Tip of the Blade

[punkin_head]

Hi everyone. This is my first story. It follows Shaderael, my Bosmer assassin. Any critizism is appreciated, just don't be too harsh .




Chapter 1

A shadow amongst shadows moves across the street of the Cloud district of Whiterun. Dagger in hand, he opens the door of the Temple of Kynareth. His target, a Stormcloak rebel that had lived through a battle, and was being held in the Temple being treated for his wounds. Ever so slowly, the shadow creeps up to the cot and places his left hand above the man's mouth. With one quick thrust, the blade sinks into the man between the second and third ribs as his hand clamps over the man's mouth. The soldier’s eyes shoot open only to slowly close. The last image he sees is his attacker’s expressionless face staring back at him. The assassin backs out of the room and disappears into the night.



“Shaderael!” Nazir said as he approached the Bosmer. “Another perfect kill, the Dread Father will be pleased” he said smiling. “I will be more pleased with the gold you owe me” Shaderael replied smiling. Nazir laughed heartily, “That I do my friend.”

Two hundred and fifty gold was not a bad haul to kill a wounded soldier. “Whenever you get rested I have another contract for you” Nazir told him. “I’ll never rest with the amount of people wanting others dead,” Shaderael replied. “This one should prove challenging. The mark is a noble visiting the Blue Palace in Solitude” the redguard told him. “I’ll take it,” Shaderael said “I am going to get some rest, then I will set out.”

Chapter Two

Shaderael slid out of his cot, and padded across the room to gather his supplies. What would he need? His armor of course and a set of regular clothes to fit in with everyone else, next would be his weapons. Since his target would be inside, his bow was out of question. A pair of daggers would be perfect. He picked up his set of Daedric daggers and slid them into his pack. Next was food: walking to the kitchen, he grabbed a few loaves of bread, salted pork strips, and a fresh skin of water. He brought the items to his pack and placed them in, he hefted it and felt its weight. Not too bad, so he set out, letting Nazir know he was on the trail.

As he left the Sanctuary, he knelt down and prayed to Hircine. He asked to find his prey quickly and to help make his kill quick and precise. He began the long trek to Markarth. He definitely didn’t want to walk all the way to Solitude, so he would catch a carriage and ride in leisure. “Good morning Wood Elf,” said the carriage driver, smiling “where to?” “Solitude sir,” Shaderael replied. “Ah, home to the legion! It’s also the capitol of Skyrim you know,” the driver said, trying to make small talk.

After a few hours of listening to the driver talk about random facts of Skyrim, they finally pulled up to the Solitude stables. Shaderael paid the man and trekked up the hill to the main gates. Since his victim was at the Blue Palace, he began walking past the shop keepers. He ran into all kinds of strange people. One Argonian offered him a job, guaranteeing that there would be plenty of gold to be had. Children ran past him yelling “Tag you’re it!” After walking some distance he reached the palace. Walking in, he began looking for his quarry. Nazir told him he would be looking for an Imperial with dark brown hair. He would be very, very loud and talkative. It didn’t take long to spot him. Shaderael actually heard him before sight. Watching from a distance, he saw the man guzzle down at least four tankards of mead. Pretty soon the very inebriated man went to the restroom. This was his moment.

He followed the man into a long corridor and watched as he entered the room. Shaderael noticed that no guards patrolled this area right now. Quickly, he closed his eyes and lowered his head, praying once more to Hircine. The man walked out of the room and came his way. Pulling his dagger, Shaderael slid behind a pillar. The man walked past, tilting as he did so. In one fluid motion, Shaderael grabbed the man’s mouth with his left hand and drove the dagger into the man’s lower back. The serrated blade ripped, and sawed the precious organs in its way. The man began to fall, and Shaderael leaned him against the wall. He touched his forehead his targets, whispering a prayer to Sithis to take this man and welcome him into the Void.

“Murderer!” screamed a guard as he ran down the hallway. Shaderael cursed under his breath, pulled the dagger out of the noble, and sent it flying toward the guard. The blade sunk into the flesh in the gap between where the guards’ helmet stopped and his cuirass began. “Oomph” was the guard’s last sound as his head was ripped backwards, flipping him onto the ground. Shaderael ran down the corridor looking for an exit. The only thing he could find was a window. Guards began to search and one spotted him. Shaderael cursed again and backed up. He grabbed a chair and threw it against the window, shattering it. He yelled and jumped out.

