I strolled aimlessly about the city, trying to cool off. "Who does he think he is?" I grumbled to myself, crossing my arms. I suppressed a shiver, taking random twists and turns through Windhelm. There wasn't any reason to worry about the would-be killer; I had no doubt I could take him down if he was stupid enough to attack in broad daylight- especially at the moment. I was confident I could take down a minotaur in my state.

"...Then it's true, what everyone is saying?" The voice of a young boy rang out through the morning air. "That Aventus Aretino is doing the Black Sacrament?" This time I couldn't stop the shudder. The Black Sacrament was an unholy ritual, meant to summon the darkest of assassins to kill whomever they desired. If Bishop was right, and the Dark Brotherhood still practiced their dark art here in Skyrim...

"Oh, Grimvar. Always with the nonsense." This time, it was a woman who spoke. I sped up a bit until I saw the pair, a Dark Elf and Nord boy chatting next to a large stone home. "No, no. Of course not. Those are just tales." I knew she was lying from the fear and nervousness in her voice, and judging from the boy's next words, he knew it too.

"Fine. Then I'll invite him out to play," Grimvar challenged. "He lives right there. I'm going to knock on his door..." The boy turned toward the house.

"No, child!" the Dunmer woman cried desperately, grasping his shoulder to prevent him from going any further. "Wait!" She started to grumble. "That boy, that house- they're cursed." I walked a bit closer, trailing my hand along the snowy wall to my left.

The boy crossed his arms, triumphant. "Ha!" he crowed. "Then I'm right! I knew it." I could tell from the Dunmer's stance that I was not the only one filled with unease. "He's trying to have somebody killed!"

It took a moment for the Dark Elf to respond. "Alright," she admitted, defeated. "I won't deny it, child. What you heard is true. But Aventus Aretino walks a dark path," she warned, "and his actions can only lead to ruin. Now, enough. We will speak no more of this. I am the only friend you need." With a trembling smile, she took the boy's hand and headed away from the house. Of course, my own curiosity was piqued, and I contemplated whether or not to enter and talk to this 'Aventus Aretino' boy.

Curiosity got the better of me. Besides, there was no chance the killer was a little boy. The door was unlocked, and I walked into the house without a problem.

Inside, a desperate-sounding boy's voice repeated one thing over and over again. "Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me... for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear. Sweet Mother, sweet Mother..." A sob interrupted his words. "Why won't you answer me, Night Mother? I've been asking for so long..."

I ascended the stairs, legitimately concerned for the boy. "Hello?"

The pounding of small feet on the wooden floor headed toward me, and I soon saw the boy known as Aventus Aretino. He had short cut brown hair and dark brown eyes with a gleefully hopeful expression on his face. Somehow, he looked familiar. "It worked! I knew you'd come, I just knew it! I did the Black Sacrament, over and over. With the body and the... the things. And then you came! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood."

I held up my hands. "I'm sorry, boy, but I'm not who you think I am."

"Of course you are!" Aventus squealed, relief spreading his little mouth into a smile. "I prayed, and you came, and now you'll accept my contract!"

"Contract?" I echoed, seeing where the conversation was leading.

The boy's face fell. "My mother, she... she died." He looked away, tears spilling onto his pale freckled cheeks. "I... I don't know where my father is. She always said he'd come back one day, and he did, and then he..." Aventus wiped at his nose. "He left again. I'm all alone now. So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften... Honorhall." The Nord boy spoke with a nasty tone. "The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind. But she's not kind. She's terrible, to all of us! So I ran away and came home and performed the Black Sacrament. Now you're here! And you can kill Grelod the Kind!"

"Grelod... the Kind?" I blinked several times, wondering at the coincidence. "As it turns out, I, uh... already killed her."

At first disbelief, then ecstasy spread over the boy's features. "You did? Really? This is the best news I've ever gotten!" He jumped up and down, clapping his hands. "I mean, I knew the Dark Brotherhood was good... just not that good! You killed the old hag before I even asked!" He stopped suddenly and ran to a nearby cupboard. "Oh, and please, take this as payment. It's an old family heirloom, supposed to be pretty valuable. It should fetch you a nice price. Thank you again!" He handed me a large silver platter, and I set it aside.

"Look, buddy... you go ahead and keep it, okay? Keep it until you can come back when you grow up."

Aventus rushed at my legs and hugged them tightly. "Thank you, Dark Brotherhood! Thank you!" When he beamed at me, the familiarity clicked.

"Boy... who was your father?" I asked warily.

Aventus took a step back. "Just a treasure-hunter."

"What was his name?"

"Mom said his name was Nade. He was a Breton, but I'm still a Nord."

At the confirmation, I could do nothing but stand with a gaping mouth. "Nade," I whispered. Nade Armenson. Your father... is my target.