Chapter One: The Old Woman and the Cottage

I killed the old woman. I don’t know what made me do it; I still can’t understand it to this day. I suppose that this is where my tale starts; where my life gets interesting. Oh boy, does it get interesting. And I don’t generally mean that in a good way. You’ll see. I had been hunting up North, by the Nordic-fashioned city of Bruma, when I felt a presence nearby. I guess you could call it a sixth sense. I crouched down, bow in hand, and slowly crept over a small hill. When I reached the top, I saw a little cottage nestled in the mountains, with a patch of flat land serving as a single person farm. An old woman was there, working in the farm, raking down new rows for what looked like fresh potato plants.

How could I know then that this house would be the location of so much pain and misery in my future? Looking back, I wished that I had simply turned around and never glanced back. However, my instinctual curiosity, useful in so many aspects of my life, was my downfall here. I sat to watch the woman, mystified, as I hadn’t seen a human, elf, or beast race for nearly a week. I had become a rather solitary being, making my living off of the land, sleeping where I felt it was safe enough, whether it be cave or slab of rock.

Squinting against the setting sun, I saw the woman’s graying hair and wrinkling face, her movements obviously displaying the aching and grinding of her old bones. After a moment of her work, she straightened, shielding her eyes from the sun with a callused hand. She must have decided that it was enough for the day, as she collected her supplies and headed toward her thatched-roof cottage in the slow, shuffling, achy pace of the elderly.

I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but I suddenly had the overwhelming desire to kill the woman, to drive my dagger into her flesh. I felt a sudden…rage at her, such inexplicable anger that I needed to act upon. I’m not sure if my fury was against her, or against the world. But at that moment, all the feeling I had in me was focused on her. I have had such urges before, to strike, to kill, but always in public, surrounded by many. My impulses had always been controlled by necessity. Now, however, I was in the middle of nowhere. I guess that’s the reason I couldn’t stop myself.

And before I knew what was happening, everything around me became silent. Time seemed to slow as my senses were heightened. Her breathing was a slow, rhythmic rasping in my ears, and an eternity seemed to take place in the dull thudding of two of her footsteps. I started to feel faint as I tried to control the desire to stop the noise of her footsteps, to eternally end the sound of her breath. I was fighting a loosing battle. After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality were seconds, I had put my bow on my back and was reaching for my dagger.

The sound of my dagger sliding out of its sheath was intoxicating; it made my lust for the kill even stronger. I started to creep toward her, my worn leather boots padded against the ground as I silently trod upon leaves and twigs. As I grew closer to the woman, my pace increased, until I was nearly sprinting at her on bent legs. My heartbeat was like a war drum, pounding out a fast steady beat, making my head felt like it was going to explode any second. It was overwhelming; I had to end it. When I was within yards of the old woman, I stood straight, getting into a full-out sprint at her.

She didn’t hear me until I plunged my dagger into her back. With a choking gasp, she spun about to face me, her eyes meeting mine. I saw them fill with a fleeting look of surprise, before quickly turning to one of intense pain and fear. However, her pain did not last long, as I leaned behind her and yanked my dagger out of her back, and slitting her throat in one smooth motion.

She crumbled to the floor on her very own doorstep, breathed her last gasping, gurgling breath, and became eternally still. I stood over the dead body for a moment, panting slightly. Once my heart rate had started to slow, and my senses seemed to return to normal, the reality of what I had just done crashed into me, physically staggering me.

My eyes widened, and I slumped against the side of the cottage. I still held my dagger, glistening in the fading light. It was smeared with a line of blood, dripping noiselessly to the ground, joining the pool of red liquid forming steadily at my feet. Staring at her motionless body, I felt a strong mix of emotions. First, I felt disgust in myself, but I also felt an almost disturbing sense of pride, and…fulfillment. My desire for blood had been filled; the desire I had held back for so long. I had killed livestock and beast for food, but this was different. This was…murder. However, as quickly as it had come, the disgust started to ebb away, and a small smile formed on my face as I stood up straight again.

At that moment, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck; a feeling that someone was watching me, that someone had seen what I had done. I whipped around, dagger at the ready, but saw nothing. The sun was nearly lost behind the mountains to the West, but there was still enough light for me to see the landscape around me in detail. I shuffled in full circle, but could pick out no one in the surrounding forest. Even so, I still could not loose the feeling of being watched, so I kept my dagger and bow at easy access.

Casting one last suspicious look into the immediate area, I turned back toward the body. As I looked at her corpse again, I felt another overwhelming feeling of disgust, but this time not at what I had done- now at the fact that I didn’t feel any remorse for my actions; no pity for the defenseless old woman. I wanted to- I genuinely wanted to feel bad, to feel guilty. But I didn’t. I…couldn’t. Sighing, pushing the unsettling thoughts out of my mind, I squatted down and started to search her for valuables.

I found about 4 gold, which was quite a sum to me at that time, and a letter to some gift-giving service listing the locations of all of her kids. I pocketed the list, not really sure why. I also found the key to her cottage. I looked back up at the sky, finding that the sun had almost disappeared, so I decided to spend the night in her house. I dragged her body into the tall grass surrounding the home before slipping the key into the lock and opening the cottage door.

Upon entering, I found that the old woman (Perennia Draconis, according to the letter) had a dog when it started barking incessantly, but it seemed as ancient as she had been. I tossed it some old boar meat from my pack, and he eagerly started gnawing at it, completely forgetting my presence. I quickly scanned the interior, looking for valuables, but not finding much. According to the sign over the mantle, the place was called “Applewatch”.

My stomach growled, so I looked into my pack and pulled out some venison and various vegetables I had stored for my trip. I cooked them in the fire place, petting the content dog while stoking the fire. Looking back, I didn’t even feel uneasy spending such a pleasant time in the home of the woman I had just mercilessly slain. My thoughts at the time were only of the food I was cooking. After my meal, I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me, so I stripped out of my leather greaves, boots and cuirass and pulled on a long coarse shirt to sleep in. I slipped my dagger under my pillow, placed my quiver and bow on the bedside table, and slid into the warm recesses of the covers. It was extremely comfortable, compared to my recent sleeping arrangements, which had consisted of rock slabs and leaf piles. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I was woken not four hours later when my blood seemed to turn to ice, the air still and silent. In one fluid movement I had sat bolt upright and pulled my dagger out from under my pillow, holding it menacingly out into the dark room. I sat there, panting for second, trying to peer through the complete darkness, when a deep, sinister voice spoke to my right.

“You sleep rather soundly for murderer. That’s good. You’ll need a clear conscience for what I’m about to propose.”

I leapt to the left, pulling the covers off the bed as I swung my dagger wildly into midair, attempting to defend myself. I pressed my back against the wall, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Across the bed I saw a man, clothed and hooded in the darkest black. His deep brown eyes were studying, assessing every move I made, always calculating. He seemed to be almost…amused at my reaction. His lips were curled up ever so slightly at the corners, and his intense eyes were gleaming with laughter.

“Who-who are you?” I demanded, mentally assessing my options. Listen to him talk, charge and attack, or run. Talking seemed to be the most favorable of my options; he looked quite skilled with a blade, and his athletic form could be seen even through his robes and the way he moved; he could probably outrun me. Besides, I wanted to see what he had to say. He was…intriguing.

“I am Lucien Lachance, a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you, you are a killer. A taker of life. A harvester of souls. Your work, your death craft, pleases the Night Mother. And so, I come to you with an offer. An opportunity to join our rather…unique family.”

I had no idea what to say. How did he know I had murdered the woman? And how had he known so quickly? Could he have been the presence I sensed after her death? But how had he known I was going to kill her? And what- My internal bombarding of questions was cut off as he continued, looking at me in a way that seemed to convey that he knew exactly what my thoughts were.

“So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely. On the Green Road to the North of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. He is an old man, his body frail, and he sleeps his days away. You could kill him before he woke, if you so chose. In whatever way you choose, kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family.”

I thought about his last statement, and some of the possible implications one could interpret from it, and was suddenly extremely aware of the shortness of my shirt, and how much my legs were showing. I colored slightly, embarrassed at my own thoughts, which were most likely completely unfounded. He continued on, seemingly undeterred by my silence.

“Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence,” he said with his slight smile, handing me a gold-decorated dagger.

‘The Blade of Woe’ was inscribed on its gold and black hilt. I stood digesting this for a moment, before I looked him in the eye and said questioningly:
“The Dark Brotherhood?”

“Have you not heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Of the remorseless guild of paid assassins and homicidal cutthroats? Join us, and you’ll find the Dark Brotherhood to be all that, and so much more. We are, more than anything, a union of like-minded individuals. We kill for profit, for enjoyment, and for the glory of the Dread Father Sithis. We are a family, with bonds forged in blood… and death.”

Deep in the recesses of my mind I found a distant memory; of my early teen years, working at the linen shop with my aunt. The daily routine involved scrubbing fabric clean in the back room, while gossiping with the fellow workers. I remember my aunt leaning conspiratively over her scrub board, eyes wide and her voice fearful: “They say that when you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood visits you in your sleep. It’s how they recruit new members.”

The understanding must have shown on my face, for he nodded briskly and said: “Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we’ll meet again soon.” And with one last lingering look, in which he took in my scantly dressed form with a slightly raised eyebrow and an amused gleam in his eye, Lucien Lachance vanished. Literally. The door to the cottage opened and closed, seemingly on its own accord, and a cold draft sweeping into the room. The sounds of night filled the room, embracing me.

I stood for a moment, perhaps more, rigid in astonishment. I realized now that I had often heard of the Dark Brotherhood, but these were always tales of evil and heartless murder. And I had just been asked to join them. To ‘join their family’, as Lachance had put it. Did that make me evil? Was I evil? I thought of the body lying cold outside in the tall grass, and still didn’t feel a pang of shame or guilt. I realized that I was just that; a cold, heartless murderer. Maybe not evil, but I was a cold-blooded murderer. I wasn’t ready to admit myself as evil. Not yet.

When Lachance had spoken of them, he made the Brotherhood sound like they were…close. A family. A loving family of cold-blooded assassins. The idea seemed so preposterous that I almost laughed out loud. My first inclination was to forget the whole prospect- to never even go near the Inn of Ill Omen. Best to disregard the whole thing. But as I lowered myself back onto the bed, picking up the comforter and pulling it over my body, I couldn’t stop replaying Lucien’s words in my thoughts.

For my whole life I had felt almost overpowering urges to kill, to murder. But I had always resisted, always controlled myself. At sometimes I had barely contained myself, but I had never given in. Until now. Since my desires did not seem to be shared by any I knew, I had always considered myself a freak of nature, a one of a kind outcast. I felt that my only option was to just conform to fit in with society. But now it seemed that there were others like me; those who embraced their gifts for murder. And these people wanted to accept me as one of their own.

And what about this ‘Speaker’, this Lucien Lachance? The way he spoke of murder- he seemed to feel the same way that I had felt about killing the old woman. It was…intoxicating. I had not even accepted his offer, yet he was already treating me as family. No one had ever treated me like that, not since my aunt died when I was young. Part of me wanted to see this “Lucien Lachance” again…in the short time I had met him he had made an impression.

Maybe I would just go and check out the Inn, to see what was there. Just to see where the man lived, I thought to myself. The rest of the night continued in the same fashion, with internal arguments and self-objections. Finally, after a sleepless and thought filled night, I set out at dawn for the Inn, fill of determination and purpose. I was going to kill that man. I was going to join the Dark Brotherhood.

