Markarth, the city of stone, was beautiful despite it being true to its name and being completely made of stone with a stream flowing through the city. The assassin entered the bronze doors for the third time at midday and walked passed the marketplace and over a small, stoned bridge over the stream, to the Silver-Blood Inn. He opened the large, metal door to a grand room with the bar in the center and a fire behind it.

"Welcome to the Silver-Blood Inn," an older man greeted as he wiping down an empty, stoned counter.

The assassin ignored him and went to the rooms on the left, hoping that she was going to be here. Taking the first room on the left, he opened it, finding a woman sitting at the desk on the right. "Muriri?"

She got up and looked at him with a gasp and large, hazel eyes. She was a small Breton with chin-length, brunette hair. Her brown dress was simple with a purse and a dagger at her hip. "You are you?" she asked as her eyes narrowed.

"Guess," he growled, closing the door.

"The Dark Brother–" Her frightful voice faded. "Oh. Oh, the Sacrament worked. So," she said, folding her arms, trying to be brave. "You have received my contract then."

"We have," he murmured, not able to take his eyes off her. She was smaller than him by six inches and was just a simple human, but her narrow, hazel eyes were captivating like a lover whispering promises. "Who do you want me to kill?"

"A man named Alain Dufont. He was charming and wondrous, but he used me," she spat. "He told me he wanted to be with me and that he loved me and even called me the 'beautiful lily' in his dreams. I was friends with the Shatter-Shields and their daughter, Friga, was killed. Murdered. He heard about this and wanted to get close to the family and rob them blind and he used me to get to them. It turns out he's a leader of bandits! Cutthroats..." She loosely hugged herself. "You will find him in the dwarven ruins of Raldbthar on the outskirts of Windhelm."

He was familiar with the Shatter-Shields from living in Windhelm himself and they were just a family of noble Nords. "It will be done."

"And there is... one more thing. After the... incident, the Shatter-Shields blamed me for Alain's mess and called me a monster, then they wanted nothing to do with me. I was like a sister to Nilsine and Friga and a daughter to Tova and they tossed me aside like I had planned the whole thing!"

"Who do want me to kill exactly?" he coldly asked. If she said to murder the whole family, so be it.

"Nilsine. I want you to kill Nilsine and there will be a bonus if you do. She and her family live in Windhelm."

He wanted to tell her that he already knew that, but was secretly mused. This woman was devious. She was used and wanted revenge. She was cast aside and wanted revenge. "Anything else?" he softly asked, not removing his eyes from her hazel gaze.

"Actually, yes." Muiri carefully removed two, small, yellow bottles from her purse on her hip and handed them to him. "Lotus Extract. I made them myself. I wanted to killed Alain and Nilsine myself, but I lost my nerve."

The assassin's gaze snapped from the poison to the woman's eyes. She was devious with a quiet personality. Sithis help the next person who decides to betray her and when they do, the assassin will return or she may even take care of it herself. He placed the poison in his own pouch. "It will be done," he prmised, looking her in the eyes before leaving.


As the assassin arrived at the stables of Windhelm the next night, he growled to himself. How he hated this city! At least he was going to murder noble someone from it and he knew exactly where the Shatter-Shields' house was. The sky was darkening and that was perfect for him. The assassin wondered through the cobblestoned streets of the snowy city as people were already in their cozy, warm homes. He remembered the Butcher who once roamed the streets, but met his end with Styrr roughly five months ago. How appropriate it was for a necromancer to live in the same house that another necromancer used for his ritual.

"Dovahkiin!" a thunderous boom roared through the sky, causing the guards and others to stop and look.

Ryvren shook his head as he turned away from the darkening sky. He had a job to do. He wondered through the cemetery and turned right. The first house to the left was the Shatter-Shields' with one up stairs window was faintly glowing. The assassin stayed out of the guards' sight as he picked the door's lock and snuck into the dark house. He slowly unsheathed the ebony swords and crept up the stairs to the second floor. He found a closed door, opened it a pinch, finding the husband and wife in bed, then slowly closed it. He crept to the other side of the house and found another bedroom two rooms down where a young woman was sitting at a table with her back to him, reading. The silent assassin crept behind her, drew a sword across her throat and slit it. He held her shoulder down to stop her body from falling, but the book hit the wooden floor. He looked over his shoulder to the parents' room.