Hitting hard, he rolled onto his back. His ribs were broken, that much he knew. Internal organs? He couldn’t tell if any were damaged, and he didn’t have time to find out. On his feet as swift as he could, he bolted for the gates. One foolish guard tried to stop him. Shaderael sliced his throat as he ran past, not missing a beat. Through the gates he crashed. Jumping into the carriage, he ordered the driver to go. Pulling into Falkreath, he paid the man for the ride and walked out into the woods. He searched for the skull door, literally being his Sanctuary. Finding it, he breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped in and silently thanked the Night Mother and Dread Father for protecting him.

The next installment will be out pretty soon. Hoped you enjoyed it .

 

[Aeri Shadow]

This is good ! My only gripe with it is probably the dialogue. You start a new paragraph after a new person starts speaking, right?

Something like :

Two hundred and fifty gold was not a bad haul to kill a wounded soldier. “Whenever you get rested I have another contract for you” Nazir told him.
“I’ll never rest with the amount of people wanting others dead,” Shaderael replied.
“This one should prove challenging. The mark is a noble visiting the Blue Palace in Solitude” the redguard told him.
“I’ll take it,” Shaderael said “I am going to get some rest, then I will set out.”



Other than that little snippet, really really good stuff. Keep it up.

 

[punkin_head]

thanks! yeah sorry about the dialogue. working on chapters 3 through five now. will definately keep my grammar in check

 

[Aeri Shadow]

Haha. Alright. I'm eager to read more

 

[punkin_head]

Tip of the Blade

Chapter 3

Walking down the slight incline, Shaderael felt relief wash over him. He hated close calls. Being an assassin was about stealth, and guile. Not having every guard in the city hunting for your head.

Walking over to Nazir, he could tell he was less than pleased. “Well you killed the mark, unfortunately most of Solitude is on the lookout for a murderous Bosmer. What happened?” Nazir asked.

Shaderael told him of the kill, the guard witnessing it, and of his escape. He prepared to get chewed out.

“That is an un-blooded mistake my friend,” Nazir informed him. “You know damn-well we don’t kill recklessly. Did you even take the time to know your surroundings? To know the mark? To be effective, we need to know the victim better than they know themselves. You have been here since Rain’s Hand! It’s Last Seed now. You should not be making such simple mistakes. It could have cost you your life. . .” he trailed off. “Why are you favoring your ribs?” Nazir asked.

“Took a tumble out of a window,” Shaderael explained. “May have a few broken ribs.”

“Ha!” Nazir bellowed. “Perhaps that will teach you a lesson. Take. Your. Time. Go see Babette. Maybe she has a potion that can help the healing process.” Off he went to find an immortal vampiric child to heal his injuries. Walking up to Babette he said “Babette, I need your assistance.”

“What have you done this time Shady?” she inquired.

“Broken ribs, maybe internal damage. And don’t call me Shady” he told her.

“That is no way to talk to your elders” she joked as she touched his ribs.

“And just how many years are you my elder Babette?” Shaderael asked as he winced.

“Hmm, how old are you?” she inquired.

“Nineteen,” he replied.

“Well then. About two hundred and eighty years your elder” she smiled. “The good news is you don’t have any other injuries. Just the broken ribs. Take this potion and don’t take any more contracts for the next few weeks.”

Shaderael smiled and said, “Will do grandma.” Babette bared her fangs and hissed as he laughed and limped away.



Chapter 4

Shaderael winced. He had twisted in his sleep, and a shot of pain woke him up. He slowly stood up and walked to the dining room. Veezara was already awake, eating a mammoth steak. “Good morning brother,” he said.

“And to you my friend” Shaderael replied. “I hope you slept better than I.”

“I’m sure I did. How do your ribs feel?” Veezara asked.

“I can manage” Shaderael answered. “It’s the weeks of nothing that are starting to cloud my mind.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about the boredom. Nazir told me last night that Astrid was going to test four new recruits today. Should they pass, you will be in charge of training them.” Veezara explained.

