The Rightous Assassin, An Elder Scrolls Fan-Fiction Options

[Zalphon]

Prologue

My name is Quick-Strike. I have done things so horrible, they haunt my dreams every night. The worst of which being when the Dark Brotherhood ordered me to kill the entire Matius family. The only survivor was Savilian Matius, but I killed his little girl and his wife. That poor little girl, she still haunts my dreams. It was her fifth birthday...

That day was the day I began my revolution. I had cut all ties I had with the Brotherhood and began my career as an assassin of the Nine. Hunting down daedric worshippers, criminals, and street-thugs. With a prayer in the Temple of Mara, I firmly gripped my steel shortsword and steel dagger and donned my black-leather uniform.

Suddenly behind me appeared a tall, black-haired orc. "You killed Marza Gra-Baliz," he hissed. "That was my daughter, you pig. For this you'll die."

With haste, I put my weapons in their scabbards and kicked him in the chest. "Please, I don't want to fight," I pleaded. "I seek no trouble." In his orcish rage he charged. My fist went flying into his face and he fell to the ground, his nose bloodied and he was unconscious.

I bent down and felt for a pulse. There was none. Suddenly, two imperial legion troopers came over to me. "Hey, what have you done to this man?" they asked. "He's dead!"

The other hissed, "You're under arrest, Swamp-Slime."

I slammed their heads together and bolted past them. "Joy," I thought. "My first day of being a noble person and I already killed a man and assaulted two guards." Blood was on my hands, so I wiped it on my outfit.

The streets of the Imperial City were crowded and I had to wade through the people. I was a wanted man and I needed to get out of town. As I turned to look around, a club hit my skull. The last thing I saw was an Imperial Legion Guard with a smile on his face. The last thing I heard was, "Enjoy your time in prison, Murkscum..."

After that I faded into the realm of unconsciousness.

[Zalphon]

Chapter Three: Blood and Tears

I slashed at the Bosmer, who parried. "I'll kill you," he hissed. His eyes were like two burning coals. He fought with such finesse and talent, I thought he wasn't a thief, but a well-trained veteran of the Imperial Legion. In return, he thrusted at me, but dextrously I dodged.

"Please surrender," I pleaded as I stabbed at him. Then I noticed it. My shortsword was in his stomach. He fell to the ground and a pool of blood surrounded him. The red, semi-viscous fluid brought a tear to my eye.

He pulled me near and whispered, "I didn't want to..." Those were his last words. The high-pitched voice of the Bosmeri Thief was extinguished. Forever. Out of a run-down shack came a small Bosmer female.

"Daddy," she cried out as her arms clasped onto the corpse. "Why?"

Korvan appeared behind me and whispered, "'Twas not your fault, young Quick-Strike. He threatened your life and you replied justly. Just remember this, your actions affect more people than just you and the other person. This little girl just lost her father and her life will be forever changed..."

"Korvan?" I questioned. "Is this another of your many teachings?"

"One of them," he sighed. "If I taught you all the knowledge I had, your body would be carrion long ago due to old age."

The little girl looked at me and wimpered, "Y-Y-you killed my father. I'll never forgive you, Murk-Slime." With extreme agility, she stabbed me in the arm with her parent's blade. Due to the extreme guilt I felt, I walked away...