Red Jack and Nightingale
Chapter Four

The shadows were his greatest ally in his profession, but there were a great many magical defenses that those he stole from could erect. Jack had just happened to not see this particular enchantment.

Having only just jimmied the lock open he set off a strong summon spell that bound an unhappy Dremora to this plane. Jack cursed himself for having not noticed the enchantment on the lock, but he sized up the opponent anyway.

Come to think of it, Dremora were never happy as he darted across the floor. The Dremoran warrior clenched his mace tightly and swung down, cracking a few floor boards while he tried to strike his master's intruder. No bumbling Dremora could really match the speed that Jack could strike with as a steel dagger lashed out across the summon's face. A deep, bloody gash opened, and almost immediately, the warrior stumbled before locking up and falling to the floor. Blood poured from the wound as he lay on the floor grunting from obvious pain.

Within a few seconds, the demon warrior and all traces that he'd been there were gone. Poisons and enchantments were a nifty tool. Satisfied that no more hidden enchantments guarded the box, Red Jack approached it and drew from within the box a blood red stone the size of your average river pebble.

"The Philosopher's Stone isn't some trinket, Thief,"

He wasn't surprised that the struggle had woken the homeowner, a Magician named Varon Auvidicus. Jack knew the stone wasn't some small thing he could pawn off; it was why he had come. This single stone could boost the strength of any potion or poison brewed ten fold. It was a boon to any Alchemist.

"I'm quite aware Magician, I'm here to borrow it, maybe even keep it," Jack replied.

From behind his mask, the thief smiled. Varon wasn't pleased that the thief thought he was going to walk out of here in one piece, especially after having caused damage to his home via his summon spell.

Lightning fired off in a blue surge from his fingertips at the thief. Almost on instinct, Jack glowed with the power of the lightning spell as his body absorbed the magic. A quick absorption spell was good to know too.

He reacted with a spell of his own, to prevent the Magician from forcing Jack's hand. A green flash nailed him squarely in the chest, blasting him from the room into the hall. There was a slight grunt as Auvidicus smacked into the wall, and slid down, unable to move.

Varon cursed himself mentally as he hadn't defended himself in time, now he was paralyzed and at the mercy of a total stranger. He'd be surprised if he survived to tell the tale. The thief's eyes had never left his body, but then Varon noted his mask.

It was solid white, with a peculiar crimson spiral. The room, though lit by candles cast shadows; Varon couldn't see the eyes behind the mask. He also wore bearskins over what appeared to be chain mail. A steel dagger was fastened tightly to his hip.

Bending down, Jack began to whisper in his ear.

"On this night Varon Auvidicus I, Red Jack leave you with your life, should the case be that I find the need to return your rock I would expect the same curtsey," Jack commented waving the red gem in his face.

With a swift spin, he darted out the open window in the room that the stone had once occupied. If Varon could have moved, he would've stopped him. Angrily, lying on the floor, Varon vowed that the life of Red Jack would be ended justly.

-----

Valen had arrived in the Imperial City just as the sun had begun its ascent through the sky. He had made sure to feed, so he wouldn't have to worry about the sun causing him any problems today. The bandits that had taken up residence outside of the Vilvern ruins had made quite a snack.

He had waited in near the entrance to the market till about noon, he didn't relish the fact that he could be recognized at the University. Maybe no one would ask his name.

How he would handle the situation mulled over and over again in his head until he had gone a ways in the market. The hairs on the back of his neck had stood on ends; something unnatural was nearby but for the life of him he couldn't figure out what it had been.

From beneath his hood, he had scanned the people that hustled about in the market until the feeling subsided. Valen had no idea what had caused it, it had been very sudden and shocking, like having a vat of ice water dumped on you. He knew that he was being watched the whole time as well. Could who ever had caused that reaction had something similar happen to them?

He'd have to ask Vicente when he returned to the sanctuary. Valen picked up the pace, his desire to get out the market outweighed his need to purchase a few supplies.

Quickly, he found himself slowing to a steady pace as he started to approach the arena. On the other side of those great wooden doors would be the Arboretum, which would then lead to the University. The air, though faint to a human nose smelled of blood. Valen felt the saliva grow thicker in his mouth, he had fed, but when you smell something that delights you, do you not covet it?

