Matrons of Murder

Game Master Umineko

Four murders had been committed. Four murderers were approached in their sleep. Four children of destiny decided to join the Dark Brotherhood. For initiation, four more murders were committed, souls sent to the Void. They were all then told to go to Skyrim's Dawnstar and find the Black Door, hidden away near the shore on the outskirts of the town. It would ask them a question, to which they were to answer "Innocence, my brother." They could then join the ranks of their new family of murderers, who would accept them for who they were; cold-blooded killers.

It was a cold, windy day when the children of destiny showed up to that door; perhaps it was their intertwined destinies that fated them to show up all at roughly the same time. How would they react to seeing more than just themselves approaching the door? That was for them to decide. As each approached the door, however, a voice whispered to each of them, "What is life's greatest illusion?"

Spotting the other three approaching the door, Kreel takes only the few seconds to fold the mitten covers from his heavy gloves, baring his fingers and a few rings, to make a mental assessment of the others.

"Imperial, largely reasonable as long as they think they lead, far to talkative for their own good. Bosmer, a little uncouth, quiet, and oft naive of politcal and societal nuance, but a decent sort to have at your back. And an Argonian, treacherous sort, plays the house lizard, tricky like a Khajit, and vicious brutes in an ambush. All of them are deadly or fools to be at the door today..."

He pulls his lute around, strumming a jaunty tune to safely announce his presence, singing a playfully macabre verse in Dunmeri.

"Total Slaughter,
Total Slaughter.
I won't leave a single man alive.

La de da de dai,
Genocide.
La de da de duh,
An ocean of blood.

Let's begin the killing time."

He sees the Dunmer playing a loot, as well as the other two. He wonders why they are here. Maybe tryouts? He wonders as he starts to size everybody up briefly, then decides against it, for he should soon see what they can do. He then ponders at whether everybody would leave here alive... But don't the dark brotherhood already know us and what we can do? So many questions. Perhaps soon to be answered. "Yes, I'll just listen to the music..." he thinks as the bard finishes his tune.

"Hail, gentlemen. A pleasant day to you," the Dumner calls out in Nordic. "Arrived by invitation or ambigious happenstance?"

Kreel slings the lute back under his cloak and folds the covers back over his fingers, closing the heavy cloak against the bitter winds. The disarming smile reinforced by the hand subtly grasping the dagger up his sleeve.

"Kreel Subaddamael of Windhelm, ministrel and merchant."

Litan ignores the chatty dunmer and approaches the door. "What's life's greatest illusion" cam the shadowy whisper. With only a moments hesitation, and a disdainful glance in the direction of the bard and his dark tune, Litan murmurs "Innocence, my brother." As teh door opens, he hears the bard introduce himself.

"Kreel Subaddamael of Windhelm, ministrel and merchant."

As the door s#&~s behind him, all is silent and dark. Litan waits as his eyes adjust to the dim interior.

Mikhail, nice to meet you. Mikhail then addresses the door innocence, my brother Then enters.

Kreel chuckles softly, pressing his palm to the door, answering the unearthly voice in a confident tone, "Innocence, my brother."

Stepping gracefully through the door into the House of Death, crimson eyes brightening their glow in the comforting gloom beyond the jet portal.

"Innocence, my brother." The Argonian whispers to the door, slipping inside last of the four. It was a calculated risk, for the others could easily set up an ambush, but the time allowed him to cast his protective spells before stepping inside.

You don't stick a bare hand in a viper's nest, after all.

As each new recruit said the proper response to the door's question, they were greeted with a whispered, "Welcome home." The door then opened for them, leading them into a narrow hallways where they could walk only single file. The worn walls showed the age of the sanctuary, grey stone with a light dusting of snow and various fauna growing out of it. As they made their way into a small room, though, red banners with a black hand print in the center were hung up on the walls, and there were signs that someone had eaten there recently.

A big room then came into view, able to be seen through some bars. It would probably be surprising to see the place in such a good state, well-lit, clean, and active after seeing such dreary stonework at the entrance. Many an assassin were wandering around, some slashing at dummies, others sitting, eating, and reading, while yet others were conversing with one another. There were stairs that led down to the main chamber, and a man with dark skin and grey hair seemed to be waiting for them with a smirk, dressed in red clothes that bore the same dark hand print as the banner. As the four made their way down those steps, he slowly approached them, seeming to need much effort to move.

"Welcome, welcome, all four of you to the Dawnstar Sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood," the old man said in a deep voice. "I am Nazir, the head of this Sanctuary. Consider me...well, Sithis is your Dread Father, so I guess that makes me more like an uncle." He laughed a little after saying that, then continued with, "It's good to see that this family is still growing, and we all here in the sanctuary expect great things from you." Giving each of them a nod, he looked behind himself and swept an arm around the massive room. "This will be your new home, since you've gone through the trouble of finding the place," he went on to say, before coughing a little, seemingly feeble in his old age. He turned back to face them, then waved a hand that seemed to say that he was alright, just needed to clear his throat.

"Now, then, before we begin, I need to know how best to outfit all of you with your new attire," he told them, then pointed to a rather large cabinet. "It's a bit of a tradition here to wear at least something that shows the brand of the Dark Brotherhood," he explained, then shrugged his shoulders. "I don't make the rules, but I honor the Night Mother and her ways." He turned to face them once again, then crossed his arms over his chest. "Now then, how about you all introduce yourselves?" The way he said it made it seem like he already knew who they were, and was just going through formalities; the way he was looking at them with such a knowing smile seemed to help support this.

(Damn, forgot that he's supposed to also ask whether each person wants light armor, heavy armor, or robes. Just pretend that he did.)

"Blessed is the Mother and her wisdom, and thank you, sir, light armor please," Krenath answers as he bows to the elderly Redguard.

