Chapter One

"That will be 6 gold coins." The barkeep said, holding out his hand. The man on the other side of the bar made a surprised face, as if he saw something he couldn't believe. "6 gold coins? This is basically robbery!"

The barkeep grunted, not impressed. "I don't haggle with my prices. Either open your coin purse, or go thirsty."

"Well, hard to argue with that." The man said, smiling and pulling 6 coins out of his coin purse. He dropped them into the barkeeps hand, and the barkeep rewarded him with a mug of ale. The man took his mug and sat at a bench next to the fire pit in the middle of the inn, warming his hands up with the fire while warming his body up with the ale. The inn wasn't very busy that night and had very few people in it. That wasn't too surprising; it was an inn outside the city, and not the finest inn at that. Most people would prefer to just walk the one mile into the city and find a better inn. But this man didn't mind; he tried to avoid big cities whenever he could, they had too many cut purses.

The man was taking a second chug of his ale when he looked over and saw that someone was sitting besides him. He blinked, not hearing nor seeing the man sit down, and looked at his ale. "This must be more potent stuff than I thought. I did not know you were next to me sir."

The man, who had a cowl covering his face, said nothing at first. There was an awkward silence in the air for a few moments before the man in the cowl asked; "Is your name Hanzel?" the voice was rough, as if the stranger had a sore throat.

Hanzel nodded, surprised. "You know me stranger? I feel at a disadvantage; I do not know you. How did you come across my name?"

"I do not know you personally, but someone out there does." The hooded man said, sounding every bit as mysterious as he looked. He stood up suddenly, making Hanzel jump a bit.

"Do not panic, but I saw a group of bandits on my way here, looking for trouble. If I were you, I suggest leaving before they arrive if you value your life." With that the hooded man took his leave, exiting the inn as if it would burst into flames any second.

Hanzel did not know what to make of this; what he did know was that he paid for this mug of ale, and he was going to finish it, bandits or not. As he was chugging the rest of it, he heard the doors to the inn open. He turned to look and his heart jumped into his throat; a group of rough looking men wearing old armor walked into the inn, laughing and cursing loudly.

Thinking that the hooded man was smarter than he looked, he got up, slowly going around the bench and heading towards the door. Every second he was passing the group he thought they would draw their weapons and cut him down. By the time he passed them, he was sweating and realized he had been holding his breath. He let it out, not wanting to test his luck further and leaving the inn.

The air was chilly this night, with a beautiful view of the full moon and millions of stars. Hanzel stopped for a few seconds, trying to calm down and admire the view at the same time. He had just got his breathing back to normal when he felt someone place a hand on his shoulder, making him jump with fright. He turned to see the hooded man from before, and sighed in relief.

"You gave me quite the scare there stranger." Then he assessed his situation, and crossed his arms. "Those weren't bandits were they? You lied to me."

"No, they were actually bandits." The hooded man simply said, and as if they were listening, Hanzel heard sounds of fighting and screaming from inside the inn. He went to open the door, saying, "We should go and try to he-"But he was cut off as he felt something hit his gut and felt a burst of pain. He looked up to see that the hooded man had pulled out a dagger and stabbed him.

"You soul has been claimed for Lord Sithis. You should be honored." He said, twisting the dagger and making Hanzel shake and scream before yanking the dagger out, sending a splash of blood over the floor and his boots. Hanzel fell to the ground, clutching his gut and looking at the hooded man with confusion in his eyes.

"Why? What did…I do to y-you?" He managed to say before coughing up blood. The man in the hood drew back his cowl and kneeled next to him, looking him dead in the eyes. As Hanzel was dying, feeling his body slowly grow cold as his blood left his body and made a puddle around him, he realized that his murderer was an Argonian, with bright yellow eyes and green scales, reflecting the moonlight and appearing to shine.

"I do not know you personally; but someone out there does; that someone wanted your life taken from you, and they wanted it to look natural. I doubt that anyone will question your death after seeing what the bandits did to those poor people inside. I am not the one who asks for your death, just the one who delivers it." With that the Argonian stood up, pulled his cowl over his face, and left, the last image Hanzel ever seeing was the Argonian walking away as he lay there and bled to death.

.

"Kliftar! How was your last assignment?"The Wood Elf yelled, jumping off of the table she had been standing on and landing before Kliftar. It was one of his few friends, Sheila, a small Elf with short dirty blond hair and hazelnut colored eyes. She jumped from one foot to the other, full of energy as she always was. He didn't answer at first, but her bouncing was annoying him, and he finally gave in.

