'Azrael, Azrael!'

'Yes, Vekel?'

The barman put his hand on the doorjamb and panted. His eyes were wide open, but the Assassin suspected the man wasn't scared. He was just in a hurry. He had come there to warn him. Of what? That was beyond his ability to understand people.

'Elves… The Thalmor.'

Azrael stole him a cold glance, turned around and clapped his hands twice.

'Bryn, Karliah. We're going. Grab your weapons.'

The two Nightingales didn't don their signature armor. Those were safe beside their beds. Nevertheless, the studded leather of the Thieves Guild suit would have sufficed. They didn't plan to be seen in the first place; if the durability of the armor became a factor, than something had gone wrong. Karliah grabbed her bow and arrows and Brynjolf his two daggers. The Assassin double-checked the position of his own weapons and turned at Vekel again. He needed every bit of information possible before lunging into the Thalmor's jaws.

'How many of them?'

'They're just scouts,' answered Vekel. 'They didn't exactly ask if they could go into the Warrens. They threatened me and there was no one around! Are you short on time?'

'Maybe. They need the target alive, so that will give us some more. You,' he said, turning back at his two fellow Nightingales, 'done?'

'Aye, lad.'

'Yes, Azrael.'

'Good. Vekel, if any more Thalmor show up send them where you sent the others.'

'But… They'll come your way!'

'Exactly. And we'll be waiting for them.'

Vekel stood motionless for a moment, looking at the Guild Master and his two colleagues leaving the Cistern. The Assassin walked fast. His legs were long and his steps were even longer. The two behind him had to pace very quickly to keep up. The grim silhouette of the Assassin vanished behind the corner a moment later; the last thing disappearing was the cloak, black as night. Brynjolf and Karliah walked side by side behind him, like two bodyguards, and followed him in the passageway.

'So,' said Brynjolf, while Azrael opened the door to the Flagon, 'in for a second hunt, are we?'

'We are.'

'First we set out to return the Skeleton Key,' chuckled Karliah, 'and now we're going to save someone. Things have really become messed up around here.'

'Not entirely my fault,' replied the Assassin.

'No, sure,' concurred Brynjolf, grinning, as they reached the door to the Warrens. 'However, your arrival seems to be a sign of the times.'

'Bryn, it's you humans who are obsessed with that. The twenty-five years Karliah spent running might seem a lot to you, but it may have been a tenth of her life.'

'Shor's Beard…' swore Bryn. 'Don't even want to think about a bunch of grumpy old Dark Elves discussing.'

'That's the exact what I always think about listening to a Nord of any age.'

The three laughed quietly and then took position. The corridor was rather narrow, and they moved organized their formation using that. Azrael flattened against the wall on the left, Karliah on the right and Brynjolf acted as a rearguard. The Assassin crept forward, looking if anything was in sight. Karliah would have warned him if she saw someone behind him. They tiptoed along the corridor, searching for enemy activity. Azrael guessed the Thalmor weren't far. Vekel had informed them just a couple of minutes before, and the Thalmor like to scavenge every nook and cranny.

'Azrael…' whispered Karliah. 'Behind you, on the other side.'

The Assassin was at the corner at the end of the corridor. There was a room with multiple floors, all of which were visible. Grates covered the openings, but the two Altmer patrolling down there were not invisible. They even carried torches. He peaked over the corner and looked at the one Karliah had warned him about. He was standing, looking the opposite way into the corridor, and donned a robe. He was a wizard. The Assassin, however, was a bit disorientated by the different layers.

'Bryn, you know this place?' he asked.

'Yes, lad.'

'Tell me how all those floors fit together.'

'Well, this way there's a footbridge to the other side. There, a long passageway goes down with a lot of turns and slopes that lead down. There's no stairs. That passage leads to the lower floor you see there. Any idea on how we dispatch of them?'

'Yes,' he said, turning towards them. 'Karliah will shoot the one guarding the main floor in the back. Meanwhile, we two run to the other side. The noise will get the other two's attention, and they will come up. We simply remain the darkness, and as soon as they run next to us we'll kill them both.'

'Nice one, lad.'

'As soon as you're ready, I'm ready,' said Karliah, nocking an arrow.

'Bryn, come forth a bit. We need to run fast.'

'Aye, lad.'

'Karliah.'

The arrow hissed while traveling through the air, and found its mark in the spine of the Thalmor. The two other soldiers down in the lower corridor heard the thunk and the choked screech of their comrade. They barely saw two shadows running across the footbridge, with short weapons in hand.

'It's the Blades' agent! It has to be!' one cried.

The two run up the entire way to the upper floor. The way was long. A turning slope that led to a landing with a brazier. Then another slope to get to the main room, where they found and killed the beggar, and then finally a short corridor that led them to the footbridge. They guessed their enemies had arrived at that room, by the time, but no one was in it. Purplish lights shimmered in their hands as they conjured their weapons, holding the torches in their left. They ran into the corridor, looking if there was any trace of their foes. They made a guess once again, and imagined they waited for them at the corner. They were wrong.

Halfway along the passage, the torchlight brightened two dark figures. One was clad in an armor made of black leather, thin plates of dark steel and crimson cloth. That one had his face completely covered, aside from two red eyes that shined malevolently. The eyes of a Dunmer. The other one wore a set of leather armor, the one the Altmer had seen donned by the Thieves Guild members. Both held a dagger in their hands, and the two Thalmor soldiers were sprinting. They were too slow to react. Not that they didn't try, but stopping, regaining balance and then slashing takes some time. Their own speed killed them.

The Assassin just stretched his arms and impaled one of the two right in the belly. The High Elf was weakened, and didn't collapse on the ground only because of the blade stuck in his gut. Brynjolf grabbed the dagger with both hands and ran ahead himself, using the impetus of both his strike and the enemy's speed. The slash bounced off the breastplate, but cut the side without too much problems. The angle had been the issue. Nevertheless, the Thalmor stumbled back and fell to the ground. Before he could even recover from the tumble, the Assassin plunged the Blade of Woe in the thin space between the gorget and the helmet.

'You don't know very well how to kill someone, do you?' said the Assassin.

'Killing has never been normal for me. I had only done that twice. That was the third. Don't want to know about your numbers, lad.'

'I think I lost count. Anyhow, always aim for the armpits, the throat and knees if you're slashing. If you're thrusting that's a whole different story. Search the room,' he said, looking at the corridor leading down. 'I'll look at the corpse.'

The fire in the middle of the chamber was still burning, and had been kindled recently. That was good. It meant those Thalmor had arrived there just a moment before and barely had the time to look. Objects were scattered all over the floor. That beggar was clearly living there, and the High Elves had interrupted his usual day of life. Azrael knelt beside the corpse and looked.

Lying back like this… He got thrown backwards. Scrapes on the cheek… They probably held him there and lifted him up. They questioned him. This bruise is what's left of a punch, and this rotting cut what remains of a slash. The slash of a conjured sword. Yeah, just like the Thalmor. Lifted him up, asked him. No answer. Punched him. No answer. Killed him. And they call me tactless.

'Anything?' he asked aloud.

'Nothing important, lad. They came here searching. The purse here has been completely emptied, and the content was fastened in the soldier's belt.'

'They clearly came here looking for someone,' said Karliah. 'They didn't touch anything aside from what could have gave them information. Did not go really well for them.'

'Well, I don't really care what progress they made,' sneered the Assassin. 'As long as they die making them, obviously.'