"As their name suggests, the Dark Brotherhood has a history shrouded in obfuscation. Their ways are secret to those who are not Brothers of the order (Brothers is the generic term: some of the deadliest of the assassins are female, but they are called Brothers as well)." - Brothers of Darkness
Mid Year 24, 4E2
Mess Hall, Subterranean Sanctuary
I looked over my quad of cards. One Jack, two nines, and an eight. A pretty unremarkable hand. I put down the Jack. Jilheen flipped them all over. Ah-Marz took the pool with his Queen.
"So did she ever tell you about her time in the Dark Brotherhood?" Ah-Marz asked. The deceased Argonian heroine had not been a path we had taken the conversation into lightly. It was the first time since the day of her death and makeshift funeral (echoing Rizzani's) that we were rehashing my old memories.
"No," I said. "We never talked about it." It seemed like her murderous past would be a painful and awkward subject. Sort of like this was now...
Maybe one day we would meet again in Aetherius, but being of more scientific mind I leaned towards the dream-sleeve theory.
I submitted my nine. The game seemed more like idle toil than play with the grim subject.
Jilheen-Bolineena turned them all over. Ah-Marz had slyly withheld his King, and Jilheen had fallen right into his trap. Well played, though it was hard to feel much more than a flinch of acknowledgement given the morose atmosphere. He swept them into his pile with a tastefully nuetral face. The other Argonian began dealing again.
The elf who had killed Soch-Eena was still out there, working for an enemy no one in The Knights of New Elsweyr could properly identify. At least she had died after the honor of bestowing me a little more information on the villians.
The Leyawiinite's dealing, still fast despite the gloomy subject matter, was finished. I looked at my cards.
"You know what one of the locals told me on that mission yesterday?" He was changing the subject. That was fine; For now, Soch-Eena's legacy had been an exhausted matter. I examined my cards. It looked like my best bet was an Undercut. I put down my three.
"What?" Ah-Marz inquired while he submitted his own unknown card.
Jilheen put his into the pool.
"He said we were the ones who destroyed Jar'Tain." Elsweyr's corruption ridden border town. What the hell? Two major questions flew to mind.
"Destroyed Jar'Tain!?" When was Jar'Tain destroyed? How?
"You didn't hear about the storm?" Jilheen asked.
"No." But the local was accusing us of sending it!? I knew my emotions were about to head to a very different place. My heart was already beating harder.
"There was some bad tropical wind storm along that part of the coast, fetched up shit real bad."
"Why the hell would we send a storm?" And how the hell would we send a storm? Anger was coming to overtake my previously somber mind.
He flipped the pieces of paper over emotionlessly, outwardly unaffected by the topic, and chortled. "I asked the same thing." My pulse hastened.
Ah-Marz had submitted Jack, Jilheen a ten, and me a three. My undercut was a success, but I could feel little joy as I swept up the pile.
"Why did he say we did it?" Though maybe it was foolish to journey deeper into this topic; It would take a while to cool down after what I had heard already.
"He said we were trying to cover up shady dealings or some such." I was half stunned at how far these accusations could go, and half infuriated. This topic was mind poison for me, a fiery vortex that would suck me further and further to its core, but...maybe anger was a good alternative to melancholy.
"With who!?" Although on second thought I was probably angry enough. Anger meant restlessness.
The Jilheen picked his card and submitted it.
"Hell if I know. He just thought if we were in Jar'Tain, we must have been making some." Mother Mara. "His buddy agreed with him too."
My blood boiled, and I looked down at my hand with a distant mind and for the first time I made a random choice, now not caring about the game at all. There was foul fury deep in my guts and bones at these self-deluded maniacs.
It was that kind of rhetoric and insanity that got so many good people killed here. I imagined a shouting match with that bastard.
But as much as my outrage, what could I retort? We already had a staff that could destroy buildings with a simple thrust and devices that could turn us into chimera. Who was to say this secretive cabal of terrors did not have some storm making trinket hidden in this dark sanctuary?
But no, it sounded like a mad man's raving. It must have been a ridiculous theory. My intuition screamed as much, and my intuition was rarely wrong. There had to be some way to refute his accusation right beneath my nose...
Or maybe not. Perhaps that was the frustrating, damning price of hoarding so many secrets, of having all the best and enigmatic magics on your side. The price of power.
But surely that was a laputan way to cover up-
There was noise. Not loud, but not subtle either. Some muffled yelling...sounding like it was coming from the ruin. Here was something new to think about.
I looked at the others' faces. They seemed to have heard it too. My affect had yet another place to go.
"Someone's at the entrance," I said.
Who could they be? This was an ominous question. It was not the Mane's courier. Yet again my emotions would get tugged to another realm. This time...worry.
I pushed out my chair. "Jilheen, get armed. Ah-Marz, alert the others. We'll gather infront of the door."
We quickly moved to do our parts. The muffled shouting came again. It sounded like a lone man, but of course that could be deceit. Our enemies could have found us. This could be, at long last, the lion at our door, our apocalypse so long anticipated in the back of my mind?
