Falling asleep at the inn was only the start of the nightmare. I had many similar dreams since returning to Skyrim, but this one was unique. As in other dreams, a quiet raspy voice called to me, but before now, it had called for me to follow it. Now it told me something different. "Tonight you will be reborn, and your new sister will be the midwife of your coming. Awake."

Instead of the black empty void that had surrounded me up to that point, there were wooden walls and a bed beneath me. I was not sure that I was truly awake for a moment. I was horrified to see that she was here. Dressed in red and black, that woman was here, the one who had appeared in my dreams before. Her face was covered, but those same cruel dark eyes burned with a sick sense of pleasure.

"Finally awake. Good." Her voice was a haunting mix, alluring and yet vicious. It was truly a sound to match her eyes. She sat atop a shelf that stood in the corner of a one room shack.

"Where am I?" I felt around and found that my weapons were still there. Gently I rested a hand on my Katana's hilt.

"Does it matter? You're warm, safe, and still very much alive, which is more than I can say about Grelod."

My hand closed around the hilt, but I did not draw yet. If there was anything that I had learned from those dreams, it was that this woman was more skilled with a blade than I was. "You know about that?"

"Half of Skyrim Knows; an old crone dying in her own orphanage tends to get around, fast." She gave a small laugh, "Don't get me wrong, it was a good kill, but there's a slight problem." She paused expecting me to ask her about it, but I just gripped my sword hilt tighter. "You see, Grelod was, by all rights, a Brotherhood contract, yet you took it from us." She tilted her head towards the far end of the room. "These three here will help you repay us."

On the ground knelt three people with sacks over their heads; one wore leather armor and looked very strong. The next one over was a woman in a rough yellow dress. The last person was a Khijit in fine orange clothing. "You want me to kill three people for stealing a single contract?"

She shook her head. "No, just one of them. One of them has a contract on their heads, and you're going to kill them."

"I killed Grelod because those children were better off without her; I'm not some murderer for hire."

"Fine then, don't kill anyone, but remember, no one leaves this shack until somebody dies."

I looked her over for a moment; she tried to look relaxed, like she was paying me little caution, but I knew better. I had heard of the Dark Brotherhood before; supposedly they were all magnificent killers. Somehow I doubted that she was an exception, due in no small part to the weapons that I had. I found it hard to believe that she would be so stupid as to leave me my sword if she didn't think that she could easily kill me. Likely, she could strike me down before I could even draw my blade. Thus, killing her was not an option, yet.

I walked over to the captives; at least I could act compliant until I could think of something. The armor clad man was first. "Who are you?" I asked.

"I'm just a soldier; well a sell-sword really." The man sounded frightened for a warrior. Still, a sell-sword could even the odds a bit.

"Would someone pay to have you killed?" I still needed to stall for time, make the assassin think she was safe.

"What? Oh Gods! I don't want to die!" The man sounded too panicked to be of any use.

"Tell me, and this can go easy." I tried to sound calm, but truly, I was a mix of frustration and a bit of worry. Now I needed a new plan to deal with the assassin.

"I, I don't know. I've been selling my sword arm for years now; could be that someone wanted revenge. But you're not going to kill me, right?" His breath quickened as he swung his head from side to side trying to see me through the bag.

I could likely have gotten more use out of the next captive. The woman in the yellow dress was a mother, trying to raise her children alone in Skyrim. By Shor, she had a hot temper and little fear when I suggested that someone paid to have her killed. If I thought she would be skilled in a fight, I might have untied her. "If this bag wasn't on," she declared, "I would spit right in your face."

I was still trying to think of a way to kill the assassin when I began to speak to the Khijit, but he was different from the other two. When I asked him who he was, he said he was an "obtainer of goods, taker of lives, and defiler of daughters." He sounded like a smuggler to me.

"What kinds of goods do you 'obtain'?" I asked. Depending on his answer, he might have been of use to me, after all, he did say he was a taker of lives. Perhaps he was a pirate of sorts.

"Most things contraband, like moon sugar or skooma. Sometimes I transport these goods as well as obtain them, though transporting people is much easier."

My eyebrows raised at that last part. "What kind of people." It was just a hunch, but I needed to know.

"Many types; most commonly, it's the 'heretics' that the Thalmor want." He said it so casually, as if it was completely normal.

Without another word, I drew my blade. In one swift motion, I sliced through the bag and into his face. He writhed around as all people do when in mortal pain; I needed only to slit his throat and it would end, but I didn't. I let him suffer, as I had suffered.

There was no point in plotting against the assassin now; by her rules, I could go free. "Someone has died, now let everyone else go."

She gave a small chuckle and a nod. "So the conniving Khijit, good choice."

"He deserved to die for what he did." I said, wiping he blood off of my blade.

"So do many other people, and I can point you in their direction; all you need to do is listen for a moment." I don't know what madness possessed me, but I did not stop her right there. "Just west of Falkreath is a door, a door marked with a skull. The pass phrase is, 'silence my brother'. A killer like you would do well in the Dark Brotherhood."

I shook my head, pushing away thoughts of hate and anger. "I killed because he needed to die, I am not a contract killer."

"I think I understand." The woman said. "Perhaps the names of others you seek to kill will be assigned to us; at that point, wouldn't you like to be the one to kill them?" I didn't answer because she had a good point; with a war like this going on, odds were that someone would call for the death of Imperials, or better, Thalmor. "You don't have to answer me now, but think on it. Come join me, and I'll help you kill them all. Everyone who ever wronged you, they will know the full depth of your fury, and none shall escape. Come follow me, and I will make you an instrument of justice."

This is what you were meant for. The voice from my dreams echoed through my waking mind and it was bitter sweet music like Rulindil's screams. You are born again, now be who you were born to be.

I didn't need to think about it. The song that the two voices sang was all that I could hear. I wanted to make all those who were responsible for what happened to me, suffer. The promise of it being reality was too much to turn away from. And that is how it came to be that the noble Dragonborn became an assassin for the Dark Brotherhood, yet, my descent into darkness was only just beginning.