-----

The grand doors that lead to the University grounds were no problem for anyone to enter. Beyond those were a pair of gates that proved to be the problem, these were magically sealed to anyone that had not been written into the registry contained in the Mystic Archives. Valen had no idea what they did once they thought you dead; did they cross your name out? Who knew, but he'd soon find out as he approached said gates. Much to his surprise and relief they opened, this would make his job easier. Sneaking around in the middle of the night here would be too bothersome.

Once in the gates, he took his first view. Nothing had changed here at all. Valen noted the posted battle mage as he walked by him; he was receiving the eye of suspicion. If Valen screwed up and got noticed, this guard would probably be the one to put him as number one on the list. He brushed the eye off and continued about his way, descending the steps to the lower level of the grounds.

The University was center for powerful magic and items forged from it. Any warrior with half a brain would realize the potential use for the things here and set out to complete the required tasks for membership in the Mages Guild. At one time, Valen had been that kind of warrior, or rather adventurer. It was this knowledge that had led him to join, and become a proficient spell caster. The Mages Guild is also what set him on his path to become a dark brother.

You don't find the Dark Brotherhood, they find you. One would think it impossible for them to receive contracts for hits if they went door to door asking if you needed their services. One would be a fool if they thought that was how they did it. No, the Brotherhood is something more than that. It is headed by a dark god named Sithis, the "Dread Father" and by his side is the unholy maiden, the Night Mother. Anyone in need of the Brotherhood's services has to contact the Night Mother through ritual.

The guiding force of the Dark Brotherhood is the Black Hand, a group of five. Among them, the most powerful is the Listener, and the remaining four are the Speakers. It is the Listener that holds conference with the Night Mother, which he or she then relays to the Speakers. The Speakers then come to you, and a deal is made: they kill whoever you want in exchange for gold and one soul, yours or someone of immediate relation to you. In the final act, the contract is given to any eager assassin to carry out for payment.

Valen's history as an assassin was extensive, but his initiation had been an odd one, one that didn't occur often. He had been on an assignment to Cheydinhal when the whole crazy mess started. Valen had no problem with killing in self defense, or as a protector or avenger. As a member of the Mages Guild he was required to carry out tasks in the name of the Arch-Mage, and he had been ordered to deliver a special package to Cheydinhal. Unfortunately for the Brotherhood member that had been paid to intercept, Valen had been the better fighter.

It had been a close fight because Valen had been caught off guard with an arrow in the shoulder, and then from the trees descended an imperial dressed in full leather with a dagger. Needless to say, Valen hadn't allowed him the finishing blow and gave him via a full blast of lightning in the face. The assassin stilled didn't have the last laugh either, as Valen realized the arrow had been poisoned and handled the situation coolly.

It hadn't helped though, that while he was looting the body after handling the arrow that a Legion soldier had come riding through. Imperials have a natural distaste for Dark Elves, and the sight of one his race dead with a Dark Elf looting him didn't look good on Valen's part. Without demanding an explanation, the soldier had attacked which shortly became a chase and then a standing battle, one that Valen once again won.

It is also the job of the Speakers to recruit new members into their fold, and although they made contact with true murderers for recruitment, there was always the anomaly. Valen had become one of those anomalies as he lay down to sleep that night, exhausted from outsmarting the soldier who claimed he was a murderer. While he slept, Lucien LaChance, a Speaker had tracked him down.

At first there was nothing but a cold blade pressed against his throat, and a threat to use it if Valen didn't keep quiet and listen. He had gotten away with killing the Legionnaire but such a deed would have repercussions if not now, then later. In the end, Valen had decided to join the Brotherhood. The Legion would not change its views on him, even if he did ride straight into town with the truth even with the backing of the Mages Guild. The Empire was absolute; the Guild would only have so much influence. Afterwards, Lucien had taken care of everything tying up loose ends and ending it with Valen's own faked murder.

His hand grasped the handle of the door that would lead to the inside of the archives. Valen pushed causing the door to swing inward with a loud creak; the main room of the archives was brightly lit. Bookcases lined the walls, crammed full of centuries of information. Upstairs would be the same way, but what Valen wanted was in the Director's office, the registry.

He was approached by one of the Mages that worked here.

"Can I help you Sir?"

Valen smiled from beneath his hood.