The Story of the Listener, My first fanfic. Options

[Kayla]

Ok. This is my first fanfic. I'm a tad nervous about it, but I'd like to see what everyone thinks.
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I sat quietly on a bench beside the pawnshop on the docks of Anvil, staring out over the dark Abecean Sea. Through the clouds in the sky, I could see that the sun was setting. A chilly wind blew my black robes and hood as though they were weightless, but the persistent breeze was unsuccessful in penetrating the black light armor I wore underneath my robes. I listened to the fragmented conversations of the dock workers, and watched as people hastily walked by, fearing that it would soon begin to storm.

Before I knew it, the sun had set completely. The Nord who owned the shop I was sitting in front of walked outside. He locked up his shop and began to make his way down the stone street toward the resident area of Anvil. He hadn’t even noticed that I’d been sitting just feet away from him. I heard the Nord loudly greet someone before he walked completely out of earshot. Soon after, an Orc walked by. I studied the Orc carefully as he passed. He walked with a slight limp and had a large scar on his left arm, and just as I expected, he opened the door to the dockside warehouse and went inside.

It was completely dark now. Neither sun nor moon shone through the twisting clouds in the sky. The wind picked up, carrying moisture in it.

I stood and made my way to the back door of the warehouse. I picked the lock and the door swung open. Quickly I slipped into the thick darkness inside. The warehouse was fairly big but, a few candles on a large table in the middle of the room revealed the Orc’s position. He was busily unpacking things from crates and setting them on shelves. He was completely unaware of my presence, and I preferred it that way. I slipped through the shadows toward him. In the darkness I felt strong, invincible, and incapable of fear. I observed his movements, the way his body flowed with each contraction and relaxation of each muscle. I watched every joint in his body, paying close attention to his spinal cord. The Orc was old, and moved as though he’d been doing hard labor his entire life. Almost every movement looked as though it pained him.

As soon as I was sure of his reactions, I silently unsheathed my ebony blade, a gift from a dear friend, and I closed in on the Orc. He was still unaware of my being there, even though I was soon right behind him, almost breathing down his neck. In one quick motion, I lunged out of the shadows, grabbed the Orc with my right arm, wrapping it around the front of his neck and shoulders, then I brought my left hand up and stabbed him right in the jugular vein. The poor old Orc didn’t even have a chance to yell. I let go of the body letting it fall limply onto the wooden floor of the warehouse. I waited for his gurgled breathing to stop, then I snuffed the candles out and exited the warehouse the same way I’d come in.

(Expect updates!)

[Kayla]

I am proud to announce that this story has made it past 50 pages in Microsoft Word! (54 right now to be exact)
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A Dunmer male and Altmer female stood in the doorway, wearing netch leather armor, and holding writs of execution.
“Uh-oh…” I thought, staring them down.

The Altmer stepped forward.
“Breton! Imperial! You have been marked for execution by the Morag Tong for the murder of Lord Vivec! We are here to make sure you die!” she yelled, her high pitched voice straining my remaining nerves.
That was definitely the wrong thing to say in the middle of a Temple devoted to the worship of the now dead Tribunal. In the room outside, I could hear gasps, and rapid footsteps. I looked at Saprius.
“We have to get out of here. Now.” I said.

The two assassins brandished silver daggers and leapt toward us. I could feel some of my old wounds tightening and straining as I easily dodged them and made for the door. Saprius, unlike me, wasn’t born under the sign of the The Theif, and therefore wasn’t blessed with extra agility. He found himself cornered by the assassins.
“Sarelle!!” he yelled, pressing his back against the wall.
The Temple priests were beginning to surround the room we were in, yelling death threats, calling the ordinators, some even starting to conjure daedra.
The assassins were closing in quickly on Saprius.
“Damn it!”

I ran back toward the assassins, unsheathing my Blade of Woe and burying it in the Altmer’s spine. She let out a cry of pain and fell to the floor. I grabbed Saprius’ arm and we ran toward the crowd of priests.
“We’re going to have to cut through them…” I realized.

My boots pounding against the stone floor, I threw a powerful flame spell into the crowd. The priests scattered, and shrieks of pain, and the roar of flames filled the air. Still clutching Saprius’ arm, we practically flew up the stairs, back into the main room of the Temple.

I didn’t expect the Morag Tong to locate us again so quickly. They must have had all their forces focused on us. Escaping Vvardenfell was going to be much harder than I had anticipated.

Just as we burst through the front door of the Temple, and out into the open canton, we ran right past a group of ordinators. To my dismay, I looked back to see the Dunmer assassin right on our heels.
”After them! They’re the ones that killed Lord Vivec!” he yelled.

Behind us, I could hear the sounds of clanging metal, and angry yelling. My arms and legs pumped quickly. I could barely feel the stone under my feet as I ran. As we made our way down the canton, I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

We made it to the final level of the canton. A lot of ordinators were still behind us. Ahead of us lay the vast Ashlands.

As we ran across the ashy earth, grey ash and dust flew up in front of my face. Behind us, the ordinators had stopped pursuing us, probably figuring we would die out here anyway. The only one still on our trail was the Dunmer assassin.

Tired of running, I stopped, turning around and drawing my sword. As he neared me, he brought his dagger back in an attempt at a horizontal slash. I stepped out of the way and tripped him. Saprius immediately pulled his claymore over his shoulder from its sheath, and brought it down on the back of the Dunmer’s neck, decapitating him.

Still standing, and breathing heavily, I slumped down resting my arms on my knees. Saprius looked around. There was nothing but grey ash surrounding us.
“Do you have any idea where we are?” he asked.
I shook my head, watching the blood flow from the Dunmer’s neck, mixing with the ash. How did the Morag Tong find us? When were we going to see them again?
“I would imagine that we’re north of Molag Mar.” I guessed. “We can’t return to Molag Mar. We should try to head east to Azura’s Coast.” I said.
Turning east, Saprius and I began to walk across the grey earth.