"I am Krenath Subaddamael, alchemist, poisoner of cups and ears, student of Dunmeri battle tactics, and Ashlands traditionalist on the matter of worshiping the Daedra Lords. My parents were displaced to Windhelm by the Red Year, though others of the tribe have settled widely throughout the decades."

Light armor, please. Pardon my ignorance, but I'd like to know more of Sithis and the Night Mother. Are they husband and wife? What are their tenants? Are we to pray to them? Mikhail asks, genuinely interested...

"Light armor please." As Litan waited for his new gear, he focused on his surroundings, looking for other members of the brotherhood that were surely lurking nearby. He strained his ears to catch whatever sounds he could. They might have claimed to welcome him openly, but he was hesitant to accept the fact at face value.

"Light armor and a hood. It's all I need. Anything else doesn't feel right." The Argonian says, tail flicking to make himself seem agitated or worried.

It seemed to come to no surprise to Nazir that all four of them chose to don light armor, and it also didn't seem to surprise him that only one of the three actually introduced themselves, and it was the one that he would probably be keeping a close eye on. "Very well, four light armors it is," he said, sounding a little bemused as he grabbed and handed each of them a complete set of armor, from boots to a deceivingly-thick hood. "Put them on at your leisure, and remember to wear them whenever you're around the sanctuary. It's not really required, but just something that everyone around here likes to do." He then turned to Mikhail and nodded at his question. "I was just getting to that while you four were changing, Mikhail," he then said, putting emphasis on his name to ensure that he already knew who he was. "I guess it's time for your new uncle to start rambling, though I do advise you to pay attention."

Taking in a breath, he let out a few coughs before continuing. "The Night Mother and Sithis are enigmas, as it should be. It's been lost to history how the two are related, but it's clear that the Dark Brotherhood is meant to serve both, wholly and completely. It's said that Sithis begat the Night Mother children when she was thought to be barren, and in order to show her love for Sithis, she slaughtered each and every one of them." A cruel smile played across his lips when he told that part of the story. "Nothing else is really known about what happened after that, but the Night Mother is our matron, and we honor her. She speaks only to the Listener of the Black Hand, a part of us that I will explain in due time."

Coughing a few more times, the elderly Redguard waved his hand to signal that he was switching subjects. "Now, then, we have five tenets that you must adhere to now that you are one of us.

Never dishonor the Night Mother. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis." With a look to Demetrian, Nazir added the remark, "That means you won't be getting this mother hanged, Demetrian."

"Never betray the Dark Brotherhood or its secrets. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis." He then turned a sharp gaze to Kreel, as if to say he knew about his family's ties to a certain other organization that may have had a rather heated history with the Dark Brotherhood.

"Never disobey or refuse to carry out an order from a Dark Brotherhood superior. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis."

"Never steal the possessions of a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis."

"Never kill a Dark Brother or Dark Sister. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis." Once again, his gaze went to Kreel, as if to say that he expected that tenet to be ingrained in his mind more than any of the others.

With a laugh afterwards, Nazir added in, "There is, of course, the sixth, unspoken tenet: Never invoke the Wrath of Sithis. To do so is to invoke the Wrath of Sithis. In any case, I believe all four of you will be honorable with these tenets. As long as you trust and respect your family members, you should have no problems with these tenets."

He crossed his arms over his chest after that, then took a more serious tone. "Now, we will talk about how ranking goes here in the Dark Brotherhood," he said, making sure he was understood to be talking seriously. "Right now, you are just low-ranking murderers, and are the lowest on the totem pole. This doesn't mean that you have to do whatever everyone tells you, however, despite the third tenet; you only have to honor that tenet whenever I or Babette--who you may meet shortly--give you a contract or order. There may be a couple in the sanctuary who will dispute that, but you do not have to do as they ask just because they asked it. Just remember that it is I who am in charge, and Babette is my second-in-command."

"There is also the five highest-ranking members of our family that may give you orders, as well. These are the members of the Black Hand that I talked about earlier. They are the Listener, who speaks with the Night Mother to learn where contracts are to be gathered, and the four Speakers; each of you have met one of these Speakers when you were initiated. There was a time that we didn't mention these members to new initiates, but there was an...incident many years ago in our history that made us reconsider this course of action. Remember these names, in case you receive letters with their names.

Our Listener is an Orc named Gruz gro-Malob. You wouldn't believe how a warhammer can sneak up on you until this monster caves your skull in from behind.

Our Speakers are Hugh Reighn, an Imperial who can give even me a run for my money when it comes to using light armor effectively, and approached you, Litan, if you remember; Nelthala Highill, an Altmer master of illusion and destruction, and kind of an arrogant bastard, who approached you, Kreel; Skreena, an Argonian female who can shoot daggers with a bow, and approached Demetrian; and Wallace Flame-Kissed, feared spellsword who uses Alteration and longswords in mesmerizing ways, and brought Mikhail to us. If you see a letter with these names on it with orders, you will do them immediately and without question; you do not even have to inform me about it."

With that out of the way, Nazir relaxed again and had a more jovial tone to him. "Now, then, I believe it's time you started to mingle with your new family," he said with a smile. "It's good for a family to communicate, so go, talk to everyone you can. I can make suggestions with a few to talk to, though. Let's see..."

Taking a look around, he tried to find those he thought the new recruits would benefit the most from talking to. He spotted a few, then waved them down. "Alright, sitting over there in the corner is...well, it's probably best if I let him introduce himself." He pointed to a figure that had his hands over his chest and a hood over his face. "He's a good source to learn how to keep a low profile in various parts of Tamriel."

