Y'all are in luck. I wanted to work on the fic, but didn't feel like writing. Hint: On QuestionableQuesting (requires account), the fic is already 80k words long.

Chapter 4 Brother

I prepare carefully. I don't want to be seen much, but luckily, my stealth is getting better.

When night falls, I prepare for my first night of observation. I sneak past the back of the building and open the door with a lockpick and a minute of time.

The building is already silent. I scout around, stepping softly. Even the mere fact that I'm a Khajiit helps me remain undetected as I study the layout.

It's a two-floor building. On the lower floor, there are a few rooms. In the back, there's a locked door, but judging by the room next to it, it can't be more than a broom closet. It might have things the kids can hurt themselves with, so I don't open it.

Unlocking something with a lockpick is pretty doable, but locking it back is a lot harder.

There's also a small office on the other side of the stairs.

On the top floor, there are a few rooms, and a look inside shows some beds in each, with peacefully sleeping children. At the end of the hall is a larger room, obviously the matron's.

All looks decent, though.

But the smells tell a different story. It's faint, but I can smell blood.

I head downstairs again, but I can't pinpoint the source.

Ah well, probably just a kid with a skinned knee or something.

I am in luck. While the ceiling is high, near the walls there are platforms under the roof. These are used primarily for storage, but they're also a great place to sneak upon to spy upon the Orphanage.

Because if I don't and the Dark Brotherhood finds out, they'll probably just kill the matron, anyway. The deal was that they wouldn't if I spied and brought a report.

I climb up and hide myself. Curling up behind a couple of boxes, I take a little catnap. It's still hours until sunrise, after all.

— A Dragon's Game —

The kids are woken up early, and suddenly to their early morning chores.

They're pretty mature. Some of the older ones do the cooking, while a few others set the table. I settle in for a long day.

Grelod comes down a bit later, apparently having herded the rest of the kids who hadn't been downstairs yet. In total, there're about twelve kids. More than I expected, but less than you'd perhaps think in a city as big as Riften. Perhaps this was only for the ones with no family to take them in?

Regardless, Grelod opens the meal, and they eat neatly. There is some chatter, but the mood seems subdued.

Grelod talks more. She asks the kids questions and makes remarks. Apparently, the breakfast isn't very well-made.

Can't improve without knowing the truth.

She might be a bit harsh on the girl, though. She's shrinking in on herself, and she's taking it bad. She hunches her shoulders over for the rest of the meal.

I'd say she could be a bit more gentle, but she probably knows a lot more about raising kids than a barely adult cat like me.

After breakfast, some kids take the stuff to the kitchen, but then they gather back in the room.

Apparently someone had to be punished? I don't understand why everyone has to be present for that.

Grelod takes the girl roughly by her arm. What's her name, Runa? She's… shoved onto the table. That could be gentler. Wait, Grelod pulls her dress up over her head? But the girl is like, twelve! She doesn't wear anything under the dress… that's so not done.

Stunned silent and motionless in surprise, a boy approaches Grelod, a smirk on his face. He hands her a whip? Then he moves to the girl's head and holds her arms down.

I can see the woman lifting the whip.

Whipping a child, over slightly to cold breakfast?

Perhaps the Dark Brotherhood had a point.

I jump down, over the girl, and straight at Grelod.

I feel my claw sinking into her neck, and I'm filled with satisfaction at the knowledge that this monster won't ever hurt another child again.

My nails tear through her windpipe, and I can feel the muscles in her neck moving.

My other hand grabs the arm holding the whip, and I feel her struggle feebly. Her free hand tries to grab my face, but my arms are too long.

In what feels like half a second, she drops backwards on the ground, unmoving.

There's exactly two seconds of stunned silence as I realize what I just did, in full sight of an orphanage full of kids.

The boy holding Runa down stepped back in fear. She pulls her dress down, then looks at me, and my right hand drenched in the matron's lifeblood.

Then she's suddenly right up against me. Her arms are holding me with a desperate strength, her face squashed against my ribs, as I hear her repeat really fast.

"ThankYouThankYouThankYouThankYou…"

Luckily, she's on my left. I put my clean, left arm around her, and give her a gentle squeeze. "It's ok, little one. You're safe now."

I glare at the boy from under my eyes.

He's 15, I think. I really want to take him to the Jarl. He was helping the matron's torture.

"Boy." I glare at him directly, so that nobody can doubt who I mean.

