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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!

Chapter List
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Gwen shot down the alley like the fastest Cheydenhall stallion, hoping to be gone before the nord wished to question her more. She didn’t want to admit that he had been one of the best she had ever had, when it came to hard fucking, and the gentle, heartfelt kiss had been icing on the cake for her. She was a happy single woman, she didn’t wish to tie herself to anyone yet.
      Gwen made sure to double back around to drop off the cup where she found it, using a chameleon spell to hide her movements. When she arrived back at Dareloth’s House to take care of the usual paperwork and reports, she felt more exhausted from a morning orgasm than usual. Sex didn’t normally wear her out, in fact, she couldn’t remember ever feeling so completely sated. She didn’t even need her afternoon roll in the hay after her work was finished. Maybe she should try nords more often, she thought, a mischievous smile lighting her face. She finished all of her duties that afternoon, and by two o’clock had the rest of the day free. Not one to sit idly on such a beautiful day, she decided to take a walk through the Elven Gardens, to see if she could hear any good rumors or news floating about the Imperial City.
      She saw Laurian upon her arrival through the gates of the aptly named residential district, chatting politely with a guard, trying to win him over for more information. She could see traces of a charm spell placed on him, and aware of how good the breton was with magic, he would tell her anything she wanted to know.
      Satisfied that the young woman could handle her own case, she walked through the gardens, stopping by a well to gaze at the beautiful flowers around her. She was so caught up in the peaceful feeling the Gardens brought to her, that she did not notice the man running around the corner, only glancing up in his direction when he screamed vitriolic at her.
      “You blasted dunmer bitch!” he yelled, wielding a small mace that he must have picked up off a guard while breaking out of the prison she had put him in not a month before. She instantly recognized him as former legion commander Gerome Rolphos, a corrupt man who extorted the merchants, controlling the men under him with an iron fist. He wore the tattered sack clothing of a common prisoner, but she knew his face.
She side-stepped his swing just in time, feeling the air rush past her face from his near hit. She was not ready for the small dagger he produced, however, and felt it bite deep into her arm as he flailed wildly at her with the sharp object. She cursed and stepped back, healing herself a little and feeling the pain start to ease, then unsheathed her own dagger.
      She heard the shouts of oncoming Imperial Guardsmen, men who would only see a crazed escapee attempting to hurt a civilian. There was nothing wrong with defending herself in the meantime. After all, she was the one who had brought him to justice in the first place.
      She blocked his next blow with her glass dagger, enchanted with lightning so that he received a sizeable shock upon striking her weapon. He backed off, and surprising her once again, produced a scroll he had kept tucked into his shoe, probably stolen from the evidence chest as he made his escape from the prison, shooting a large fire ball straight for her.
      She felt the impact of the flames, then thanked the fates as her dunmer resistance, as well as the charms placed on her clothes, kept the fire from doing any real damage to her. The only part that injured her was the force of the flames knocking her into the wall near the well she had been standing by. Her breath left her in an instant, and she looked up as the man approached her, a smug, ugly grin lighting his greasy visage.
      “You shall pay for your crimes now, dark elf. You shall all pay!” he screamed maniacally, and moved to finish her off with the iron dagger.
      She had a flare spell ready, but just before she cast it to defend herself, Rolphos dropped his dagger, a look of shock on his face as he fell next to her, two arrows protruding from his back. The next thing she saw were three guardsmen, all with bows drawn, only one still cocking an arrow to the string. She was surprised once more as she recognized each one. The first man in to the garden patch was the soldier Laurian had been charming only moments before, the effects of the spell gone now. The second was the soldier she had fucked the previous day, but his face held no recollection as he looked down upon her, asking if she was alright. The third, and the one who still had an arrow ready to fire, was none other than the Nord she had become intimately acquainted with just that morning. He had a flicker of emotion cross his face as he gazed upon her for a moment, but it was gone in a flash, and he checked the body with the first guard, confirming his death.
      “These are still dangerous times, even with the Oblivion crisis past us, dunmer,” the Nord said seriously. “But wait, you’re—”
      “She’s the Champion of Cyrodiil, that’s who she is,” the first guard declared, cutting the Nord off completely. “Hey, you’re the one who took care of this lout the first time, aren’t you? Sorry we didn’t catch up to him sooner. It’s an honor to meet you though,” he said, holding his hand out to her, very uncommon behavior for a member of the Imperial Legion.
      “Yes, well, thank you all. I’m sure you have your other prisoners in hand,” she said, looking each of them in the eye.
      “Oh yes, of course,” the second man said, all of them looking sheepishly at the ground.
      “Well, I’ll be on my way, I know you have to take care of matters here,” she said, dismissing herself from their presence. She only took the life of her enemies if absolutely necessary, which was why Rolphos had been alive to attack her once again. She never thought he would be one to escape from the Imperial Prison, but she had done so once herself, with members of the Blades no less, so stranger things had happened, she supposed.
      With the three men taking care of business behind her, she went to find Laurian, the adrenaline still running through her veins, making her feel like a nice mission was in order to relieve the stress of the day.
She found the young woman at the pub, chatting amiably with a few guards for the Seval Mansion. They were laughing over drinks as Gwen sat down next to them, ordering a round for the entire group, and they allowed her in to their conversation.
      “So I was saying to Livvy here,” the body guard motioned towards Laurian, “that we had a break in a couple nights back. But we didn’t even see the culprit. So I asked the boss how he knew, and he tells me, and get this, he has a special charm,” the man burst out laughing, nearly falling off his chair he was so drunk. His friend, who was still mostly sober, smacked him on the head before righting him, telling him to shut up and finish his pint.
      “We need to be leaving, Bromlin, Master Seval doesn’t like us to be gone long, ‘specially to the pub,” he finished, looking suspiciously at the two women.
      “Ah, Renton, that old wind-bag, half-mage can take his rules and cram ‘em—” Bromlin began to rant before being dragged from his bar stool by the larger, more aggressive redguard.
      “We don’t talk about him in public. Now, let’s go, before we draw attention,” Renton glared at the Imperial he held in his arms, noticing that he already had half the bar staring at him. “Come on, we’re out of here. Thanks for the drinks, Champion,” he said, sarcasm and insult coating Gwen’s rightfully earned title. He then added to his imperial friend, “Champion my ass, fucking dark elf.” It was low but Gwen heard it.
      The dark elf bristled but remained in her seat. “We hit them tonight. Hard,” was all she said to the breton simmering next to her. Laurian nodded, then rose to join her guild leader as they walked towards the exit.
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After Oblivion: Adventures of a Dark Elf