Night had fallen over Tamriel, blanketing the Colovian Highlands with its velvet darkness, while countless cycads filled the night air with their music. On a half forgotten dirt road, far away from the next bigger city, sat a shabby little inn, mostly frequented by bandits, marodeurs and murderers. The perfect place for those who need to hide from the law.

In a locked room in the back of the inn lay such an outlaw in an unquiet slumber. The young elf had already the blood of the innocent on his hands. Maybe it was his conscience, that made him twist and turn on his bed. Maybe it were the memories of his little Ashland tribe, he wished to forget. The dark shape in the shadows moved slightly to get a better look at the mer. For a Dunmer he had quite dark skin, almost like the night itself. It helped, merging with the shadows. Though is white hair stood in stark contrast to his skin. A smirk appeared on the shapes lips. That could be dealt with.

Silently the shadow in the dark moved closer to the bed, the head slightly cocked to the side. When Ghost had left Morrowind, he had a different name then, a different heart and most of all no idea how life in Cyrodiil would be like. It didn't take him long to discover, that it was best to stick to the shadows, especially if you earned your living as an occasional thief. And if need be, he would himself cover with rags and pose as a blind beggar. Ghost had most unusual eyes for a Dunmer. So light in colour, that they seemed almost milky white, but he was by no means blind.

As time went on, Ghost learned that he would not be able to fend of himself with what little he got out of begging and thieving. And like his hunger grew, his despair grew the same, until the need was too great to bear. So he had slain a fat Bosmer for a couple of coins and a loaf of bread.

The deed had satisfied his need, his hunger, for a while, yet he found himself hunted. Though the mer had been sure, that he wasn't seen as he took the Bosmer's life, he felt eyes watching him. Feared that the Imperial guard was already chasing after him. He had no idea, who was after him. Ghost ended up on the run, driven by his own paranoia, he avoided the main roads, until ending up in this shabby tavern.

He thought he could rest easy there. Thought he was under his kind, every face belonged to an outlaw each. And yet his sleep was uneasy and finally Ghost was awoken by his uneasy sleep, by a cold chill, that had entered the small bedroom, despite it being a warm night. Unwilling to open his eyes just yet he pulled the covers up and around his shoulders. But the chill would not go away, even more so as the hairs on the back of his neck rose with the uneasy feeling of being watched. Still tired, he opened his eyes, only to see a blurry dark shadow standing motionless at the foot of his bed. His eyes snapped open and he sat up with a gasp. A man, most likely an Imperial, was watching him out of the shadows of a black hooded robe, a sinister smile on his face. For a moment the Imperial regarded the young elf with a cold stare before he opened his mouth to speak.

"So you're finally awake. Good."

His voice was deep and smooth.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer."

Young Ghost frowned at this comment. He had never been a morning person and being awoken from sleep in the middle of the night did nothing to lift his mood, but how did that man know about his past crimes? Yet he pushed that thought aside, as he swung his feet out of the bed and straightened his shoulders.

"And I would still be asleep if you hadn't been so rude to wake me up!"

He retorted to the tall Imperial, letting his foul mood show through. The man's face darkened as the thick eyebrows knitted together and with a voice that was still smooth yet cold and dangerous he asked the elf.

"Bit lippy, aren't we?"

Ghost rolled his eyes, getting more annoyed by his nightly visitor.

"Who are you?"

It was less a question, more a demand. The man's eyes narrowed slightly, dangerously.

"I am Lucien Lachance, a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood."

The man introduced himself, a scowl still on his face. Ghost felt his heart sped up a little. He had heard of the Dark Brotherhood, through hushed whispers. Nothing concrete yet enough to know that it was a guild of murderers, not unlike his native Morag Tong. So someone wanted him dead? His family most likely? He sighed, having hoped to have heard the last of his tribe.

He tried to keep his voice calm and even as he asked:

"Dark Brotherhood? So you are here to kill me? Then try and make it quick, but spare me the small talk."

Ghost had hoped that his snarky remark would prompt the assassin to attack and end his miserable life. The young elf had no weapon on his body, as he was used to sleep only in his underwear. His dagger and bow lay out of reach proficiently blocked by the Imperial's body.

Lachance heaved an annoyed sigh. His patience was running dangerously thin with that young man.

"For talking like this I could have your tongue."

He hissed through clenched teeth.

"Unfortunately, I'm here to make a proposition, Filnar."

At this the elf's head snapped up sharply, the gaze of his unnerving white eyes narrowing on the assassin.

"How do you know my name?"

"The Dark Brotherhood knows much."

Lucien replied cryptically, regarding the elf who called himself Ghost with a long stare out of dark cold eyes. Ghost pressed his lips into a thing line, guiding his own gaze to the floor, he choose to remain silent.

"You prefer silence then?"

Lucien asked sarcastically.

"Fine. Your work, your deathcraft pleases the Night Mother."

A short pause, to see if he had the elf's rapt attention. He had.

"That is why I'm here, offering an opportunity to join our rather... unique family."

"Family..."

Ghost echoed. The one thing in life he never really had. Not since his brother had left Vvardenfell, had left him behind. A smirk appeared on Lucien's face.

"So I have your attention. Good. Now listen well."

Another short pause.

"Go to Bravil, find a woman named Carmila. Kill her and your initiation will be complete."

Lucien reached into the folds of his black robe and very carefully revealed a dagger. He examined this blade a moment, running his cloved fingers almost lovingly over the cold blade, before offering it to Ghost.

"Take this dagger as a token. It's a virgin blade and thirsts for blood."

With a shaking hand, Ghost accepted the blade. It was an ebony dagger and quite beautifully made. This surely would bring him a couple of Septim's and fill his stomach for a while. With a smirk he raised his eyes to the assassin who was staring at him with unwavering eyes and emotionless face.

"And if I refuse?"

He asked, still smiling, still thinking about what he could do with such a fine blade. The cold dark eyes of the assassin seemed to stare into his very soul for a long moment, before he answered

"Then our ways will part here."

Lachance paused, before adding with a voice that promised pain and suffering.

"For now. But I do hope we'll meet again. One way or another."

Ghost's smile froze on his face. He was no fool and he knew a threat when he was presented with one. His eyes shifted to the blade while his hand grew sweaty, while the assassin turned towards the door. He didn't made a sound as he moved, but before the tall man was fully engulfed by shadows he almost purred.

"A word of advice Dunmer. Drop that attitude when you speak to a superior in your new family. Not everyone is as patient as am I."

With that the assassin was gone, taking the unnatural chill with him while Ghost stayed behind, shaken and confused.

Family. He had always wished for that.