Runa pulls back slightly, and I let up a little pressure, but I don't remove my arm.

She doesn't remove hers either, but looks at the boy.

"You're going to go to Mistveil Keep, and you're going to tell them you want to join the guards. Gather what you own here and never come back. Understood?"

"Yessir." He answers swiftly. He was grinning when he helped the matron, so he deserves every bit of the fear he feels. Perhaps it'll convince him to never do anything like this again.

"And when you have your stuff, two of the others here will look through it to ensure you only have things you actually own."

He nods and runs up the stairs.

The moment he disappears, I can almost feel the tension in the room lower.

Apparently, he was the only one who really was on the matrons side. Another kid walks up to me.

"Thank you, sir. You saved us all. I'm Samuel."

Runa lets me go, looking kind of embarrassed, and smiles at me. "I'm Runa Fair-Shield. I'm so glad Aventus contacted you all."

"Yeah, he did it!" Samuel responded. "He said he was going to do the Black Sacrament when he ran away, but I never thought he'd actually manage to do it."

Well, at least I've made a lot of kids happy. One by one, they approach me to thank me.

"Ok, kids. You have to know, if anybody asks, then I didn't do it, okay? You might all know what happened, and that it was a good thing, but the guards can't. So if they ask, then the one who killed Grelod ran away before any of you could get a closer look."

They seem to get it right away, luckily enough.

I really don't want to go to jail for this.

I witness the one boy that helped the matron leave, and I prepare to leave as well.

There's an additional caretaker who should arrive in an hour or so, so the kids will be fine.

One is practically dancing on the old woman's corpse.

I can't help but think I've not given a good example of conflict resolution.

One of the kids points me to a barrel of rainwater outside, and I wash the blood out of my fur. It's already starting to clump a bit together, which is very, very, very annoying. Nonetheless, I get it all out. They pour the dirty water down a drain that goes straight into the canal, and I leave.

Relationship with the children of Honorhall Orphanage increased by 30!

Wow, and that isn't modest either.

— A Dragon's Game —

I arrive in the cistern in a pensive mood. Even in a situation like this, is murder really the best solution? I feel like I'm a bit too casual about it.

I've killed a lot of bandits, sure. The first set was self-defense, and the second set was sanctioned by the Jarl. I even got paid for it.

And now I've murdered an old woman. Sure, she deserved it about as much as anyone can, but… What if I'd talked to her?

Old, probably stuck in her ways. By the reactions of the children, corporeal punishment wasn't exceptional, even something as extreme as whipping.

I wouldn't have been able to peacefully convince her to never do it again. Even if I'd intimidated her and then watched her for a while, she'd resume her behavior as soon as I'd leave.

I could inform the Jarl… but would anything really happen? The skooma was actively bringing down the productivity of the citizens, up to the point of lowering tax revenue.

But a few children with no immediate economic value?

Perhaps. But I can't believe that nobody knew before either, and nothing was done. You can't hide whippings very well, and it can take weeks to heal.

And so, at least one child, this Aventus, went for the permanent method, and he contacted the Dark Brotherhood. I don't know what he paid, or what he said, but it was enough to get them to at least scout it out. And apparently, decide it would be appropriate for a first timer.

And Astrid must have known. She was far too confident when we made our little deal.

Well, I should stop angsting on my bed and go do something useful. Lets go practice my stealth.

— A Dragon's Game —

Your Sneak has leveled to 24!

Your Pickpocketing has leveled to 17!

Your Lockpicking has leveled to 15!

It's been a few days, and I've improved quite a lot, when Delvin asks for me.

When I meet his grinning face, I also notice Astrid on the table, wearing a smug smile.

"Hello, J'samma. I've heard about your accomplishments. A kind matron, brutally butchered in front of the poor orphans."

"You knew."

"Yes, I did. And you needed to know to. If you join the Brotherhood, J'samma, I don't want you to blindly follow orders. It's in the name. We're a family. And in order to join us, you have to know why we are sometimes necessary to keep Skyrim stable and decent."

"You're saying you're a force for stability?"

"Yes. Our prices aren't the same for everyone, you see."

She bends forwards to a pack on the ground and takes out a silver platter.

"I've visited the one who called this contract. This was the payment he offered. Sure, it's an heirloom, but it's market value… what d'you say, Delv?"

"'Bout fifty gold for this one."

"The boy thought this was a good price for a kill. Tell me, J'samma, do you think a life is worth 50 gold to the Dark Brotherhood?"

