Darkness covered The Imperial City, and all law abiding citizens slept their beds. A woman walks through the city shrouded in a black cloak. No one stops to question her, as no one seems to take notice she exists. She walks delicately and precisely to her destination, the Imperial Prison.
The woman places her hand on the door emitting a light, the tumblers churn and unlock. She steps out of the shadows to the brightly lit corridor. A guard rose to protest at the sight of her, another flash of light and went silent. He stared at her desperately with his imperial brown eyes, attempting to scream. She stepped toward him and with a flick of her wrist he lay on the ground, blood pouring from his throat.
She continued on her way, as she got farther down the corridor, other guards had begun to notice their dead comrade. However, although she heard the commotion begin to erupt behind her, she continued her swift walk to her destination. She lifted her hand, letting out another light. Behind her a Spider Daedra was summoned onto this plain. The Daedra ran to where the guards stood trying to decide what to do. The spider would be a good distraction for the woman's remainder of the time here.
The woman did not stop until she stood in front of a jail cell. The prison was particularly packed this evening. The weather held faire, meaning the drunks and beggars roamed more freely. Normally there may be one person in a cell, tonight there were at least two, with a maximum of five.
The woman could feel the fear and panic rising in them. They shouted down at one another, some trying to calm the calamity that ensued, others adding fuel to it. The guards screamed in pain from a distance, one could practically hear the blood splattering on the walls.
The particular jail cell she stopped in front of held two men. Both were Imperials, however one looked much older than the other.
The older of the Imperials had black hair with an ashen beard covering his face. Out of all the prisoners, this old man was the most afraid. He practically shook as the woman looked down at him. The other imperial, a teenager, sat in the corner looking down without interest, longer black hair shading his face. Both of their bodies were thin, they may have been here for a while.
The woman pulled down her hood to reveal a high elf. Her features were less Elven than most, with a short face and eyes that could belong to an Imperial. She stood tall, like most Altmer, but not as tall as some. Her hair was black and every inch of her face was covered with make up, mostly dark.
Suddenly a look of annoyance crossed her face. Altmer were very good at looking annoyed, some may say their faces are set in a permanent sneer. "You enchanted the lock," she annunciated every word carefully. She didn't sound angry, but amused or maybe curious. Her voice was sweet and womanly.
The old man shouted shakily: "You'll never get in here! You won't get me!" He sounded insane.
The elf looked over her shoulder when she heard a particularly loud crash coming from where the guards were brawling with her Daedra. She appeared to think for a second, the woman was careful to keep her face mostly neutral, yet sultry.
Finally she spoke: "I don't have to."
The elf rifled through her cloak and pulled out a large coin purse.
"You in the corner," she spoke a little louder than before. "If you kill him, not only will I get you out of here, I'll also give you 300 septims."
The little color the old man had in his face drained. In less than five seconds the old man was being beat to death. The boy had sprung from the corner, grabbing the nearest stone to him on his way and struck the man in the head. Once he had fallen the boy climbed on top of him and continued to bludgeon him. The man's screams were drowned out by the rest of the commotion. A smile played on the Elven woman's face. When the screams stopped, the boy still sat atop the man, panting for breath. The man now lay in a large puddle of blood, the cells were splattered with it as well.
The woman cracked her knuckles then cupped her hands around the cell's lock. It required slightly more focus than the lock she had cracked earlier. She could have gotten into the cell herself, but she really just wanted to add insult to injury to the old man. As if a cell would stop any member of the Dark Brotherhood.
The cell swung open, the boy still faced the wall breathing heavily.
"Impressive, dear," the elf cooed. He remained silent but got up and turned around. His brown eyes, framed with splattered blood, looked her up and down. He understood the necessity of observation. "Your name?"
"Lucian Lachance," he replied.
"The guards will be here soon boy, follow me closely and quickly," she annunciated carefully.
"Who are you?"
"Ayela, Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood. Consider yourself honored," she smirked, her words coming out in a rhythm.