A/N: I wrote this a few months back for Brit Lit. We were reading The Canterbury Tales and were supposed to describe four characters in 15 lines of verse. This is written with my old Skyrim character, a blue eyed orc that I can't remember her name.
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The Fool At Dawnstar
Oh so swift and fast a horse galloped by
Upon mare's back rode an orc woman, aye.
Quiver and bow fashioned to her back
On her side a sheathed dagger ready to attack.
Her blue eyes were tired and irritation filled
Annoyance stemming from the man she'd recently killed.
Over in Whiterun, the center most hold
Gaius Maro, she killed in night's dark cold.
Such a hassle he was, survived the poisoned dart
Though glad she be that he lies dead in the mart.
With her target dead and the letter planted
Astrid should be happy and the orc have her payment granted.
"A little bit farther, and I'll be back home." The orcish woman thought she continued to ride southward, "Astrid better give me a lot of gold for this kill, I managed to kill him in one of the cities just like they wanted."
She let out a sigh, as a few more things buzzed in her head. A sweetroll to start, and lots of wine, that sounded like the perfect thing to have before crashing onto one of the sanctuary's beds. If anyone else had a problem with her having a nap, they'd just have to live with it; everyone in Tamriel knew that an angry, cranky orc was not to be reckoned with, even the Fool knew that.
The sun had abandoned the sky for long enough that the ribbons of color danced in the sky, that night they took on beautifully vivid blues and green. The nights in this frozen land illuminated everything in such a glow that only could be witnessed in Skyrim. The orc spent many a night just staring up at the beautifully colors, but not this night. No, she was far too tired to enjoy nature's beauty that night.
Her eyes were getting heavier, but she was so close to her hidden home that setting up camp for the night would be silly. Her endurance was rewarded by finding herself close to the mysterious door under the rode and out of sight; it was the entrance to her home away from home. A small smile graced the orc's lips, her upward fangs and under-bite giving her a unique air of charm.
She dismounted her mare, leaving it by the pool of oddly dark water. With a yawn and stretch of her tired muscles the orc woman headed inside The Dark Brotherhood's Sanctuary. Down the old stone steps and into the first room of the sanctuary, the orc was greeted by the dark elf, Gabriella. The dark elf gave the orc her payment for the kill, but much to her displeasure also instructed the orc woman to see Astrid right away.
The orc had no choice; she was still the newest recruit and couldn't disobey any of the orders. With a grumpy "hmph" the orc descended down into the main room to find that almost all of her "Brothers and Sisters" were there, gathered around the wounded lizard man sitting on the floor.
When the orc ambled up close to the group
The fair nord scowled at blue eyes starting to droop.
Fury bubbled up in the nord as she relayed details
The fool they welcomed in snapped and pierced the lizard's scales
The lizard had been in the way of the fool,
He screamed that the nord woman was not to rule.
Her husband gone, chased after the Fool of Hearts.
Cicero, the fool, seemed to go off the charts.
The blonde nord woman remained strong,
She devised a plan to balance the wrong,
The orc was to chase after Cicero,
Once found, death's cold grip she must bestow.
"Now," the chilled voice of the nordic woman rung in the orc's ears "Look for any clues of where that fool might have run off to. I saw that he keeps journals in his room, start there."
The orc woman nodded, and made her way to Cicero's room. Slow scraping sounds of leather boots over stone and gravel echoed through the sanctuary as the orc trekked into Cicero's room, just past the Night Mother's chamber. She was extremely tired, but she knew that the nord woman wouldn't let her sleep, no not a wink until Cicero lies dead.
The doors to the room were left wide open, things scattered about, however the madman that had inhabited the room left the room in that condition when he still lived there. Just as Astrid said, Cicero left journals in plain sight, two on the dresser, two in the table, and one last on on the stand by his bed. She picked up the fifth volume, it was bound by a single button, a button the dreary orc just ripped off. Tired haze scrambled the letters for a moment before she could skim through the text. It seemed that the Fool of Hearts found a second Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary in the province, it was to the north of Dawnstar.
Once the she told Astrid, the order was given and the orc had to obey. Travel to Dawnstar, find the nord werewolf wed to Astrid, and kill the Night Mother's Keeper, the fool Cicero. The orc couldn't trek that distance, not without sleep, instead she traveled east to the nearest Hold. One hundred gold coins left her pocket, before she climbed in the back of a carriage journeying to the northernmost of the holds, at least this way the poor orc could get some rest and still be heading to Dawnstar.
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Groaning and shifting as the carriage pulled to a stop, the green skinned woman tried her hardest to stay in the realm of dreams; to her dismay, the sun and the driver had other plans. The driver told the woman to wake up upon their arrival in the chilly, mining town. She grunted in return and hopped out, stretching and yawning. Not even two steps on the ground, her stomach let out a low growl; forcing her to eat some of her food she carried around.
Now revived with food and rest, the stealthy orc began searching for the second sanctuary. There was no possible way that the Brotherhood would build a sanctuary within the town's boundaries, so she first looked around the cliff by the icy seas. Sure enough, there away from the town, was the black door as well as Arnbjorn.
