Matrons of Murder

Game Master Umineko

"We know enough." Demetrian says as he watches out the carriage window. "Rufusss Delehan is wealthy and sspreads it out. He injured the pride of our contracter, and will die now. All we need to know, Mickhail, is his name and where he iss. We will learn more at the city this carriage takes us to."

The carriage started to make its way towards Whiterun shortly after Delaweiss tore up the contract, the half-day journey beginning with the clopping of hooves from the horse led by the scared-silent driver. If Delaweiss was in the mood to answer any questions, she certainly wasn't showing it, staring off into the distance with a cold look in her eyes, as if she were already bored out of her mind. She occasionally twirled her dagger between her fingers, slashing it a couple of times at an imaginary target. Every once in a while afterwards, she would then look at the two accompanying her in the carriage, then groan to herself.

Two hours passed without incident, other than a Legion patrol running on the opposite side of the road. Delaweiss just scoffed at them when one of the Imperial soldiers gave her a whistle, but then had his eyes grow wide as he patted on the shoulder of one of the others, then pointed to both Mikhail and Demetrian. The legion stopped, but the carriage kept going, and eventually the soldiers continued on at a brisk pace. Delaweiss noticed the reactions, and a sense of dread seemed to come over her as she slowly turned her head to look at the other two, then seemed like she was ready to explode.

"Why. Haven't. You. Two. Changed. Out. Of. Your. Armor?!" she asked angrily, putting emphasis on each word. "Don't you realize it's illegal to advertise ties to the Brotherhood?! We're murderers! The law in each province wants our heads, each and every one! How stupid can you be to think you can just wear your armor outside the sanctuary in broad daylight?! Nazir should've told you it's just tradition! Why the hell did you think I was looking away from you two the entire time we were riding towards Whiterun?! You two are LUCKY those legion soldiers were rookies, too afraid to deal with trained assassins--well, one trained assassin--to do anything about us! PLEASE tell me you two actually have a change of clothes on you!"

Demetrian decides to bite his tongue, figuratively, and simply nod as he grabs his pack from the floor and starts changing swiftly. He'd notice she hadn't looked at them much, but hadn't thought anything of it at the time. He'd imagined she simply hadn't wanted to be saddled with new Brothers, and it showed now.

"You ssuprisse me, Ssister. I had not expected you to be... He paused as he searched for the word he thought best. "Respectful of modesty. It is a nice change of pace."

Good thing I didn't have to part with my armor. I thought we were required to wear something of our affiliation. Mikhail quickly changes into his old leather armor as per Delaweiss's call for common sense. He then puts the armor into his pack, determined not to open it for the rest of the mission. Thank you for letting us know it's not a requirement to wear our armor. We didn't want to disobey Nazir. To tell you the truth, I was quite afraid to come out dressed that way.

Delaweiss rolled her eyes at Demetrian's comment, muttering under her breath, "Like I'd want to look at a scaly, slimy hide, anyway," then rolled them again and shook her head at Mikhail's explanation as to why they kept their armor on. "Should've just let me do this on my own," she continued to say under her breath, "but no, have to babysit. Didn't even get to go to Cyrodiil..." She kept her eyes away from the other two as they changed, and luckily there were no other travelers or soldiers along the road for the rest of the way.

After four more hours of riding along the roads leading to Whiterun, the carriage stopped in seemingly the middle of nowhere, about two minutes left of riding before they got to the gates. Dealweiss seemed to let out a sigh of relief as she slowly started to make her way out of the coach. "Finally..." she muttered to herself as she dropped down gracefully, her velvet dress flowing smoothly before her feet hit the ground.

"If I have any hope of saving you two if--scratch that, when--you two get into trouble, I can't be seen in the same carriage, associated with you," she explained, sounding like everything she was saying should've been obvious. "You two go in first, figure out what you need to find out about your mark, and get it done. I certainly won't be holding your hands, no matter how much you need it. You're lucky I was ordered to keep you rookies alive, and you're lucky that it's me that got the order; most others wouldn't be as nice as I am about this. Just do your job, and for the love of Sithis, don't make me look bad!" She sheathed her dagger as the carriage started to move again, then she called out, "If you rookies somehow aren't being chased by guards after you're done, find me in The Bannered Mare so we can get out of this gods-forsaken city!"

When the carriage arrives at the city, Mikhail was obviously a bit nervous. Although he got away with murder before, he hadn't done anything on the fly like this.It's crunch time... He then gets out of the carriage, and beckons Demetrian,Well, this is our stop. Let's see if we can find our friend. Mikhail tried to say confidently, but was almost monotone in his speech. He then made his way into the city.