"Then there's Delaweiss Strodania over there, swinging her daggers at some dummies. Again. She knows how to stick a small blade into just about anywhere, but she may not be the best to get along with. I would still try it, though, if you want to stab anyone in the throat. Don't worry about her doing that to you, of course; she understands and follows the tenets well."

"Ah, yes, over in the torture chamber is our favorite Khajiit in the sanctuary, J'Skar." In a small room behind the four was indeed a Khajiit that was shooting a bow at something hidden by the doorway, and he had quite the smile across his lips. "If you want to learn anything about archery, there's a cat for it. His hobby used to be sniping birds off of buildings in Elsweyr."

"There's also burly Mazonag over there, swinging his heavy weapons around as per usual. He...probably won't talk to you, but he has his own interesting interpretations on how to do business, if you can get him talking."

"Oh, and sitting over there by the garden is second-in-command, Babette. Well, she's somewhere over there, at least." He let out a laugh as he pointed in the direction of what seemed to be a little girl just sitting over by a garden full of deadly plants and a small alchemy station. "It's best to go talk with her, as she can provide more information about how things are run in here, and is quite the alchemist in her own right. That girl could poison a snake if she wanted to."

"Dahlia Worstrom should be slinking about here somewhere. She's a Bosmer who can get into anywhere she's not supposed to. Be glad that the tenets keep her from stealing from you, as it wouldn't matter how tightly you locked your chests. She'd get in it without breaking a pick. She's pretty good at explaining what she does, too, if you need help learning how to pick locks. It's a handy skill in this line of work."

"Kreel, you recognize the Hlaalu name, don't you? One of the great houses in Morrowind? We have a member of that family among our ranks. Sindra Hlaalu is an expert of Daedric summoning, though I wish she would keep that Scamp out of here. Summoners among us could learn a thing or two from her, though."

Nazir's eyes then scanned around the shadows, and they stopped at a particular dark corner, and the corner of his mouth curled upwards. "Agnar Holsar should be around here somewhere," he then said sarcastically. "If you want to know how to cling to shadows, he's the guy to talk to around here. He's also pretty good at hiding in plain sight, which is key to making quick getaways from public kills."

"Now, who am I forgetting? Ah, yes, there's Kud-Nee...I mean Kud-Skar. A very friendly Argonian woman, unless you're out to harm J'Skar. Kind of odd how an Argonain and Khajiit are wed, but I oversaw the ceremony, so I have to believe it. She's our resident illusionist, and certainly has knowledge to spare when it comes to that magic. Just don't get her talking about her mate, or you may never hear the end of it."

"And of course, if you wish to just talk to this old geezer, I can talk to you, as well. Now, go, meet your new family as you will."

"Hlaalu? The traders house, little surprise for one to make their way to this family. They've, historically, always kept a sizeable budget for such services." The dunmer smiles as he adjusts the sleeves of his shrouded leather, easing access to the dagger strapped to his forearm. "Thank you, Uncle. Brethren," he nods politely and strolls to the toxic garden.

"Good day, miss, may I join you amongst the blossoms?" He flashes his smile at the young girl, assessing the components on hand as he pulls out his 'botony journal,' eager to sketch in new plants, encode their uses, and trade tricks and recipes with another alchemist.

Mikhail changes into his new armor. He then begins looking for Agnar Holsar beginning in the direction of where the redguard looked while mentioning him.

Demetrian started committing the tenets -especially the sixth one- to memory as he listened to Nazir tell them about the other members of their new family. Some did catch his interest, but another Argonian that utilized the strength of the unreal and worked on the weakness of minds and wills? That was interesting.

So, after he found a place to change into his new armor and adjusted it to his body so it didn't aggrivate his scales, he went to talk to Kud-Skar.

"Hello, miss. I'm new to the family, but was told I should talk to the others around her, introduce myself. I'll get around to the all eventually, but I felt compelled, no pun intended, to speak with my fellow and now doubt superior illusionist. I am Demetrain Magnes."

Litan thanked Nazir for the new garments, and went to find a solitary corner. When he found himself a space out of sight from the others, he donned his new armor, and settled into the shadows. Then he began to play.

Litan knew that Agnar must be at least as skilled in stealth as himself, judging from Nazir's glance into the shadows. So, Litan found himself slowly exploring the sanctuary. Wandering from room to room, maintaining as low a profile as possible. He took note of where each member of his new family worked, where they were accustomed to practice their skills, or spend their time. His ultimate goal was to sneak up on Agnar, but he was in no hurry to do so. Knowledge could be as valuable as gold. And so he stayed to the shadows, and observed all that he could.

He treated it as a game, always trying to stay one step ahead of his brothers, and always looking for Agnar in the shadows behind him. After all, if he was stalking Agnar, Agnar might very well be stalking him. Litan also took special note of where teh new initiates went first. Where their skills and interests lie...

"Good day, miss, may I join you amongst the blossoms?" He flashes his smile at the young girl, assessing the components on hand as he pulls out his 'botony journal,' eager to sketch in new plants, encode their uses, and trade tricks and recipes with another alchemist.

The little girl who was sitting next to the garden looked up at Kreel as he approached, and gave him a nervous smile. She weakly nodded her head at his question, then looked left and right quickly, before whispering at him in a harsh, hushed tone, "Please, sir, you have to help me! These bad men killed Mama and Papa and took me here so I wouldn't tell on them! I want to go home!" She had a rather panicked look on her face, eyes wide and full of desperate need. The look, however, soon faded into a rather mature and deceptive smile.

"Rather convincing, don't you think?" she then asked, her tone leaving that of a little girl to that of a child who was well past her perceived age. "In truth, I'm much less of a child than you are. Vampirism tends to keep the victim rather...fresh, and it just so happens I was bitten when I was just ten. So, for the past 350 years, I've been quite the naughty ten year old girl."