"No, it should be a lot more."

"And for everyone else, it would have been. If the Emperor himself had contacted us, I would have negotiated at around ten-thousand for a target this easy. You see, the mere existence of the Brotherhood keeps the land fair, and keeps a lot of oppression away, because even the poorest of the oppressed can contact us, and send us after their oppressors."

"And you think that it actually works that way."

She laughs warmly. "No, my dear. I know it works this way. Always has, always will. If you join, I can tell you tons of examples. Of course, Delvin here might consider you a better fit for us than for them, but there's no rule about having to be a member of only one of our organizations. It's perfectly fine to be a Dark Brother and a Thief at the same time. We often do business. So, would you be willing to join us?"

"Ok, I'll join."

She smiles. "Very well. First things first, you have to go to our sanctuary in Falkreath."

"Would it be okay if I wait a few more days here? I got the Jarl to have the court wizard teach me a few things over the week, and I don't want to abruptly disappear."

"That's fine. Delvin, would you mind…?"

"You got it." Delvin stands up and leaves the table. Ah, of course. Keep the Sanctuary secret.

Astrid continues. "To reach the sanctuary, leave Falkreath through the west gate. Follow the path for three hours, then turn left. There should be a barely visible dirt track, reaching a black pond after, say, ten minutes. Drink a single hand of water from it." She holds her hand slightly curved. "And you'll be able to see a black and red door in the cliff. The door will ask you a question, and you will answer 'Silence, My Brother'. Got it?"

"Falkreath, leave west, three hours, dirt path, drink from the black pond, 'Silence, my Brother'."

"Very good. Just enter, go downstairs, and even if I'm not there, introduce yourself. They already know about you. But I'll try to be there."

"Okay, I'll head there when I'm done with the magical training I get."

"We're glad to have you, J'samma. Welcome to the family."

Then she surprises me by leaning forward and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Your reputation with the Dark Brotherhood has increased by 20! (20)

— A Dragon's Game —

I diligently attend the lessons Wylandriah gives me. She's absentminded and forgetful, but also kind and very knowledgeable. Whenever I succeed at aiming her attention to a subject for a longer period of time, it is fascinating to listen to. Even if she tends to drift into highly theoretical lessons, and I have to gently keep her on the topic of teaching a total novice instead of her trying to use me as a sounding board for what sounds like highly theoretical research.

Or random rambling, I don't know enough about it to make a value judgement.

Nevertheless, I learn a lot from her.

New Skill! Illusion.

New Skill! Mind Magic.

New Skill! Healing Magic.

And these skills come with a few new spells, too.


Mind Magic: Calm
For 60 seconds, calms a target up to level 9 on touch. Calmed targets don't take hostile actions, but will remember everything that happens.

Cost:
Mana: 50


Healing: Heal Self
Heal yourself for [B]14 [/B] every second.

Cost:
Mana: 10


Illusion: Chameleon
Hides you by making yourself and your clothes transparent. Increases Stealth:Visual by 1 for every second this spell is cast continuously.

Cost:
Mana: 10


It's interesting that what Wylandriah calls the school of Illusion, this ability of mine categorizes it into Illusion and Mind magic, though both fall under the Apprentice class.

I suppose it makes sense, though. Calm does affect the target's mind, while Chameleon makes you sort of see-through, and muffle dampens the sound you make.

Presumably, spells like Courage, Fury and Fear will also be of the mind, while the more advanced Invisibility is probably Illusion.

And in the time I didn't spend with Wylandriah, I practiced my stealth. And did that go faster after I learned that little bit of Illusion magic to be harder to detect.

Turns out that Stealth levels faster when you're not detected, and using magic that helps people not detect you therefore speeds it up.

Groundbreaking, I know. But I feared that using that magic removed the required amount of skill, and would therefore slow down how fast I can level something.

I'm really glad I was wrong.

Still, my Illusion magic is still kind of weak, so it doesn't let me walk around the marketplace of Riften invisibly. I can't imagine how fast it would level then…

Your Sneak increased to level 43

Your Pickpocket increased to level 23

Your Lockpicking has increased to level 30

I left Pickpocket behind a bit. Sure, it's useful, but it won't save my life, unlike Sneak. Lockpicking is also great — locks are easier to pick without getting noticed, and can get you to treasure when no one is close.