Demetria's hadn't stopped grinning since the 'slimy' comment, knowing full well humans could get considerably slimier than any Argonian.

"Relax, Mikhail, today we are tourists exploring Skyrim's cities, nothing more." He says simply as he steps down from the carriage. "Mingle. Listen to rumors. First we learn, then we meet our friend. Just like my time at the Academy."

Mikhail thought back to the incident where the imperial soldiers saw the two people (Demetrain and Mikhail) in dark brotherhood armor. He hoped they didn't see his face under the hood. Gods, I hope we don't already have a bounty... He then walked up to the city gate, wondering if the guards where notified of his description. Just act natural... Don't make eye contact. he thought as he made his way through the gates.

It didn't seem like anyone walking around in Whiterun was informed about Demetrian's and Mikhail's alliance with the guild of murder, though it did seem that Mikhail got some looks, possibly due to the way he was handling himself as he walked around, thinking too hard on how he appeared. The day was starting to wind down, the sun starting to set, it having been at its peak before the murderers made their trip to the city. Various people were walking around, mostly Nords, with the few socialites and cliques talking around the market district. Most of the conversations were of mundane topics, such as what was bought that day, rumors of the Companions' latest job, and who threw the first punch in the drunken brawl at the tavern. One conversation, though, was on the subject of the mark, Rufus Delehan, between two Nord women. One seemed to be sizing him up for marriage, while the other was chastising her for wanting such a skinny man, though she agreed that Rufus was much nicer than any Nord around the city.

As Mikhail saw that the guards weren't after him. He began to relax. Still focused on the task at hand, he began to eavesdrop on the two women discussing Rufus. He will try not to be seen by the women themselves, but appear to others that may see him that he was just hanging out. Not many skinny Nords.

The two women seemed to be unaware that Mikhail was eavesdropping on them, and the conversation continued for a while afterwards. It was mostly just the one woman playfully picking on the other, with not too much more important information to be gathered. It was mentioned, however, that it was amazing how such a rich man had such a small house, and how it was behind the only house for sale, and how an Imperial such as him could manage to drink so much every night like a Nord; apparently, watching him drink in The Bannered Mare every night was something both women enjoyed. One then mentioned that the sun was going down, and that the two would meet up again the next day.

As Mikhail heard the whereabouts of the Imperial's home he then found Demetrian. Then, in private, quietly... Our friend drinks at the Bannered mare frequently and lives at the house behind the one for sale. I could pay him a visit tonight, he gave me the key. Mikhail then, briefly shows Demetrian his lockpick.

"Interesting.... Go now and check his house out first. If needed I will distract the guards while you use your key. Going to visit him is no good if you bump into a table and knock down enough plates and bowls to wake the city, will? After that, perhaps we should get a light meal at the Bannered Mare just so we know a little of what our target looks like..."

I can cast a spell to see in the dark, so that won't be necessary. Let's go find our friend and have dinner. Mikhail then makes his way to the Bannered Mare.

Demetrian grabs Mikhail's wrist and holds him in place.

"Do you not think, Imperial?!" He hisses under his breath so only Mikhail can hear him. b]"I don't care if you can see in the murky depthss of Black Marssh! Someone needs to get in and get information, the key to our success. Where does he sleep? Are there signs he doesn't live alone, or even has a bedfellow? Does he have a guard dog? Answer those questions and maybe we can both go back home with sssome meassure of pride in a job well done."[/b]

Gods, he's right. Then quietly, Alright, Demetrian. Let's check out the house behind the one for sale. You be my lookout while I use the key. Mikhail then goes looking for the house for sale. He looks for houses with a for sale sign, if not, perhaps an empty house. Then goes to the rear of it to find the residence of Rufus Delehan. Should be smaller than the other houses...

It didn't take much detective work for the two to find Rufus's house, the house for sale they used as a landmark easily spotted with a big "For Sale!" sign on the door, next to the weapons smithy. It appeared that, despite his popularity and business success, Rufus lived a rather frugal life, his house just barely bigger than a shack. It seemed to be kept in a good condition, however, and seemed cozy enough from the outside.

As Mikhail attempted to open the door with his "key," however, he found there was very little resistance to the pick. In fact, it felt like he didn't really have to do anything at all. The door was already unlocked, despite it being clear that no one was home, seeing as no candles were lit and no fire in the fireplace was set.

