A/N: This story is a crossover between The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim and Assassins Creed (The Ezio Story) I wish you could be able to hear the different accents like I have imagined. "Assisstant del ladro" means "assistant of the thief" in Italian; the story is NOT written in Italian though. There will be certain bits in the language though. This starts in Chapter 2.
This story is dedicated to all my haters out there. You make me stronger, and I am thankful for that
Tamriel was not a peaceful place. The Dovahkiin had become Thane of Whiterun, Solitude, Winterhold, Dawnstar, Morthal, Markarth, Falkreath, Windhelm and Riften. He could get away with any possible crime (except murder. No one can get away with that). If you were lucky, you could hear his sniggering in your ear at night. Nothing could be hidden from him. I wouldn't even try. I know him better than anyone else, because no surprise – I am him. Well, actually, I don't know much about what I can do. Surely I am meant to be one of the good guys; But, it is quite fun to annoy the villagers. But with my supreme credentials, they can't do anything to persecute me. If they call the guards on me, I kill the guards. The Jarl just recruits new ones.
It's a good life. If only I could own everything. Unfortunately, I am only permitted to one house per village. It's a shame, it means less debauched bedroom parties. To make it fun for myself and others, I mine some iron ore and use a transmogrification spell and obtain some Gold ore. Give it to the girls and you have yourself a hoe for the night. If I become lazy, I use telekinesis to get something. It is nice and easy, instead of getting off your ass and getting it yourself. However, I don't like to use magic all the time. It gets in the way. Takes too long to cast a goddamn healing spell. If you are trying to shave a dragon, it bites you and you slowly die, and then slowly heal yourself. By the time you have even got about halfway through charging it (not even casting it) and it bites you again and BOOM, you are flying through the air as limp as a… as a… What's the thing I'm looking for? Oh yes, a corpse. Sorry, for the sarcasm. All the times I've been critiqued by the public and authorities for being what they call 'reckless', it has caused me to use sarcasm as a natural defence. After all, you can't kill an innocent without fighting the whole of the stupid kingdom.
You might have heard of certain factions that you could join if you had the skills. I am a stormcloak, but I do not bow down under Ulfric. That man is more of a tyrant than I am (I know, it's hard to believe, isn't it?). My better side told me to join a quaint little group called the companions in Whiterun. I quickly rose in the ranks. After completing a couple of errands, my now wife, Aela, invited me to join a secret organisation called the Circle. In which we can now become a werewolf at any time we want, supposedly. Werewolves are weak, compared to me. After one – particular – quest, our leader was killed by the Silver Hand - who I now have a vendetta against - saw me rise to the top and become the Harbinger of the Whelps and my fellow 'wolves. Before my rise to fame, I went to the far North-East to the College of Winterhold – A mages college where we can all cast spells. Yay! But you can't kill your friends. After obtaining a giant, floating ball, I was contacted by the psijic monks. They were dicks, and predicted I would be the archmage of the college. Surprisingly, they were right! Luckily, they are dead already so I can't kill them for being right. Shame. Questing became boring and predictable after a while, so I decided to find an outlet. In solitude I found the Bards college and learnt how to play everything I could possibly want. I don't get to play that often, though. I don't have the time. I prefer throwing my drums at the enemy. They are instruments after all.
Finally, two factions that are quite fun, and credulous. First off, the maleficent mishaps of the thieves' guild. Located in the sewers of a guard-less town, they didn't do much. Then I came along. I sorted them out. Local authorities in places throughout Tamriel have tolerated the existence of the guild for its role as "crime regulator," as it does not tolerate competition or egregious conduct from its members (not to mention the personal financial benefits for authorities who play nice). Like any trade guild, the Thieves Guild is an organization of professionals, except that in this case the professionals are burglars, robbers, pickpockets, smugglers, and other… enterprising operators. I fit right in! After doing numerous errands that involve my so-called talents, a disaster happened. Our master turns out to be a madman and stolen all of our savings, the bastard. An old friend of his, Karliah, helps me out to track him down. Underneath a mahoosive statue of Irkngthand , we stop him stealing giant crystal eyes, and to retrieve what is ours – The skeleton Key (which is an unbreakable lockpick). Oh yeah, before all this I had become a guardian of Nocturnal – one of my many Daedric Princes. We called ourselves Nightingales. So I kill him, as you do with a petty, crazy thief. I return the key to it's righteous place, go back to the thieves guild. And sooner or later, I became the guildmaster of the guild. A nice honour, for once. I like ordering people around.
The other 'Guild' available is the Dark Brotherhood. You don't want to get mixed up with them. Ever heard of a guy called Cicero? Yeah? He was fucking INSANE! He was the listener – meaning he listened to the Night Mother to receive contracts. Now, however, he can only listen to Sithis. To be fair, he is Dead! He was crazy. Thank Sithis he is gone; he is Sithis's problem now. Anyway, after a contact wanted me to kill the Emperor (I poisoned a fake), I had to board a leaving ship to kill the real Emperor. And, it wasn't that hard – He pretty much accepted his death and let me kill him. Easiest. Assassination. EVER! It was so much fun. I sneaked behind him and slit his throat. Although, he was in the middle of talking and he carried on speaking even though his throat was slit. So I return to find the Empire burning our hideout to the ground.
I ran in to help my sanctuary, and slaughter the remaining penitus occulatus agents. I find the corpses of my… friends burning amongst the debris. As I barge into the blackening living quarters, my friend Nazir was being cornered by two of the bastards. I felt my voice rising through the bowels of my gut, making its way through my throat. It rips though – "Wuld Nah Kest!" . I appear in front of Nazir, just in time to block a last-minute would-be fatal blow. I pushed him out of the way and used my Daedric Warhammer to smash the dazed agent's skull. The other stared at his felled comrade, and started to back away. I sensed this and my body started to tremble. I felt my fingers elongating into sharpened weapons, and fur was singeing away at the armour. I wear metamorphic armour, so in my beastial form, I could still wear my trusty Dragonscale Armour. Another roar ripped the flames, but this wasn't the Thu'um, this was a deafening growl. It paralysed my foe, and I pounced on his stomach, bowling him over. I proceeded to rip his throat out and slather the remains on my blood spurted in short gushes, so I jumped off. I returned back to my original form and went over to Nazir who stared at me. But he wasn't scared. Babette is a vampire after all. Nothing fazed him, which was helpful. He told me that we should find any more surviving members. We found Babette shortly afterwards. We went to the entrance and turned back on ourselves into our bosses headquarters. The sight we saw upon entrance was disturbing. A red pentagram was drawn on the floor, and Astrid had skinned herself and was lyingin the middle of the shape. She proceeded to tell us that she didn't like me and set me up to be killed the first time with failed assassination attempt. I wanted to slap her at this point. She then said that the Dark Sacrament was being performed by her to pray to Sithis that I would overcome the difficulties. She then apoloized and told me to kill her – so I did. No big deal. Anyway, after more explosions, we found the Night Mother, and were blasted outside. We travelled all the way to Dawnstar to our new sanctuary, just outside of the city bounds, near a Khajiit Trading caravan. So we had set up our new hideout, and to greet us was a chaperone, of sorts. Carved into the wall beside the large Sithis window, were the words "Niente E Vero; Tutto E Permesso" – I didn't recognise the language, nor did I the robes the man was wearing. The tip of his hood obscured his face, but I saw a distinctive smirk covering it. "Welcome, My Brothers! It's good to meet my new family." I also did not recognise that accent, so rich. He introduced himself as Ezio Auditore De Firenze.