Chapter 6 Mourning Never Comes

"J'samma?" Astrid asks. Cicero has been around a week, and I've been training myself whenever I can. But I'm getting a bit antsy. A few of the others have had a contract since, and Gabriella is still away currently — but not before I got her to teach me Lightning Magic. I've also used the Alchemy table — under Babette's supervision.

Lightning Magic: Level 7

Alchemy: Level 16

"Yes, Astrid?"

"I've got a mission for you. Ideal for a first job."

"Oh, good. I'd like to stretch my legs."

"The client is in Markarth. Her name is Muiri — and she wants an ex-lover dead. I want you to go to her and arrange the contract. Then carry it out and report back to her."

"That sounds simple enough."

"And try not to get caught. Sure, we can get you out of prison, but it's a hassle. If people get to know your face as a murderer, it really won't help you in the future."

"Yeah, I gotcha." I smile.

"Spend enough time in the Sanctuary, and you forget that the people outside consider murder a bad thing." She chuckles. "You wouldn't be the first."

"Yeah. Now that I think about it, I never asked — but how did you end up an assassin?"

"Oh, that's a short but good story. You see, I had an uncle. Couldn't keep his hands home when I visibly became a woman. So I killed him before he could really do something, and I liked it. Turns out my father got handsy after his brother's death, so I killed him too. It didn't take long before a Speaker of the Brotherhood approached me, with an offer to join up."

"That sounds rather casual."

She shrugs. "Just the way I am, I suppose. I suppose they got all sorts of names to describe people like me. But in the end, the Dark Brotherhood is my true family. And I will protect it till my death."

I look around. "My biological parents never failed me while they drew breath. But I feel home here, and I think I know what you mean."

"I'm glad." She smiles at me. "You need anything for your journey to Markarth?"

"Nope, I've got it all. And I can find what I don't have."

"Then good luck, J'samma, and make us proud."

— A Dragon's Game —

I gather the remaining necessities, and with the goodbyes of the entire Sanctuary, — including Cicero — I leave on my journey towards Markarth. It's right after noon, so I should be able to make respectful distance today.

The total traveling time from Falkreath to Markarth is around four days, but I probably won't make it in that amount of time.

Halfway through the afternoon, I reach the Falkreath Watchtower. For all that its name speaks of order and vigilance, it's actually been abandoned for a long time. According to Astrid, it's now home to a solitary Necromancer. He doesn't bother us; we don't bother him, simple as that.

However, when I pass, a zombie runs towards me — and the crafting materials for this one was a female Khajiit.

And not just a random Khajiit, it's my mother. My own mother's corpse, animated by this… creature in the shape of a human.

I almost burst into flames from my anger. I charge up two fireballs, and throw them towards the puppet that this necromancer made out of my family, burning her as if she was on the pyre that she should have gotten a long time ago.

I rush towards the tower. I will slay the man who dares to disrespect my family like that.

When I enter the tower, I see him standing on top of the stairs, with a skull on his black robes. I toss a Fireball into the wall right behind him, and an Ice Storm at his face. He throws up a ward, which will probably be strong enough to block the Ice Storm.

However, right before it hits him, the Fireball impacts on the wall behind him.

Over six meters is quite the radius, and he is thrown forwards, the fire and the pain breaking his attention from the Ice Storm that now strikes him head-on.

He falls around eight meters, scorched and frostbitten, as I jump him. I pin his arms to the sides with an arm and a leg of my own, and I look into his eyes.

He's still conscious of what's happening, though he's in pain.

So I punch him. I know a good scratch over the throat would kill him, but I don't want it to be that quick. So I punch his stupid head against the stone floor, again and again and again and again.

The floor behind him colors red after the first few punches, but I don't stop until I feel his head being thrown back far too much for his skull to be intact.

Then I piss on him. Everyone may know that this man deserved his death.

Then I walk up in the tower. I don't see any other corpses near, let alone from the people in my caravan.

There is a book named Liminal Bridges in his camp. I don't understand much of it, but I guess I'll keep it around anyway…

This book will increase your Conjuration skill, but you have insufficient skill to use it!

Even if I never learn Conjuration, all it does is sit in my inventory.

And I want to learn Conjuration sometime. After all, no reason to get hurt yourself when you can summon literal daedra to take the hits for you.