Still, this evening was the last lesson I got from Wylandriah, so I'll start traveling to Falkreath tomorrow. The road is long — this trip will take me 6 days, if I can travel without delay. I should be able to pay the owner of Heartwood Mill to sleep there after the first day, but then it's three days of wilderness to Helgen, traveling the path south of the Throat of the World. I could make a detour to Ivarstead to sleep in an Inn, but that would also add a day to my travel time. Not worth it.

After Helgen, another night in the wilderness, and then I should reach Falkreath around noon. If I can get through without getting distracted, I should be able to reach the Sanctuary by nightfall.

Skyrim feels a lot bigger when walking through it than it does when looking on a map.

— A Dragon's Game —

I leave bright and early the next day. I'll be traveling the shores of Lake Honrich for the entire first day. That means that the path is basically entirely flat.

I encounter the bridge to Goldenglow Estate shortly before noon. Vex had some pretty awesome stories to tell about when she infiltrated the place, stole the contents of the vault, and pickpocketed the owner's money while he was awake, and he never even noticed her presence.

I have to scare a few wolves away a few hours later, but a single Firebolt into the ground in front of them convinces them I'm not food, and they retreat into the forest.

Which, by the way, is beautiful. Mom used to call this place the Woods of Eternal Autumn. I don't know if it's got an actual name, but I'm partial to that one.

Heartwood Mill is run by a woman named Grosta, helped by her son Gralnach. It appears that her husband, Leifnarr, has run away. Grosta suspects with some elven girl, as he'd said he went to the border with Morrowind to try to trade.

While she seems… distrustful to the fact that I'm male, my gold is still welcome, and I get to put my bedroll on a haystack under a roof.

And so I leave, at the crack of dawn, heading towards Falkreath again. It's about half an hour out that I get the first evidence of Grosta having emotions.

Your Affection with Grosta has increased by 5! (-5)

Apparently I started at minus ten with her, probably due to her bad experience with her marriage. She seems the type to generalize.

It's another long day of walking, making these forests seem endless. When I make camp, I can see some dwarven ruins to the distant south. Ivarstead would be about four hours off, one of them to the west and the other three to the north.

Although I think I could walk through the night, I simply like sleeping too much.

The next day, around noon, I find an abandoned shack. It seems to have belonged to an Alchemist. His journal seems to indicate he moved here for the ingredients, but also that his health improved.

Strange, it gives no clue what could have happened to him, and there doesn't seem to be blood splatter or anything.

There seems to be an alchemical lab in the garden, so I approach it. The moment I touch it, however…

This object needs the Alchemy skill to use. Please find a teacher or sufficient literature to learn this skill.

I'll take the Deathbell and Nightshade, though. Those seem useful, if I ever find an Alchemist to teach me.

I should keep that in mind and try to learn it as fast as I can. Making my own potions is bound to be incredibly useful.

As night falls, I find myself at the highest point I'll reach this journey. I read on a map that this cave is called Haemar's Shame. I have no clue who Haemar is, but I am looking for a dry place to sleep.

However, the moment I enter, my nose seems to disagree with this place. I press on, though. But I'm careful and Sneak, though I don't use magic to augment it.

When the small corridor opens up into a larger cavern, I see a structure made of wood before me. There's a bandit on top… an orc.

Probably not a good archer and therefore not a good one to have at that position, but he probably pissed off the bandit leader and got put on shit duty. He's not taking it to seriously, as he's sitting on a chair.

I activate Charmeleon and rush forwards towards the structure. If I'm close to it, he won't be able to see me.

I disactivate it as quickly as I can. While I can keep up Sneaking for pretty long, I can't do the same for Charmeleon — not while saving enough mana to remain useful in a fight.

I sneak around and up. When I have the orc straight in side, I shoot two Ice Spikes, hitting his neck with one and his waist with the other. He topples, making some noise, but doesn't get up, doesn't utter a sound, and nobody comes running. I sneak up, but there's nothing of value here. The orc doesn't even carry any gold, and even if I were an archer, this bow doesn't look dependable.

More like Firewood.

How big would this cave be? If it's small, maybe I can clear it out.

I continue sneaking through the caverns, and I smell blood in the air.

I see a figure in a black cloak standing up a slightly elevated bit of rock, with some wooden stairs in place. Sneaking again, I fire two Ice Spikes, but they seem to only barely have more effect than a punch. The figure turns around.

It's a woman. Or, well, used to be one. The vampire's face is deformed by the sickness. I can almost feel the hunger for my warm blood as she rushes towards me.