Her eyes caught the journal that Kreel produced, and she gave him a knowing smirk. "Some would say that you at least admire the...art of my kind," she said, hinting that she knew very well how he took the life that attracted attention to himself. "However, it's really poison that you know more about, isn't it? I'm sure Nazir told you that I'm quite adept with them, as well. 300 years of practice tends to make one a master, wouldn't you say?" She waved a small hand over at the garden next to her, full of dangerous-looking plants. "I wouldn't eat any of the crops here, Brother, unless you want to join Sithis now," she warned Kreel. "Take the Swamp Fungal Pod, for instance. Sure, you may feel a little better after eating it...and after you regained your muscle control. When mixed with a blue mountain flower, it acts like a nice pick-me-up when you're bleeding, but if you mix it with a canis root, you'll find that you'll just lose feeling in just about...everything for a few seconds. It's really great out on the hunt if you can get it in your target."

Her gaze then hardened, and she looked like she was about to give some serious advice. "It's not always an easy task to use poisons effectively," she then said. "There are some people who are too paranoid about what they eat, or those in crowded areas where shooting them with a poison-tipped arrow may arouse suspicion, or otherwise resistant people like Bosmer and some Argonians. However, just about anyone here in Skyrim has to visit the local tavern eventually for a pint of mead. The funny thing about mead is that the honey tends to drown out any foreign flavors, so if someone were to, say, be distracted by a brawl caused by a fellow Brother, it would be a simple task to slip some nightshade or a personal brew into the mead and slip out undetected. The most important part of poisoning a target is to never do anything that would make them suspicious of your intentions."

With that said, she relaxed a little, then reached over and plucked a few deathbell flowers for Kreel. "You may like these," she said, "and accept them as a gift for listening to that lecture. If you're looking to delay any powerful poisons, I'd suggest mixing those with a pinch of salt. Also, I am, as Nazir no doubt told you, second-in-command in this sanctuary, so do come by later for your contracts. I hand them out to the lower-ranking members of the family. I've also been around for quite a while, so if you want to take a history lesson, just ask any questions you may have."

He treated it as a game, always trying to stay one step ahead of his brothers, and always looking for Agnar in the shadows behind him. After all, if he was stalking Agnar, Agnar might very well be stalking him. Litan also took special note of where teh new initiates went first. Where their skills and interests lie...

While Mikhail searched for him, Agnar stayed perfectly still in the shadows of the sanctuary, blending in perfectly with them, keeping himself as silent as a gentle breeze. When Litan started to prowl around the sanctuary in the shadows, however, Agnar himself started his own little game. For most of Litan's sneaking around, Agnar was actually three paces behind him, ducking himself into a blind spot when he looked behind him. If any of the other members of the family were looking at him, they didn't show it.

After a small while, though, Agnar eventually tapped Litan on the shoulder, then said, "Looking for me?" in his native Nordic accent. He gave a small laugh, then backed away, expecting a stray dagger to be drawn and possibly thrown in his direction, nimbly dodging it should it had been thrown. He looked over at Mikhail, as well, and motioned for him to come over, knowing that he sought his guidance, as well.

"Welcome, Brothers," he then greeted them. "I hope Nazir didn't bore you to death with his speech; he does tend to ramble on in his old age. But, I'm sure he told you that I'm the resident hider around here, and I won't lie, I'm pretty good at what I do."

He laughed a little while looking at both Litan and Mikhail, then gave them both nods. "Well, as I'm sure you both know, sticking to shadows is the best way to keep out of sight," he then said, "but in the middle of the day, it can be hard to find darkness. Sure, you can lean against a building all day, but you won't get anywhere in the cities by doing that. No, what you need to do in that case is figure out how to blend in. Hide in plain sight, as they say; just make sure you don't stand out from anyone else on the street. Say like in Solitude, a place here in Skyrim that's almost always busy, all you have to do is look like you're just heading somewhere like everyone else, dress like they do, sit on a bench and read a flyer, or what have you. Of course, in smaller towns like Ivarstead, where everyone knows each other, it's harder to do. That's when you look for the places no one will think to look. It's always easy to find a way to the top of a roof from behind a building, and not a lot of people think to look up. You especially need to keep that in mind when stalking a target that's already paranoid; you just have to think about the places he won't look."

He shrugged his shoulders after that bit of information. "Other than that, you just have to think about it sometimes," he said to them. "You just have to practice, like with everything else. Just don't do the illegal stuff when you're not certain you're completely out of sight, and no one can say anything about what you're doing. Of course, they can't say anything about what you're doing after you've sliced their throats, too."

He looked over to the torture chamber after that. "Well, that's about all I can think to say," he said. "If you have any other questions, I'll try to answer, but if you want to learn a little more about shooting people or things with a bow, talk to the big cat in there. J'Skar is pretty damn good; he could shoot the apple off a giant's head from a mile away."

"Hello, miss. I'm new to the family, but was told I should talk to the others around her, introduce myself. I'll get around to the all eventually, but I felt compelled, no pun intended, to speak with my fellow and now doubt superior illusionist. I am Demetrain Magnes."

The female Argonian was near a cage with two frostbite spiders in a cage, seemingly docile towards each other. She gave a wave to the approaching Demetrian, then quickly cast two Frenzy spells in succession, making the spiders agitated and hostile, and they started to fight, spitting poison at each other. "Yes, I've heard of you, Demetrian," she then said in a raspy voice much akin to most females of her race. "I know enough to hope you don't think of me as a motherly figure." She laughed a little at that, watching as one frostbite spider stuck a forelimb right into one of the other's eye, piercing right through it.