That's basically everything I can find though, and I continue my journey.

It's late when I approach Half-Moon mill — just slightly after dinner time.

Half-Moon Mill is owned by a married couple called Hern and Hert. Babette said they were nice, and easy to get along with, and that I could pay them for lodging no trouble, if I gave them her name.

"Greetings traveler. It's a bit late to be on the road, isn't it?" The speaker was a middle-aged nord woman.

I smile. Apparently she was right about how welcoming they were. "Yes, and I'm glad to have reached you. A friend of mine told me I could probably sleep here, for a bit of coin."

She raised her eyebrows. "Ah, we love having guests over. But which friend of ours might that have been?"

"Babette."

"Ah, that explains it. We've got something to talk about, then. Please, come in." She nods her head towards the house.

It is quite an idyllic place to live. There's the house, right next to a small stream. And then the lumber mill on the other side, powered by the stream itself. There're some flowers around, and a path into the forest, probably for logging.

I follow Hert into the house.

"Please, sit down." She leads me to the table. "My Hern is still working the mill. But anyway, what did Babette tell you about us?"

"That I could likely stay here, for some minor payment."

She smiles. "Exactly. Now what she neglected to tell you, is that we're vampires, much like her. Instead of gold, we'd very much appreciate if you were willing to shed a little blood instead. Nothing that won't heal by itself, and in return, you get a bed, dinner, and breakfast."

I feel taken aback a bit, but she doesn't seem surprised by my reaction.

On one hand, it's weird. Very weird. But I can see their reasoning.

"How much blood are we talking about?" I ask hesitantly.

"Oh, nothing much, don't worry. About a cup. Hern and I need little, as we don't really fight. Most vampires you meet out there aren't like us or Babette — they use their powers all willy-nilly, and that makes them hungry fast. They have to feed almost every day. But with a single cup and conserving our strength, we can go an entire week with the two of us."

And even after I give them my blood, if it costs Health, I can just heal it back.

"Ok, you have a deal. You need the blood now?"

"Nah, tomorrow morning is fine. It doesn't stay good for long outside the body, and the more we have inside ourselves, the faster it depletes."

"Ok, I understand."

She gives a broad smile. "Perfect. Now, I love cooking for our guests. What would you like for dinner? I got some great venison…"

— A Dragon's Game —

I stretch as I wake up. It's a bit odd, lodging with two vampires, but the bed is great, and the dinner before that was straight up amazing.

And if they fed from me tonight, I didn't notice, and my health is still at maximum. I don't even have Sanguinare Vampiris. Or I don't know I do.

Hert is already awake and making breakfast. She's somewhat motherly about it, which I never expected from a vampire.

Then again, I never expected a vampire to be as cheerful as Babette, either. Perhaps I should judge vampires a bit less harsh.

Breakfast is just as great as dinner was.

"Now for the blood. Where d'you like me to bleed?"

"Here, this cup." She answers as she hands me a silver goblet. "Do you want to borrow a dagger, or do you have something yourself?"

"A dagger would be nice. I only got a sword, and that's a bit big."

"Here, it's very sharp. We keep this one on hand just for this purpose."

"Okay."

"Please angle your hand down towards the cup, so the blood can drip alongside it. Otherwise it's a bit hard to aim." She grinned. "For some reason most people don't have much experience aiming blood."

Seriously, how could you dislike a woman like this?

I hold my arm downwards and cut my artery. The blood drips past my hand steadily, making a thin line into the cup. It takes around two minutes for me to bleed it full, at which point I hold de wound closed with my other hand, and cast Heal Self until my health is full.

I notice a distinct look of hunger in her eyes, but she keeps it under an iron discipline.

"Ah, you know healing yourself. Otherwise I'd have offered — I'm quite gifted in Restoration."

"Well, enjoy your drink."

"Oh, we will. Hern?" Hert poured half the cup into another, not spilling even a single drop, and holds one out to her husband. Hern isn't as extroverted, but still a polite man.

I can't help but watch if they toast their goblets, and drain them in a single swallow.

I hear a soft moan from both, and then they both drop backwards on their chairs. Are they…fine?

I put my fingerpads on their necks. I learned from Babette that vampires do have a heartbeat, if somewhat more faint than with living people.