Right, vampires. Use fire, right?

I shoot firebolts as fast as I can. I hear an unholy screech as she's struck by the flames coming from my hands, and after four of them, she collapses into a pile of dust, leaving her clothes empty.

Vampires. I am so not sleeping in this cave. No matter how good sleep sounds, I'll be walking all the way to Helgen now. Should probably reach it around the end of the night.

But vampire dust was a useful alchemical ingredient, right?

I put it into my inventory, anyway.

There's nothing else here, and I won't explore further.

I leave the cave and walk to Helgen through the night, putting more distance between me and a cave full of vampires.

— A Dragon's Game —

I'm calmed down a bit. I know I'm getting stronger faster, but I have no wish at all to test that strength against vampires.

Helgen approaches on the horizon around the time dawn breaks. It's quite small for a settlement, and half of it is Imperial military structures. Then there's an Inn, a blacksmith, and the thick walls surrounding the place.

There also isn't a Falkreath guard at the gates, as might be expected since we're, you know, in Falkreath, but an Imperial soldier.

"Hold there, citizen. What's your business in Helgen?"

"Just passing through, actually, and perhaps resupply." I frown. Let's play the law-abiding citizen? "There's also something the Legion should perhaps be aware of."

"And what is that?"

"When I sought shelter in the cave known as Haemar's Shame, I encountered some vampires. I legged it out of there, of course, but I thought you'd might want to know."

"Yes, indeed. You did well to bring this to our attention. Which way are you heading after Helgen?"

"Falkreath."

"Then continue west once inside. The Inn and Blacksmith are both at the main street."

"Thank you."

He opens the gate, and I enter.

Inside it's clear that Helgen is primarily an Imperial fort, and only secondly a village. About half the people on the street are legionnaires.

It's also pretty small. In twenty minutes, I reach the west gate, and I'm on my way. I should reach around two-thirds on the way to Falkreath before night falls.

— A Dragon's Game —

Well after noon, I reach a cottage. A sign by the road proclaims it to be Pinewatch.

I won a day of time by walking through last night, so I might as well stop here. See if the owner has a hay pile or something for me to sleep in.

It's out in the middle of nowhere, but it's small. Even if bandits could have taken over, there can't be much inside, so how bad could it be?

I knock on the door, giving whoever lives there a bit of time.

But as soon as I knock a second time, the door is opened by a grumpy-looking guy.

"Whaddya want?"

"Just looking for a place to spend the night. Could I perhaps sleep here for a bit of coin?"

I can see that he wants to send me away, but the promise of gold lures him in.

"Fine, then. Come on downstairs."

I follow the man down the stairs. Then he turns around, suddenly drawing an axe.

"Now give me all your gold and valuables, and I'll let you leave alive."

I take a moment to consider the situation. That axe is… uncomfortably close, but he's not even armored. I get that Khajiit aren't exactly known for magic, but really?

It's not that rare.

I jump back, and shoot two Ice Spikes, easily penetrating the furs he wears, and impaling him through chest twice. He looks down in surprise, given me a great opportunity to shoot a third in his neck.

He drops to his knees, blood leaking out of his wounds and his mouth, reaches out for me, and then topples sideways silently.

I lower my hands. That was… sudden. Did I just kill a random farmer in his own house, even if it was because he mugged me?

A little bit of looking around finds me a note:

We got the right cart this time. The note has been sent and we'll see how they respond.

In the meantime, we'll keep breaking down this stuff - you keep selling off the wood to keep our front. If we can get a good price for the mold, we should be set for a while.

Oh and we left some wine for you in a bucket behind the shelf. Consider it a bonus.

Rigel Strong-Arm

Well, that explains it a bit. Doesn't seem like legal business. Behind the shelf…

Looking around, I find a cupboard that's partially fake. I can easily rotate it, and it shows a tunnel behind.

Looks like I found a bandit lair, led by this Rigel Strong-Arm dude. Just my luck.

But unlike vampires, bandits I can handle, and I have a reason to dislike them, so I'm going to wipe them out.

I move the bucket with wine bottles out of the way and sneak downwards. I come onto a ridge that looks old. There's a few raised wooden walkways, and I see some bandits.

I look around first, so that nothing can stab me in the back. To my left, there's a dead female altmer with a dagger in her back. Apparently I'm not the first one they just mugged.

