Voltaire, the argonian listener for the Dark Brotherhood, sighed as he waited outside the Dawnstar sanctuary entry with Shadowmere, an ever faithful companion in his travels, for Cicero to make his appearance.

"'Cicero will be out in a minute'," The Listener mumbled angrily, mocking his underling, sharp teeth snapping. "Bloody fool." Shadowmere snorted at his current master's words, as if agreeing with the light scaled argonian, who wore red war paint all over his features, matching the feather like features between curled horns on his head. "It has already been an hour! I swear, I should have just slaughtered him."

"Oh, Listener, that hurts Cicero's feelings, it does." Voltaire nearly jumped a foot of the ground, something he never did, when the jester seemed to materialize out of nowhere. The odd tone of speech the imperial used did set his nerves on high alert, no matter what. "Sithis, do you really have to do that?" The argonian hissed, tail snapping angrily. "Do what?" the Keeper tilted his head to the side 'innocently', making the other male growl in frustration. "Gah! Never mind. You know where to meet me, right?"

"Yes, yes! The tavern in Solitude! …Though I do not see why The Listener is lowering his self to doing," The imperial pulled a face. "a Thieves' guild job."

"To keep relations good. Besides, it is also for the Bla-"

"Oh, who cares? Let's just kill someone!" With a sigh, Voltaire just hung his head and pointed east. "Just…just go."

"Hehehehe!" and off went the insane 'Fool of hearts'. Once the other male was out of sight, and for the time being, out of mind, the argonian Listener summoned another companion worth travelling with. "Ah, Listener, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Hello, Lucien, I just figured I would have myself an intelligent conversation for once." The specter of the Speaker chuckled. "Of course, I would be delighted."

-x-

After a few days of travelling, killing the occasional bear, bandit, troll, and so on, Voltaire made it to Solitude. "It was nice to speak with you, my Listener."

"Same with you, LaChance. Do not get too comfortable in The Void; I might need you again soon." And with that, the ghost faded into nothing.

After putting Shadowmere in the stables, much to the ancient creature's disapproval, the argonian changed out of his armor and into bland funeral wear, so not to be recognized as easily by the guards.

Voltaire hunched over as he scurried into the Winking Skeever. Things did not go exactly as planned as he entered Solitude. One of the guards seemed to have recognized him; possibly from that little 'stunt' Astrid made him pull a few months back. Thankfully, the argonian was gifted with a silver tongue, and was able to convince the nord otherwise. Though, as soon as he entered the tavern, he instantly wished he had been caught and tossed into jail. The imperial jester obviously had not been lying low, like Voltaire had been praying he would. No, he seemed to have pissed off everyone within the general area. "...and he says to the man, 'That's not a horker! That's my wife!' Hahahahaha...Ah...I love that one!"

"Boo!"

"Shut up imperial!"

"Get out of here!"

Now, the Listener was very aware that the insane jester was capable of taking care of himself, but as he watched a few angry nords advance on the fool, the argonian instantly reached out, yanking one of the would be attackers back by his ponytail. "What the Hell!" The nord thrashed, but Voltaire gave a harsh tug to the pale strands, effectively halting the struggles. "Now," the argonian started, blank blue orbs glaring harshly at the surrounding men. "I hope you gentlemen still have no intention of harming my friend here, or your friend," the nord made a very unmanly squeal when the angry 'lizard' yanked harder than before. "Will get a new, painful, haircut." Swears and angry grumbling met his ears, but the nords moved away from the jester. With a growl and swear of his own, the pale scaled argonain shoved the nord at his friends, then grabbed Cicero by the front of his tunic, and dragged him to the bar counter. "Two rooms, please." The man stared at the fuming argonian, then at the ever smiling imperial, and finally the argonian's tail, which was swishing around threateningly. "A-ah, we o-only have one room-"

"That's fine. Fifteen gold? Here," Voltaire shoved triple of that into the other man's hand. "Three nights worth." And with that, the Black Marsh native dragged the cackling jester up the stairs. "Shut up!" the sound of a fist colliding with the top of Cicero's head sounded, then it was quiet, though it sounded like Voltaire was now literally dragging the Keeper.