Sometimes, she really wondered how she got herself into things like this. This was most certainly one of those times. Mais swallowed hard and tried to force herself to step through the false back in the wardrobe. The thought of the woman's body, torn open and nearly ripped apart, was all that was keeping her going that night. The smell of blood made her stomach turn, and the sight of body parts arraigned in a gruesome display did not make it any easier. She took a deep breath through her mouth and wished her legs to move movemovemovemove! One foot in front of the other, she inched through the wardrobe into the hidden room. She tried not to think too much about where those body parts had come from as she moved closer to the alter. She wasn't a warrior. What made her think that she could do this?
Again, the thought of the dead woman came to her mind. Who else would stop this if she didn't? How long until another woman was killed? How long until it was Mais herself? Or one of her sisters? The image of her sweet little sister torn open, her blonde hair stained with blood urged her farther into the room. She and her two sisters were orphans, no one would care if one of them were killed by this murderer. The only thing that kept them from being sent to Honorhall was that Mais was an adult, and capable of caring for her sisters. They were all half bloods, half bosmer and half human. Most likely Breton, but Mais didn't know, she'd never known her parents. No one would even notice if they were gone.
Her foot nudged a bone and it skittered loudly on the stone floor, startling her from her thoughts. She looked around the room , eyeing a bookshelf on one wall that held embalming tools and knives. The kind that were used to kill the latest victim. The alter over the fireplace was difficult for her to even look at, but something caught her eye, something other than the gruesome red and white of bone and flesh. She reached out and managed to daintily pick up the string of an amulet without getting any gore on her hands. It was like nothing she'd ever seen, black with some kind of green, carved stone at the center.
She was more than ready to get out of that room, and maybe that necklace would get her one step closer to stopping this murderer. She tucked it away in the pouch on her belt, and carefully made her way out of the room, pulling the hem of her skirt up over her ankles. Her dress was old and worn, but she didn't want to get such vile things on it anyway.
Out on the street outside the abandoned Hjerim, Mais shivered. The nights were getting to be bitterly cold. She hated this time of year. It felt like she was never warm, like she spent the entire winter shivering. She considered going back to her modest house in the Grey Quarter to check on her sisters quickly, but thought it may be better to speak to Jorleif about the murders. The sooner all this business was over, the better. The girls would be sleeping anyway.
Tucking her cold hands into the folds of her skirt, she headed toward the Palace of Kings. Several guards stop to watch her as she walked past. She hated the way they looked at her. Like she wasn't worth the air she breathed. She looked more human than elf, but the guards knew anyway. They saw the way her pointed ears peeked out from her hair, noticed how lithe and small she was, noted the faint olive tone to her skin. Several of them moved closer to her as she approached the palace. They eyed her mistrustfully, but didn't stop her when she entered.
The hall was warm as she closed the door behind her. The rich smell of wood smoke from fire was a welcome change to the cold, brisk smell of snow. The hall was empty except for the two guards stationed near the door that were both watching her openly. Mais stepped farther in slowly. There were two doorways on either side of the doorway, and she thought she heard movement in the one to her right. Hoping it was the steward, she went over to it. She was already standing in the doorway by the time she realized her mistake.
Ice and Snow 1/?
Again, the thought of the dead woman came to her mind. Who else would stop this if she didn't? How long until another woman was killed? How long until it was Mais herself? Or one of her sisters? The image of her sweet little sister torn open, her blonde hair stained with blood urged her farther into the room. She and her two sisters were orphans, no one would care if one of them were killed by this murderer. The only thing that kept them from being sent to Honorhall was that Mais was an adult, and capable of caring for her sisters. They were all half bloods, half bosmer and half human. Most likely Breton, but Mais didn't know, she'd never known her parents. No one would even notice if they were gone.
Her foot nudged a bone and it skittered loudly on the stone floor, startling her from her thoughts. She looked around the room , eyeing a bookshelf on one wall that held embalming tools and knives. The kind that were used to kill the latest victim. The alter over the fireplace was difficult for her to even look at, but something caught her eye, something other than the gruesome red and white of bone and flesh. She reached out and managed to daintily pick up the string of an amulet without getting any gore on her hands. It was like nothing she'd ever seen, black with some kind of green, carved stone at the center.
She was more than ready to get out of that room, and maybe that necklace would get her one step closer to stopping this murderer. She tucked it away in the pouch on her belt, and carefully made her way out of the room, pulling the hem of her skirt up over her ankles. Her dress was old and worn, but she didn't want to get such vile things on it anyway.
Out on the street outside the abandoned Hjerim, Mais shivered. The nights were getting to be bitterly cold. She hated this time of year. It felt like she was never warm, like she spent the entire winter shivering. She considered going back to her modest house in the Grey Quarter to check on her sisters quickly, but thought it may be better to speak to Jorleif about the murders. The sooner all this business was over, the better. The girls would be sleeping anyway.
Tucking her cold hands into the folds of her skirt, she headed toward the Palace of Kings. Several guards stop to watch her as she walked past. She hated the way they looked at her. Like she wasn't worth the air she breathed. She looked more human than elf, but the guards knew anyway. They saw the way her pointed ears peeked out from her hair, noticed how lithe and small she was, noted the faint olive tone to her skin. Several of them moved closer to her as she approached the palace. They eyed her mistrustfully, but didn't stop her when she entered.
The hall was warm as she closed the door behind her. The rich smell of wood smoke from fire was a welcome change to the cold, brisk smell of snow. The hall was empty except for the two guards stationed near the door that were both watching her openly. Mais stepped farther in slowly. There were two doorways on either side of the doorway, and she thought she heard movement in the one to her right. Hoping it was the steward, she went over to it. She was already standing in the doorway by the time she realized her mistake.