Chapter Two: The Old Man and the Inn

The journey was shorter than it should have been; I was so invigorated that I hardly slept at all, and only when it was completely necessary-like when I was practically tripping over my feet. My rising anticipation was almost unbearable; when I saw an Imperial Legion Officer who politely saluted me on the road, all I wanted to do was impale his skull with an arrow. But instead I smiled amiably back and walked on, hands clenched on my dagger. In my mind I still imagined the satisfying thunk of the arrow piercing his skull.

When I neared the Inn, I found that there was another one just down the road. I decided that it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to go stay in the Ill Omen, so I headed toward the other one, “The Faregyl Inn” it was called, if memory serves. I decided to buy a room for the night- 10 gold out the window. I barely had enough, but I figured that I would be getting some gold soon, providing all went well. I paid the Khagiit, gave her a (totally fake) friendly smile, and headed up into the room.

It was small, but comfortable and homey. I gave a valiant attempt at sleep, but all I did was inspect the inside of my eyelids for a couple of hours. I kept looking anxiously outside to see if it was dark yet. After what seemed days, but was only a couple of hours, I decided that it was time to prepare. My plan was to leave the Inn without being seen, get into the Inn of Ill Omen also without being seen, kill the Rufio silently and without being seen, and leave, guess what, without being seen.

My plan called for a lot of discretion, so I pulled on my dark green shirt and black pants. I chose my soft leather shoes, hoping they would make my steps quieter. I tied a black leather belt around my waist and slipped the dagger that Lachance had given me into its sheath, which I attached to the belt. Next, I slipped my quiver over my shoulders and tightened the leather straps- I didn’t want it to slip off if I had to make a fast exit. Then I slipped my bow into its slot on my quiver. I debated bringing my long sword, but decided that it was too cumbersome to carry along, so it was left it behind. I also slipped some vials of poison that I had concocted last week for hunting deer and wolf. I wasn’t sure what the effects on humans would be, but I was pretty sure they wouldn’t be positive.

I opened the door to my room a crack and looked out into the upstairs hallway. It was deserted, and seemed quiet downstairs. Sliding into the hallway, I closed my door silently behind me and crept down the first flight of stairs. I peered through the opening in the chimney that held the stove and could see that the Inn owner was asleep on a bed roll by the counter. There was no one else in the room, except for a drunken Legion officer lying asleep at a table, face in his mug, snoring loudly.

I crept quietly as I could towards the exit, avoiding a bowl of strawberries that had been knocked over earlier. Opening the door, I winced each time it creaked, praying that no one would wake. When I finally got out I paused, soaking in the midnight air. It was a quiet, cloudless night, and all around me was shrouded in shadow, the trees swaying in the cool breeze, the crickets chirping quietly in the background. I stood still, breathing in the night air, savoring it. The cool night air invigorated me; it always had. I smiled slightly, and moved on.

Making my way quickly but silently up the road, I made sure to keep checking for Legion officers and any other travelers out late. Luckily I found no one- the threat of Daedra was keeping most in their homes in terror. However, when I got closer to the Inn of Ill Omen, I heard the sound of arrows being notched and shot at a target. I headed up over the hill in the forest surrounding the Inn and found, to my dismay, an Imperial Forester shooting arrows at a hay target by the left side of the entrance. He was a little too close to the Inn door for my comfort, but I wasn’t sure if I could kill him quickly enough without his alerting anyone nearby…Guards were tricky that way.

After watching for another moment, I weighed my chances and decided to take him out. I didn’t want anyone to see me enter or exit the inn, and I didn’t think I could sneak past him. He was too close to the door, and a guard was the last possible type of person I wanted to see me near the scene of an about to be committed murder. The adrenaline started to coarse through me again at my decision; I pulled out the dagger in my belt and dipped it into the vial of poison, slowly making my way down the hill, grimacing every time I made a sound in the deep grass. The Imperial Forrester was still absorbed in his archery practice, oblivious to my movements behind him. I pulled closer and closer, speeding up as I hit the dirt path in front of the Inn. I was about 10 feet from him when I my right foot kicked a rock that tumbled right towards the forester. My blood ran cold as the rock hit the back of his boot.

Time seemed to slow even further as he started to turn. All I had was pure instinctual reaction; I held up my dagger and sprinted at him, my each footfall feeling light and nimble. As he turned to face me, dropping his bow and drawing his sword, I slashed my dagger across his chest. I didn’t make too deep a wound, but it was enough to stagger him. He gave a surprised grunt of pain, staggering back slightly, the sword going limp in his had. I think I was so surprised to have made contact that I was momentarily stunned, as I fell back as well. He recovered quicker than I did and lunged forward at me, using my surprise to his advantage. I swung my dagger up in a desperate attempt to block the strike- I knocked his sword aside, but was pushed back a couple of steps from the force of the attack. He found his grip on the sword again, but this time I was ready. I sprung forward, slashing underneath the raised sword, slicing deep into his stomach. He dropped his sword, wrapping his arms around his gut. I watched as his insides literally tumbling out before my eyes.

Falling to his knees, gasping painfully for breath, the Imperial Forrester tried desperately to hold his innards in his stomach with two bloody, trembling hands. I stood over him, chest heaving with each breath I took. And as I stood there, he looked up into my eyes with a look full of pain, and what seemed to be fear; I could sense that he was not ready to die, not ready to face what someday we must all face. His gaze held mine, right up until the moment the light left his eyes, and he collapsed face forward on the ground. It was déjà vu to the woman; I felt the same feeling of disgust in myself, but it was becoming less intense. The feeling of fulfillment, of malicious and sadistic glee, was becoming more prominent.

I gained my senses quickly enough, and realized that I had to hide the body before anyone came out to investigate the noise; the first part of my plan hadn’t been completed as silently as I had hoped.

Grabbing him underneath the shoulders, I tugged his body around to the side of the Inn, where I opened the grate of the well. Panting from the effort, I lifted the corpse over the ledge of well, and shoved. After hearing a satisfying distant splash, I quickly turned and jogged to the front. I replaced my iron bow with his silver, stuck his remaining arrows into my quiver, and chucked his long sword into the forest. As an afterthought, I kicked up some dust to try and cover the blood stains. I was wiping the layer of sweat that had formed on my forehead when the front door of the Inn creaked open.

In a flash, I darted into the shadows along the side of the building, flattening myself against the wall, my heart pounding a fast, steady beat. A Nord walked out, whistling tunelessly to himself. He stopped when he had gone about ten feet from the entrance, and turned about, as though searching.

“Patric? Where the hell didya go?” he said, his voice sounding slightly amused. I realized that he must be the barman due to the dirty rag in his back pocket and his beer stained shirt. The only other reason his shirt would be covered in alcohol would have been if he was drunk, but he certainly wasn’t.

“Patric! You’ve been slacking off again, haven’t you, you dirty little cheat! Ordered to guard the inn, but always running off, you sweet talking brown noser!” the rest of what he said dissolved into incoherent mumbling and grumbling.

He trudged a little further down the walk, still mumbling, and I decided I would take my chances and try to sneak inside while he was out. Keeping my back against the wall, I slid toward the door, opening it quickly but as quietly as I could manage. I was blessed with the fact that it was empty, probably due to the lateness of the hour. Or this could be a normal occurrence- who in their right mind would ever want to stay at an inn with a name like the ‘Inn of Ill Omen’?

That’s probably why Rufio is staying here, I thought to myself. He figures no one will ever come here, that it will be safe. I decided that Rufio wasn’t a stupid man.

I stepped further into the Inn and looked around the small bar and dining room, wondering where the old man would be. After a brief moment, however, my pondering was cut off abruptly when the front door started to open behind me. I leapt to the left, praying the barman hadn’t seen me. As he didn’t look in my direction or make a sound, I was safe- for now. The shadows were not enough to conceal me for long.

Beneath my foot I felt an uprising in the wood; I looked down and saw a hatch. There wasn’t anything else I could do, so I lifted up the trap door and dropped in before I could think of all things that could go wrong, bending my knees, preparing for the impact. My feet hit a dusty stone floor, and I tumbled to the side to lessen my impact. I found myself in a hallway, with two doors on my left side. Deciding to investigate, I pulled out my dagger and tread silently down the hall. I tried the first door, but found it was locked. Moving on to the next door, I turned the handle slowly and opened it a crack. The room was bare and dark, and on the bed in the far corner was a sleeping man. He seemed almost frail, his hair white.

This could possibly be Rufio; Lachance had said he was old. However, I wasn’t quite certain as to how I could be sure, so I decided I could ask him. Looking back, my skills as an assassin are almost laughable. Screw almost laughable, they were downright pathetic, perfectly worthy of scorn and ridicule. But I got better- I swear.

Anyways, I walked over to the bed, sheathing my dagger to look less threatening, and poked the sleeping man in the shoulder. He started, tumbling out of bed and scrambling to his feet.

“Who- who are you? What do you want?”
“Are you Rufio?” I asked, getting straight to the point.
He didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes gave me my answer.
“What do you want?” he said, his voice wavering. “I ain’t done nothing!”

I wanted to sound threatening I suppose, and in those days my innocence and naivety had led me to believe that most people would only wish evil individuals dead, so I supposed he must have done something.

“Oh, but you have, Rufio,” I said, my voice low. The fear in his eyes made my heart beat hard with anticipation, a thrill rising in the back of my throat.

“It wasn’t my fault! I told her to stay still, but she didn’t listen…she didn’t listen! I didn’t have a choice!” he sputtered, his voice high and shrill.

At these words, my eyes must have shown my intentions, as he started to run toward the door. I drew my dagger out again and bounded after him, almost cat-like, stalking my prey, playing with him. I could have killed him then, but I wanted to savor in the kill, to take my time. If he headed for the trapdoor I could get to him before he reached the top, so I wasn’t worried.

However, luckily for me, he scrambled into the locked room, casting a spell to open it before him. He ran the wall and crouched down, his hands over his head protectively, cowering.

“Please don’t hurt me!”
I walked into the room leisurely, letting each footstep echo around the room. Stopping behind him, I took my bow off my back and notched an arrow. My movements were all unhurried and deliberate, as I was relishing in each movement, taunting him with the excruciating slowness. I pulled the arrow slowly back, making sure he could hear and understand exactly what I was doing. I walked around to face him. His head was bent, looking at my feet, his body shaking with silent sobs. Pointing my arrow straight into the center of his head, I waited for him to look up. After a moment more of shaking sobs, he finally raised his head, red rimmed eyes hopeful. I smiled.
“Goodbye, Rufio.” And I let go of the arrow.

Chapter Three: Welcome to the Family

I left the Inn without being seen- the barman was asleep behind the counter. I walked blissfully down the road, back to the Faregyl Inn, entering silently. When I was back in my room, I sat down in the chair, my lips turned up in the corners, eyes gleaming, feeling more fulfilled than I ever had in my life.

It took awhile for my exhilaration to ebb away, but a couple of hours later all my sleepless days and nights caught up with me, and I fell on the bed, barely pulling the blankets over myself before falling into a deep sleep. However, I was awoken minutes later by a slightly familiar chill in the air. I still leapt of the mattress, but I wasn’t as surprised when I saw the dark robed man at the foot of my bed.

“So, the deed is done. How do I know this? You will find that the Dark Brotherhood knows a great many things. For you are now part of the family,” Lucien Lachance said, eyes gleaming.

I wasn’t really sure how to respond to this, so I just returned his gaze, prompting him to continue. His lips twitched in the corners, and he spoke again.

“Now, heed these words. The slaying of Rufio was the signing of a covenant. The manner of execution, your signature. Rufio’s blood, the ink. As a Speaker for the Black Hand, I directly oversee a particular group of family members. You will join that group, and fulfill any contracts given. You must now go to the city of Cheydinhal, to the abandoned house near the eastern wall. Enter the basement, and attempt to open the black door. You will be asked a question. Answer thusly: ‘Sanguine, my Brother’. You will gain entrance to the Sanctuary. Once inside, speak with Ocheeva. You are now one with the Dark Brotherhood. Visit Ocheeva, and your new life will begin.”