"So, you, too, are an illusionist?" she then asked, keeping her eyes on the spiders. "Well, I'm sure you know enough to know how it's the subtle changes to the mind that make the Illusion school so powerful and undetectable to the targets. Of course, most assassins would prefer to learn invisibility among all the others, but you just can't ignore the other ways to manipulate the mind. Sure, you can sneak around undetected by the naked eye all well and good, but what happens when you have to assassinate your target in the middle of a crowded room? Well, needless to say your invisibility will only get you so far after that, and your magicka won't be able to keep up with your casting. Now, however, say you charm that target in the crowded room just enough to convince him you two should talk in a back room, where no one else is. That would make things a lot easier, wouldn't you say?" She laughed again, then added, "Charms can be rather powerful. Have you met my mate J'Skar yet? You wouldn't believe how many times I had to charm him before he agreed to marry me."

She sighed out her nostrils with a hazy look in her eyes, seemingly lost in thought at the mention of her husband, before she shook her head and returned to looking at the spiders, in which the bigger one had started to eat the one it had just killed. "Where was I? Oh, right, you mustn't forget about frenzy, as well. While you can lead a target to a secluded location, sometimes you may just want to make it look like that target just lost his mind for a few moments, and let the others in that room do the work for you in self-defense. I've yet to ever be suspected of using a frenzy spell on a target, and I doubt you'll ever have the same problem."

The frenzy spell wore off of the spider while it was in the middle of eating the one it just killed, and it just stopped, spat out what it could, then crawled its way to the corner of the cage. "Well, I shouldn't keep you, young one," she then said, finally turning to Demetrian. "I'm sure you have some others you'd like to talk to. I have a feeling we may work together on some contracts. Travel is very dangerous as of late, so it's always best to travel in groups. You never know when the Legion or the Thalmor will have questions we just can't answer."

"Thank you for the advice, Agnar. I'll be sure to keep it in mind as well as my actions." Mikhail then goes over to the torture chamber. "Hello J'skar. I'm Mikhail. I just wondering if I could practice with you? Perhaps you could give me a few pointers? Sorry to say I don't currently have a bow or arrows. Was wondering if you wanted my old leather armor for a bow and some arrows? I also have an old lock if your interested.

"I will make you a deal." He says jovially, smiling. "don't take my sweet rolls or consider me husband material should tragedy strike, gods forbid, and I won't consider you a mother figure."

"If you ever wish to discuss our art, I'm sure we can give eachother the occasional insight." He nods respectfully and leaves, taking his time to think about which one of his more experienced comrades to converse with next.

"Thank you for the advice, Agnar. I'll be sure to keep it in mind as well as my actions." Mikhail then goes over to the torture chamber. "Hello J'skar. I'm Mikhail. I just wondering if I could practice with you? Perhaps you could give me a few pointers? Sorry to say I don't currently have a bow or arrows. Was wondering if you wanted my old leather armor for a bow and some arrows? I also have an old lock if your interested.

When approached by Mikhail, J'Skar didn't even tilt his head to look at him. His lips just curled into a happy smile, and he chuckled when it seemed like the Imperial was trying to bribe the marksman Khajiit. "There is no need to pay this one, Mr. Mikhail," he said in a typical Khajiit accent, low, smooth, and containing a hint of a purr. He let another arrow fly after that, and the muffled sound of someone in pain could be heard, the arrow having hit an Altmer left in just undergarments, shackled to the wall with his arms over his head, a rag stuff in his mouth, and arrows in almost all his joints. A couple of dead Altmer were next to him, looking like fresh kills, with several arrows in their joints, as well.

"It is good to see yet another family member join this sanctuary," he went on to say after letting another arrow fly, hitting the restrained High Elf in the left ankle, blood seeping out of the wound around the arrow head. "There is no cost for family to get a bow from J'Skar, nor a cost for arrows." The shackled Altmer then gave his last struggles of life, but the puddle of blood on the floor under him showed that he had lost too much of his life essence, and he expired shortly thereafter, making J'Skar sigh and start to walk off. "Perhaps there is something you can do to show this one how well you can shoot," he then said, keeping his smile as he walked into a side chamber, then shortly returned with yet another Altmer, struggling and kicking with cloth in his mouth. On his arm, there was a tattoo that, to those who knew of it, would symbolize he was a higher-ranking official in the Thalmor army.

J'Skar was obviously physically stronger than the High Elf, and easily was able to restrain him against the wall. J'Skar then handed Mikhail his bow and his quiver of arrows, then got behind him and put a hand on his shoulder while pointing at the elf. "Show J'Skar your aim," he then whispered into Mikhail's ear. "Try to hit that one in his shoulder. Either one will do."

Mikhail didn't take pleasure in the kill, let alone torture. He saw it as business. With no expression on his face he took aim at the Altmer's right shoulder, holding his breath right before his shot and then letting it fly.

Deciding to step outside of his comfort zone when it came to his skill, Demetrian next went to see Babette in the garden. He stepped carefully through the plants, following the paths, until he stood a few feet from the child.

"Greeting, Miss Babette. I am Demetrian Magnes, one of the newest members of the Dark Brotherhood. I'll gladly listen to anything you may wish to speak about with me."

Mikhail didn't take pleasure in the kill, let alone torture. He saw it as business. With no expression on his face he took aim at the Altmer's right shoulder, holding his breath right before his shot and then letting it fly.

With Mikhail's skill and unfamiliarity with the bow, the arrow hit the Altmer in the collar bone, not the shoulder, which made him squirm in agony as the cloth in him mouth muffled his cries of pain. J'Skar just chuckled and gently retrieved his bow from Mikhail's grip. "An honest effort," he said, "but you have done three things wrong. First, you used a bow you have never used before." He held the bow out for Mikhail to look at as he pulled back the string, then let it go harmlessly, and as it bounced back, it was a little off-center of what would be expected. "This one's bow pulls a little to the right," he explained, "and makes arrows fly a little more in that direction."

