A/N: Welcome my dearest! Take a virtual seat and enjoy yourself x3

. . .

"Wake up!"

"…"

Whisper opened his eyes one by one with immense pain. He though he was dead…turned out it was something far worse; chained he was in an old, humid room that have listened to years and years of silence. Cobwebs hanged loosely across the ceiling as if he was in frostbite's lair with those accursed signs of the dark brotherhood… must be their sanctuary. That same woman who stabbed him in solitude gave him a vicious look "Where's your tongue now, Whisper?"

"I…I am not afraid of you."

"Oh, is that so? You weren't all manned up when I gave you this lovely stab." She gave him a tremendous blow in his bleeding spot. The Breton spat out drizzles of blood right at her scowled face. She was about to slit his throat when a figure hidden in the dark interfered "Enough Lessia! You don't want to end like dear old Astrid no?"

"O-of course, master Cicero.." the woman left the room almost out of fear. Never had whisper seen a man with such a wicked madness sewn into his absurd gaze "bah! New initiates are sometimes… pesky and unpredictable! Wouldn't you agree?"

"listen i-"

"SILENCE! Poor Cicero waited soooo long to hear mother sweet voice… I did and I felt beautiful like some endless harmony dah dee dah da la la la!" the jester literally danced around his chained victim singing:

"Mother, oh sweet mother!

Alas you heard your keeper's plea

Astrid and her dogs were like other!

Failed to listen, failed to see

Go…go into a deep sleep I said

Ah so much blood I shed

All for your grace and glee

With all of the blasphemers dead

I started our family anew

Black sacrament called

The blue bear wanted him slew… BUT THEN HE ESCAPED!" He broke the verse unexpectedly stabbing him several times in his left thigh. The man howled of pain and suffering but the jester never stopped as if he was fueled by the Breton's agony "…or rather kidnapped by petty bandits. You had a choice you know? To fly like a humming bird out of sweet Skyrim but NOOOOO! You bad- mouthed my dearest mother…no one insult my mother!"

Whisper's suffering morphed into rage when another assassin brought his dearest friend, lady echo, shackled and unclothed "My tongue enjoyed every juicy inch of her…"

"You fucking ill-breeding malcontent! Let her go!"

"It is up to you my dear blasphemer…" Surprisingly, the ill-clothed assassin unchained him and gave him a rusty shiv which was used instantly against him but the keeper quickly parried and counter stabbed Whisper in the shoulder " you have but two tiny choices: either you will slit your friend's throat then yours …or I will gut you both like a horker!"

"It's….it's alright…Whis..per" the elven mage barely possess some strength to speak. Thousands of possibilities ran through Whisper's mind but all lead to the same damn outcome. He neared her shriveling body "i…"

"No need … for sympathy. We chose our dark paths knowing the risks… Pray be quick…"

"May Mephala forgive me…"

*slash*

. . .

His very own first kill left a dark gap inside his soul. Time simply froze when he slit Echo's throat, tickle and drips of drop almost floated slowly in the air. Then, the unexpected happened…

Excellent word child! Oh the guilt and pain….so relieving beyond measure. Gain my eternal bliss my champion!

The rusty old shiv blackened out of the sudden transmuting to the well-known black ebony. His fallen friend's blood tangled with the very twisted particles of the ebony. Time shifted back to normal, the wicked grin of the listener faded after the darkened blade's wrathful stab in the chest yet the jester was far away from death's sight "raaagghh! I .WILL. SLAUGHTER .YOU!"

Before anyone could react, an explosion rocked the place. Whisper wasn't aware whether the rubble above his head would sent him to the land of dream or the one of the dead…

. . .

Will Echo's sacrifice go in vain?

Will the stormcloaks wake from their dreams?

Will the skooma be legal someday?

Find out in the next ranting!

Aside from being plot-friendly in twisted way, Echo's death was kind of a wakeup call to all the authors out there who clearly forget Newton's third law (Every action has an equal and opposite reaction if you don't know).

Your characters MUST make a mistake and this mistake WILL have a consequence sooner or later and yes I am staring at you fancy pansy romance authors and fangirls in general DON'T make that mistake. In fact, I do enjoy fics where Oc had died/suffered from their mistakes (main character mind you.) and then a secondary/ other main character learn from the previous mistake.

Do review and as always thanks for wat- err I am mean reading.

Vsauce FTW