Chapter Four: A Pirate's Death
Author's Note: And thus begins the missionline for the Dark Brotherhood, of course, there have been some creative licenses taken, for the sake of making the story flow a little better.
"This contract may prove to be slightly difficult for you," that was the cultured voice of Vincente, watching her through rose colored eyes from where he sat at the table in his quarters, "It requires you to take the life of Captain Gaston Tussaud, a pirate who seldom leaves the safety of his ship, the Marie Elena. I imagine he must feel safe there, surrounded by his crew. But he has angered someone, angered or annoyed them to the point that they wish him dead, and the deed must be done on the ship. A difficult task, but not impossible. To claim your bonus you must infiltrate the ship, slay Tussaud, and escape again without notice. You may want to consult with your brothers and sisters, they may have helpful advice."
"It does sound a difficult task Vincente…but it should not pose too much of a problem for me," Lilith left before she could see the little smile tugging at the corners of the vampire's mouth. She followed his advice, asking the others what they thought of the contract. Of course, of her newfound family, the only two other than Vincente that was in the sanctuary were Taleandril and Teinaava.
The auburn haired bosmer was in the training room, and when Lilith entered, her mane of white gold curls braided so it could be tucked beneath the hood, the wood elf laid her bow aside, "Good evening Sister. Rumor says that you've a contract today."
"Well…yes, that's what I've come to ask you about. Vincente said that it might be helpful to ask you all about my contracts before I start out, that you might have helpful advice."
"Yes," Teleandril nodded, "Sound advice that. So, what exactly is your task?" Lilith related what Vincente had told her about her mark, while the wood elf listened intently, "Ah, pirates. Close combat might be best to avoid if possible, since the rogues are particularly fond of sabers, but they are not, if I recall, very fond of armor. They aren't very fond of bows or magic either. I can see the question in your eyes Sister, and no, I haven't seen this particular ship. You might ask Teinaava though, he spends time in the waterfronts."
"I will, thank you," the girl nodded and slipped out to the common room, where she knew she would find the Argonian tucked into a chair at that little corner table, absorbed in a book, "Teinaava?"
To her great relief, he laid the book aside and offered up a slight smile, "Yes Little Sister?"
"My contract takes me to the Marie Elena, but I've never heard of that ship, so I know nothing about it, nor do I know how to get aboard it without notice. Teleandril said you spend a lot of time in the waterfronts, and said you might have seen the ship."
"The Marie Elena…ah yes, I remember. I took special note of her because of the odd little balcony on the ship. If I had to take a guess, I would say that it probably leads directly into the captain's quarters. As to getting aboard, I know that since she is a pirate's vessel, they off load and load huge cargo crates frequently. But the balcony may be your chief chance."
"Thank you Teinaave. Well, I'll see you when I get back then," there was no denying that she was nervous. Before, those men had been a matter of revenge, a clear cut issue of wrong and right, but now she found herself sliding into gray. Certainly this pirate had caused others injury, caused others misery and pain…but he hadn't done anything to her personally. Still, this was her place now, this was her family, the least she could do was to do them honor. She wasn't above any of them.
It was mid afternoon when she reached the waterfront district of the Imperial City, mid afternoon on a glorious late spring morning with the sun shining unimpeded by any clouds. Lilith decided that the weather was not in her favor that day. Ambling down the street along the water, she made a show of gawking at the few ships in the harbor. She spotted the Marie Elena easily enough, it was the only ship that was guarded by its crew. Tussaud must be a very paranoid captain indeed. It was, she thought, a rather lovely ship…for a pirate vessel.
A dunmer woman in white and blue approached her as soon as she neared, first affecting a cheerful and friendly tone, "Beautiful isn't she? A damn fine ship, with a damn fine crew. I should know, I'm the first mate. Malvulis is my name," and then the woman's tone ceased to be friendly and became a barely veiled threat, "So believe me when I tell you that we don't like people snooping around in our affairs. You go near that ship and my men will run you through."
Lilith blinked that pale amber eyes and put on her best naïve farmgirl expression, "Go near it? Oh no, no. I was just admiring it, that's all, but I'll leave now," she made a show of backing away, and once the woman had lost interest in her she began walking down the line of crates. She came across an open crate, big enough she could fit comfortably inside of it. But using that method to board would mean having to slip past any crew members still inside the belly of the vessel. That was, she decided, too much of a risk. And then she noticed the little balcony, that must have been what Teinaava had been referring to. He was right, it should lead directly into the captain's quarters…but that was going to be a long jump.
The girl straightened, murmuring the word that invoked the chameleon spell that would envelop her, make it more difficult for people to see her. Then she climbed up on the low stone wall and stared hard at the balcony. It would be a long jump, but she should, she thought, be able to clear it. With a murmured prayer she leapt, and stifled a startled gasp as she fell short. Hands flailed out, catching on the railing of the balcony. The girl dangled for a moment, collecting her wits, and then hauled herself up and over the rail, where she pressed against the side of the ship, murmuring her thanks. The splash would have alerted the crew to mischief and made her job that much more difficult. Now then, for the door.
The advanced difficulty of the lock on the door was just another sign of the man's paranoia, justified paranoia it seemed. It was difficult, but not impossible to pick…she would need to restock her supply of picks when she returned to the sanctuary. She eased the door open, slowly, ready to leap into action at the slightest noise from the hinges, but they were silent. She found herself in the lush private quarters of the captain, facing a table with a rich spread, and in the chair right before her, the captain himself.
Tussuad was a man with reddish brown hair, balding heavily on the top. He dressed richly, and ate richly…eating other people's lives. She felt the her anxiety drain away, felt the cool flame of calmness seep through her, she was steel, ice cold. She almost clucked her tongue at how unobservant he was, she had been able to enter directly behind him without him realizing at all. Not a good thing for a man with so many enemies he had to stay hidden on his ship. Slipping up behind his chair in a crouch, she could almost revel in the power she held in her hands, the power to take life, or to spare it. One hand flashed out, clamping over his mouth and jerking his head back at the same time, and even as she did this, the other hand flashed out, sunlight dancing off steel as it tore through tender flesh. Blood splashed out, bright and vibrant against the green velvet doublet he wore.
She might have made a thorough search of the quarters for valuables, but someone started pounding on the door, the door that led into the captain's quarters from the belly of her ship, voices chorusing questions of concern for the now deceased captain. She slipped out through the same door she'd entered, leaving them to find the remains of their beloved captain. Rather than try to make the jump again, she swung over the railing, dangled by her hands, then let herself drop into the water below. It was colder than she expected, but she took a deep breath and submerged, swimming beneath the water around the bend and out of sight of the ship. Once clear, the girl waded to the shore and changed into the second set of clothing she'd stashed there for just such an occasion.
It was night, a few days later when she reached Cheydinhal again, and made her way to the sanctuary, no, to home. She had expected to feel any number of things, remorse, to hate herself for what she'd become…but she was beginning to feel the first stirring of, of what, pride? Pride at being a murderer, well, why not?