I understood most of what he had said, but there was one thing that he said that confused me.

“A covenant?” I asked.
Lachance gave me an appraising look, as though deciding how to answer me.

“Know this. Every dark brother and sister is a child of Sithis. He whom we call Sithis has many other names. Chaos. Doom. Discord. Sithis is the Void. We of the Dark Brotherhood serve the Night Mother, who is the bride of Sithis.” His tone was a loving caress as he spoke of his dark matrons.

“Sithis?” I said, thirsty for more knowledge.
“How does one best describe our Dread Father?” he said ponderingly for a brief pause. Then, with a cloudy, far away gaze, he continued in a low voice.

“Imagine a perfect, cloudless midnight, cold as winter ice and shrouded in shadow. That is Sithis.”

I took in a sharp intake of breath, recalling what I had felt about this very night. Lachance had been right- we were like-minded individuals. If the other family members were like this, I had a feeling that I would be right at home. I smiled to myself, and glanced up to see Lucien staring at me, looking almost pleased with my reaction.

“I’m afraid that we must now take our leave of each other, you and I, for there is much work to be done. I’ll be following your…progress. Welcome to the family.” Lachance lips twitched in the corners (which I now figured was a smile), his dark eyes sparkling. My heart skipped a beat and I felt short of breath; but then he was gone, vanished into thin air again.

I let out a deep sigh and fell back onto the bed. Lying there with my arms crossed behind my head, I had another genuinely content smile on my face- it had been a long time since I had done that. I was part of the Dark Brotherhood. I had a family.

* * *

I arrived in Cheydinhal after a two day journey, in which I didn’t run into much trouble. It was a pleasant trip, the days sunny and the roads clear of enemies. I had never been to Cheydinhal before, and upon arrival I found it to be a quite irritating place, with a lot of smiling rich people, walking around and enjoying the sights.

Nobody seemed to have a care in the world. All they talked about was how a traveling champion had landed one ‘Ulrich Leland’ in jail for overcharging on fines, and now everyone was perfectly happy. It was infuriating. The buildings in Cheydinhal were of stone and wood, with an upper layer of white, and the roofs all a pleasant purple, tall and spiraling, As I entered the town through the West Gate, I started to walk it’s roads, the carefree atmosphere etched into the air around me. The tall buildings gave the illusion of walking through a canyon; they almost felt restricting as they towered around me, wherever I went. It made me feel like someone was always watching me, and I didn’t like it.

A scowl plastered on my face, I crossed a bridge and went along the path, searching for an abandoned looking building. The town was rather wealthy and well-kept, so I felt that an abandoned house would stick out. I was starting to get discouraged as the path looped around the church, but just as I began to wonder if I had missed it, I saw the house.

A broken wall and boarded windows were the first indication; broken off stones and planks of wood scattered the front lawn, leading up to a boarded up door. It was twilight, so most of the townspeople were heading to bed by now. Checking around the area, there was only one person present- a guard, standing outside of a home in the square. I stood by the doors of the church, watching him for a couple of minutes. He didn’t move. I supposed he must have been posted as a sentry, because most guards had schedules and routes they were tasked to walk. I decided that I would have to try to enter the house without him seeing me.

Striding across the square at what I hoped to be a leisurely, carefree gait, I saluted him as I walked by and started to head further down the road. When he turned back towards the church as its door opened I leapt into action, sprinting silently toward the Abandoned House. When I reached the door I found it was locked, and cursed under my breath. However, I had a stroke of luck; an Altmer leaving the church had distracted him with the talk of the town. I quickly started my work on the lock, rotating the picks just so, the guard’s and Altmer’s voices sounded strangely muted in my concentration.

“Anyone looking for work should consider the Fighter’s Guild. I hear they’re always looking for recruits.”

Ah ha! I heard the sliding of the lock and I opened the door, slipping in noiselessly. The interior of the house was as rundown as the outside. I drew my dagger, just in case, and searched the upstairs of the house, not finding anything, including the door I was supposed to talk to. Slightly confused, I head back downstairs. Looking more thoroughly, I noticed a door on my left. Opening it, I saw a flight of stairs heading down into darkness, so I pulled out a torch and descended the flight of stairs carefully. There was a gaping hole in the wall straight across from the stairway, and I headed through it cautiously, following a narrow path around the corner. I looked down the passageway, and saw it was bathed in a red light. At the bottom of the path there was a door; an ancient door with a mural painted upon it, depicting a large skull with a glowing red hand in the center of it, and a woman holding a smaller being, threatening a line of praising figures with a long, razor-like knife. As I walked up to it, staring in fascination, a deep voice posed a question.

“What is the color of night?” it drawled out, in a raspy voice.
“Sanguine, my brother,” I said, my voicing wavering only a little.
“Welcome home” it responded slowly. And the door creaked open slowly, showing another short red glowing passage, and at the end, an Argonian. I walked toward the figure dressed in a suit of black leather, trying to keep my step confident but wary. As I drew closer, the Argonian walked briskly toward me.

“Greetings! Greetings! I am Ocheeva, mistress of this Sanctuary. Lucien has told me all about you.” I felt myself blush slightly, wondering what he had said. Ocheeva smiled warmly at me. She had a common Argonian face of green and streaks of red under her eyes. She had some random things hanging from her ears, like curtains or something.

“Let me welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood! It is always a pleasure to welcome another Dark Sister into our ranks! Truly, the Night Mother smiles upon her trusted daughters! You stand now in our Sanctuary. May it serve as your new home, a place of comfort and security whenever the need arises. When you’re ready for work, go and speak with Vicente Valtieri. He handles all assignments for new family members. But before you go, please accept this gift from your new family. A unique set of armor, lighter than normal leather and black as the Void,” she said, handing me a folded pair of black leather armor which I noticed was like hers. As I was examining it, she continued.

“But I’ve kept you long enough. Vicente is waiting. You’ll find him in his quarters. Go now, dear family member, and may the Night mother wrap you in her cold, loving embrace.”

I nodded to her, and she smiled again and walked away. I looked around the sanctuary. It was a large room, with two rows of thick pillars almost creating hallways. Lanterns hung from the ceiling in the center row, creating shadows along the walls. Red carpets were placed in a way that seemed an attempt at making the place homier. As I walked down the lantern filled center row, several others clad in the dark armor came up to me, with various greetings and hand-shaking. I was quite overwhelmed, but smiled and said that I was told to speak to Valtieri. They all let me go with apologies, and I headed onward. As I headed down some stairs I saw a Khagiit in blue robes. He scowled at me as I passed by, and I was rather surprised, comparing that to the others reactions. But I didn’t think about it for long, as I reached the two thick doors that led to Vicente Valtieri’s room.

I entered to the room and was alarmed by the appearance of a man standing to the left of me. He was wearing all black, but it wasn’t the standard armor I saw on the others. His eyebrows were white, but he had a black long ponytail. The most unnerving thing about him was his red eyes and his extremely gaunt face. His cheeks were so far sunken in that his mouth seemed to be sticking out, like a beak of some sorts.

“Ah, here you are. So good to finally meet you.” He said. Why was everyone acting like they all had heard a lot about me?

“Warmest greetings to you. I trust you’ve already spoken with Ocheeva? I am Vicente Valtieri. I provide assignments for all new family members. Please do not let my appearance…unnerve you. The needs and tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my own needs as a vampire.” My eyes widened and my mouth opened slightly. Oh. So that explains it. He seemed used to my reaction, and unfazed by it.

“Now if you’re ready to get to work, I can provide you with your first contract.” Already? I thought to myself; well, bring it on!
“I am ready,” I said.

“A contract is a secret pact one enters into with the Dark Brotherhood. They provide us with gold, and we remove someone from existence. A contract is fulfilled by a skilled assassin, such as yourself, who keeps the Dark Brotherhood’s end of the bargain. So it has always been. While carrying out the contract, you may have the opportunity to earn a bonus if certain parameters are met. Now, let’s begin, shall we?” I nodded vigorously, totally captivated by his eloquence of speech.

“I’m not sure how you feel about pirates, but you’ve got to kill one. A captain, in fact. On his ship. Surrounded by his crew. Interested?”
“Yes, I’ll accept the contract,” I replied, eyes lighting up with excitement.

“Excellent. Here is what you must do. Go to the Waterfront District of the Imperial City. There you will find a ship named the Marie Elena. Board the ship and find its captain, Gaston Tussaud. He’ll be in his cabin. Eliminate Tussand in any manner you see fit. The pirates have been moving a lot of cargo onboard lately. You may be able to smuggle yourself onboard in one of the packing crates. Oh, and one more thing. Get into the habit of asking your fellow family members about any current contract. Their insight may prove invaluable. Take care,” he said abruptly, and he strode from the room, closing the door behind him.

Rather stunned by his sudden departure, I turned and looked at the closed door. I was being paid to kill someone. I was being paid to do something that I enjoyed, something I genuinely enjoyed. This was the first time in my life that had happened. I smiled, and thought to myself, I’m gonna fit in just fine here.

Chapter Four: A Union of Like-Minded Individuals

I decided that I would introduce myself to the other family members, to try and get to know them. I also wanted some advice on my next contract; I needed all the help I could get. I left Vicente’s room and started to climb up the steps. The Khagiit who I had saw on my way down was still there; I walked towards him, but rather warily, remembering his reaction when I walked by before.

“If it isn’t the newest member of the family. Let’s get one thing straight- the Tenets prevent me from killing you. But I don’t have to like you. I’ll sell you equipment, but only because Ocheeva is making me. This family doesn’t need any…outsiders.” He spit out these words, his little yellow eyes flashing with anger. He had a red headband, with tufts of hair sticking out at the sides. His nose was the common for a Khagiit; a very large muzzle, commanding your attention.

As I was trying to think up a response to this rather frank and rude remark, he turned on his heel and strode off; I distinctly heard him mutter under his breath “Foul smelling ape”. Well, that didn’t go to well, I thought to myself. Shaking my head, I resolutely decided I’d disregard the Khagiit and move on and meet the rest of the family. I climbed up the second flight of stairs and into large entry room. There another Argonian standing off to the left, so I headed in his direction.

“I wish to welcome you to this Sanctuary, my newest Sister. My name is Teinaava, and I welcome you to our family, and to this Sanctuary. May you find yourself at home here, in the loving embrace of our Lady the Night Mother,” he said, smiling warmly while shaking my hand. He had a red face, with green stripes under his eyes.

“Thank you so much for being so kind; the sanctuary is amazing...and to think, people search for the Dark Brotherhood hideouts throughout all Cyrodiil, in the most remotest of places, and here is one of them, hidden right in the middle of a town!” I said, lifting my arms and gesturing around the room, smiling lightly.

“Actually, I've heard the Count of Cheydinhal knows about this Sanctuary. But he is offered much gold, as well as... other incentives, to keep his mouth shut,” he said, leaning in conspiratively and grinning mischievously. I smiled widely back, giving a little chuckle.

“How long has the Sanctuary been here?” I asked.

“Vicente joined the Brotherhood 200 years ago, and according to him the Sanctuary was already here,” said Teinaava, smiling as my eyebrows shot up. “Two hundred…years?!” I said incredulously.

“Have you not met him yet? You know that he is a vampire? Vampires live a long, long time,” he said, nodding his head. “You should ask Vicente about it sometime, interesting stuff.”

Teinaava smiled at me one more time, and said that regrettably, he must be going, but that we would speak later. He then strode off, heading for the exit. I thought about our conversation- it had been short, but already it felt so easy, so free, to talk to him. I hadn’t faked any of it; it was all genuine. I had an enjoyable conversation for the first time since my aunt’s death.