They didn't hear.

The assassin left as quickly and quietly as he entered and hurried to the small town of Kynesgrove to stay the night. He woke up at the break of dawn and hurried out of the inn before questions were asked. It took almost thirty minutes to get to the dwarven ruins up in the mountains. He hated the snow and now the dunmer was hiking up snowy mountains. He was cursing to himself, using his dunmeri ancestral fire magic to keep him warm. When he came across the two tiers of stoned staircases, three bandits were outside. Without hesitation, the assassin swiftly killed the first one and ran up the icy stairs as arrows were bouncing off behind him. He impaled the first archer and kept dodging the second archer's arrows, who ended up with a decapitated head. The assassin entered the large, bronze door and was shaking from the cold. He crept through the icy, stone hall with large pipes coursing through. He killed a bandit sleeping in a bed roll and continued through the hall. He massacred his way through the stoned halls and when he got to a locked gate, he carefully picked it, and slowly pushed it open to a wooden catwalk that had two, bronze crossbow-looking contraptions aimed below where three bandits were sitting around a spit over a fire. One man stood out. He was wearing nice robes with a warhammer strapped to his back. Ryvren narrowed his eyes. Alian Dufont no doubt. He noticed an orange-purple liquid glimmering in the fire's light. Oil. Since he was not yet noticed, he silently place a sword down and pulled the level on the device, launching a bolt into the oil. An explosion erupted, causing the oil to ignite and catching Dufont on fire.

The dying screams echoed through the stoned hall as the other two bandits jumped from their seats, noticing the assassin. They unsheathed their weapons and ran up the stairs to him. He picked up his sword and ran to them to finish what he started.


The exhausted dunmer returned to Markarth almost at sunset and went straight to the Silver-blood Inn and to the same room, then hissed in annoyance when Muiri wasn't there. He turned around and as he was about to step into the main hall, the breton entered the inn wearing a green dress. The two made eye contact. He broke it when he returned to the room as she arrived within seconds and closed the metal door behind her. He looked the small woman in the eye. "It's done. Both are dead."

Muiri gently smiled with hazel eyes shining. "Thank you." She reached into her purse and removed a pouch of gold. "Your payment."

He accepted the coin.

"And," she removed a silver ring with a sapphire on it from her left hand, "your bonus. It can bring you coin." She gently placed it in his gloved hand.

Ryvren looked her in the eyes, feeling a softness come over him. He was exhausted from the journey and the fact that he murdered plenty of bandits early morning, but as of right now, he was relaxed and she was soothing to be with. "Thank you, Muiri."

She seemed surprised for a moment, then turned away with a shy smile and blush. Clearing her throat, she looked back at him. "No, thank you. You put your life at risk for two contracts and one was just a simple bonus."

He almost wanted to kiss her. Sithis, what was wrong with him? She was a contract! A client; and she was lovely. He tried push the thought aside, but the way she was looking at him with sly, gentle eyes. She was dangerous in her own way and he liked danger.

"May I know your name?" she whispered, stepping up to him without breaking their gaze.

Clearly, she liked danger herself.

"Ryvren."

A delicate smile formed over her lips. "Ryvren."

The way her said her name was like a candle flame. Gentle and warm. He carefully lean forward and kissed her soft lips. To his surprise, she accepted the tender kiss.

Muiri, however, turned away. "This is wrong. You're an assassin. A murderer."

"So are you," he whispered. "Hiring the Dark Brotherhood since you 'lost the nerve'."

She snapped her head to him with a glare. "I am not like you."

"No. You would be silent. If you were a killer, you would've secretly placed the poison in Nilsine's drink if given the chance and if you got close enough, you would've slipped a poison dagger into Dufont." He looked her in the eyes and saw a hint treachery. He smirked, gently kissing her again. "Don't worry. You'll see me again, Muiri." He left the room and hurried out of the city.