That of Hert and Hern is easily found, though. I guess it varies in vampires as well. But I won't want to leave them behind, basically unconscious in their chairs.

So I lift them up and put them in their bed. Vampires don't weigh much.

And then I open the door and leave for a long day of travel. I lock it behind me, and push the key through the crack under the door.

I hope that the rule of law still holds Fort Sungard, and that I can spend the coming night there.

— A Dragon's Game —

Around noon, I saw a Hagraven and a Spriggan fighting, so I took half an hour detour to dodge that fight. I honestly don't want to tangle with either.

I arrive at Ford Sungard around dinner time.

"That's close enough."

I look up and see a breton clothed in furs. Not that many furs.

I guess they make good use of the fact that the Reach isn't as cold as most of Skyrim. Honestly, only Falkreath and the Rift are warmer.

"I'm just a traveler, looking for a place for the night. And well… walls seems like a good idea."

Speech check failed.

"This fort belongs to the Forsworn. Turn around and leave, traveler."

I've heard a few things about the Forsworn. They don't terrorize the road like bandits do, but they're vicious fighters and got plenty of mages. They're bretons, and bretons are considered to have the magic of an elf and the might of a man.

Even if I could probably kill this one, I don't think I could take on all his friends in the fort. So I nod my head and turn around.

With nothing else to do, I return to the road and resume travel.

The sky darkens, and Masser and Secunda rise. I remember most of the tales my mother told me about them.

A memory about a necromancer tries to surface, but I ruthlessly repress it. That's been dealt with.

I smile. The moons always made me feel good.

The sky begins to lighten as I reach Old Hroldan. It's basically an Inn in the middle of nowhere, a remnant of a peaceful time without forsworn, stormcloaks and imperials. There used to be Inn's a day's travel from cities for travelers, and the roads used to be safe enough for them to see use.

These days, only a few of these are still standing.

I open the door.

"A traveler? Come on in. You're early on the road."

"Yes, my apologies. I'd wanted to sleep in for Sungard, but it was occupied by forsworn, so I had to keep going."

"Ah, I can see the problem. Anything I can get you?"

"A meal, please. And do you think I could sleep for a day instead of a night?"

"No problem. It's not like the place is filled up every night."

— A Dragon's Game —

The sky is darkening again as I continue my journey. I expect to reach Markarth sometime after dawn. I feel no ill-effects from the complete wreck that my sleeping schedule has become since Fort Sungard. But sleeping is still great, and I'm grumpy because of it.

The night is dark and boring. Well, I can still see through with my night vision, of course, and I once had to chase a wolf off the road. I think it was a lone animal, though, as it ran away swiftly, instead of putting on a show.

It's about an hour after sunrise when I turn a corner, and see the gates of Markarth in front of me. It's surrounded by steep mountains, and I really wouldn't want to siege this place.

The guards let me through with little more than a nod. The marketplace is busy, but peaceful.

I follow the directions Astrid gave me, and turn left, following a small stream that runs through the middle of the city. It's surprisingly clear for a stream that does that. After a while I pass under an arch, and over a bridge that crosses the stream. I walk for ten minutes horizontally over the slope of the mountain that I know has the Temple of Dibella at its top. Then there's a bridge that crosses what's left of the chasm on my right, which is entirely populated.

Markarth. The city of stone. It's beautiful, if you don't have a fear of heights.

The bridge is broad — on the side of the mountain, it even has a smithy where a female orc is currently scolding her apprentice.

I pass by, and after a few more twists and turns, I find the apothecary.

It seems almost dark inside, though it's actually pretty well lit. I guess that's because Markarth looks upon the east, where the sun is currently rising and illuminating the entire city.

"Welcome to the Hag's Cure, dearie. I'm Bothela." The voice of the woman who runs the place is a bit creaky. "Anything I can get you?"

"Actually, I'm looking for Muiri."

She sighs. "Another suitor?"

"Actually, no. Here for business."

"Fine. MUIRI!"

"Coming!"

A breton girl comes in from the backroom. She's fairly short, with her brown hair kept back from her face with a ponytail. Her face is beautiful, delicate.

A quick glance slightly down from it shows that there's nothing to complain about either.

"What's up, Bothela?" Her voice is gentle.

"Someone here specially for you. Another date?"

She looks at me with a bit of confusion.