The strong rugged man sat there on the ice,
Snow painted red from his flesh being sliced.
He told the orc how the fool injured him,
And fled into the second sanctuary of Skyrim.
She examined the wound, he'd be alright,
Werewolves heal fast, he'd recover from the fight.
"The fool," he said, "I got him, cut an artery.
Follow the blood and you'll find him in agony"
The orc gave a nod then handed him a potion,
Suggesting he return to the woman he pledged devotion.
The grey haired nord agreed and rose to his feet,
She puzzled how he could stand being shoeless on the icy sheet.
Arnbjorn, despite his injury, dashed away to the south. The orc, now alone to face the mad jester, stepped closer to the mysterious door. It was a twin to the door guarding her home, decorated with a skulls, a skeleton, and the Brotherhood's red handprint emblem. Just as she read in Cicero's journal it asked a different question than the southern one.
In an eerie, raspy voice it asked, "What is life's greatest illusion?"
"Innocence, my brother," Answered the strong orc woman.
"Welcome home," it greeted before unlocking itself.
Cold stuffy air greeted her skin giving her goosebumps as she descended down the cracked yet sturdy steps. The short flight of stairs lead to a small room with a table and shelves left bare. Before the orc had a toe out of that room and into the hallway across the stairs a voice echoed through the sanctuary, its origins sounded like it could have emanated from anywhere in the ruins.
"Listener! Is that you?" the somewhat high-pitched voice laced with madness and pain called out to the orc. She remained silent but that didn't stop Cicero from speaking further, "Oh, I knew you'd come! Astrid knew her stupid lapdog couldn't kill sly Cicero."
The orc sighed, even when bleeding out somewhere in the sanctuary the fool still spoke in his happy and cheerful albeit demented tone. She just shook it off and snuck around the underground structure, keeping an eye out for any and all traps the fool might have set. The fool never let the old hallways remain in silence too long, he would make jokes as well as complement the woman in her ability to pass the ghostly guardians and traps. Cicero also had admitted to making an attempt on Astrid's life and regretted injuring the lizard man, saying that the only reason he had attacked her was due to Astrid speaking poorly of the Night Mother. The fool's loyalty knew no bounds when it came to the Dark Brotherhood's unholy matron, a corpse that was at least over three centuries old. Said corpse was the reason the Dark Brotherhood even existed in the first place.
The orcish assassin came to the last room,
An uneasy feeling began to loom.
She opened the door hiding away the mad jester,
Curled on the ground clutching a wound beginning to fester.
His breathing was shallow and voice was strained,
Crimson blood flowed from his side leaving him drained.
He smiled and laughed as she walked through the door.
"You caught me! I surrender!" he grinned, for him a chore.
As the orc stood listening to what he had to say,
The fool said that Astrid's word the orc should not obey.
"Lie to the woman," he begged, "Let poor Cicero live!"
The orc then had to ponder, could she forgive?
One silent step followed another as the fool lying on the ground watched the fellow assassin move closer to his spot by the fireplace. He was tense, and ready to spring to his feet, revealing his final trick if necessary. Cicero, however would not be the first of the two to attack, not after waiting so long for the Night Mother to choose a new Listener.
The woman remained silent as ever as she loomed over the red haired man, her blue eyes seemed icy in that moment. She knelt down next to him, handing him a health potion. The fool looked bewildered by her action and was hesitant of accepting her gift.
"Does this mean that the Listener will spare poor Cicero?" he asked with his normal mannerism of speaking in the third person. She nodded, which raised another question for the man, "Why?"
"You may be mad, but you are loyal to the Night Mother," she answered in strong yet gentle tone, "Without her where would the Brotherhood be? What kind of Listener would I be if I killed a Brother?"
His lips curled into a smile stretching from ear to ear, "Sweet Listener is too kind to poor Cicero, nicest orc I've ever known."
She let out a small laugh, "Probably the only orc that will tolerate you and your crazy antics. If you haven't noticed, I don't exactly fit in with the other orcs in Skyrim."
"Hahaha! You're right, Listener is very unlike other orcs. You're stealthy and swift, much better assassin than any other orc," Cicero chuckled out, pain still faintly laced in his voice.
She nodded and pulled out a few more potions as well as some of her food, setting it all by the jester cloaked in the Brotherhood's two favorite colors, red the shade of blood and black dark as the Void. She informed the fool that he should rest in the sanctuary only for a short time, in fear that the others may check that he is truly dead.
After that she left, leaving the fool to rest by the fire of the room. She'd report back to Astrid and lie about his death. The orc would never say it to her face, but she was starting to dislike that bossy nord as well as distrust her. She just shook her head and grumbled, the orc needed to get back to the Falkreath Sanctuary and continue with the Brother's contact to assassinate the Emperor. How odd that the orc that helped subdue the Stormcloak rebels in Skyrim had a hand in dealing death to the man they wanted their independence from, oh well. It was back to Falkreath for her, well maybe after a sweetroll and lots of wine or maybe some mead.