Smiling to myself, I stood and decided to find out what was behind the doors off to the right of the room. I was just about to push them open when a big Orc came barging out, nearly knocking me over. I stumbled back, but he stuck a big hand out and pulled me back steadily to my feet.

“There you are!” he boomed. “Welcome! Welcome to the family! I’m Gogron gro-Bolmog. I’d hug you, but Ocheeva told me not to!”

“Uhm, well, glad to meet you too,” I said, rather alarmed by his over excessive welcome.

“Well, if you need anything, just ask!” he rumbled. He had a big green face, with small kind red eyes and laugh lines etched into his features. “I’m normally at the sanctuary, so just look around for me.”

“You like the Sanctuary, then?” I said.

“Well, you know what they say- home is where you hang your enemies head!” And with that, he gave me a clap on the back and headed through the doors across the room. I shook my head amusedly, and headed through the thick doors he had just exited; led to a training room, with several targets and dummies set up for practice. There was a small Breton girl crouched down in the corner, whacking a wooden dummy with a dagger. I strode into the room, admiring it, when she turned and wiped her forehead of sweat. She had a round face with blonde hair and small green eyes; a rather pretty girl.

“Hi, I’m-”
“Oh, I know, I know- you’re Adrienne! So good to finally meet you, dark sister. My name is Antoinetta Marie. I hope you’re getting along all right. If you need anything, anything at all, you need only ask,” she said, green eyes flashing.

“Thank you, it’s so nice to meet everyone. The Sanctuary is fantastic, it already feels like home,” I said, once again wondering what everyone had heard about me, surprised that she knew my name.

She was silent for a brief pause, and then said “I know what you mean. Have you ever lived on the streets, struggled to survive? This Sanctuary is my home. Here I have the safety and love I've searched for all my life.”

“I understand,” I said shortly, nodding my head. We were all so similar, I thought. It was almost alarming. She smiled thinly at me and strode off a little haughtily, leaving me in the room alone. I followed her, staying a bit behind though. I entered the doors across the hall and followed the passageway down to a room with a row of beds, and two tables with various foods and drink lying around. Sitting at the table next to Antoinetta was a square-faced Bosmer, with peach skin and green eyes. She had a small, pursed mouth and a large chin. She was wearing the hood that was the same as the one I had been given. When I approached she rose and shook my hand.

“It is an honor to make your acquaintance. Warmest welcome to you. I am Telaendril, Wood Elf and loyal daughter to Sithis. I hope you find our Sanctuary to your liking, dark sister.”

“Its great- everyone’s been so kind,” I said.
“Well, we are a family,” she replied. She glanced over my shoulder, and I turned to see what she was looking at- it was Ocheeva.

“I heard you’ve accepted the contract from Vicente- very good. With every life you take, Sithis grows stronger, and the Brotherhood flourishes.” I smiled at her in answer, nodding my head once.

“Ocheeva, I have a question…” she nodded. “Everyone keeps calling me ‘dark sister’, but aren‘t we a brotherhood?”

“While the Brotherhood maintains its ancient name, membership is always open to skilled women. For can we not draw blood as well as any man?” she replied, smiling with an eyebrow raised. I laughed agreeably with her and Telaendril, while Gogron, who was sitting on his bed, grunted. We all smiled at his typical male reaction.

“So, your first contract,” said Gogron, obviously trying to change the subject. “No chance for a bonus, huh? That's all right, you're better off! Who needs magic items when you've got raw skill? And the great thing about killing a target up close and personal is you can talk to 'em before you do it! You know, say something scary!” Telaendril shook her head wearily, and Antoinetta and Ocheeva exchanged exasperated, yet amused looks.

“For example, this one time, I had a contract to kill a little Nord girl at her birthday party. She asked me if I was the jester! So I said to her, "No, I am a messenger of death." You should have seen the look on her face! Ha ha ha ha! Anyway, she won't be seeing age six!”

All three of my companions laughed, and I sat there stunned for a second before joining in. They spoke of murder so casually, and of a child as well! I had never really been affected by tales of murder, whether about adults or children. However, I had always acted like I was horrified by them, as was customary. I guess I wouldn’t have to here.

“So, what is your first contract?” asked Teinaava, who had just entered the room and came to stand by myself, Telaendril, Ocheeva and Antoinetta. It was around when everyone ate dinner, so family members were starting to congregate in the room. I thought of what Vicente had said about asking my family members for aid on my contracts, and thoroughly explained my orders to kill the Pirate Captain.

Teinaava nodded, and said “The Marie Elena, you say? I've seen that ship. There's a unique balcony at the stern. My guess is it leads to the captain's cabin. Could be useful.” “Thanks, Teinaava,” I said gratefully. He nodded, and grabbed a loaf of bread and come cheese, and sat on a chair.

“I've traveled by prison ship. It was cramped and dark. There was little room to move around, but plenty of shadowy nooks to hide in. Remember that,” said Antoinetta, but she didn’t seem to happy to be helping me out. What was her problem? I wondered, smiled at Antoinetta, who shrugged indifferently back, and then asked a question I had been wondering about.

“So how does someone set a contract, anyways? I mean, how do people get intact with us if we’re secret?” I asked the group.

“To employ the services of the Dark Brotherhood, one must perform a ritual to the Night Mother.” It was Ocheeva who answered me. “Only then will she heed their prayers for murder. It is an ancient rite, this Black Sacrament. All across the Empire, every day, people beseech the Night Mother to take the lives of others. After a person performs the ritual, they are contacted by a Speaker. Gold is exchanged, and the details worked out. So it has always been.”

I digested this, and then asked “How did the Dark Brotherhood begin?”
“Long ago, in an age now forgotten, Sithis came to the Night Mother and begat her five sons. So you see, his love gave birth to the Dark Brotherhood,” said Telaendril. Everyone else nodded in assent. Gogron rolled back into his bed, seeming to prepare to sleep. Ocheeva and Telaendril returned to their chairs, while Teinaava munched on his food. Antoinetta sat down next to Teinaava, across from me. We all started to eat whatever we could grab, indiscriminately.

“So, how did everyone else join the Brotherhood?” I said, chewing on an apple. “Actually, Lucien did not try to recruit me. Not at first. He tried to kill me. My father wanted me dead, and he hired the Dark Brotherhood to do it.” Her feature contorted slightly. “I escaped from Lucien, and paid my father back for his treachery. Lucien came to me again that night with an offer I just couldn’t refuse,” said Telaendril, her eyes looking far away, as (I supposed) she thought of her initiation.

I was interested to know more about Lucien, and was lucky that the others continued the path of conversation.

“Ocheeva and I have known Lucien since we were hatchlings,” said Teinaava, gesturing to Ocheeva (who nodded) with a slab of cheese. “He is the one who trained us in the way of the Shadowscale, and is like a father to us.”

“I once saw Lucien deal with an insubordinate Brother, someone who had broken the Tenets. It took me a week to get the blood off my boots,” Gogron said gruffly from his bed in the corner. Everyone around the table (except for me) laughed and chuckled, recalling the incident.

“I will always think of Lucien Lachance as my savior. When he found me, I was living in a gutter, an inch away from death. I owe him everything.” It was Antoinetta who said this, and the way she emphasized her last sentence that made me wonder what her relationship to Lucien Lachance really was. I felt a sharp stab of…jealously, for some reason. Suddenly I realized that I wished to talk to Lucien again; I wanted to ask him several questions, and first of all, I wanted to know what he had been telling everyone about me!

“Is Lucien here? I didn’t notice him,” I said carefully.
“Lucien isn’t here very often. His duties with the Black Hand keep him very busy, so he trusts me to keep the Sanctuary in order,” said Ocheeva.

“Oh,” I said, rather dejectedly. I slumped back in my chair, disappointed. I hadn’t realized how much I was looking forward to speaking with him again. Ocheeva seemed to pick up on my behavior, for she gave me an inquisitive look, but conversation was picked up again and she seemed to forget about it.

We continued eating, talking and laughing for another hour or so, until some had to say good night, and others headed out to attend to duties. I wasn’t heading for the Imperial City till morning, so I just shuffled over to bed, extremely content. That first family dinner was one of the happiest times of my life. The feeling of companionship, of…fitting in somewhere. People may tell themselves that they don’t need that feeling of belonging, that they’re fine without it, but I think everyone needs to have their own place where they fit in. And I had finally found the place I belonged.

Chapter Five: A Pirate’s Life for Me

The next morning I awoke to the sound of sound of uproarious laughter. I sat up with a start; first surprised at the sound of laughter, secondly surprised by being in a genuine bed, before remembering where I was. The Living Quarters of the Dark Brotherhood sanctuary. I looked over to the table and saw Telaendril sitting at the table, her back to me, and Gogron across from her. Gogron was pounding his fist against the table, shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter. Telaendril was trying to shush him, but he just raised his finger to point at me and started his deep, throaty laughter again. Telaendril turned and saw me sitting up in bed, a confused look on my face. She sighed, rolling her eyes.

“Sincerest apologies, dear sister. I told him to be quiet, but once he starts laughing there’s no stopping him” she said, shooting Gogron a dirty look.

“I am sorry, dear sister,” he choked out, still attempting to hold back a snigger. “It’s fine,” I said truthfully. It was something new to wake up to the laughter of friends, and it was something I could get used to. “What’s going on?”

“I was just telling Gogron about my latest contract, and how the girl’s nanny turned out to be a Fighter’s Guild bodyguard- lets just say it was quite the surprise for me. Gogron found it extremely amusing,” she said, jerking her head towards his still shaking form.

I smiled with her as Gogron started to roar with laughter again, unable to contain himself any longer. Still smiling, I swung my legs out of bed, rubbing my eyes. “What time is it?” I asked.

“Around noon,” said Telaendril, turning back to her lunch.
I pushed myself out of bed and stood up, yawning and stretching my stiff body. I knew I would have to get going soon if I wanted to arrive in the Imperial City with enough time to scout out the area before I carried out my contract, so I started to pull on my traveling clothes- leather greaves and a dark green shirt, with my leather boots and headband to hold back stray strands of my long black hair. I strapped on my dagger and shouldered my quiver and bow, while Gogron watched the process.

“You heading out to the pirate ship then?” he asked. I nodded, feeling oddly nervous. I was scared to be caught; I had never gone out with the intention to kill before Rufio, and that was in a secluded place. This was in the middle of a city, the Imperial city no less. I would be surrounded by guards, and if I was caught they would descend on me like a pack of wolves, ready to take me down. I was starting to get myself worked up when Gogron interrupted my thoughts.

“You’ll do fine,” he said, in a brotherly tone, his eyes warm. Telaendril turned to look at me and smiled encouragingly.

“Gogron’s right- you’ll be fine. From what we hear you’re more than capable,” she said, glancing at Gogron, who nodded encouragingly.

I smiled at them both, and was about to voice my thanks when I realized what she had said.

“What do you mean, from what you’ve heard? What has everyone heard about me?” I asked quickly.

“Oh, it’s been nothing bad, dear sister. I’m sorry to leave but we both really must be going. Good luck- I’m sure you’ll return to us with the blessings of the Night Mother after a successful kill.” And with that, they both left me alone in the living quarters, pondering on what she had said. I once again wanted to know what everyone had been told about me, and by whom. The only Dark Brotherhood member who had met me was Lucien Lachance, so I figured it was a safe bet that he was the one who had been telling the others about me. But it wasn’t like we had met for long- just two short visits. How much could he have learned about me in that amount of time?