"It's like it always is. I went, confirmed the target, and killed him." Kliftar wasn't much for talking; being an Argonian, he had always been told that his voice sounded hideous as a child growing up in Skyrims cold and unforgivable environment. That and he just didn't like speaking much in general.

Sheila crossed her arms and pouted, not convinced. "Come on Kliftar, that can't be all of it. I heard it was a special one, and that Mahargo specifically picked you for the job."

Mahargo was the leader of their little band of killers. He wasn't the leader for no reason; the previous leader tried to assassinate him, and ended up dying. Kliftar looked around, trying to find somewhere to escape and failing.

"Well, a little bird told me that they found our friends target dead along with three other people inside the inn. Apparently, Bandits ransacked the place, killing everyone and taking anything of value before leaving." Another member, Thorin, said, leaning against a wall and smiling. He was tall, with short black hair and dark brown eyes.

"Oooo you made it look like the bandits did it? How? How did you even know the bandits would attack the inn?" Sheila asked, bombarding him with questions as always. He shrugged, only responding with, "Lucky guess."

In truth, he paid the bandits 100 gold to attack the inn. He actually expected them to kill the target for him, but they let him just walk out the door. There was no problem; he told the target about them just in case they didn't kill him. Either way the targets fate was sealed, his soul resting with Lord Sithis now.

"No surprise that the great Kliftar pulled of his assassination to the letter, meeting the exact conditions that were given to him." Thorin said, smirking. Kliftar just looked at him, not responding. It was no secret that Thorin was jealous that Mahargo gave the more challenging targets to him. It was good that Thorin wasn't the type to kill to gain favor, or Kliftar would have to watch what he ate and sleep with one eye open.

"Let him be Thorin; you will have the chance to prove yourself." A voice said, coming from a tall Nord walking into the room. The Nords name was Jax. He had long brown hair and sky blue eyes. Jax was the kindest member they had; always worrying about all of them and cooking dinner for everyone. Kliftar was the most wary of him; He might seem like a gentle giant, but his targets were the most brutalized out of all of them, the families barely able to identify them. He was not someone to underestimate, so Kliftar made sure not to.

"I've proven myself plenty; Mahargo just has a crush on Kliftar, and treats him like a babe still sucking the teat." Thorin responded, smiling but giving Kliftar a cold stare at the same time. Kliftar was used to this; Thorin was very vocal about what bothers him. Kliftar did what he always did; He simply walked away, going up the stairs to the second floor. He heard Thorin saying some childish remark as he left, but it never bothered him. He didn't care what others thought about him.

He walked into the rest room, with beds lined up against the wall and chests at the foot of the beds. He walked over to his bed, quiet as a shadow, and pulled out his key, unlocking his chest. As he was about to open it, he felt a presence behind him. He simply went on with what he was doing, taking off his cloak and putting it into the chest. If someone wanted to speak to him, they would eventually.

"Kliftar. The mission was successful I take it?" A feminine voice said from behind him. He instantly recognized it as Marandurs voice and allowed a smirk to creep across his face, though it most likely looked like he was snarling, him being an Argonian and all. He turned around, looking at the Dunmer. She was of average height, with the trademark red eyes all Dark Elves have and long black hair with odd gray streaks running through it.

"Do you have to ask?" He answered, walking over to his bed and sitting on the edge of it. She followed him, standing in front of him and smirking. "Someone's beginning to get arrogant."

"It has nothing to do with that." He responded, moving his tail to a more comfortable position and glaring at it. The tail is the one thing he wished he could trade with the Khajiit; their tails were flexible, able to move easier and even wrap around items. His tail was more rigid, making sitting or laying down a game of pick the right position.

"You are the only Argonian I know that hates your own tail." Marandur said, pulling him out of his own head. He said nothing; she knew him better than any other member of the Dark Brotherhood, and he learned early that it was pointless to argue with her.

She poked him between his eyes, something she knew he hated because his eyes were wider apart than the other races, making him have a blind spot right in the middle of his face. "By the way, Mahargo said he wanted to speak to you." She said, taking a step back just in case; he had only swung at her once when he was grumpy, and she learned from her mistakes.