As Mikhail found that no one was home, he peered in to see where Rufus slept. He also waned to see if he had a pet or if anyone else, however unlikely, slept there.No one home...

Demetrian kept on in the windows for a moment before taking a few minutes to map out the way around the house, looking for creaky floorboards that might give them away later.

"How well can you hold your ale, Brother Mikhail?" He asks as soon as he's done.

I'll just have a meal tonight and perhaps have a drink some other time. Mikhail said, focused on the task at hand. Want to be sober for this... He then makes his way over to the Bannered mare, with Demetrian. Once there he was looking for the two women who said they like to watch Rufus drink. To see who they, or one of them, where swooning over.

Searching through the house seemed to say that Rufus indeed lived alone, his house being just one room, though he was very well-organized. Business transactions and his ledger were on a desk near the fireplace, as well as parchment, ink, quills, and a small jewelry box. There was only the single bed, and the single fireplace. The floors barely creaked as Demetrian walked across them, almost muffling every footstep. There was only one other door to his house, which led to a small closet that held various articles of clothing.

When the two made their way to The Bannered Mare, they would find that it was rather crowded, as was per the usual for the time of day. There were at least twenty people, all of them human, save for Demetrian, and almost all of the were Nords. The sound of idle chatter filled the room, and the crackling of the fire in the center could just barely be heard over it. At the bar, there were several customers, but only one of them was an Imperial, and he was drinking mead straight out of gallon bottle with a big grin across his lips. It seemed that he was telling jokes with the two Nords beside him, and all three were laughing, though it looked like they were just barely able to keep on their stools. The bar tender then looked at the two assassins, unknowing of their contract and mark, and waved to them. "Ah, welcome, travelers," she yelled at them. "Come, have a seat by the fire, if you can find one, and have a drink! Always glad to see newcomers to Whiterun, skin or scales on their hides!"

I'll have some steak, a baked potato, and a bottle of mead. He then tried to have a seat by the fire, across the room from Rufus. When served he ate his food and tried to appear he was drinking. He would let the mead touch his lips, but swallow his food instead of his food and the mead. After finishing his food, he would take his drink to go after Rufus, hopefully, made his way to his home.

Demetrian, in comparison, slipped a bit of his specialty over the time spent in the Bannered Mare.

"Tell me, do you have a lamb ssstew? I've heard Sskyrim had the best lamb sstew this side of Black Marssh!" He laughs happily and sits at the bar just a single patron away from his target. He spent his time eating and sipping at a tankard of Honeybrew while jovially swapping stories and entertaining the other patrons with a bit of Alteration trickery, including making Rufus's trousers suddenly -and briefly- turn into a dress! The drunkards all got a good laugh from that and even Demetrain was having a good time, genuinely enjoying his game of Cat and Mouse.

If there was one thing a Nord could always spot, it was when a milk-drinker wasn't actually drinking his mead. Three Nords were beside Mikhail, and one that was less-than-sober slapped him on the back. "Come on, milk-drinker, take a real sh--sip of mead!" he slurred at him while the other two laughed at him. "Ye...ya don't want to be insultin' good Nord tradition, do ya?!" One more slap fell upon Mikhail's back, with enough force to jostle him just enough to make the rest of his baked potato fall into the fire. This made just about everyone drunk enough to point and laugh at Mikhail.

Meanwhile, even the bartender was getting a good laugh from Demetrian's spells, and thankfully Rufus and his buddies were too drunk to get offended; one even fell off his stool and onto the floor, he was laughing so hard. Another Nord grasped Demetrian on the shoulder and shook him a little. "Finally, a scale-back who getsh it!" he slurred. "I...this callsh for another round! Olfina, mead for all of ush...on Rufush!" This declaration made most of the Nords, as well as the two Redguards near the fire, cheer in celebration, and Rufus just held his hands up in the air, as if he expected it.

"Now...now hang on...h-hang on!" he slowly started to say, the mead obviously taking its toll on his cognitive functions. "It's...it'sh...it IS getting dark, ssssho...so yeah, another round!" Everyone around laughed, and the bartender and the barmaid both went to the back, shaking their heads as they both pulled out large trays of mead, handing bottles to everyone they could get to.

Mikhail smiles, nods and drinks his mead. Yeah, why not? I'm at a tavern, time to loosen up. Gods, they're passing around more... Maybe Rufus will leave the door unlocked. Yea, he'll just crash. Everyone in the town loves him and as charitable as he is he wouldn't expect anyone to break in.