I put my musings into the back of my mind, and focused on the task at hand. I wanted the journey to be as quick as possible, so I decided that I would try to steal a horse from the stables. This I had done several times before, along with your petty thievery and even the occasional pickpocket. They were skills I had to posses to survive in the world after the passing of my aunt, and I now put them to good use.

Twenty minutes later I was riding a freshly hijacked black horse on the road to the Imperial City, hair flying back in the wind, eyes gleaming with the thrill of traveling so quickly. My journey was going to almost non-existent on this horse- I would have hours before it was dark.

I decided that I would leave the horse by the banks of Lake Rumare and swim across to the Waterfront, instead of riding all the way around. Also, that would meal less guards would see me entering the city- always a good thing. Having only one bridge to access the City, which was surrounded on all sides by the lake, really could be a hassle sometimes.

I dismounted the horse near the shores of the lake and gave it a little shove in the right direction, back towards Cheydinhal. I watched it trudge off for a moment, and then turned toward the lake, switching my leather greaves for some flannel pants and yanking my boots off. I waded into the water slowly, letting the cold wash over me. It was really quite refreshing. After a few moments of floating around, I started swimming at a leisurely pace toward the distant island that was the Waterfront. I was always on the lookout for slaughterfish- the damned things could be such a nuisance.

The swim was a long one, and when I reached about the half way point I was seriously starting to regret my decision, but all I could do is press on. After what seemed hours, I reached the shores of the Waterfront and dragged myself on the beach, exhausted. I rolled over onto my back and tried to catch my breath, staring up into the azure blue skies. Suddenly I heard footsteps in the sand behind me.

“Are you okay miss?”
I tilted my head back and saw the up side down face of an Imperial Legion Officer looking down at me, his face curious.

“Oh, I’m okay, thanks,” I said quickly, starting to stand up, but nearly falling over. He caught me at me at my elbows and held me steady, his face now concerned.

“Are you sure ma’am? What’s happened to you?”
No one in their right mind would have just swum that, and I couldn’t exactly tell the truth now could I?

“I was across the Lake, heading toward the bridge when a bandit attacked me. He was faster than me, so I jumped in the water and started swimming, hoping it would slow him down because he was covered in heavy iron armor,” I said, inventing wildly. “He followed me to nearly the middle of the lake. I decided just to swim this way instead of heading back, but it was a lot further than I thought,”

“What happened to the bandit?” asked the Officer, getting into official business mode.

“He drowned, the armor dragged him down,” I said, putting my head down as if I was an innocent, sorry for the indirect death of someone else.

“It was not your fault- you did what you had to survive. Not many would have had such quick thinking in a similar situation. I thank you for making the roads safer for the next innocent traveler,” he said, lifting my chin. I did have quick thinking, I thought to myself, but not for the good he believes. I smiled in return, and he asked if I needed anymore assistance, but I told him I was fine and proved it by taking a couple of steady steps on my own.

“Good day, ma’am,” he said, and strode off.
I breathed a sigh of relief, and wiped my face with a dry piece of cloth. There wasn’t anything he could have gotten me in trouble for, but I had just given myself a reputation among the Waterfront Imperial Watch as an innocent girl. It could be useful if things went wrong, either now or in my future.

I changed my clothes, pulling on a skirt and plaid shirt for walking around the area. Surrounding me were several wooden shacks, old and rotting, barely standing. Behind them was a huge stone wall, with entry-ways through it that led to the docks. I headed through the center entryway, looking around at all the people.

It was a lot different from Cheydinhal- everyone was dressed in rags, and they all looked slightly undernourished. They also had a look in their eyes that I recognized, and could relate too- they were all hungry, and would steal, cheat and lie to get food and money. I saw several beggars who gave me a pickpocket’s eye, but I stared them down and they realized I wasn’t a likely target.

There were two boats in the harbor- to the right was a ship that I found was called “The Bloated Float”, and it had a tavern and inn on board. The boat to the left was the Marie Elena, where Captain Tussand was. It was an average size boat, its sails flowing in the soft breeze. As I walked briskly towards it, taking on the airs of a tourist seeing the sights, I saw a Dunmer woman and two shirtless men standing by the boat, singing songs of the sea. As I drew closer they looked at me suspiciously, their song wavering and then stopping completely. I looked around quickly, realizing that no one else was strolling around these ends of the docks. So much for being inconspicuous.

“What do you want?” asked one of the men harshly.
“I’m just looking around,” I said, putting on a slightly defensive tone.
“If you take one stop onto my ship, I slice my sword across that pretty little neck of yours,” the other said, leering at me.

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” I replied, acting scared as I scurried off the way I had came. The laughter of the sailors echoed behind me, and they started to sing again. This was going to be a little more complicated then I thought it would be. I had noticed that the beach with all the shacks looped around to behind the boat, so I decided to head there to further inspect the ship.

When I reached the corner beach I could clearly see the back of the boat, and I stood at an angle that the sailors couldn’t see me as I mapped out the best possible route to kill their captain. Teinaava had been right- there was a small balcony at the back of the boat, and I could see from here it was tightly locked; definitely seemed like it led to the captain’s cabin.

Scanning the dock around it, I saw that I could probably make the jump from the dock ledge to the balcony if I aimed just right, but the crewman would have to be out of the way. I knew that I would probably have to wait until later for them to leave the area and go on the ship, and I would need it to be dark if I wanted to make the jump without looking extremely suspicious, so I had all day to spare.

I spent the day in the Market, selling and buying, haggling and coercing with the little money I had. I sold some of my old gear, repaired the stuff I kept, and purchased some more arrows just in case of emergency. Around six, I still had some time to kill, so I went back down to the Waterfront and got a drink at the Bloated Float, and spent my evening going through my bag of various plants and herbs and testing around, concocting potions and poisons.

At around eleven, the bar in the Bloated Float was still rather full, but the crowd was starting to disperse. I left the bar silently, no one noticing my presence, and head out to check if the pirates had left the area yet. The Waterfront was nearly deserted; the only sounds the yells and shouts echoing dully from the Bloated Float; the area attracted a rather boisterous crowd. I walked carefully around the edge of the outer wall, toward the little area with all of the shacks, and quickly shed my day wear, slipping into my new Dark Brotherhood armor. It fit snugly, tight, but also loose in the right places so I could move easily. I then pulled on the dark hood, which effectively hid my face.

When I started to move around with the armor on, I felt as though I could walk more silently- it must have some sort of enchantment on it, I thought. I crept along the wall, sticking to the shadows, until I could peek around the corner and get my view of the ship and the area surrounding it. There was an Imperial Legion Officer walking along the pathway, but he was heading for the lighthouse. The pirates were no where to be seen, and I figured now was my chance. I walked out from behind the wall, crossing the well lit road quickly and silently, and clambered onto the ledge across from the balcony.

I looked around once more, still saw no one, and I dropped down lightly onto the balcony. I landed with a soft thump, and the ship shook slightly, bobbing in the water. I steadied myself, trying to get my sea legs as the boat swayed with the waves. After a moment, I could stand fairly still and I leaned down to inspect the lock on the door. It was a very difficult lock, with several pins that I would have to place. Pulling out my lock picking tools, I started to manipulate the pins, slowly, testing them out, feeling where their weaknesses were.

It was slow work, but I needed to be concentrating deeply- however, I was constantly worried I would be caught, so I wasn’t having much luck. Ten minutes and 6 broken picks later I was starting to get worried- one, that someone would come along and see what I was doing, and two, that I would run out of lockpicks. I only had 5 left. I started to work again, with a sense of urgency but also an extreme caution. After two more broken picks I finally heard the clicking and sliding of the lock opening, and breathed a deep sigh of relief.

My heart was racing in anticipation, my breath starting to become short. I drew my dagger, and crouched down, preparing to open the door. I tried to look through the keyhole, but it was too dark and I couldn’t get the angle right; so, I slowly twisted the handle down and started push the door open, bit by bit.

Once I could see in the room, I stuck my head in, only to jump back in alarm upon finding that the captain was sitting in a chair not two feet from the door, his back to me. My eyes widened and I leaned against the railing of the balcony, trying to slow my racing heart. I didn’t have much time- the captain was bound to notice the breeze from the open door any second, so I leaned forward and with a silent prayer to the Night Mother, pushed the door open all the way, slipping silently into the room.

I stopped right behind the captain’s chair, the lust for the kill causing a thrill to rise in my stomach, my breath becoming short and excited. In one smooth motion I brought my left hand up to cover his mouth to stifle his scream and brought my dagger to his throat.

“The Night Mother says good-bye,” I whispered softly, and he whimpered, struggling against my grip, pulling on my hands. If someone had been in the room, they would have seen as I drew my blade mercilessly across his throat; they would have seen that as Captain Tussand fell gurgling to the floor, I was wiping my dagger on his tunic indifferently; they would have seen the red gleam in my eyes as I watched the final moments of his life, and they would have heard my soft, dark laughter as he finally gave in to the fate we all share.

Not a moment later, however, there was a banging on the door and voices from outside. I was instantly alert, my body in battle mode, facing the door.

“Captain Tussand, are you alright in there?”
I couldn’t tell how many, but there was definitely more than one man out there. I wasn’t one for multiple persons combat, at least not yet, so I started to panic slightly.

“Captain Tussand we heard some loud noises. Captain we’re coming in there!” I did the only thing I could do- I darted out the door and leapt off the balcony. My last thought before I plunged into the waves was that this probably wasn’t a good way to break in my armor- leather and water don’t mix.

Chapter Six: Unpaid, Undead, and Unusual

The next few weeks at the Sanctuary flew by, full of contracts fulfilled, time spent with at the Sanctuary with the family, and training. I had several contracts, which included staging an accident in Bruma and killing an old friend from the Imperial City Prison. Both I carried out perfectly, earning the offered bonus. I was starting to gain status within the guild, and Vicente had taken to calling me ‘a dark gift from the Night Mother herself’.

The time I spent in the Sanctuary was regularly filled with talks with various members of the family about contracts and rumors- I became rather close with Teinaava, who was very open and friendly. Ocheeva was always very kind as well, but she was much more business-like. Gogron was also very warm, but he couldn’t get through a conversation without sharing a tale of his bloody massacres, or questioning the stealthy methods of the guild. Telaendril was away carrying out duties for Ocheeva most of time, and that left Antoinetta and Mraaj Dar. Mraaj Dar had made his distaste for me known, so I often tried to avoid contact with him. Antoinetta, however, never outright said she disliked me, but she was always very short with me, and often her comments seemed to have a rude or sarcastic feel to them. We just didn’t get along well, and I wasn’t really sure why at the time.

As for all my training; I had a natural talent for the art of assassination, yes, but it still ‘needed to be honed and tuned to maximize my potential’, or so said Teinaava one day when we were discussing advancement within the Brotherhood. So I spent hours and hours in the practice room, never receiving any ‘official’ training from my family members, but I would observe while they went about their separate specialized skills. They would know I was watching and make sure that their movements were clear and deliberate so I could learn from them; but they would never be obvious about it, as to keep me from the disgrace of pleading for help.

And so went life at the Sanctuary. It was a pleasant life, one that I often reflect on and miss dearly in my current state.

I was having a discussion with Teinaava about the organization of the Black Hand and the Brotherhood (which we actually knew very little about, as I was to find out later) when Vicente came into the room.

“Can you give Adrienne and I a moment, Teinaava?” he said, his silky voice showing that he meant no offense.

“Of course, dear brother,” Teinaava responded, bowing his head slightly to Vicente as he walked out of the room. Vicente turned back to me, his tone official.

“I have a special contract that needs fulfillment. In truth, I don't wish to offer it to any other family member. I've come to rely on your abilities. We're usually called upon to take a life, but not this time. This contract requires us to stage the assassination of a marked man. Are you ready?”