"No." I answer, "As I told Bothela, business. Do you have somewhere we can speak privately?"

She shrugs. "Sure. Over here."

I follow her to a small room.

"So what's this business?"

"The Dark Brotherhood has come, Muiri."

"The Dark Brotherh… Oh. Oh! I… my goodness, you're really here! The Black Sacrament. It actually worked?"

"Obviously. Now tell me what you need."

Affection with Muiri has increased by 20 for making a good first impression.

"What I need is for Alain Dufont to die! I want him hunted down and murdered like the dog he is!"

"That can be done. What can you share about him that would help us find him and take him down?"

"I obviously didn't know when I dated him, but he leads a group of cutthroats. Bandits. They operate out of Raldbthar, near Windhelm."

"That doesn't sound to difficult."

"Yes. And…" She licks her lips. "Alain is more important, but I also want Nilsine Shatter-Shield to die. She lives in Windhelm, she's the daughter of one of the wealthier families."

"I'm going to need a bit more background information on that. An ex-lover who turned out to be a bandit, I can understand why you want him dead. But this Nilsine…?"

She breathes in and out deeply. "We grew up together. Me, Nilsine, and her sister Friga. We were inseparable. Around the time I met Alain, Friga was murdered. Understandably, they were heartbroken. Around that time, Alain showed his true colors. I'd introduced him to the Shatter-Shields before, and he used my trust to break into their house, robbing it of all valuables. But Nilsine… she and Tova, her mother, cast me out. I was still heartbroken from Friga myself, but they betrayed me! I was like a daughter and sister to them! They fucking threw me out of the city in mid-winter, with nothing but the clothes on my back." Tears start running down her cheeks.

I reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. "It will be done."

She nodded. "When Nilsine is dead, maybe then Tova'll see that I was just as much a daughter as the others. And if not, may she drown in her own tears."

"Anything else?"

"Yes, I… thought about killing them myself. Even made a potion for it. Here." She hands me a bottle.

"It's a lotus extract poison. It works both when ingested or when brought inside a wound."

"I'll ensure it will be used."

She gives a smile which looks vulnerable with the tear tracks still on her cheeks. "Thanks. And good luck."

I stand up and leave the shop.

Affection with Muiri has increased by 10 (30) for comforting her.

She's a pretty girl, but I'm not sure I want to get entangled deeper than I am. After all, she hired the Dark Brotherhood to go after someone who wronged her…

— A Dragon's Game —

As for how I will kill Nilsine… I'll probably have to do it somewhere crowded in a city. Let's have a look…

Pickpocketing - Level 23
Pickpocketing is the art of taking what you want be it from a table, your own pockets, someone else's pockets or a chest, without anyone noticing.

*Attributes per level
- Stealth: Tactile: 1.0

*Perks Granted
- 80: Misdirection
- 100: Perfect Touch

*Abilities Granted
- 0: Hide Movement
- 10: Pickpocket
- 30: Poisoner
- 40: Secretly Access Container
- 50: Unseen Weapon

Ability: Poisoner
When pickpocketing, you can attempt to place a poison on the target. If successful, it will take effect immediately.

That sounds like a good strategy. I do need 7 more levels of Pickpocket, however.

Chameleon gives me 14 Stealth: Visual while casting, which is a nice boost on my current level of 90. I know that it won't bring true invisibility, but it should get close enough for my purposes.

I head down to the marketplace, and start picking pockets. I take what money they have, and then put back a single coin, since that helps me level it up faster.

Pickpocketing has increased to level 30!

And it seems that this levels a lot faster than it did when practicing in the thieves' guild. Perhaps much like combat levels my magic a lot faster than repeatedly casting Heat and Chill while traveling.

I gave that up after I got no increase for an entire day.

And this took me only four hours!

Anyway, I eat in the Silver-Blood Inn, and leave the city. I can still travel half a day. I should make it to the intersection between Markarth, Old Hroldan, and Kolskeggr Mine.

— A Dragon's Game —

The sky darkens as I reach my chosen camping spot. Still, this road is well-traveled, and probably safe.

It's ironic that the hold where a significant part is in open rebellion, is also the one with the least bandits. Arguably the safest, as long as you don't bear the coat of arms of Markarth.

That tends to attract the attention of the forsworn.