“Is Nazir sure?” Shaderael asked. “I just had my first kill two months ago. I just became blooded and he wants me to train a bunch of un-blooded?”

“I think it is a matter of convenience more than skill” the lizard said. “You have to remain in the Sanctuary for at least six weeks, and these recruits need training. It fits in perfectly.” He explained.

“Well the pieces do fit. Maybe we will have some talented un-bloods in the mix,” Shaderael said.

The day went on with Shaderael passing the hours polishing his gear, and doing the menial tasks that needed to be done. He had just sat down when he heard Astrid’s voice float down the tunnel that led to the Sanctuary. He grumbled to himself as he stood, pain shooting through his torso. He watched as Astrid led the new group into the large room, staring at different places as they walked. His brow furrowed as he began to count them. Five. One more than planned. It was no big deal, but being in the assassination business tended to make him upset when things did not go as planned.

He walked to the giant pool in the middle of the room and checked his reflection, no need to look shabby. He looked like any other Wood Elf you would see, lean with red hair pulled back into a small pony tail. Except for two identifiable marks. He had a row of scars along his left cheek from trying to get a small bear to follow him when he was a child. The other mark was his eyes. His pupils were a brilliant white, which scared him sometimes. He was terrified that in the midst of darkness, someone may be able to see two bright spheres staring at them, letting them know that someone was there. Content with his looks, he walked over to the group of his current and future brothers and sisters.





Chapter 5

“This is the Sanctuary. This is where we stay, have conversations, and prepare for contracts. To your left is the forge. It has everything you need if you prefer to make your own equipment,” Astrid said “My husband Arnbjorn runs the forge but ask for his permission and it is yours to use. Straight back to the left is the entrance to the common area. It has an alchemy table and an enchanting altar. It also houses Gabriella’s pet frostbite spider, so beware. To the right of it is the dining room and kitchen. That is self-explanatory. After that is the quarters. Your beds have been prepared, however it is up to you to figure out who gets which. I will hand out the specialty contracts, the ones that require finesse and skill. The Redguard to my right is Nazir. I will leave you in his company while I run ‘errands’.” Astrid finished with a wicked grin.

“I am Nazir. I deal with the regular assignments. I am the one to come to if you need help, or information. However there is something you should know.” He told them. “You are un-bloods. That means you have not been trained, and have not made a kill. Until you have finished your training and completed an assignment, you will remain and un-blood.”

“Who will train us?” asked a Dunmer.

“Shaderael, step up” Nazir ordered. Shaderael stepped up to the left Nazir. “This is Shaderael. He is our newest member, just becoming blooded two months ago. Unfortunately, due to his incompetence, he was injured on his last contract and is not allowed to fulfill another until he is well. Now I will let him get to know you all and will see you at dinner.” With that Nazir left them to the young elf.

“Hi everyone as you now know, my name is Shaderael. I will be your instructor. You may think you know how to kill someone. But you don’t. I will teach you the right way. Now, follow me if you will.” Shaderael led them around to the dining room and sat down. Now that he got a look at them, he tried to pick up everything about them. Taking Nazir’s advice, he studied them.

To his immediate right was a make Khajiit. He had grey fur, with tufts of black. Along his wide, cat-like nose were three scarred over claw marks. This let him know he was a fighter.

“What’s your name?” he asked the khajiit.

“D’Jango sir” he replied.

“First, it is nice to meet you. Second, there is no need to call me sir. I am, after all, only a few years older than you. Just know that I am in charge and that will be enough." The khajiit grinned and looked towards the others. There was no way that the cat was more than sixteen years old. Astrid must have seen great promise in this one to recruit so young.

To the right of the khajiit was a male dunmer. To his right was a female dunmer, of almost the same looks. Both had the same facial features, and the same bright red eyes. It was almost like looking into a ruby, or garnet.

“Are you two related?” Shaderael asked them. They both nodded yes and the male said:

“Yes. My name is Killian, and this is my twin sister Kura. We are both eighteen.” Killian said.

“Good to know, and nice to meet both of you” Shaderael replied. To his immediate left was a beautiful bosmer, no older than he was. She had blonde hair that was shoulder length with a braid down the left side. What caught his attention were her eyes. They were dazzling blue, truly beautiful to look at. Realizing he was just staring at her, he asked what her name was.