Stomping out into the hallway, the others would soon also be in combat readiness too, albeit not by my word.
I burst through the armory entrance and, from the plethora of weapons, grabbed a Pellitinian saber, then immediately turned back out. What lied behind that slab of bricks, only its descent could reveal.
Newly equipped and back in the hall, I positioned myself next to the lever. Behind me, I could hear the others, led by Ah-Marz, heading into the armory for their own tools. My mind was raced over what forms could occupy the other side: Twenty rebel barbarians gathered for the pull of our lever? Though even that number would have difficulty getting through so funneled, and it would be a bloody fight.
I turned as my men emerged back into the corridor with their weapons.
"Dagger Formation!" I commanded and they positioned themselves as I turned back to the fateful door.
The softened shouting came again, but this time I was close enough to pick out some of its intricacies. I could make out my name at the beginning. It was saying a long sentence. And it did not sound like a Khajiit, but rather...a Nibenean. But that was too light a matter to let my guard down over
Yet if this was the enemy at our gates, the voice was no doubt meant to lore me. Did I have to comply? Maybe I should not play into their plan. Maybe I could convince them they were wrong about our locale? But they might not be convinced, and then we might confront them at a time unknown, outside. They might decide to set up a camp in our vicinity and await our emergence. Facing them in this narrow passageway was optimal.
But...
But nothing. Putting off this fight was naturally attractive, but whatever was on the other side, we would face it now. Strange but familiar feelings flowed through my arms, my body imbued with sensitivity and a sense of purpose, as these muscles and joints would determine who lived and died.
Was it time?
It was time. If there was to be a battle at our doorstep, it would be now. No reason to reminisce further.
I pulled the lever, the sound as harsh as breaking glass in midnight. The stone door started falling. My blood bubbled with adrenaline.
At first there was nothing, just the upper extremities of the vault. But that was expected. A fight could still await, and my biceps and arcane mind were primed.
Then a chestnut color. The top of a head. An Imperial.
I loosened, deflated. So far so good. His white shirt and brown vest became clear, and as the slab moved down past his belt to reveal a man so harmless looking, I became more and more confident this was nothing, and felt more and more like laughing at my previous worries.
The door finished, the last vestige of the previous, tense scene, as worry continued to flow out of me. Still no fight. It seemed time to dismiss that prospect.
"Who are you?"
He looked completely out of place somewhere so obscure, secret and important. How the hell did he know the location of our clandestine hideout?
"Oh, um, my apologies." I suddenly realized our arms must have made him uneasy. I lowered my sword, since, thank the Nine, it seemed they would now have no use. "I am but a courier. I work for Kastav Antonius, Master of the Antonius Sugar Company. I know you've seen our operations in Elsweyr."
Kastav Antonius...yes. I had protected his local office personally, albeit from the shadows. But what the hell was a businessman doing in on top secret state (or formerly state) affairs?
"How the hell did you find this place?" Even in my blissful relief I felt a trace of annoyance.
"My master, Mr. Antonius, was aware of your existence here." How? These circumstances were still outrageous.
"Even the location of this hideout?" This was bewildering. This was one of the most guarded secrets in Tamriel, or should have been by any common sense! The idea of it leaking into the lap of a sugar monger was...awful. What was I missing here?
"Well...yes," the courier said somewhat sheepishly.
"How the hell did he learn of that?" Though I realized my words were probably unnecessarily sharp with him. The harmless looking man was probably left out of the loop. I should soften my tone.
The courier responded, "He says he...ummm, has friends in the Elder Council." Rich men and nobles often did but...
"And they divulge that information that readily?" How wrong had I been about the integrity of our officials? Even after they had sold out this war, I still thought they were above such recklessness. This was a travesty, but I would try to keep anger out of my tone.
"Well...yes...I suppose..." The poor errand boy was just caught in the middle, stuck between forces much taller than himself.
There was silence. The Nibenean looked down uncomfortably.
"Well, what is it you want?" I asked with a lighter tone. I would take up grievances with Kastav Antonius, though I could tell I was only beginning to feel their weight.
"He has requested a meeting with you," the messenger said. That was quite a demand from a guy who was not supposed to be able to find me at all. "He has a business deal to offer."
Making business deals with dungeon dwelling renegade super soldiers? This was truly odd.
"At his office in the Sugar Groves District?"
He nodded.
The messenger extended his hand, with a small piece of paper. "The meeting will be in two days time. At noon, precisely."
I gently grabbed it and mumbled a 'thank you' and looked down at the parchment. It was not a formal letter. It was directions. Not regal. Not smooth. Simple and to the point. As blunt and rude and terse as my introduction to the appallingly loose lips of the Elder Council...and Kastav Antonius himself, by confiding our location in a nobody courier.
But this was something new in a nation where horror had become mundane and success was little more than living another day. Change always meant a tiny possibility of progress. Yes, I would certainly meet with Mr. Antonius.