“Yes, I'm ready. I accept.”
“Excellent. You must go to the city of Chorrol and break into the house of Francois Motierre. Inside you will find Motierre waiting for you. Do not kill him!”

My eyebrows shot up at this statement- I had never heard the Brotherhood to be one for faked assassinations. We served Sithis, and he demanded souls. I was about to say this when Vicente shook his head, his look telling me to hear him out.

“You see, Francois Motierre is a marked man. He owes a considerable sum to the wrong kind of people. So, they have sent an enforcer to kill him. The enforcer’s name is Hides-His-Heart. Here-” He handed me a silver dagger “-you will use this specially poisoned knife to stage Motierre's death, in the enforcer's presence. Motierre himself will provide more details. This is an unusual contract. Motierre had to make a special arrangement with us before it was approved. I trust in your professionalism.”

“A special arrangement?” I inquired.
“The Dark Brotherhood is not in the business of staging deaths, no matter how much gold is offered. Sithis demands blood, and blood must be paid. In order to accept the contract, we demanded a life. Motierre offered his mother, and we accepted. Lucien has already taken care of that... detail.”

My heart skipped a beat involuntarily at the sound of the Lucien’s name- I had not forgotten him, and still had hopes to see him again soon. I shivered, imagining Lucien fulfilling a contract- I knew by the way he spoke of killing that he enjoyed it immensely. He was rather frightening even when he was being quite kind to you; I could only imagine the fear he could generate in anger. He had a very powerful presence. It would be scary as hell to have him and his intense dark eyes the last thing you would ever see (at the time I did not know how close I would come to experiencing just that)…and I found myself wondering if the victims of my contracts were terrified of me in their last living moments. Probably, I said to myself, and smiled lightly at this pleasing thought.
Vicente cleared his throat, drawing me out of my reverie.

“Anyways, the knife I gave you has been coated with a rare poison called Languorwine. You need only cut Motierre once, and he will appear to die. One drop in a normal human bloodstream will mimic the effects of death immediately. I have provided you with a vial of antidote, which will be used to revive Francois Motierre after you successfully stage his death. You should also know that there's only enough Languorwine on the blade for this one contract. After Motierre is sliced, the knife will be useless. Good luck, dearest sister.”

Vicente gave me a nod, his fangs slipping out of his lips slightly, and he strode from the room. He wasn’t one for small talk, and I soon found out from the others that he wasn’t meaning to be rude when he leaves to abruptly; he was just used to his solitude after all his years as a vampire with no one around him that he had forgotten most of the social habits of normal beings, and saying good bye before ending a conversation was one of them.

I was finishing my meal when Teinaava came back in.
“So, what was all that about? Or can you tell me?” he added with a smile, showing he didn’t mean it in a negative way. I explained my contract to him, and he looked impressed.

“I have never heard of the Dark Brotherhood staging death…but there was a soul claimed for Our Dread Father, so I suppose it isn’t too strange,” he said thoughtfully.

“I was thinking the same thing,” I said, chewing a on my final piece of bread.

“I just hope I don’t accidentally kill Motierre or something- or kill the enforcer…”

“Remember, timing is everything. You need to slash Motierre with the blade in Hides-His-Heart's presence, and then flee before the enforcer can react,” Teinaava said.

I smiled my thanks to him, then drained my goblet and wiped my mouth.

“And Adrienne-” he said as I rose to leave “-this is quite an honor to be chosen for.” His face was earnest and genuine, and I smiled gratefully at him.

We then exchanged the customary farewell of blessings of the Night Mother. I was going to the training room to practice my accuracy for my new contract. When I entered Gogron was in there, whacking away at a dummy with his favorite axe. He seemed to be enjoying himself, so I let him be, heading towards the opposite corner and pulling out my bow. After a couple minutes of firing arrows the racket Gogron had been creating suddenly stopped, and I glanced over at him. He was watching me, shaking his head.

“Why waste your time with that-” he pointed at my bow “-when you could use this-” he held up his axe, which was about the size of my upper torso “- and walk right up to your target and bash their heads in!”

“Gogron…” I groaned, having had this conversation several times. Before he could get wound up, I intervened. “Wait until you hear about my new contract- you’ll absolutely despise it.” He grew silent with curiosity, so I explained the details.

“What? Fake a death? And you can't even kill the enforcer?!” he looked at me in horror, his eyes wide, as I nodded. “I don't envy you, friend. But a contract's a contract. Just do what you've got to do.”

I nodded halfheartedly, over-exaggerating a sigh as he clapped me on the back and left the room. As soon as he was gone I smiled, giving a little laugh. Gogron was always interesting to talk to.

In a much elated mood, I returned to my training, mind working in overdrive about my new contract. It was a disappointment that I wouldn’t get to kill, but it was still a contract nonetheless- and according to Teinaava, I should be proud to have been chosen for it. Vicente had specifically said he didn’t want to give it to anyone else…

After an hour of vigorous training, I walked back to the living quarters to gather my supplies for the trip to Chorrol. I traveled light, wearing basic clothes for the journey and walk around town, while carrying my shrouded armor in my pack. I brought my trusty dagger and bow, with my quiver full of (now all matching) arrows.

I arrived in Chorrol after a day of travel, as I was delayed by several bandits. They were becoming more and more plentiful along the roads, and really were a nuisance. I was in a foul mood when I arrived, and as soon as I entered the city it just got fouler. The city was richer and happier than Cheydinhal had been- everyone strutted around in their fine clothes, smiles plastered to their faces.

I stalked around the town, scowling at any who passed, on the lookout for Motierre’s home. As I entered the center plaza where the Great Oak was, I saw an old smiley woman chatting amiably with an also exceptionally smiley town guard (guards are not supposed to be smiley, it’s just wrong!), and all I wanted to do was cleave their smiley heads from their bodies. The whole atmosphere of the town put me in such a murderous mood with no effort whatsoever. Finally I spotted Motierre’s home.

Just in time, I thought to myself-I don’t know how much longer I would have been to keep from killing someone out here. I opened the door to his house and found the man himself standing with his back to me, muttering. He hadn’t heard me yet, so I closed the door silently and crept up behind him. Motierre sighed and turned so quickly that his nose hit mine before he realized I was there. I jumped back as he staggered in astonishment, gasping.

“Oh! Well... um, hello,” he said, holding his chest as he tried to catch his breath. He’s a jumpy one, I thought. But it was understandable in his situation, I suppose.

- - -
Francois Motierre looked at the assassin with interest- he had to make sure she was the one. He recalled what Lucien Lachance had said of her: ‘Black hair, icy blue eyes… one may call her a pretty girl’ he had said, keeping his tone light. Yes, Francois decided; it was her.

- - -

“You must be the one Lucien Lachance told me about. I've been expecting you” he continued. At the sound of Lucien’s name my head shot up. So, what exactly had he told Motierre about me?

“I borrowed quite a bit of gold from some underworld types.  I... I missed a payment. Now they don't even want the money. They say I insulted them!” he gave a shaky laugh. “They've sent an enforcer to kill me! His name is Hides-His-Heart, and he's on his way here now! That's why I hired you! So you can fake my death!”

“Go on, Motierre. I'm listening.” I said, hiding my impatience as I looked around the house.

“Well, when Hides-His-Heart gets here, I'll put on a little act. You'll cut me with your poison knife, and that vile enforcer will think I'm dead. You must then flee from Chorrol, and Hides-His-Heart must not be killed! That way he can go back and tell his employers I'm dead.” I nodded, and he continued, his voice gaining a bit of confidence. “If you wait a day my ‘body’ will be put on display in the Chorrol Chapel Undercroft. You can come to me then and administer the antidote. Got all that?” I nodded once again.
“Good! Hides-His-Heart will be here any moment. Get ready!” I turned toward the door with him, hearing him mutter “Oh, I do hope this works...”

We both stood facing the door, expectant and ready. However, a minute passed by and nothing happened…then another minute, and another. He started to fidget restlessly, making short tapping noises with his foot, clicking his tongue. I probably would have been annoyed out of my mind by him, had my mind not been somewhere else. I was thinking of how Motierre had said Lucien had told him about me- and how Motierre had known it was I who was the one who was supposed to assist him, without question. I found myself wondering what Lucien had said about my appearance.

“Motierre, what exactly did Lucien Lachance say-”
Just then there was banging on the door, and the voice of an Argonian passed dully through the thick door, posing threats. Motierre’s face turned ashen white, and he gave a little barely concealed squeal of fear. I looked at him with disgust at his cowardice as the door opened and Hides-His-Heart barged in.

“Motierre! I am here to exact payment, in blood! You will... eh? Who is this? The Dark Brotherhood?” he said, sighting me. He smiled wickedly and said “Oh, you have been a naughty boy, Motierre, haven't you?”

“What's this? Oh, Dark Brotherhood assassin, please don't cut me with that wicked blade! It looks like this is the end of poor Francois!” Motierre had to be the worst actor I had ever seen, but Hides-His-Heart wasn’t one to notice such petty things. He leapt forward, trying to push me aside.

“Stand aside, assassin! Motierre is mine! My employers demand it! We'll see who gets to cut you, Motierre! Let me show you how a real killer operates, you Dark Brotherhood mongrel! Defend yourself!”

I darted in front of Hides-His-Heart and, with one deft movement, sliced across Francois’ stomach with the Langourwine Blade, wishing I could have done more. His eyes met mine, and I could see real pain there, before he fell to the floor. I turned to have Hides-His-Heart’s livid face up in mine.

“How dare you-“
I was out the door in a flash, sprinting across the courtyard and out of the city gates, trying to restrain my intense desire to kill someone. Hides-His-Heart gave pursuit, but I lost him in the forest. Exhausted from the effort, I lay down on a high rock and took a much need nap.

When I awoke night had fallen and the stars were out. I was hungry, so I hunted down some deer and resigned myself to the wait. Time passed agonizingly slow as I waited for 24 hours to pass, replaying the day’s events out in my head. I thought of Francois- by Sithis, I hope I hadn’t cut him too deeply! The poison on the blade would fake his death, but if I had cut him too deeply it wouldn’t have to do that… I pushed the thought from my mind as another filled its place.

Francois had said that Lucien had told him about me- he had considered me for a moment, as though recalling a physical description. He was certainly in a situation where he would take every precaution to make sure I was the right person. I found myself wishing fiercely that Hides-His-Heart had not chosen that moment to appear, when I was asking Francois what Lucien’s description of me was. I kicked a branch in frustration. So many people spoke of things they had heard about me, presumably from Lucien, but every time I was close to figuring out what he had said something happened to prevent me from doing so.

I sulked and slept until the next day; I walked back through the town gates in the late afternoon, hearing people speaking of Francois’ death the moment I stepped in.

“Have you heard? Francois Motierre has been murdered by the Dark Brotherhood! I saw the body myself!”

Smiling to myself, pleased that I had helped cause the disruption in the perfect order of the town, I entered the chapel and slipped into the Undercroft unnoticed. It was dark, dank, and muggy, with the smell of the dead filling the air. I found Motierre’s body to the right of the stairs, dressed in a brown robe and shoeless. I leaned over him and carefully poured the antidote that Vicente had given me into Motierre’s slightly open mouth, making sure not to spill a drop.

After a moment he still hadn’t moved, and I was starting to get worried. What if I had sliced him too deep and he been killed from that instead? I thought of his look of pain after I had cut him, and I felt slightly queasy. I was never really sure how deep I could cut him without the knife hurting him... another moment passed, and I was quite alarmed- I hadn’t failed a contract yet, and I certainly didn’t want to start now.