J'Skar pulled the bow back and then knocked an arrow, aiming at the restrained High Elf's other shoulder. "The second thing you have done wrong is you aimed directly at your target from this distance," he then explained as he slowly drew the arrow back. "Arrows are not immune to gravity, you see, so they immediately want to fall to the ground if you aim straight ahead." He corrected his aim as he spoke, accounting for the slight pull towards the right in the string, and the way gravity would affect the arrow. "And then there was the third thing you did wrong," he said, and right as the arrow reached the back of the pull, he let it go without any hesitation, no stopping for a breath, no waiting even the briefest of a second before the arrow struck the Thalmor right in the ball socket joint of his left shoulder, making the shocked elf writhe as much as he could in his restraints. Smirking to himself, J'Skar turned back to Mikhail, then told him, "You hesitated just before you shot the arrow. Despite all efforts, the body twitches much when attempting to be still, no? It is nothing to be ashamed of, as when the heart beats, so do the muscles. Wait even just a second, and your aim will be that much off, which can mean the life or death of your target. Of course, you will mostly be aiming to cause the death of targets."

The Khajiit never lost his happy expression as he spoke to Mikhail then turned to fire another arrow, taking just three seconds to draw the arrow, aim, then fire it into the Thalmor's right wrist, making the blood slowly seep down his arm, dripping onto his shoulder and down the rest of his torso from there. It seemed like the elf whimpered "No more!" but it was hard to tell with the cloth in his mouth. "If you need more instruction on archery, you come to J'Skar again, no? It is this one's pleasure to help new family members to be more deadly. Just do not bother J'Skar when he is with Kud-Skar, yes? She and this one are mates and do love time alone." Upon mention of his wife, J'Skar started to make a purring noise, and his tail flicked a little. "Anyway, this one thinks that you should speak to others around the sanctuary. Delaweiss is good for learning about all sorts of small blades to stab enemies with, even if she isn't too fond of new family members. Dahlia likes new family members better, but doesn't speak much, even to this one. She breaks into homes even better than most Khajiit, and may help out there. But if you are ready to start sending souls to Sithis, then Babette may already have contracts waiting for you. Maybe this one will join you on the hunt, no? Travel is so dangerous lately, I doubt Nazir will want new family members to be alone."

Deciding to step outside of his comfort zone when it came to his skill, Demetrian next went to see Babette in the garden. He stepped carefully through the plants, following the paths, until he stood a few feet from the child.

"Greeting, Miss Babette. I am Demetrian Magnes, one of the newest members of the Dark Brotherhood. I'll gladly listen to anything you may wish to speak about with me."

Babette looked up to the approaching young Argonian, and offered him a sly smile that she had given Kreel. "Ah, yes, Demetrian, good to meet you, Brother," she greeted him, noticing his movements to avoid touching the plants. "It's perfectly alright if you step on them," she told him. "It won't harm them, and I doubt they will harm you, much." She was obviously joking, knowing the Argonian's resistance to poisons. "As I was telling Kreel, I am the second-in-command of the sanctuary; don't let my appearance fool you, as you're much more of a child than I am."

She then seemed to think about what she would need to tell the Argonian. "Well, if you have need of knowledge of poisons, I can provide you some information. I've also been around for quite a while, so I can also share some history of the Brotherhood with you. If you, however, are eager to get out and start killing and earning your keep, I can also provide you with your first contract. You won't be working alone, due to the harsh travel, but I'm sure it'll be quite the thrill for you all the same. Your first few contracts will keep you here in Skyrim, but I'm sure you'll be moving around the continent in due time."

"The Tenets say not to kill a Brother or Sister, and as these plants are as deadly and unassuming as you certainly are, I will refrain from hurting them." The Argonian replies, bowing respectfully. "The first rule of the school of Ilusion is that nothing is what it seems."

"If you're ready to entrust me and another with a contract, I'll gladly listen to the detail and start planning if I choose to accept it." It had been too long since he'd felt the thrill of murder, and Babette had him down to a t when it came to not caring about the travel.

As the arrow hit the Altmer in his right bicep, Mikhail cursed himself at his lack of skill... Blood oozing a little, not gushing. It was right there... How did I miss that shot!? , Mikhail brooded. He then looked at the J'skar meekly, whispering If he wasn't chained up, I'd be in trouble. Then, out loud Looks like I go down and to the right a little. Mikhail looked at the Thalmor squinting and cocking his head to the right... He then straightened his head, took a took a deep breath and inquisitively looked at J'skar. Could I have another shot?

As the arrow hit the Altmer in his right bicep, Mikhail cursed himself at his lack of skill... Blood oozing a little, not gushing. It was right there... How did I miss that shot!? , Mikhail brooded. He then looked at the J'skar meekly, whispering If he wasn't chained up, I'd be in trouble. Then, out loud Looks like I go down and to the right a little. Mikhail looked at the Thalmor squinting and cocking his head to the right... He then straightened his head, took a took a deep breath and inquisitively looked at J'skar. Could I have another shot?

J'Skar nodded when Mikhail wanted another shot, then let one more arrow fly, which landed in the pain-stricken elf's other wrist. "Okay, just one more shot," he said before handing Mikhail the bow again, then just one single arrow. "It is probably best you aim for a bigger area, so it is harder to miss." His feline eyes scanned over the Altmer, blood dripping down his yellowed body. "Perhaps you should aim for his belly," J'Skar then suggested. "The naval should be your target, but do not worry if you do not hit it; there is much time for you to practice later, especially out on a contract." With that said, J'Skar crossed his arms over his chest, kept that happy smile across his lips, and waited for his new Brother to take his shot.