Rifling through her pockets finds me nothing. I don't feel to guilty, because if she had something that could help me take down her killers, she wouldn't have minded.

I do notice that she doesn't seem to have been defiled. So I won't prolong the deaths of the bandits as long as I can, and just kill them quickly instead.

They're still murderers, just not also rapists.

I inspect the room in front of me.

There's two bandits walking over one of the bridges, side by side. Neither has the skin color of a dunmer, so I use Fire magic for this one. Further up, there's another sole bandit.

I start off with two fireballs, following it with a third. That's a significant mana investment of 210 Mana, but I got 410 total and 39 regeneration, after the magic taught to me by Wylandriah.

And both of the bandits go down in the blaze of fire striking them.

Great.

The third bandit hears the impacts, since Fireballs aren't subtle. I try some Firebolts and Ice Spikes in his direction, but he avoids them at first as he runs towards me, shield raised. Then when he gets closer, I throw a Fireball at his feet.

The sudden force from below disrupts his balance, opening up the possibility for me to finish him off with three Firebolts into his chest.

I loot the bodies, but they have little worth taking.

I search around, spying around the corridors that make up the mine, and soon find another room with three more bandits.

Luckily for me, the sole dunmer is armored very lightly, so I start by shooting some Ice Spikes at him.

He doesn't exactly die right away, but he's certainly incapacitated. The other two rush me, but a Fireball followed by some more Firebolts take them out.

Fire Magic increased to 30!

Nice, that levels me up, giving me an additional fifty mana to play with.

I approach the dunmer and stab him through the neck with my sword. No need for him to suffer needlessly.

Hmm… he was seated at a Grindstone…

You need the Smithing Skill to use this object.

By Azura, I need a skill for everything. First Alchemy and now Smithing… I guess I should be grateful I don't need a special skill to eat.

Leaving the area, I notice a single other bandit. I snipe him with three more Firebolts.

He might have been guarding a door or something?

Well, let's have a look…

It looks different, less like a mine, here. There's what looks like stone coffins… with partially mummified bodies in front of them, hacked apart?

Draugr, my memory supplies helpfully. Mom called them Draugr. Long dead nords, but sometimes enchanted to become undead to guard their own tombs.

There's a single bandit, again easily dispatched with Firebolts. Given that I'm sneaking forward slowly, I have plenty of time to let my Mana regenerate.

There's a wooden door on the right, but locked. Two minutes later, I have it open. There're a few potions, and I find a strange but compellingly pretty gem.

Nice, I'll take it.

Huh. In my inventory, it shows up as a "Stone of Barenziah". Wasn't that the name of a Dunmer empress a while ago?

I take it anyway.

The ruins part was small, though, and a bit further it starts looking like more of a mine again. I find a group of bandits around a campfire and slay them.

I've got no clue where the smoke goes, but the air seems clear. Eh, whatever.

Next place I sneak into has several beds, with the bandits asleep.

Well, that's lucky. I sneak over to them, and they don't wake up. I angle my sword under their chin and drive it straight into the brain. First one, then the second.

They die without even waking up.

Behind a ramshackle wooden separation from the beds, there's a makeshift bar, a few tables with chairs, and a single drunk bandit.

"Hey boy, ya new? Come here, and… and…" His eyes unfocus.

By this point, I'm almost considering death a mercy. I simply walk up to him, and stab him right through the heart with my sword.

"Hey, that's supp… that's not suppo… you can't do that."

I angle my sword downwards, and he slips back onto the floor, stilling in a second.

So much for the glorious heroic slaying of bandits.

There's some food stored here, though, so I resupply.

A full belly is better than heroics, anyway.

The next room has a single larger table, with a few papers on top.

I read one, a letter from a father to a bandit daughter. I read another. Rigel Strong-Arm is a woman? Hmm…

I do a step backwards, but inadvertently walk into a bone chime, which makes a hellish noise.

"Hey, which of you fuckers is that? Trying to break into my treasury again?"

Uh-oh.

Judging by the letters, she should be a Nord. I ready my firebolts, and an enormous woman in steel plate rounds the corner.

"Hey!"

She charges me, raising an axe in one hand, holding a sword in the other.

I cast Firebolts as fast as I can, backpedaling like a madman.

It doesn't stop her from catching me. The axe bites deep into the flesh of my left arm.

Luckily, I still seem able to use it.

I did lose 80 Health in one hit, though. Five more and I'm gone.