In exasperation I poked him hard in the shoulder, and to my intense but pleasant surprise, his eyes shot open and he muttered “Ow!” indignantly. I gave an inaudible sigh of relief as he sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. His eyes darted around the Undercroft for a moment before resting on me.

“Ah, the Chapel Undercroft” he said. “Now you must take me to the Grey Mare and this nightmare will over.”

I nodded, but he still looked hesitant to move. I raised my eyebrows, gesturing to the door, but he spoke first, hesitantly.

“Ehemm, well, there was something I forgot to mention. All of my family members are buried here, and my removal from it will be seen as a…desecration of their tomb. My ancestors will react most violently to that. Oh look- here they come now! We must hurry!” I turned and saw a zombie staggering towards us, each step making a horrible squelching sound.

“Oh, Aunt Margaret, you are looking worse for the wear!” he exclaimed, as my arrow found a home between her eyes. The zombie fell and did not get up again. As we were heading up the stairs to the door, another zombie came at us, but I decapitated it easily with a casual flick of my wrist. The downside of this was that the bloody guts and nerves came spilling out onto me, covering my armor with the rather smelly stuff. Great- I would have to wash my armor again, I thought. I was really starting to hate leather.

Chapter Seven: The Swamp and the Shadowscale

After escorting Francois Motierre safely to the Grey Mare without any more incidents, I changed out of my Dark Brotherhood armor and into my traveling clothes (I held the black leather away from myself at arms length, wrinkling my nose in disgust before placing it in an empty compartment of my pack). It was rather late to start my journey to Cheydinhal, but it had been a long day and I was looking forward to my warm bed in the Sanctuary.

I arrived back at Cheydinhal just as the sun rose, dead tired and dragging my reluctant feet down the ramp and into the Sanctuary. Everyone was asleep, so I followed their example and dropped into bed, not even bothering to change my clothes. I didn’t wake until early evening. No one was in the Living Quarters, so I started to walk toward the central room, yawning and stretching contently. I opened the door and found Ocheeva and Teinaava sitting a shadowy corner, muttering darkly to each other. As I walked by, intent on letting them have their privacy, Teinaava suddenly seemed to sense my presence and looked up, smiling when he saw me- but it wasn’t his normal warm smile. There was a businesslike air to it, an almost withdrawn look; his mind seemed distracted, something I saw often in Ocheeva, but never in Teinaava.

“Ah, dear friend, may I steal a moment of your time? I have a rather delicate situation I was hoping you could help me with,” Teinaava said. Ocheeva rose, saying that she must go, but Teinaava would explain everything. I watched her walk away briskly, and then looked back at Teinaava.

“This is a personal matter, and will have no bearing on your standing within the Dark Brotherhood. Would you like to hear more?”

“Of course, dear brother-tell me more” I said, trying not to let my voice show my intense curiosity.

“I find your decision most agreeable!” Teinaava laughed, but it seemed rather forced. He was definitely troubled, and I truly hoped that I would be able to help him. “Now, the details. Far south of here, on the southern end of Cyrodiil, lies a swamp called Bogwater. Hiding in that swamp you will find an Argonian Shadowscale named Scar-Tail. Kill this renegade, and bring me his heart as proof of the deed.”

I sat there expectantly, waiting for more details, but Teinaava provided none. “A Shadowscale renegade?” I prompted.

“In the Argonian homeland of Black Marsh, those born under the sign of the Shadow are taken at birth and presented to the Dark Brotherhood. A Shadowscale hatchling is trained in the arts of stealth and assassination, and lives a life in service to the mighty kingdom of Argonia. Any Shadowscale who lives to come of age is accepted into the Dark Brotherhood as a full member of the family. So it was with myself, and Ocheeva,” he responded.

“Oh yes, I remember. It was… Lucien who trained you, no?” I asked. Teinaava only nodded before continuing.

“When Ocheeva and I trained with the Dark Brotherhood as children, we befriended another initiate, a Shadowscale by the name of Scar-Tail. The three of us were inseparable. When our training was completed, we reluctantly parted ways. But now... Now, the unthinkable has happened! Scar-Tail has fled Black Marsh and refuses to fulfill his duties as royal assassin! This is an act of treason! This treachery must be punished! Just as a member of the Dark Brotherhood cannot kill a fellow family member, a Shadowscale is forbidden from slaying another Shadowscale.”

It was now my turn to nod, because I was beginning to understand.
“That is why you must go to Bogwater and eliminate that treacherous snake! Please kill Scar-Tail, so Ocheeva and I can put this matter behind us. Scar-Tail was once as a brother to me and Ocheeva. But his act of treason destroyed any vestige of that relationship. His death will be well-deserved!” he ended with a thunderous yell, hitting the table with his fist. I could tell that he was not as happy about having his former friend killed as he wanted everyone to believe- it was really troubling him, and he was disturbed and distressed by the betrayal.

“I will do this for you, dear brother. With honor,” I gave him an encouraging smile, and Teinaava patted my arm gratefully, before striding off to the Living Quarters. I still had to go to Vicente to report my success and to receive another contract, so I walked off to his room, thinking about Teinaava's situation.

It certainly was a grievous one- to have to order the death of an old friend, someone who he grew up with. Shadowscales sounded familiar to the Dark Brotherhood in that they seemed as though they also became very close, like a family. I thought of Scar Tail's betrayal- why would he ever do something like that? I couldn't even fathom the possibility of ever betraying the Dark Brotherhood. I understood Teinaava's anger, but I could also understand why he would still feel a link to this old friend; why it was hurting him so to have to do this. But that is how life is, I suppose- you have to make difficult decisions, and often you are forced to make the less favorable choice for yourself because it is the right decision. I shook my head slightly before knocking on Vicenete's door.

Vicente was sitting at a desk, scribbling away with a large quill when I came in. I caught a glimpse of what he was writing before he slipped it into his desk; it was a letter to Ocheeva. He gave me a questioning look and I nodded that I had succeeded in my contract. He smiled up at me, his fangs slipping out of his lips.

“Ah, so Motierre has escaped? Well done! As payment, I am pleased to award you this amulet, Cruelty's Heart, as well as another advancement in rank. I hereby bestow upon you the title of Eliminator. Your blood is cold, your heart hard. You exemplify everything the Dark Brotherhood stands for. I present to you now this key. It unlocks the well behind the Abandoned House above. Use it to gain hidden, quick access to this Sanctuary.” I stood before him, glowing with pride.

“It is an honor, dear brother,” I said, bowing my head slightly, qutie flustered. Another promotion? To Eliminator? Already? I waited further orders, but instead Vicente gave a curt nod and started to turn away, signaling me (not rudely) to leave. I was quite confused.

“Wait! Don’t you have another contract for me?” I said, raising my voice after him. He turned back, and his face seemed pained.

“Well now, you are an ambitious one, aren't you? I'm afraid I have no more contracts for you. Our time working together has come to an end. Instead, you must report to Ocheeva, here in the Sanctuary. She will be providing all your contracts from now on, and is waiting for you as we speak,” he said, keeping his voice light.

My eyes widened in surprise- most of the Sanctuary members still worked for Vicente. They had been here for years, and nearly everyone had barely reached the rank of Eliminator. I wasn’t quite sure what to say, but Vicente understood, not expecting anything.

“Before you go, however, I intend to make good on an offer I made some time ago. As a vampire, I may pass my gift on to others as I see fit. You have served me well, and I choose now to extend that gift to you. Shall I use my dark powers and turn you into a vampire?”

I visibly started, having forgotten about his comment ages ago about turning those he felt worthy into a vampire. I never thought that I would have to deal with such occasion. I knew that I would never want to be a vampire; I may enjoy the night, embrace it, appreciate it during a kill, but would never want to be confined to it. I also found the look of vampires to be quite repulsive; the gaunt, pale faces, razor sharp fangs and red eyes were not something I found attractive. However, I didn’t want to offend Valtieri.
“No, not right now, thank you,” I said carefully.

“I can understand your trepidation. For it is not everyday one is invited to join the ranks of the undead, eh? If you ever change your mind, fear not. My offer will always be open. Simply return and speak to me about the Dark Gift, and we can proceed.”

This time it was I who nodded and left the room, still rather stunned. I walked up the stairs and towards Ocheeva’s room, but lingered just outside her door for a moment, gathering my thoughts. I had already been ‘promoted’ up to the highest rank of anyone here, except for Vicente and Ocheeva, and I had only been here for a few short months. I was proud, but also alarmed in a way; I was scared that some of my family members would turn against me because of my quick progression through the ranks. How had I progressed so quickly? Was I really that much better than everyone here? No, I thought to myself. By Sithis, they have taught me nearly everything I know! And yet... no one else had risen a single rank since I had arrived, while I have shot straight up to the highest standing in the Sanctuary, other than Ocheeva and Vicente. I had never really thought about my standing in the guild, had never really taken time to sit back and realize that my progression in the guild really was quite extraordinary. I sighed lightly, pushing the thoughts from my mind- there were other more important matters that I should be spending my time pondering- like this traitorous Shadowscale, Scar Tail. I suddenly remembered where I was, and why I was there- I had been ordered to speak with Ocheeva! Without further ado I knocked firmly on Ocheeva’s thick doors.

She answered promptly, ushering me in and shutting the door behind me.
“Hello, sweet Sister. It warms my heart to see you again. The Night Mother has been smiling upon you, I hope.”

I nodded, smiling in return. She then described my first contract under her order- a skooma addicted Altmer, to be killed in the Imperial City discreetly, due to the meddling of the Imperial Officer Addamus Phillida. However, I remained distracted throughout her description, thinking of Teinaava’s unofficial contract. Ocheeva saw that I was distant and preoccupied.

“Is there something troubling you, dearest sister?” she said, narrowing her eyes inquisitvely as she looked into mine. I started to reply that I was fine, thank you, but changed my mind suddenly.

“Actually, yes,” I said quickly. Her eyebrows rose, prompting me to continue. “It has to do with the renegade Shadowscale, Scar Tail..."

“Ah.” Ocheeva’s face darkened considerably, and her voice became harsh. “Scar-Tail is a traitor to Argonia, and a blight upon Tamriel! Kill him, as my brother requests, and we will be forever in your debt.”

“Of course, dearest sister,” I said, reassured that Ocheeva felt so strongly about the kill- Teinaava hadn’t seemed so.

"Teinaava says that you and him spent most of your early lives with together, and that Scar Tail was a close friend?" I said carefully.

"What he says is true. All our lives Teinaava and I have lived together in the shadows. We are egg mates. Twins. We were taken at birth, along with the traitor, Scar Tail, and given to the Dark Brotherhood. We returned to Black Marsh as Shadowscales, trained in the arts of stealth and murder. Together we served our nation as spies and assassins, as all Shadowscales do. When we came of age, the three of us joined the family as one. Teinaava and I were sent here, to Cyrodiil, to serve the Dark Brotherhood, while Scar Tail remained in the Argonian Royal Court. Now he has betrayed them...I shall never understand it," she finished, looking quite somber.

"I will make sure that this traitor shall receive justice for his treachery, dearest sister," I said defiantly. "May Sithis guide your blade!" Ocheeva responded, and we bade each other farewell.

* * *

I started my journey south the next morning, after another long night's rest. I decided to carry out Teinaava's contract before the official Dark Brotherhood hit because it felt more urgent; a skooma-addict wasn't about to be capable of disappearing as easily as a trained assassin. At least that was the reasoning I was trying to convince myself I using... but deep down I knew it really wasn't. Truthfully, I just wanted to solve Teinaava's problem as quickly as possible- he had done so much for me, as had most of the Sanctuary, and I wished to do something in return. He was family, my most trusted brother. It was time I repaid the kindness he had shown me, in the way I knew best- murder.