Well, one out of two open rebellions, anyway. Since the Jarl of Windhelm reportedly shouted the High King to death, there's been another one going on, which hasn't been ignored.

But I've got quite a lot of distance to cover. Windhelm is on the other end of Skyrim. Two days to Fort Sungard, then walk another night and day to reach Whiterun. From there, there's really three roads I can take. I can travel north of Shearpoint. It's the coldest route, and two days after Whiterun, I'll be able to sleep in Nightgate Inn before traveling the last leg towards Windhelm. I can also cross south, over the same road I took when those bandits had imprisoned me. It feels like a lifetime ago. Valtheim Towers is probably still run by bandits, though.

Or I could attempt to pick a route cross-country, but Shearpoint has some really steep cliffs on the east side, so I can't be certain I can find a path down.

Taking a closer look, there are two dwarven ruins hugging Shearpoint. One is Irkhgthand, the other is Raldbthar. And the one containing my assassination target seems to have stairs down the slope.

One way to get there is to climb the mountain near Whiterun. That's doable, but I don't know what lives there.

However, Valtheim Towers crosses the White River around the right point, and has a guaranteed path upwards.

Besides, I owe those bandits some attention. I can't quite detour to Embershard to wipe out that group, but Valtheim Towers is on the way. Or more accurately, in my way.

Anyway, it'll take me a few ways to get there. I put down my bedroll and go to sleep.

The next days are monotonous. Walk, eat, walk, sleep, walk, chase away a curious sabercat, walk, sleep, walk, walk through the night, and walk.

After four days of travel, I finally arrive in Whiterun. It's quite a big city, and I'm really not interested in exploring it, as it's already late. A quick question to a guard sends me to The Bannered Mare, the Inn at the city market, and according to the guard, the only reputable one. I'm served a meal by a pretty redguard waitress, and I hire a room for sleep.

The next morning I leave for Valtheim.

I ensure I got everything ready. Fireball deals 102 damage for 66 Mana, Firebolt 46 for 14. That means I need to hit three people to be more efficient. Ice Spike and Ice Storm deal 41 and 99 damage for 15 and 67 Mana, respectively.

Less efficient, but the slowing effect could help me.

I don't have any Lightning spells, yet. Well, not ones I could use in combat. But I have 460 Mana and 44 regeneration, so I can deal if they don't rush me too much.

But if they do, then Fireball becomes a really useful spell.

I kill the bandit guarding the slope under White River Watch. This was where my escort paid for passage last time. It was one Ironhand holed up here?

Whatever, I don't have time. Perhaps the dead bandit will decrease morale around here.

I think it's kind of odd that the Jarls never slap down these bandit infestations. Their guards should easily outnumber these camps.

The skies darken, and it's night by the time I reach Valtheim. I head into the bushes on the left side, keeping just above the slope down towards the White River, which gets steep around here.

Reaching the base, approach the one guard. It's a redguard woman, just warming her hands by the fire. I sneak up from behind her. I grab her, one hand on her mouth, and with the other I claw over her throat.

The scent of blood immediately strongly enters my nose. I bend backwards to lift her in the air a bit, so she can't make noise when she bleeds out. She tries to grab back, but can't find leverage. Neither her elbows nor her attempts to punch my face over her shoulder have any real force behind them. After what feels like half an hour but can't have been more than a minute, I drop her still body to the ground.

I sneak into the tower behind her. There's nobody right here, but there's a chest on the right.

It's hard to make out in the dark, even for me, but it seems there's a trap attached to it. When the lid is opened, a thin wire breaks, and a large spiked ball will drop down from behind.

I can just reach the ball if I stand on my toes, and cut the wire near the ball, then gently lower it.

Then I lockpick the chest. There's around two thousand gold in here, which has to have been made by extorting travelers.

It's mine now, though.

I sneak up, and the next doorway takes me on a wooden walkway. It ends on the bridge. It is slim and seems impossibly long for stone to do, but it's an ancient construction. Who knows how they made it this strong. Someone's walking on it, but luckily away from me.

I peer carefully around the corner, and see three bandits playing cards.

Fireballs make a lot of noise. Perhaps an Ice Storm would be more suitable?

Wait, no. There are two nords there. Cold damage is practically useless.

Well, Fireballs it is. I charge up two, and toss them at the players' table.