He sighed, standing up and walking towards Mahargo's room. Being the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, he was the only one that got a room to himself. Kliftar walked back downstairs, feeling his tail touch every step on the way down. He noticed that everyone had dispersed and felt better; he didn't feel like being bugged by Sheila, or being complained about by Thorin.

He stopped outside the doorway of Mahargo's room. There was no door, but he didn't need to knock or make himself known; a few seconds later he heard Mahargo tell him to come forward. He stepped into the room, finding Mahargo in his usual spot, sitting on the ground. He indicated in front of him, and Kliftar obeyed, sitting down across from him, crossing his legs. At least when he sat on the floor he didn't have to move his tail around.

"Mahargo greets you, Kliftar, and welcomes you back. Mahargo is glad to see you return safely." He said, attempting to smile and running into the same problem Kliftar has. "Tell Mahargo, did you run into any problems?'

Kliftar shook his head. "None. It was an easy target with an easy set of objectives the client wanted. I gave his soul to Sithis, and made it look like bandits did it. Nothing special."

But Mahargo shook his head, as Kliftar expected he would. "Do not belittle yourself green one. Making a death look like an accident is never an easy task, but you do it gracefully and with no mishaps. Not many people, even assassins, could pull that off as well as you do."

"You could." Kliftar said. Mahargo had never once been spotted by a witness, nor has any target ever escaped him. Most guards and imperial soldiers don't even know he exists. He is more like a shadow than a Khajiit, and is the closest to Sithis out of all of them. There was a reason he lead the Dark Brotherhood.

He nodded. "Yes, Mahargo could. But Mahargo was not as talented at your age as you are. If you keep up as you are, you will pass old Mahargo up easily, and could become the new leader of the Dark Brotherhood."

"A position you know I do not want." Kliftar said, not for the first time. He had made it clear to Mahargo that he had no intentions of leading them. The only thing he was good at was killing, and it was all he really wanted to do.

To his surprise, Mahargo chuckled. "Mahargo knows this, friend. Do not fret, Mahargo only teases." Then his face grew serious, and it was rare for someone who was usually laid back. "There is a matter that we must discuss before I tell the rest of the Brotherhood."

That caught Kliftars attention. "And what might that be?'

"While you were away, pursuing your target, Durag the Black Hand got a new target from the Night Mother." Mahargo said. Kliftar had never seen him this serious. He thought about the Night Mother and shuddered; He followed her faithfully, but he did not envy the Listener, Durag the Black Hand, who had to talk to the withered corpse every day.

"The target is the biggest target we have ever received, one that Mahargo doubts even we can kill." He looked Kliftar dead in the eye and said, "The target is the Dovahkiin."

Kliftar just blinked, trying to process what he just heard. The target…was the Dragonborn? The most powerful mortal in the known world, the man who killed Alduin and basically saved the world? "You are right Mahargo, that is the biggest target we have ever received. But why council with me before telling the others?"

Mahargo didn't answer right away. When he did, he answered with a question. "I need to know your honest opinion; who should take this job and try to kill the Dovahkiin?"

Kliftar didn't have to think very hard. "You Mahargo. You are the best of us, and the only one that stands a chance in my opinion."

Mahargo smiled, and Kliftar knew he wouldn't like what Mahargo said next. "Thanks for the praise, friend…but Mahargo will not take this job. Mahargo grows old; it is time for the young ones to step up and take Mahargos place."

Kliftar sighed, not surprised but knowing that he couldn't change the old cats mind. Once Mahargo said something, it was final. "So it will be up to us to kill the Dragonborn. Who will you assign this to?"

"Mahargo will not assign this to anyone." He said, surprising Kliftar again; he was not normally surprised this many times in one day. "Mahargo will let anyone who wants to go take the job."

Kliftar nodded, not knowing what else to do. This was a special target, so he guessed it needed special circumstances. He stood up and looked down at the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. "So, let's get this over with."

.

The members of the Dark Brotherhood stood there in silence, absorbing what they had just heard. Kliftar had already heard it once, so he was waiting to see what happened next, leaning against the wall behind everyone.

"Are you serious Mahargo?" Jax asked, looking concerned. "The Dovahkiin? We might as well be asked to try and kill a god."

"But he isn't a god." Thorin said, grinning. Out of the entire group, he was the only one who was smiling; Kliftar knew he was arrogant, but to think he could kill the Dragonborn by himself?