After three rather moist and humid days, I finally reached Leyawiin. It was a rather dilapidated town, wet and muddy. The homes were of a smooth clay, colored in red, green, and yellow- rather uncharacteristic of Cryodiil; the influence of the South was evident. All the citizens seemed to be Khajiits or Argonians, and they weren't dressed nearly as luxuriously as those in Cheydinhaal or Chorrol. They seemed more like the members of the Waterfront, all starving and desperate. I certainly found Leyawiin more to my liking than either of those towns, but the constant downpour was a deterrent for a permanent residence.

I stayed in town for one night just to get out of the bloody rain for awhile. In the short time I was there, a pickpocket was arrested, a brawl took place in the bar of the Inn I stayed at, and the body of a beggar was discovered in the gutter outside the ruined Blackwood Company building. Never a dull moment, eh?

The morning I left it was foggy and, surprisingly enough, raining. I spent three hours lost in the swamps, as my compass wouldn't work- it got too wet. Finally, I emerged in a clearing, smelly and grumpy, to a beautiful sight- a campfire smoke above the treeline. I was near his campsite. Taking a deep, calming breath, I started to prepare myself for a kill. It was dusk, and the fireflies and crickets were out in full force. I was strapping my dagger to my waist when I heard the snapping of a twig behind me. I spun, and found my nose inches from the red and green face of an Argonian. I leapt back about two feet but didn't reach for my dagger- I was dressed as a simple traveler, and I may still be able to deceive him into thinking I was just that.

The Argonian held up a weary hand, as though signaling me to stand down. I took a closer look at him and found that he looked as though he hadn't slept in ages, and his clothes were torn and bloodied. Someone had beaten me to him.

"I guess I've been expecting you... assassin." I started visibly, my mind working rapidly to deny the accusation convincingly. "Don't try to deny it," he continued, carefully studying my reaction with a look of weary amusement. "I can see it in your eyes. You're Dark Brotherhood, through and through."

That certainly surprised me. I thought myself a passable actress- in past contracts I was able to convince others that I was innocent. But as he gave me a knowing smile, I realized with a start that recently people in towns had kept their distance from me, that they seemed guarded near me; almost...wary of me. Was it that obvious? Was my mask that thin?

I thought of other members of the Brotherhood. The first time I had seen Lucien Lachance, with just a glance of his dark intense eyes, I could tell he was a murderer. I thought of Ocheeva, Teinaava, Vicente...they all had the eyes of a cold-blooded killer, pitiless and merciless. My transformation had been so gradual that even I hadn't seen what was happening. I was a full-fledged member of the Dark Brotherhood, I realized. It was everything about me, my life, my very soul.

I sighed and returned Scar Tail's look sardonically. His smile widened.
"Let me guess- it was Ocheeva, right?" he said, but I cocked my head, my look indicating him to guess again. "No, wait. Teinaava," he said slowly, his voice confident. I nodded.

"Yes, it was he who put you up to this, didn't he... Ocheeva was always too busy to even be bothered." He certainly knew them well- if there had been any question as to his identity before, there wasn't now. "Well, you can kill me if you like. I'm afraid I won't make much of a challenge, though. The Argonian Royal Court already sent an Agent to do the job." Ah, I thought. So that explained the blood. "He failed, of course. His body's around here somewhere. But he got in a pretty good hit. If I don't get some rest I'm probably dead anyway." By the look of him, I had to agree. "So maybe I can appeal to your sense of good will, huh?" I raised my eyebrows. He laughed, "Hahahaha. You let me live, and I'll tell you where I stashed my treasure. Is it a deal?"

I thought quickly- truthfully, I didn't want to kill him just yet. He had a personality, a affable personality, and there was still some things I wanted to ask him... "Sure. It's a deal," I said.

He looked genuinely surprised, startled at my decision. He gave me a disbelieving look.

"You show unexpected mercy. For that, I am thankful," I nodded my head shortly, and he continued. "My treasure is hidden in a hollowed-out rock near my campfire. It' yours," he said lightly. There was a silence, and we both began to speak at the same time.
"Now-"

"I have-" We stopped and looked at each other, waiting for the other to speak. "You have allowed me to live," he said, after a second of staring. "The least I can do is allow you to speak first."

"Well, I have a question for you," I said slowly, cautiously. He looked at me expectantly. "Why did you leave? How could you leave your family like that?" I finished hastily, anxious to see his reaction to the rather personal question.

He took a deep breath, and looked out over my shoulder, his eyes far away. He sat like this for a moment, and I was afraid that I had angered or offended him. But he spoke again, his voice low and soft.

"I have spent my entire life as an assassin, I was born into it, a Shadowscale. I daresay Teinaava and Ocheeva have spoken of this? At first, the thrill of a kill was intoxicating, it was all I had, all I needed... But as the years passed, and all of my fellow members, my friends, started dying... The Brotherhood consumes you, it takes everything from you- your 'ormal'life, your sense of morality, your humanity, and finally those you come to love. Oh yes, love,"he said, responding to the disbelieving look on my face.

"Assassins can be capable of love, but they themselves may not even realize it. That's what separates the life-long assassins from those who are temporary. The life-long assassin forgets how to feel for anything or anyone. They become truly heartless; all they enjoy, all they ever feel is the ecstasy of murder. It is a long and tortuous process, to become this way, and one I would rather not endure. I'm a temporary," he said.

Now, looking back, I wish I had considered his reasons for leaving, that I had understood why he had left, and heeded his words. And I wish I had followed his lead. But I didn't.

There was a moment of awkward silence before Scar Tail continued, his voice lighter.

"Oh yes, I suppose that Teinaava wants proof that I am dead, eh?" I took that to mean the previous subject was closed. "Let me guess- my heart? I suggest you take the heart of the dead Argonian Agent. His body is around here somewhere. Present the Agent's heart to Teinaava as proof, and he'll be none the wiser. I need to rest now, regain my strength. Farewell, assassin," he turned away and strode off towards his campsite, I followed him. When he reached his lean-to and fire, he started to prepare himself to sleep, while I strode over to the hollow rock and retrieved his treasure. It wasn't much, but it was something.

Turning back to Scar Tail, I saw he was shirtless and about to lean down onto his sleeping pad. And suddenly I knew I was going to kill him, even though for a moment I had intended not to. But I realized that I did not wish to lie to Teinaava, that I had promised him I would ease his heart and solve this problem, and I would do anything for my family (well, at least most of the members). It was a pity, but even though Scar Tale was a likable person, he was still a traitor. And for that, I thought to myself, he did deserve to die.

I slipped my dagger out silently and started to quietly step toward Scar Tail's bare back, the now familiar kill-lust adrenaline rushing through my veins. In one swift, deft motion, I slid the dagger across his throat and dug in. He fell to his side, clutching his neck and gurgling incoherently. He looked into my eyes, his look almost amused.

"Haha... I should have... seen that coming..." he choked out, each word taking immense effort. "Dark Brotherhood... through and through...eh?". And he took a final warbling breath before slumping to the ground, blood streaming steadily from his open neck.

* * *

I returned to the Sanctuary three days later, after dealing with the skooma addicted Altmer in the Imperial City. When I arrived at the Sanctuary was empty accept for a sleeping Valtieri, so I head back out for the day to buy, sell and repair my equipment. Since joining the Dark Brotherhood, I had been saving most of the money I had received for contracts. There wasn't really anything I was saving it for, but it was nice to know I had it, in case I ever needed it. Luck favors the prepared, they say.

That night I went back to the Sanctuary to find that everyone was present- a rare occurrence. I greeted everyone (minus Antoinetta and M'raaj Dar) and chatted amiably for a few moments before excusing myself and setting off for Ocheeva's room. I took a deep breath, untied the pouch on my belt containing the heart of Scar Tail, and knocked firmly on the thick doors.

"Who is it?" Ocheeva's voice dully reverberated through doors.
"Adrienne," I responded.

"Oh, do come in!" and Teinaava hastily opened a door, beckoning me in.
"So? Do you come with news of the Traitor?" Teinaava asked hurriedly. I held up the pouch. Teinaava gave me a quick glance before taking the small bag and opening it slowly. It stank of decaying flesh, and the buzz of flies surrounded it. Teinaava inspected the heart, poking and prodding. His face was passive, but I could see a dull pain in his eyes.

"Yes! That is an Argonian heart, of that I am sure! You have slain Scar-Tail! Well done!"

Ocheeva leaned back in her chair, heaving a great sigh, as though a heavy burden had been lifted. Teinaava smiled, and I could see some of the mischievous glint returning to his eyes already.

"Please, take these boots as payment for your services!" He strode over to a crate in the corner of the room and removed a pair of boots. They were leather, and looked ordinary enough. "They are called the Boots of Bloody Bounding, and carry a powerful enchantment. I'm sure you will find them most useful..."

"Thank you, dearest brother," I said earnestly. His and Ocheeva's relief would have truly been enough reward, I thought to myself.

"No, thank you," he said seriously, looking me straight in the eye.

I smiled at both of them and turned to leave. However, as I reached the door Teinaava grabbed my arm.
"Wait," he said.
I turned back to look at him, my glance questioning.

“Did he... did you talk to him at all?" he said, his gaze downward, as though ashamed of showing such emotion toward the fate of a traitor. I thought of what Scar Tail had said; "Assassins can be capable of love, but they themselves may not even realize it."

"No... no, I killed him well he slept," I responded, and Teinaava sighed.
"Thank you, once again dearest sister," he said. "Thank you."
I nodded, and left the room, leaving them to their privacy.

Chapter Eight: Whodunit Part I

“I would have eliminated all of his subjects, and then chopped his body to pieces!”

Teinaava, Telaendril and I sighed exasperatedly, rolling our eyes in amusement. We were sitting across from Gogron at the square in the Living Quarters, and I had been telling them of my latest contract. I was sent to kill the warlord ‘Roderick’ from the west, who was bedridden by severe illness. I had switched his daily medicine with a poison, causing everyone to think he succumbed to his disease, with none the wiser that the Dark Brotherhood had even been involved. Gogron gro Bolmog was giving his opinion on how things should have gone.

“His people were intensely loyal to him- your obvious involvement with his death would have sent them on a revenge hunt for us, endangering the whole of the Brotherhood!” Telaendril exclaimed reasonably.

“Then I would have killed them as well! All of them!” he roared, pounding his heavy first on the table, rattling the goblets, plates and silverware, an almost sadistic glare in his eye. Once again the three of us exchanged bemused looks, each wondering how Gogron had not yet single-handedly caused the destruction of the Dark Brotherhood with his unorthodox ways.

“Now listen, Gogron-” Teinaava began, but Gogron wasn’t paying attention; he was looking over Teinaava’s shoulder.

“Excuse me.”
Turning, we found Ocheeva standing behind Telaendril, Teinaava and I. We all greeted her, and she responded with a quick smile, but the air of business was about her. She looked at me.

“Adrienne, could you come with me for a moment? It is rather urgent,” she said. “Of course.” I nodded to the others, and followed Ocheeva up the stairs towards her private quarters. In the Common Room we passed Antoinetta Marie, who smiled at Ocheeva as she passed. However, as soon as Ocheeva could not longer see her, Antoinetta narrowed her eyes at me, a slight sneer on her face. I responded with a bright smile and continued on, enjoying the startled and confused look on her face.

Antoinetta’s hatred of me had become more apparent after my promotion to Eliminator- I outranked her, even though she had been at the Sanctuary many years longer than I, and she didn’t like it. She had hated me before, but when before she would make a snide remark that could be interpreted as negative; she now blatantly revealed to me her wishes that I was killed in horrific ways. However, she made sure to keep her gestures of dislike towards me out of the eyes and ears of our family members, and I wasn’t about to tell them, so our feud remained a secret. I wa