It makes a tremendous racket, of course. However, the three also don't get up.

I dash towards the stairs. I don't want to be flanked, so I have to secure this tower before the guy on the bridge gets here.

There is a guy with a bow up there just now taking aim at me. He stands on the wooden platform that is everything above me. I shoot a Firebolt.

He dodges it, but it disrupts his aim. As he tries to aim for me again, the second one hits squarely in his chest. I follow it up with four more in the next two seconds, until the last one tosses him off the tower.

I hear a sickening crack as his back connects with the edge of the stone bridge crossing the White River, before he tumbles further down.

Which leaves me with my next problem.

A Nord Warrior in heavy armor with sword and shield rushing towards me, with murder in his eyes.

I grab a sword from my inventory, and jump sidewards off the stairs.

He tries to strike me, but I'd anticipated that, and slam his sword aside with my own.

I throw a Fireball at the wall beside him, which unbalances him to fall from the stairs at my feet. I step onto his sword, so he can't pick it up, and start casting Firebolt over and over until he stops moving.

That was… close.

I walk towards the doorway and spy the other side of the bridge. Nothing that I can see that looks dangerous.

I sneak over the bridge, but suddenly feel as if I'm punched in the chest. I look down and see an arrow shaft.

Ow.

I look up again and see the archer.

Another Khajiit, which is probably the only reason he could see me in the dark. I shoot a Firebolt at him, and he looses his arrow and steps inside again, behind shelter.

Luckily, he misses this time, but I'm still 170 health short. Not fun. I'm also low on mana, so I can't just heal it. Not while that mana might make the difference between being stabbed again or not.

I wait a second, and throw a Fireball. In flight, they look alike.

He dives behind his cover when he sees it coming, but the hiss of pain tells me I succeeded.

Meanwhile, I'm sprinting over the bridge to the other side. I don't want to risk this taking too long. Who knows who can see what's happening, and I don't want any friends of these bandits to get any bright ideas about helping out.

I don't see the Khajiit appear again, but when I turn the corner into this tower, I can see why.

I got lucky, and my Fireball threw this bandit down the stairs. His legs look broken, but he has his bow out, and is trying to aim for me again.

A quick Firebolt breaks his bowstring, causing it to snap back. His arms pulls back as well from the sudden lack of opposing force.

Before he can recover, I stab him in the unprotected neck with my sword.

I carefully go up further in the tower, but I encounter no other bandits. There's something of a room on top of this one, including a book named The Black Arrow, v2. It's a short but funny tale about an impossible feat of marksmanship.

This book would increase your Archery, but you don't have that skill!

…Or at least, I would think it's impossible.

I walk down the stairs again, and leave the tower. There should be a path up the slope here… ah, there on the right.

I should actually be very close to Raldbthar here. Just follow the rocks on the right, and don't go down the slope.

Should I sleep, or just continue on? The night is still young…

But I really want to get this done. Well, another night without sleep, I suppose. I take the time to heal myself up.

Your Healing skill has reached level 7!

Always nice.

— A Dragon's Game —

It's actually a decent walk to Raldbthar. The path is rocky, and it's high enough that there's snow everywhere.

My boots are closed and good, so I get to keep my feet warm, and that's the most important thing now.

It's several hours later that I turn a corner around the slope, and I can see Windhelm in the distance. It's still quite a while off, but it feels a lot closer now.

After that view, it's only half an hour, and slightly down the slope, that I see the first marks of Dwemer architecture.

However, the mechanisms here are broken. Because of course they are.

I gently go further down the slope. It's actually quite steep here, but the worst parts have stone stairs in the dwemer style.

And so I discover their sentry. Apparently they weren't thinking about someone approaching from upstairs.

This isn't the lazy type of bandit I'm used to, though. While he's close to the fire to enjoy its warmth, he's looking away from it, which helps your night vision a lot.

I silently approach him, and see that he's alone on duty. That's good, at least. And it looks like another Khajiit… Fire it is. I launch a small barricade of Firebolts and take him down because he can't aim his bow well while getting burned.

I sneak towards the entrance and open the door carefully. It opens silently.

Inside is another bandit, this one an orc sleeping on a bedroll.

I might be able to just sneak past and kill only the target. That would be professional.

