right hands." Cyrus let out a whistle, calling upon his horse, the dread steed Shadowmere, kept hidden in the distant foliage. Loading the booty upon the mare, he set out in the direction of Skingraad. Hope I can catch a late night meal at the Two Sisters.
Edited by Xetirox, 23 May 2007 - 12:13 AM.