“Florendial,” she replied “but everyone just calls me Flo.”

“Nice to meet you Flo” he said back.

The last to greet was an argonian. He had deep red scales, almost black, with a brighter tinge on the edges of them. With yellow eyes, and rows of spikes down his chin and along his head, he was a menacing sight.

“And what is your name?” he asked the young argonian.

“Swift-with-Blade,” he mumbled.

“I am sorry?” Shaderael asked, trying to discern what the young lizard said.

“Swift-with-Blade,” he replied louder, “but you can call me Swift for short.”

“It is nice to meet you Swift. And to all of you, welcome to our dark little family. I encourage you to meet with the other members of the Brotherhood and deal with the living situation. Class will begin tomorrow at dawn.” With that Shaderael left them to their own devices. He went to the forge to craft a new dagger, since he left his other one buried in the neck of a Solitude guard. He chatted with Arnbjorn and then went to see Babette for another healing potion.

“Another potion Shady?” she asked him.

“Yes and I told you to stop calling me that” he replied.

“Elder” she said in a sing-song voice.

“Bite me” he told her.

“Don’t tempt me” she said and they both giggled, which hurt a little. He grinned and left to go to sleep.

 

[punkin_head]

Chapter 6

Shaderael woke up just before dawn. He drank a healing potion and put on his armor, being careful with his cuirass. He walked into the un-bloods room and yelled at them to wake up, laughing as they fell out of their cots and prepared for a fight. With that he went to eat breakfast and waited for them to file in. They had their meals and Shaderael looked them over once more. The dunmer twins would probably stick to magic, so he may have to get Festus and Gabriella to help with them. Flo, being a bosmer, would most likely stick to archery, which was his specialty. D’Jango and Swift would probably stick to daggers or swords, which he could manage. If he couldn’t, then he would get Veezara to help.

After they had eaten he led them to Arnbjorn. He took their measurements for their Shrouded Armor. After he had what he needed, Shaderael led them outside.

“What do we do out here?” D'Jango asked.

“We are going for a run” Shaderael replied. All five of them groaned out loud. “Lesson number one: stay in shape. This job is demanding, physically and mentally. I had to run and jump out of a window, two stories up. If I had not been in good standing, I would probably have died. Getting stabbed in the back while running away is not a glorious death.” He explained. “So we will take it easy and only run a mile.”

After their little jog, he led them inside the Sanctuary to learn the weapons they would be using. He led them to the center of the room and sat down, instructing them to sit in front of him.

“Alright, one of the most important things to know is what weapons you all will be using.” He explained, “Which sounds preferable to you? Ranged combat, close quarters, or magic?”

D'Jango spoke up first, “Close quarters.”

Swift followed suit, “Close quarters for me also, and I would like to know how to make poisons.”

Kura and Killian looked at each other and replied together, “Magic.” ‘No surprise there,’ thought Shaderael.

“I would like to use ranged and close quarters.” Flo said.

Shaderael thought to himself for a second. “This is how your schedules will work. Just as you went to school as a child, you will go to school now. Every morning at dawn, you will wake and eat breakfast. After that, we run. Then you will have classes with me about our Dread Father Sithis, and our glorious Night Mother. Next will be anatomy class with Babette. You will learn where to strike and know every part of the body that will take a target down. After will be lunch. Then you will each pair up with one of the blooded members, depending on which skills you will be learning. D'Jango, you will pair up with me or Veezara for close quarter’s combat training. Your choice.”

“How long will we train?” D'Jango asked.

“About two hours. It may seem like allot but it will fly by.” Shaderael replied.

“Swift,” he continued “You will meet with me or Veezara for one hour, and Babette for one hour for close quarter’s combat and alchemy. Flo, you will train with me for one hour for ranged combat and with Veezara for close quarters. Killian and Kura, you will train with Festus and Gabriella for two hours a day. After your training with weapons, or magic, we will then move on to stealth. Moving quietly can be a matter of life and death. Learn it right, and you will be invisible. The rest of the night you will have to yourself to learn what you wish. Talk to the other members, eat, sleep, the time is yours to do with what you please.”

