User:Vanguard/Fanfiction/EbSnowScaleDraft

= A Snowscale in Cyrodiil =

I gave a sigh at my situation. My entire arms were chained because they knew I'd pull some martial art shit on them if they as much give me an inch of mobility. I just need to train in some legwork. Unfortunately, I was bound completely, my arms stuck on my back. I couldn't move them at all. I had two Imperial guards behind me, armored to the teeth, more so than the usual uniforms. There was a captain in front of me as well, he was leading me towards the Arena to make use of the deal he gave me. They didn't believe me story that I escaped with the Emperor and witnessed his assassination. I suppose that pardon was unofficial since the only two people that heard it were the Emperor and me. And clearly, one of us is dead. It didn't help that I buried the amulet because I saw this coming. Oblivion will wait, I suppose.

Anyway, the deal was that I would fight in the arena to earn an actual pardon. He wouldn't take anything less than Grand Champion. No pressure. I remember them shoving me into the bloodworks,  "Go on, Murderer. Fight to the death," the captain said, and he cackled maniacally soon afterword. Murderer, that's what they call me. Which is funny since I didn't actually kill anyone, even though I could have. I was a monk, y'see. I know, a bit odd for an Argonian. But it was my passion. I liked reading, and it was a quiet atmosphere and I never did enjoy the strange looks I got for having pure white scales. A snowscale, to be accurate. Which is also funny since I can still get really damn cold. I s'pose it was just descriptive. Anyway, the monks never looked at me funny because they were either blind or blindfolded. I never studied the actual Elder Scrolls for me to get to that point, it was mostly custodial, which suited me fine. I was called a monk anyway. Something deep in my blood woke up, though. I'm not sure if it's a snowscale thing, or I'm just a natural raving bitch. I was with another custodian-like monk, not a blind one. We were in the library and I had a certain way of organizing. He had another. We got into an argument and he raged first, knocking over the entire case. At first I kept my scales cool, but he raged further. The blind monks heard all this and many of them flooded in the Library. Eventually he threw fists and, even though I had never been in a fight before, it came to my attention that I'm pretty damn strong. The jackass went down in a couple hits, you could almost hear his facebones crack when he fell on the floor. Well, they heard that too and proceeded to claim I'm the enemy. I fought through them all, even the swordsman they have in there for some reason. Even with their isolation, it was reported. I was arrested for an extreme amount of attempt-at-murder, which for some reason equals "Murder" in the minds of civilians and guards alike. Whatever, I'll deal with it.

Eventually, I made it to this Arena-deal thing. I half expected them to toss me in prison as soon as I was done so I figured, might as well.

They didn't unchain me until they had me in the Arena ring. They proceeded to flee in fear. They still left the wrist irons on me though, the bastards. But they weren't chained so, for a while, I was free. I proceeded to show maybe a hundred city-goers why exactly I was a criminal to begin with. I beat so many of the yellow team bloody, and was forced to kill... Well, all them, actually. That doesn't help my reputation but it's what I had to do. It got difficult when I faced this ex-Blades hero. I had nothing to block with but my arms, and it hurt. It hurt a lot. Fortunately I got in close quarters, and grabbed his shield with a death grip, effectively locking him in position. He butted me with the hilt of his sword a few times but we Argonians are tougher than that, scales act as a natural light armor. Still gave me a headache. Anyway, I ripped his shield from him and tossed it way the hell away, giving him nothing to block my fists with. I could see the scare in his eyes so I proceeded to beat him to death. That was a nice sword. Then there were the two matches when it was three on one. Boy, that was fun. I never liked killing my own kind either, but hey. It's me or them. And I like me. In a final battle that was akin to the Bladesman, I earned my Grand Champion and the entire audience knew I was to be free. The cheers were quiter, many of them were hushed to the fact that a Criminal such as myself would be let free.  I saw the captain and his two escorts comes from the Bloodworks. He had the most evil grin I had ever seen and I knew, I was not to be free. He had the armbraces in his hands again. I hate those things. But I was to be free, so I knocked his ass out. The guards drew their swords but they should have known better. I disarmed or dis...shielded... them? Either way, they'd feel my mark for weeks. I escaped and fled into the forests outside the Imperial City.

Am I free? Or am I, yet again, a fugitive? Most of the city witnessed my victory and knew of the proper deal. Slaves are let free all the time in a similar manner. Why not a criminal? I earned it, damnit! Be that as it may, I find myself circling and exploring all around it. I had to use my silver tongue to get an armorer in Bravil to remove my irons and convince them that it was a mistake, which wasn't much of a lie anyway. From there, I went all over. Exploring, hunting. Avoiding the roads and living like a damn vagabond. But...

Everywhere I go I see the haunting Tower of what should have given my freedom. Every time I see it, my heart cringes. All I can do now is avoid it.

Trivia
She hasn't mentioned her own name because she doesn't speak about herself in third-person, like some Argonians and even Khajiit do.