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After Oblivion: Adventures of a Dark Elf	By : Syentaru Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Oblivion Views: 13978 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Elder Scrolls series. All rights and credit goes to Bethesda. I make no money from this fanfiction, this is purely for entertainment. Please rate and comment, and critiquing is encouraged!

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She finished her paperwork right on time, and had the rest of her day free to check on her guild mates in the city, or stir up some trouble if she felt the desire. She left Dareloth’s Garden, heading towards the center of the Waterfront District. She could don the Gray Fox’s old cowl, that always brought the guards running. She never knew how they could almost psychically tell when she put it on, but they did, and would find her even if she was away from the city. She passed a few guards whose shifts were just ending for the day, making their way to the Waterfront’s guard tower. She had no commissions to take, and she usually didn’t take to petty thieving. She felt the need to blow off some steam, however, so she went to the Arena, where she was the Grand Champion. She didn’t fight regular matches anymore, only creatures brought in from the wild, monsters that would kill unwary travelers if left to roam the hillside.
            She checked her weapons to make sure they were in top condition. She had her daggers, one on each of her hips, another in a boot sheath, then there was her sword, her primary weapon for most encounters. She was good with magic, but her ability to create illusions and trick the mind were her most frequently used talents. She enjoyed creating grand explosions and using fire to ward off her foes, but she solved most conflicts by silently and discreetly slipping away.
            When she arrived at the large coliseum, the Matron greeted her congenially enough, telling her that they had a minotaur for her to fight, a giant with a hammer, ready to smite the first humanoid it saw. Just one? she thought idly as she tightened her armor straps. She had taken her leather armor for this fight, knowing that she could move more easily in it. She walked up the wide, spiraling steps towards the arena grounds, hoping that this beast wasn’t as fast as the troll she had fought the other week.
            When she arrived at the top, she looked across the expanse of packed earth to see a lone minotaur standing ready to fight behind the other gate. She could hear the announcer, pumping the crowd’s energy for the battle to come. It wasn’t too often that she made time to fight at the popular venue anymore, but when she did make an appearance, it always drew a large audience. Her title was announced, and the massive roar that followed drowned out her thoughts as the crowd was on its feet, cheering her onward as the gates were lowered.
            She moved forward swiftly, her daggers already in her hands. The minotaur moved slowly, much more cautiously than was typical for his kind. The dark elf shook the odd feeling that arose in her as she glanced up into its eyes. It looked….sad. She knew that couldn’t be right. Minotaurs killed, that was all, they ate, they slept, they mated, and they killed, like any other animal.
            Her thoughts were interrupted as it swung, handling the large glass hammer as if it weighed nothing. The weapon sliced through empty space where her head had been, and she was up in an instant, rolling to her feet and coming to stand at its side, her right dagger biting deep. She was already leaping away as it tried to retaliate, attempting to knock her off her feet by heaving towards her with its massive shoulders. She could hear the fans cheering as she back flipped away from it, landing gracefully and sidestepping another hammer swing.
            It was faster than she had anticipated, but she was quicker still, and darted in towards the beast again, using quick slices to drain the monster’s strength. She could feel his anger mounting, as the swinging became more erratic. He struck a lucky blow, when she made to feint another assault, and he caught her as she tried to duck away, hitting her in the shoulder with the massive object. She screamed and fell back, clutching her arm, already casting a healing spell on herself as she backed away. The odd feeling from earlier resurfaced as she once again stole a glance into the minotaur’s eyes, thinking she saw pity there as her heal spell came into effect, ending the pain almost immediately. The look was gone, however, when it brought the hammer down again. Gwen was ready this time, and had unsheathed her sword, using it to block the fearsome weapon.
            The beast staggered and backed away from her, and Gwen attempted to end the battle, driving her sword home, but was blocked as the large creature used one of its horns to deflect the blade, dropping his weapon entirely. The Champion gasped as the minotaur came charging at her, horns down. She was so surprised by this new form of attack, that she was too slow in her dodge, getting caught between the monster’s horns and pinned against the walls of the arena, between two deadly spikes.