Mikhail thought about the Thalmor, all the bloodshed, the white gold concordant. While it did cause peace to ensue before he was born, history, he figured was written by the victors. He didn't know what side he would have fought in the war, but by Sithis the Thalmor and their disregard for peoples right to worship... Then Mikhail thought about what J'skar said before, about the bow going a little to the right, the accounting of gravity, and no hesitation. So if I aim a bit up and to the left without hesitation I should get closer to my target. He didn't know why he thought the arrow got his bicep, Perhaps I looked away too soon... He then looked at the Thalmor's belly button aimed a bit up and to the left, and fired quickly, or at least quickly by his standards, hopefully hitting his bowels.

Mikhail thought about the Thalmor, all the bloodshed, the white gold concordant. While it did cause peace to ensue before he was born, history, he figured was written by the victors. He didn't know what side he would have fought in the war, but by Sithis the Thalmor and their disregard for peoples right to worship... Then Mikhail thought about what J'skar said before, about the bow going a little to the right, the accounting of gravity, and no hesitation. So if I aim a bit up and to the left without hesitation I should get closer to my target. He didn't know why he thought the arrow got his bicep, Perhaps I looked away too soon... He then looked at the Thalmor's belly button aimed a bit up and to the left, and fired quickly, or at least quickly by his standards, hopefully hitting his bowels.

Mikhail's shot was much closer to his target than before, but still missed it by some inches, the arrow plunging into the Thalmor's stomach. This obviously was very agonizing to the elf, his writhing against his restraints causing the chains to rattle. Little spurts of bile started to fly out of the corners of the cloth in his mouth, and blood seeped out of the wound, as well as the last contents of the stomach that could get around the arrowhead. J'Skar just nodded and smiled, tail flicking up and down while looking at the wound.

"Much better," he said with a happy tone as he took his bow back once more. "Do not despair that you still didn't hit the target; like this one said, it takes much practice to aim so accurately. J'Skar didn't hit the first bird he aimed at, and still sometimes misses when it is far away." Obviously being playful, he just patted Mikhail on the top of the head. "Now go, you still have much to do in the sanctuary. If you have need to shed blood, this one suggests talking to Babette. She has contracts waiting, this one is very sure."

Mikhail, looking a little confused Thought I had a bow when he gave me one, makes sense that he'd want to keep his. asked Was wondering if I could have a bow I could keep? He asked, meekly. Then, possibly correcting himself, Is there someone who takes care of that sort of thing? Wouldn't want to steal from a brother or sister, now, would I?

Mikhail, looking a little confused Thought I had a bow when he gave me one, makes sense that he'd want to keep his. asked Was wondering if I could have a bow I could keep? He asked, meekly. Then, possibly correcting himself, Is there someone who takes care of that sort of thing? Wouldn't want to steal from a brother or sister, now, would I?

J'Skar didn't look over to Mikhail when he asked his questions, intent on torturing the Thalmor and keeping his aim sharp. "You will have to talk to Brother Nazir about that," he told Mikhail. "This one has many bows, yes, but is very partial to them all, as some are much better in different situations. This particular bow is the one that was used before J'Skar asked Kud-Neeus to marry him, so it will not be leaving this one's arsenal. Now, go, you bother J'Skar." The last bit was obviously said in jest, as he kept smiling and had a joking tone about him.

Mikhail Chuckles briefly and heads in Brother Nazir's direction. Wearing his full uniform and respectfully bowing his head briefly, J'skar was helpful enough to provide me some arrows, but if it pleases you, may I have a bow as I was told you may be able to help me. I know you've already provided me superb armor and I hate to ask for more, but it would be very helpful in my endeavors as a brother here. Mikhail asks, if a bit nervous, as Nazir is the boss of the place and does not want to make himself seem greedy against a brother.

Mikhail Chuckles briefly and heads in Brother Nazir's direction. Wearing his full uniform and respectfully bowing his head briefly, J'skar was helpful enough to provide me some arrows, but if it pleases you, may I have a bow as I was told you may be able to help me. I know you've already provided me superb armor and I hate to ask for more, but it would be very helpful in my endeavors as a brother here. Mikhail asks, if a bit nervous, as Nazir is the boss of the place and does not want to make himself seem greedy against a brother.

Nazir just crossed his arms over his chest as Mikhail approached him, chuckling to himself at the way the Imperial spoke, before he started to cough again. He looked down and shook his head, before saying to himself, "Always the same with you new initiates, wanting to be as prepared as possible." He coughed again, then with his throat clear, he said, "I'm sure we have some old bow lying around somewhere. Tell you what, though; you go ahead and talk with Babette, and if I find a bow, I'll leave it by the door so you can pick it up when you leave."

With that said, Nazir went immediately to a supply chest nearby when Mikhail finally went to go see his second-in-command, and picked up a wooden bow, then slowly made his way towards the entrance of the sanctuary, his old bones and joints keeping him from moving much quicker than that.

As Mikhail approached the garden where Babette was working, he looked at the many different plants and decided to avoid them. I always thought injuries were enough, but I suppose poison helps. Plus there many different other applications other than coating your weapon... Hopefully curative has a place here at the dark brotherhood. He then looked at the little girl, assuming something was off with a little girl around so many deadly plants making poisons and being second in command. Hello, Babette? I'm Mikhail. You are quite talented, working with all these plants and making poisons. Second in command and all. How did you do all that at such a young age?

As Mikhail approached, Babette immediately reached under her table to start retrieving an envelope. She just smirked at his question, then responded with, "I guess it is rather amazing. A master of alchemy, second-in-command to a guild of murderers, and I can even tie my own shoes, all at the age of ten. Of course, then again, I've been ten for quite a long time. About 350 years, to be more specific." She then opened her mouth and pointed to her fangs, trying to hint to the Imperial that she was a vampire, not wanting to have to state it again for the third time that day.