I do something stupid, and throw two point-blank fireballs at her. This is enough to throw her off her feed and launch her backwards, but it also knocks me to the floor, hitting the back of my head against the stone.

Fireballs hurt. Less than her axe blows, due to the Fire Resistance I get from the skill. And I have distance again.

She tries to stand up, but I don't need to stand up to fight, and I throw Firebolts as fast as I can.

After around ten of those, she goes down and stays down.

Wow, she was tougher than anyone I've fought before.

I pant. I just lost 80 Health from her hit, and another 142 from my Fireballs. They deal 102 damage each, but my Fire Magic skill also gives me 1 point of fire resistance per level. 30 Fire Resistance has reduced the damage I dealt to myself by over 60.

Note to self: Don't use Fireballs at short range. A 6.5 meter radius is pretty big.

After a minute of catching my breath, I move to the woman I just took down. She smells of burned flesh. It's a sickly sweet smell, and far too much like a nice piece of beef for my comfort.

She has a nice Dwarven War Axe. I think I'll keep my sword, though — it's a side arm anyway, and I think I prefer the option of stabbing. There's also a key. If she carries it on herself, it's probably for something in this cave.

I don't find any treasure, but some of these notes here indicated the presence of a treasure room.

And well, there's only one door I haven't tried.

There's a bit of a tunnel. At the end, it turns right, but has an alcove on the left — containing another of those stone coffins. There's another destroyed draugr in front of it, on the floor. Have the bandits fought these things?

I evade the bone chime, but find the door locked. Before I waste my time picking, I remember the key, and it opens easily.

There's a bit of corridor, and then a makeshift bridge consisting of some wooden logs, over a room I passed earlier. It's almost a five meter fall — unpleasant, but I'd survive it. And have to go the long way around to get back here.

I cross it carefully. The logs are stable, and I make the other side without issue. There's a weird plate on the ground, though. I lower my stance and give it a kick with an outstretched leg.

The air whistles, and several darts fly over my head.

Whoever built this thing, they weren't messing around.

I carefully step around it. I pass another door, evade another pressure plate, walk through a corridor, and dodge two more pressure plates before I open a door into a bigger room. Opening it triggers a falling mace towards me, but I'm quick enough to dodge it.

Right in the middle is an open stone coffin, and it looks like I hit the bandit jackpot. Gold, Gold Ingots, 2 Emeralds, 3 Garnets, (my inventory decides one is "perfect"), what looks like a rather expensive mold for crafting silver candlesticks, one candlestick that looks made from it, an Ebony Ingot, Quicksilver Ingots, and 2 Amethysts.

Not that I can tell those ingots apart by sight, but I seem to know the names of everything in my inventory.

The next door leads into a short corridor, and the one after is barred from my side. I lift it off and arrive in the first room where I entered.

That's convenient. Now… spells to heal myself.

[spoiler=Heal Self] [fieldset= Healing: Heal Self ] Heal yourself for [B]14[/B] every second. Cost: [LIST][*]Mana: [B]10[/B][/LIST][/fieldset][/spoiler]

A bit over fifteen seconds?

That's actually quite cheap, looking at it like this. I regenerate that mana in three or four minutes, and it saves me days of recovery.

Healing Magic increased to skill level 3!

And that's also nice.

I go upstairs and scout out the cottage. It's still empty, aside from the corpse. I take a look outside, but it's in the middle of the night.

I put a chair in front of the door, and balance some kitchenware on top of it. If there are some bandits out that have yet to return, this should alert me before they reach me. They'll know something is off, but at least I won't get surprised.

Then I get into the bandit's bed and sleep until morning.

— A Dragon's Game —

The next day, I reach Falkreath a bit after noon. The gate guard nods at me, but doesn't ask for my business.

Falkreath is a lot less noisy than Riften. When traveling with the caravan, I wasn't really ever allowed to enter the cities, so I never really saw the difference.

However, there's still trade going on, of course. It's the closest city to Pale Pass, which goes into Cyrodiil. It's also on the way to Markarth — going north and then west on the Whiterun plains works, but it's longer.

I pass through and leave Falkreath behind me. I don't need supplies, anyway.

A few hours later, I finally make it to the black pool.

I kneel and dip my hand in. The water is really dark colored and doesn't taste very well. However, the cliffside suddenly looks different.

I investigate it, and there's an opening, directly making a sharp corner. Even after drinking, it's not obvious. However, a few paces inside, there's a black door, emanating a red glow.