            For the first time in Gwen’s recent memory as Arena Grand Champion, she felt afraid for her life. Trapped on both sides by four foot long spikes and holding on to minotaur horns to keep herself from falling on the smaller spikes below her, she fought desperately for a way to escape. She tried to get some leverage, to climb up through the large protrusions that she was gripping tightly, but she couldn’t manage to raise herself up with the spikes so close to her shoulders. She was bracing her legs on the beast’s head, digging her boots into its face to keep it from thrashing her into the spikes or the hard wall behind her.
            The crowd was going wild, as they had never seen any Champion in such a predicament. Gwen tried again and again to dislodge herself from the perilous position, with no luck, as the minotaur seemed content on holding her in place. She would have to twist herself up through the tight area just above her and leap away from it, and hoped to run it through when she regained her footing and it made to charge her again. She put her plan into action, thrusting herself upwards while twisting her torso, but the beast grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back down and pinning her against the wall, holding her just at eye level.
            Gwen stared into the face of a creature that usually held eyes so black they looked like soulless pits, inspiring fear in many an adventurer. What she saw reflecting her own image were indeed eyes black as night, but they held an unmistakable intelligence. She gasped as it blinked at her for a moment, then made an odd sound. For a moment she thought she was losing her mind in the panic she felt as she struggled to loosen its tight grip around her midsection, but then it made the noise again, and she knew she was not going mad.
            “Why, dunmer?” It was speaking to her, imploring her in a deep, gravelly, almost unintelligible voice, but she understood what it said. Her surprise only lasted a moment, and she had finally snagged the extra dagger she kept in her left boot and took a swipe at the arms that were holding her. It back away from the wall and let go, and she dropped to the ground, hitting the packed dirt hard and could feel as the crowd buzzed with ever growing energy now that she was free again.
            She made a few more attempts to swing at it, making it look like she was putting all of her effort into it. The beast seemed to have lost the fervor it had earlier, half heartedly blocking her minor jabs and slices with the re-equipped hammer. He seemed disheartened that she had not spoken back. Gwen moved in as close as she dared and they began circling each other, the young woman maintaining eye contact as she sought for the proper words for such an encounter. This was the first minotaur she had ever heard of that could speak.
            “What are you?” was all she could think of, and the creature blinked at her whispered query, blocking her swing as she playfully attacked. She wasn’t trying to kill him anymore, and he knew it, so he maintained the steady circling position, letting her keep the crowd on its feet, thinking the match would be over soon.
            “I’m Minotaur,” he said plainly. “I don’t want killing. I don’t want death, either,” he said. He was thrilled that the dunmer woman was actually listening to him. He knew he should have never come down from the mountains.
            “Sorry, Minotaur, but that’s the rules. Killing or death are the only ways out of this arena, I’m afraid,” she whispered sadly, feeling her arm jar from blocking the head of the hammer with her recovered sword. “Unless you can fake death,” she said idly, swinging her enchanted blade at him and watching as the hammer’s handle temporarily caught fire.
            “Fake? You mean pretend death? I can play dead,” he responded, heaving the weapon at her with a grace so effortless it was breathtaking to watch.
            “I will have to stab you though, in the right spot, and you can play dead. The officials never thoroughly check the bodies of….animals,” she said sourly, for lack of a better term. They did check for a heartbeat, but hopefully this half man, half bull knew how to slow his pulse and breathing. And she could always swing things her way with a little illusion.
            The beast snorted angrily at her, forcing her to block a barrage of heavy swings that left her arms aching, but he acquiesced in the end. “Do it right, dunmer, or my tribe will hunt you,” was all he said before leaving himself wide open as he raised his hammer high above his head.
            Gwen saw her opportunity and drove her blade home, hitting between all of the necessary organs. Minotaurs were known to be hearty creatures at any rate, but hopefully this act would fool the crowd into thinking she had won the match. She watched as he let out a wretched scream and fell to his knees, his torso catching flame and burning a bit before he fell backwards, his eyes closing as his back hit the dirt, his mighty hammer landing harmlessly beside him.
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After Oblivion: Adventures of a Dark Elf