"He is mortal, and mortals can be killed." Thorin continued, walking up to the front of the group. "I want this target Mahargo."

Everyone was silent for awhile, waiting to see what Mahargo would say. Mahargo looked at all of them and finally said, "Is he the only one?"

No one spoke up; unlike Thorin, the rest knew their limits, and didn't want to go on a suicide mission. Kliftar sighed; Thorin was a skilled assassin, but Kliftar did not think he was capable of killing the Dragonborn. Kliftar slowly raised his hand and said, "He is not the only one."

Everyone looked back at him, but it was Thorin who Kliftar was looking at; Thorin was glaring at him, enraged. "What? Getting all of the best targets isn't good enough for you, is it? No, you just have to have the biggest of them all."

Kliftar held his glare, not flinching or backing down. "It has nothing to do with wanting it. I do not think you capable of killing the Dragonborn."

Now everyone looked stun, even Thorin; He wasn't known for challenging Thorin. Most of the time he just ignored Thorin, heading to his bed. He had never openly spoken against him, especially not to say he skilled enough to kill a target.

Thorin's surprise turned to anger again, and he walked over to Kliftar and got right into his face. "I'm sorry, I do not think I heard you correctly; why don't you say it again."

Kliftar slightly turned his head, angry now because Thorin had gone into his blind spot without realizing it. "I'll say it as many times as I need to. What will you do to stop me?"

They stood there, staring each other down, when Mahargo finally stepped forward. "Enough you two." Mahargo said sternly. He did not yell; he didn't need to. Thorin and Kliftar glared at each other for a few more seconds, and then Thorin grunted, walking away from Kliftar.

"Now that I have everyone's attention again." Mahargo said, calm as always. "Both Thorin and Kliftar have offered to take the target. So both of them will get too."

Kliftar blinked, almost not believing what he had just heard. "Both of us?"

Mahargo nodded. "Yes. There is more to this target than just killing him. Have none of you wondered why we haven't heard of the Dovahkiin in years?"

Kliftar thought back. Now that Mahargo mentioned it, it had been a few years since there had been any news of the Dragonborn. No one else said anything, also realizing this.

"The Dovahkiin disappeared soon after Alduins death. Unlike most heroes, who would bathe in the glory that comes from killing a mighty enemy, the Dovahkiin went into hiding. No one has been able to find him since then. It would be foolish to send one assassin to try and find someone who does not want to be found, and then kill them." He looked at Thorin, then at Kliftar.

"So, I will allow both of you to search. Whoever finds him first and brings back proof of his death will get the reward money. If I don't hear from either of you in a year, I will find and kill him myself."

Mahargo stopped to let it sink in. He didn't say it, but there was a hidden message in those words; whoever killed the Dragonborn would take his place as the leader of the Dark Brotherhood. Kliftar was hesitant now; He didn't want to lead them, but he also didn't want Thorin too. He sighed, realizing that Mahargo had set a trap for him, and he had blundered into it.

Thorin realized this too, his smile returning. "Sounds good to me. I will find the Dragonborn, and I will prove that he is a simple mortal." With that Thorin walked off, no thinking or planning at all. This did not surprise Kliftar one bit; he only hoped that the fool would never find the Dragonborn.

Everyone started talking at once, making Kliftars head hurt. He quickly fled from the crowded area, escaping into the kitchen and deciding that he might as well eat. As he was making food he felt a presence. He knew who it was due to the chill that always runs down his spine whenever he is around her. He slowly turned around and met eyes with Durag the Black Hand.

She was an orc, easily over six feet tall with short black hair. She dressed in a long black robe, and was the most mysterious person Kliftar knew. He sat down next to her, wondering if she had something to say; she was wise just like Mahargo, and it was always a good idea to listen when she spoke.

"Rare to find you here at this time Durag." Kliftar said, knowing that Durag talked even less than he did. He thought she wouldn't respond, but she smiled slightly, surprising him; she usually had a blank expression all the time.

"You can not imagine the joy I felt hearing the Night Mother utter the Dovahkiins name to me. It is the biggest name we have ever received, and I look forward to seeing who will end his life."

Kliftar said nothing, not knowing what to say. As mysterious as ever, Durag stood up and walked away. Right before she turned the corner, she turned said, "I believe it will be you that finds him." And with that she was gone to wherever she goes. He sighed, knowing that there was no backing out, and went to his bed to pack supplies.

It was going to be a long trip.