What Shaderael had failed to mention is that he had not had the permission of the other members to help with the un-bloods training.

Talking to Veezara had not been a problem. He had no qualms with helping them learn. Babette was fine with the notion of teaching alchemy to an aspiring student. Festus and Gabriella took a little work. Eventually they agreed and it was all set.

Shaderael called the un-bloods together and told them that tomorrow the training would start for real. He apologized for not training them today, but he had wasted most of the daylight begging his brothers and sisters to help him teach their new siblings. Finally night rolled around and Shaderael laid in bed, wondering how he would teach so many things to his pupils. He had a feeling that the Night Mother and Dread Father would help out; after all he was training them to carry out the wondrous work of their Dread Parents. Their goal would be to send souls to the Dread Father and fill the Void to the brim. He smiled at the thought and drifted off to sleep.



Chapter 7

“Different bows have different draws. Meaning that drawing the string of a long or hunting bow will be easier than drawing an orcish or Daedric bow.” Shaderael explained to Flo, “However sometimes the heavy bows are better. They have a higher draw weight, so they have more power. Now we are going to practice. Now pick up your bow and watch me.” Shaderael pick up his Daedric bow and selected an arrow out of the quiver on his back. Nocking the arrow, he drew back. The muscles straining as he pulled the heavy string back to his ear. Aiming carefully, he released and the arrow went flying to contact the target right in the bulls-eye. “Now it is your turn,” he said smiling. Flo selected an elven bow and brought the string back. She breathed out and sent the arrow down field, just inches above his. He let out a low whistle, admiring the accuracy. Then he thought of a tip, “Oh, and the arrow tends to rise once it’s releases. So the closer you are, the more down you need to aim to be more accurate. It goes the opposite way with distance. The arrow will drop the further in the air it is, due to gravity. So if you aim very far away, then aim up to be more accurate.” She looked confused, so he tried to explain. “There is no real way of knowing exactly where the arrow will hit, so it is pretty much guessing. If I aim way over there, I need to aim up to hit my target; because of arrow drop. If I aim up close, then I aim down; because of arrow jump.”

“I still don’t understand,” she told him.

“Well, we will work on it more tomorrow. Grab your daggers.” He told her. D'Jango and Swift approached with their equipment. He had been training them for a week, and they were slowly making progress.

“Today you are going to learn how to throw a knife. Sometimes it may be necessary to throw the knife you have, if someone is coming at you fast and you need to stop them.” Shaderael pulled his Daedric dagger out of the sheathe on his lower back. It was a design Veezara had thought of. It was a sheathe that wrapped around like a belt, but could hold two daggers. It allowed the user to easily pull his knives, while having them hidden under his shirt. He nimbly flipped the knife onto its point and threw it to the nearest tree. It connected with a satisfying ‘thunk’. He turned back to his pupils and showed them how to hold it.

Over the next hour, the air was filled with the clang of knives missing their targets. Shaderael insisted that they would get better with time and not to let it get to them.

Over the weeks, Shaderael taught his new siblings how to fight, and of the glory of Sithis. Eventually his ribs healed and he was fit to carry out contracts once more. He walked up to Nazir, who handed him a piece of parchment.

“Mess this up, and I’ll break more than your ribs,” the redguard told him, smiling evilly.

Shaderael read the message. There was man working at the Riften fishery that had obviously done something wrong. He was a bosmer with short brown hair name Fimian. He knew that he couldn’t mess this contract up. He would take his time and do it right. As he was walking away, Nazir approached him again.

“I want you to take D'Jango with you on this one,” he said. “It is time for him to get a taste of what this job is about.”

“Will do,” Shaderael replied. He walked into the un-bloods and informed D'Jango that he was about to go on his first contract, of course Shaderael would be babysitting. The others groaned and asked why they weren’t chosen. He told him that they would get theirs soon.

The Khajiit and Bosmer walked up to the arms table and looked over the weapons. Shaderael would definitely take his duel daggers. He noticed D'Jango grabbed a dagger and short sword. Then they grabbed their armor, lightweight but strong and sturdy, perfect for assassination.

They packed their food into their packs and set out on the road.