Once she was sure Mikhail got the hint, she proceeded to open the envelope, retrieving the parchment that was inside. "Now, then, I suppose you're here for your contract, as well, Mikhail?" she asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "I'm going to pair you up with Demetrian here, as well as Delaweiss Strodania, a veteran member here in the sanctuary." She looked to both the Argonian and Imperial before her, nodding to each of them and smirking. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine with each other, but don't expect to get along with Delaweiss for a while. She's...difficult with new members, but don't let her get to you. Anyway, your target is going to be an Imperial by the name of Rufus Delehan. He is well-respected and adored around the city, and contributes much to the community, his business spreading the wealth around the commonfolk and keeping the economy stimulated. So, naturally, someone wants him dead, and it's your jobs to make that wish come true. Apparently Rufus has made this individual feel too insignificant, and his death will help ease that pain."

Babette then handed the paper detailing the mission to Demetrian. "You'll find both Delaweiss and a carriage outside the sanctuary door that you came in," she explained. "As this is both your first contract, neither of you will receive a chance at a bonus, so feel free to kill Rufus in any manner you see fit. Delaweiss has been instructed to both let either of you savor the kill and keep you alive should trouble arise. She may not show it, but she will follow those orders without fail. Take whatever time you need to prepare, but it's best not to keep Delaweiss waiting in the cold; that will only make her more unbearable." She then made a gesture with her hand to shoo the two away so they could shed some blood.

Mikhail raised an eyebrow at the sight of her fangs...So she's a vampire... I should learn curative much better, just in case. If sanguine vampiris, I think that's what it's called, isn't cured in time I'll not see the light of day again. She wouldn't bite me, would she? Yes, of course miss Babette. He then turned and looked at Demetrian, nodded his head in respect, and made his way to the exit. He saw a bow lying where the sanctuary head left it. He picked it up and went outside.

"I will make ssure our target iss killed, Sisster." The argonian hisses as he takes the envelope and bows before he turns to join the human who didn't seem to realize all of what he saw.

"You are an archer then?" He asks as he catches up without much effort. "That might come in handy if we can catch our target out in the open. Since you didn't wait for me to read our contract, clearly you know the way. Please, lead us to the kill."

We can read the contract in the carriage, Demetrian. As Babette said, it's best not to keep Delaweiss waiting. Mikhail says as he continues outside. Of coarse we'll read the contract, sure let's annoy an already hard to deal with person. I'm ok with a bow, but have much to learn if I'm to be in league with J'skar. Mikhail Sees the carriage parked out front, and makes his way to it. Ma'am? It's us. May we board? Better to be discrete, rather than announcing names outside the sanctuary.

Sitting on the edge of the carriage that was just outside the door was a rather striking Imperial woman, with a figure that was sure to draw in looks from all men and women alike, either with lust or jealousy. She wore a red velvet dress, running all the way down her long legs. In her hand, she was idly twirling a silver dagger between her fingers, expertly keeping the blade away from her sleek, shining skin. When she was addressed by the fellow Imperial, she curled her lips into a frown and scoffed. Rolling her eyes afterwards, she simply moved herself onto one side of the carriage to make room for the other two.

"Figures that kid would set me up with two of the new amateurs," she groaned to herself, "and it had to be the dork and the lizard." Looking at them with harsh eyes, she then barked at them, "Well, hurry up, rookies! I'm not one used to having to wait in this cold for long, so don't push how long I can uphold the Tenets!" The carriage driver seemed to cower behind her, ducking his head lower and pulling his hood further over his head. Delaweiss had looked back to notice this, however, and scoffed again. "Keep it to yourself, Hrodnar," she sneered. "A coward who can't keep himself from showing it has no use to the Brotherhood, and you know what that means." The man then slowly sat back up, whimpering a little before looking back, quickly gesturing for the Argonian and Imperial men to quickly get in so he wouldn't have to suffer any longer than he had to.

Dork? Amateur, yes, but dork? Well, at least she'll stab me if I stare....Mikhail gets in the carriage and looks at Demetrian, waiting for him to get in... So, Demetrian, let's have a look at that contract.

The argonian gets inside and settles in, wrapping his tail around his side. He takes the contract out and holds it out to Mikhail.

"hello, Sister." He says to Delaweiss with respect. "I apologize for the wait."

Mikhail receives the document and gives it a read. He was not paying attention to Demetrians apology, but focusing on any leads that might be there. He assumed he would have to case the target and see if she would go anywhere alone. Such an upstanding citizen... shouldn't expect anything.

Having not paid much attention to what the other two were doing, Delaweiss was looking off in the distance, looking like she would rather have been anywhere else. She heard the rustling of paper, though, and she hoped it wasn't what she thought it was, but upon seeing Mikhail reading something with intent, she groaned and quickly snatched the contract away. "What in the gods names are you doing?!" she asked with heated words. "Are you daft?! Why would you keep this on you while you're outside the sanctuary?!" Before there could be any response, she drew her dagger and proceeded to slice the paper into several shreds in less than a second, her dagger flying about in her hand in a blur.

"You don't take such sensitive information out of the safety of the sanctuary!" she continued to scold the two afterwards. "Did it not occur to either of you that we would be screwed if a Legion or Thalmor patrol just happened to search us in case we were part of the enemy army? I mean, there's a rookie mistake, and then there's...you!" She then groaned and leaned against the side of the carriage, leaning her forehead against her fingers, shaking her head and muttering to herself, "Even that pig-headed Orc would be better than this..."

Oh gods, now what... We were told not to keep you waiting, so I figured we could read that on our way. You see Demetrian and I don't know much else than who our friend is and that we were to come out here. As well that he is in a city in Skyrim.