Chapter 1: Markarth
I arrived to Markarth with the sun over me. It was a city I rarely visited. Business with the Thieves Guild brought me back here. The job was supposed to be straightforward. Steal some valuables from some orc foreman's house. I planned to also pick up some small jobs from the Jarl to earn his favor.
I made my way through the city gates and I stopped to take in my surroundings. It reminded me of my numerous explorations of the Dwemer ruins, but with a more friendlier atmosphere. The sounds of people chattering and laughing was a welcoming feeling. The smell of damp stone and raw meat was strong in the marketplace. There was a sense of confinement behind the towering stone which gave me a chill down my spine. I headed over to my house, nodding a hello to Endon as I passed. The house was always surprisingly clean and stocked of food whenever I returned. Like someone has been living in it while I was away. It was eerie at times, but I've gotten used to the numerous Daedric influences of Skyrim. I plopped my pack on the counter and placed my Nightingale Bow next to it. I grabbed some town clothes and shed my leathers. The odor of putrid sweat was strong enough to make me gag. I snatched my deerskin of water and dumped it into the washbasin. I summoned a flames spell to warm it. I soaked a rag and peered into the water to see my grimy scared reflection staring back. My skin was never flawless. Even before becoming Dragonborn. Life as an assassin tends to get one a few scrapes along the way. I grimaced at the thought of my life before and the image in the water. I dragged the rag across my face leaving a streak of fresh skin. My pale blue eyes were the only thing that has remained the same over the years. I took out my braids and washed out the mud and blood turning the water into murk. After a while, I felt satisfied I was no longer covered in a layer of grime. I felt around in my bag for a bottle of lavender perfume that I obtained from a noble's house. I pulled out the beautiful crystal bottle and applied it generously over me. I re-braided my damp hair and put on my town clothes. Careful to hide some lockpicks and my dagger. I exited the house and made my way around the lively city.
I felt the rushing water roaring underneath my feet as I walked around the Inn towards the legendary Cidhna Mine. The one prison you did not want to be captured in. Which is why only the best came to Markarth to obtain the spoils of the Silver-Bloods. I saw an orc barking orders at some miserable miners. He must have been my mark. I figured getting jobs from the Jarl would be first, since I couldn't do anything with the foreman until nightfall. I crossed over the river through a beautiful waterfall. It's as though this city was forged from nature itself. Unfortunately, the inside of the buildings were far less fresh with the smell of mildew strong in most of them. I walked around until I was standing in front of Understone Keep. I made my way up the stairs and glanced over the city. Markarth was totally different from the other holds in the land. It had its own beauty to it. I sighed and braced myself for meeting the Jarl.