Lisbet.
My life was simple enough. Just the monotonous task of going into the swamps by Markarth daily to pick mushrooms, Deathbell, or any other herb or spice I found. Occasionally, a feral wolf would attack me, and although they were weak, they frightened me. I enjoy reading medical journals or alchemy books to learn of cures to various diseases. That's the reason the wolves scare me, because of Rockjoint. But, when I do manage to kill them without extracting anything, it doesn't hurt to sin them and collect their meat to sell on. That is what I am, a merchant.
My name is Lisbet and I… haven't done things I am proud of. I continue to do things I am not proud of. But I won't tell anyone, no, that would be the end of me. So I won't tell you. I'm not even sure what you are. Are you my conscience? No, probably not. If you were, you would know what I have done. But you don't, do you?
I was attacked by those goddamned Forsworn. Bastards. They took my beloved Dibella statue, that's why I can't sell any of the things I collect from various places. Bah, enough of that.
I was walking down the street today, going to ask the Jarl if I could borrow one of her books. She has quite a collection. She likes me, I think, though she is quite crazy. She has visions, she sees things. That house that burned down, she told me show knows something about it. Apparently the child that died in there still lurks around, poor soul.
I was almost there, when I heard a large crunch. I turned, slowly, frightened, as the guards ran towards me.
'Run!' one of them yelled.
The others fired arrows. Then, a deafening roar, icy breath shattering wooden posts, freezing the swampy water over. I turned, and there before me was a monolithic creature. Talons, wings, razor teeth, frills, and icicles hanging from its chin.
'Fus!' A man yelled, as I turned again, ready to run, 'Ro, DAH!'
An incredible force shot out towards the beast, making it rear up and stumble backwards.
Immensely powerful that man must be if he can cause a dragon to stumble down simply by uttering a few words.
I ran back to my store, but I didn't go inside. That thing would probably make the roof cave in. Bastard. I stopped on the patio, and watched the fight. That man pulled out a large axe and hacked at the beast, slashing at its scaly skin. Blood poured onto the ground. The dragon grabbed one of the guards in it's mouth and swung him around, clearly snapping his back. It threw it's head backwards, flinging the near-dead guard hundreds of feet away.
'Joor, Zah, FRUL!' the man yelled. The dragon screamed in pain, as a blue mist like essence ripped out of it's chest, temporarily.
More hacking. More blood. The beast fell dead, it's skin burning and flaking off.
'Dragonborn!' the guards yelled.
I went inside, shaking. I approached my bedroom, but stopped short. The door hadn't closed. I turned.
'Dark Brotherhood.' I muttered.
'Someone has completed the Black Sacrament, and instructed me to kill you,' the man replied.
'I knew this would come. Bastard.' I spat, 'and I know why. I am a cannibal, you see…'
He didn't let me finish. He lunged forwards, blades in hand.
He let out a small gasp, and slumped into me. I kneeled down, resting his chin on my shoulder.
'And I bet you taste delicious…' I finished, as I dropped him backwards, my usually-sheathed blade sticking out of his gut.
I dragged him into my room.
I would eat tonight.