Chapter 8

The trip took three days, but they finally reached the gates of Riften. They walked in and Shaderael instructed his companion to get the layout of the city. He didn’t want to get caught with his pants around his ankles this time. D'Jango took the left side of the city, while Shaderael took the market and right side. As he walked, he scrutinized everything. Where the path was, how he could get around certain spots if need be, and where the people of the city usually stood.

D'Jango regrouped with his teacher, and they set out to find their quarry. They posted up against the wall of the Bee and Barb, looking towards the entrance of the fishery. At around six, a throng of people began walking through the doors. They studied them, looking for their target. D'Jango spotted him and began to walk forward. Shaderael put his hand on the eager Khajiit’s chest, holding him back. He leaned in and whispered:

“That kind of hasty thinking is what got my ribs broken on my last assignment.” The Khajiit looked embarrassed, and leaned back against the wall. They slid into the group of people just behind Fimian. They followed him into the market, where he bought some meat and vegetables. Then he moved to the right of the main gate and walked behind the buildings.

Seeing their opportunity, Shaderael pulled his cowl over his head. D'Jango did the same and walked the opposite way, planning to cut him off. It was getting dark and Shaderael slid into the growing shadows behind his mark. He was about to make his move when he saw a torch light up. A guard began making his rounds.

Shaderael cursed and began looking for his furry friend. D'Jango had taken the unconventional route and was on top of the buildings. He noticed the guard and crouched down. He waited for him to pass and flipped over the roof onto the grass below, landing beside Shaderael.

Their opening would not last long. Shaderael observed the area once more. Just when he was about to move, he noticed movement in one of the yards. It was behind the Black-Briar house. One of the stupid mercenaries Maven hired to watch her estate. The Bosmer looked at his companion, motioned towards Fimian and mouthed one word. ‘Go.’

They exploded out of their hiding spot, D'Jango going left and Shaderael going towards the buildings to the right. The lean Bosmer ran as fast as he could. He noticed the small stone wall separating him from the foolish guard, and a rock to the right of it. He ran and planted his foot on the rock. Jumping forward, he put both hands on the wall and launched himself over. The unsuspecting guard didn’t even know what happened. Shaderael crashed into him at full force, knocking him to the ground. They rolled apart and the man jumped up. Shaderael pulled his knife and the man yelled, “Intruder, to arms! To arms!”

D'Jango lunged forward, sinking his blade up to the haft into the man. Fimian fell to his knees as the Khajiit whispered “Sithis welcomes you.”

D'Jango heard screaming, and then noticed Shaderael in a backyard. He sprinted to help his trainer. He jumped over the wall and landed rolling. He bowled the mercenary guard over just as three more guards came out of the back door. D'Jango pulled his knife and stabbed the first guard, lying on the ground. Guard two ran towards him, only to receive a throwing knife to the chest courtesy of Shaderael. The Khajiit nodded his silent approval to the Bosmer and went on the attack. Pulling his short sword, he engaged the third guard while his teacher attacked the fourth.

Shaderael got stuck with the biggest opponent. He was a massive Nord, standing at least six feet four inches. He pulled his other dagger and lunged at the man, who simply swatted his hand away and straight punched Shaderael in the nose. The Bosmer reeled back from the blow and slashed at the man’s stomach. Connecting, the blade cut through the hide armor and gashed through the man’s abdomen. Just as the blade finished slashing, an arrow zipped by Shaderael’s head and connected with the door to his left, fired by the city watch who heard the commotion. The mercenary followed the arrow, giving the assassin the perfect chance to slice his throat.

D'Jango heard an arrow zip behind him and hoped it didn’t hit Shaderael. His enemy was a Nord of smaller stature, only slightly taller than the sixteen year old assassin he now fought. The Nord stabbed his sword towards D'Jango, who side stepped and brought his short sword into the man’s chest cavity. He slid the man off of his blade and looked towards his blood brother.

Shaderael screamed at D'Jango, “Run! Get to the river!”, as the city guards fired arrows at the murderous pair. The nimble Khajiit ran and vaulted over the wall, sprinting hard for the river that ran in the middle of Riften. Shaderael was right behind him. As they approached the railing, D'Jango curved to the left. Shaderael grabbed him and yelled, “No time for the stairs, just jump. Don’t hit the catwalk on the other side!”