Yeah, no matter how well-hidden in the cliff-side, without requiring you to drink the water that really doesn't look drinkable, this would get investigated.

I approach and put my hand on the black handprint.

What? It seems obvious.

I hear a soft voice.

"What is the music of life?"

"Silence, my brother." I answer.

The door opens quietly, and I enter. It closes behind me by itself. However, the corridor ahead is lit in a bright, homely yellow. There's a table with a map of Skyrim on the left, in front of a door. On the right are a couple of stairs down. Astrid told me to go downstairs, so I head that way.

Just when I reach the bottom, a vibrantly green argonian approaches me, in clothing similar to the blacks and dark reds that Astrid wore.

"Welcome, Astrid has informed us you'd come. I am Veezara, the last of the shadowscales."

"Good to meet you, I am J'samma."

"The honor is ours. Please, follow me and I'll introduce you to the others."

He leads me along the dirt. There's a strange semi-circle on the other side of the room that seems to pound in my head as I look at it. To the right of that is a small waterfall. There's also a glass-in-lead window, depicting something skeletal. To the left is a complete smithy. There're a few corridors around that go different directions.

"If you don't mind me asking, what are the shadowscales?"

"Ask any questions. As for the shadowscales, in some argonian tribes there was the tradition that some eggs that hatched under the sign of the shadow would be given to the Dark Brotherhood to raise. These are the shadowscales — raised from the egg to the life of an assassin."

"I can't imagine what that must be like."

Veezara leads me up an incline to the left of the semicircle, and then into a corridor on the right.

"Much like I cannot imagine what your youth is like. But that doesn't make it impossible for us to work together. You'll find that everyone here is completely dissimilar. We don't care where you came from, what you are, be it vampire or werewolf, altmer or orc or imperial or khajiit."

"That sounds lovely."

"Regardless, you caught us during dinner time, so everyone is in here." He opens the door. "Hello everyone, our new Brother has arrived."

Looking around, I see a child, a redguard in traditional clothing, an old man and a female dunmer in robes, and a tall nord.

Well, it's clearly varied.

"Good to meet you all. I'm J'samma."

"Hello!" The child chirps up. She smells… odd. "I'm Babette. I do infiltrations, and I'm an alchemist."

Ah, that's where I know the smell from. I can't quite stop myself from taking a step back.

"Y-You're a vampire."

A sad smile appears on her face, and she sits down. "Yes, I am. I have been eight years old for three hundred years now."

I shake my head. "Sorry, you just took me by surprise. I had a bad run-in with a few vampires a few days ago." I take a deep breath and step forward to her, sticking out my hand. "Nice to meet you."

Her smile turns cheerful. "Nice to meet you too. You'll love it here, I just know."

Next is the Redguard. "I'm Nazir. It's always great to meet new family members. I specialize in fighting with two sabers, and I do some administrative work here on the side. Nice to meet you."

The Dunmer woman. "Hi, I'm Gabriella. I'm an archer who dabbles in lightning magic."

The old man. "Festus Krex. I'm a Master Wizard, and my element of preference is Fire."

And the tall nord. "I'm Arnbjorn. I'm a werewolf, and I prefer to fight that way. Outside of that, I'm a smith, and I maintain the weapons for those who use them."

"It's good to meet you all."

"Come, sit down!" Babette says cheerfully. "Join us for dinner. This is your home too, now." She gestures to a chair next to her.

I join her. No reason not to.

"So, how do you kill your targets?"

"I'll probably mostly use magic, but the trial target I killed with my claws. She was an old woman, so it's not like she needed more than a good scratch at her throat to take her out."

"Bitch deserved it." Babette hissed. I look at her. She shrugs. "I did the initial scouting. The scent of blood all over the place… the only reason I didn't kill her myself was that Astrid wanted to give her to you for a trial run. I hope she gets send to Coldharbour, or the Dreadlands."

I nod along. "Yeah, can't say I'd object to her encountering either of those." Most Daedric Princes had a reputation of not caring much about mortals, but Molag Bal and Mehrunes Dagon were known as cruel and actively malicious, if they could get away with it. Both had at one time or another attempted to invade Tamriel.

During dinner, I can't help but relax. Sure. Festus is a grumpy old man and Arnbjorn is distant, but Nazir and Babette are outright welcoming. Gabriella also chimes in occasionally, even if she still has the aloofness that elves often have.