With that they leaped over the railing, falling into the murky water below. Shaderael bobbed to the surface and gasped for air. D'Jango was already swimming towards the gate at the end of town. They opened it and slipped into Lake Honrich. They swam passed HoneyGlow Estate and exited on the shore on the other side.

Shaderael was devastated; his last two contracts had gone south. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t pull off a simple assassination. Downcast, they marched back to the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary.

 

[punkin_head]

i'm thinking of the next few chapters being tied into the civil war, with massive battle and the Brotherhood being like guerrila fighters for one side. I can't think of what side to have them with though.

 

[Aeri Shadow]

Go for Stormcloaks! Since the DB was planning to assassinate the Emperor in the actual Questline, I assume that they're not exactly pro- imperial!

OH! And more very good stuff. Keep 'er up.

 

[blue 468]

good story so far can't wait till the next chapter. Oh and I say Imperials because without the Empire they probably wouldn't get as many contracts.

 

[punkin_head]

I guess it doesn't matter which side. Whichever I choose to side with, the other side will be annihilated. I'll try not to spoil any of the Civil war quests though

 

[punkin_head]

Chapter 9

The Bosmer assassin and the now blooded D'Jango hesitated at the entrance of the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. Shaderael was afraid of Nazir’s wrath, not knowing exactly what the Redguard was capable of. He finally gathered his courage and entered his home.

As they walked down the ramp to the Sanctuary, they heard a heated argument. It sounded like everyone in the whole place was shouting at one another. Shaderael and D'Jango picked up their pace and saw that all the members were in a circle, engaged in a shouting match.

“There is no way we should do this!” screamed Arnbjorn. The Nord looked as if his werewolf side was about to come out.

“They are willing to pay us generously, more than we could gather in a year of doing contracts,” Nazir replied.

“Neither of you are the leader of this family, so quiet down!” Astrid screamed. “I will decide what we do. We will vote on this.”

“What of the un-bloods?” Veezara asked.

“They will help. They need to make a kill. It doesn't matter if it is alone or with all of us together,” Astrid answered.

“What’s going on?” Shaderael asked Babette.

“We have a contract,” she said.

“What’s wrong with that?” the elf asked.

“It’s for Ulfric Stormcloak.” Babette answered.

This confused Shaderael. Maybe the Empire wasn’t doing so well in the fight for Skyrim. If General Tullius actually had the Black Sacrament performed to help out his cause, then things couldn’t be going good for him.

“We vote,” Astrid said. “General Tullius is offering fifty thousand gold septims for the head of Ulfric Stormcloak. It is allot of money. If we do this, we will be legendary. All in favor to kill Ulfric?” she asked.

Out of thirteen members, eleven raised their hands; all except Arnbjorn and Festus.

“The majority rules,” Astrid said. “Who will be the emissary to the general?”

“I will,” Shaderael spoke up. No one spoke up to deny his request.

“Leave for Solitude immediately,” Astrid told him.







Chapter 10

Shaderael hopped out of the carriage. Water splashed off the ground as he landed with a thud. He walked in the pouring rain up the slope to the gates of Solitude. He pulled his black hood deep over his face, just in case one of the guards remembered the last time he was here.

He walked through the gates and made his way to the ramp that led to Castle Dour. He pushed open the door, ignoring the guards, and walked into the war room.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” the general asked.

“We need to talk,” Shaderael said in a low voice.

“Guards, take this intruder out of,” Rikke started to say.

“No. Stand down” Tullius said, the color draining from his face. Shaderael couldn’t help but smirk as he was led upstairs; the general of the biggest army in Tamriel getting nervous by four words. “I am assuming you are from our, um, mutual friend?” he asked.

“Yes. I am here to talk about the ‘job’ you want done. I am here to strike a deal.” Shaderael told him.

“Ulfric. I want him out of the picture,”Tullius said.

“A contract is expensive. The more important the target, the more the price goes up. Fifty thousand will cover it but we need your word. When the contract if fulfilled, you leave us alone,” Shaderael told him.

“You have my word” the general replied.
Shaderael nodded his head, turned and walked down the stairs. His boots clanged off of the stone stairs as he passed into the war room. He slid out of the door and back into the rain.