However, I won't turn down the opportunity to also improve the world while I'm at it, so I slit the orc's throat before he wakes up enough to know what's happening.

He dies without making a sound.

In front of me is what looks like… a permanently activated flame trap from the ruin?

Regardless, the bandits found a use for it, and are using it to spit-roast a skeever. I almost salivate at the thought.

Calm down J'samma, eyes on target. You can eat when the bandits are dead.

I talk myself into backing off, for now. But this skeever is going into my inventory when we get out of here.

The only path is to the left.

There's a big room, with space on both sides. I have trouble seeing how many bandits there are, but with the aid of my nose and a minute, I can see one through the doorway on the other side of the room, with another to the right of me. Since he's looking somewhere in the vague direction of that doorway, he'll have to go first. I sneak to the side and take him down from behind, using my claws to slash open his neck again.

Then I sneak through the doorway. The bandit is a female bosmer, eating. I kill her like I did the previous one.

I go through the only doorway that doesn't just go into another room, and follow the corridor. Voices drift my way.

"Boss! Tell us again how you got that warhammer. It's a great tale."

"Fine, if you want it that much. So I was staking out Windhelm. And then there's this small breton girl. So I figure, might be a good lay, and I charm the girl's pants off. It required a few castings of Calm, but she got used to me soon enough. Then she invited me into the home of her friends, who owned this warhammer. So I pocketed a key one day. And then at night, me and a few of the boys went in, stole everything worth something, and got out of there."

"Hah! Can't believe they're so easy to manipulate." A few of the bandits laugh.

"They are, if you look like me instead of like you. Nobody'd trust you." The laughing is much louder this time, though the previous speaker grumbles a bit. Then the "boss", who by his tale seems to be the Alain Dufont I was hired to kill, continues. "Later, I even heard the family had the girl I fucked banished from the city. Cracks me up every time."

There's four bandits total. And I can't help but make this cinematic. I switch my outfit for the Dark Brotherhood leathers I have, and step in and announce myself.

"The wrath of a woman scorned… is intense enough to hire the Dark Brotherhood to kill you." I grin as the group of bandits falls silent. "Which brings me to why I'm here." I raise my hands, fingers curved and Fireballs springing to life between them.

"Die, Alain Dufont." I throw the Fireballs, and they're too surprised to even dodge. Only two survive the dual explosion. One is an orc, who goes down to a double Firebolt to the chest. The other is Alain himself, who draws a war hammer from his back. I have to admit, it looks like a quality weapon. Sadly for him, it's a melee weapon, I'm a mage, and there's distance between us.

"Muiri says hi." I shoot two Ice Spikes, piercing his unarmored torso. He looks down at them, surprised, as he drops the warhammer to the ground, grabbing the Ice Spikes as if pulling them out would help. He falls to his knees, disbelief on his face.

I walk up to him and grab Aegisbane.

Aegisbane
Once the sigil of house Shatter-Shield, this powerful warhammer deals frost damage to all struck.
- Smashes your enemy for 76 Blunt damage.
- This frost enchanted weapon will do 60 frost damage and slow the opponent for 6 seconds.

This will do. I lift it above my head, and strike Alain in the head, crushing his skull.

You have gained a new skill: Blunt Proficiency (level 1)

Besides, this is far more effective than that sword I had. I think I'll keep this hammer.

Looking around, I can see a modest separation that would stop exactly nobody, and a door behind that.

I could go deeper, but I don't want to fight all sorts of mechanical nightmares the dwemer would have running around here. I don't know for how far the bandits cleared this ruin, but I bet they haven't quite gone all the way.

I'm not risking it. Not even with my shiny new warhammer.

I travel back up to the surface. Time to go to Windhelm. Dawn should be breaking in a few hours, and if I leave now, I should be able to reach Windhelm before dusk.

— A Dragon's Game —

After a day of walking without anything interesting happening, I enter Windhelm. The city even feels cold to me. The population is also somewhat unfriendly. I'm not barred entrance like the Khajiit caravan I see camping behind the stables, but I'm not welcomed either.

Best to get the atmosphere of the city first, so I head to Candlehearth Hall, the Inn close to the gate.

It's also the biggest Inn, having an entire floor just as common room, and the basement for a series of rooms.

When I find a table, I'm approached by a barmaid with a very low-cut dress.

"Hey there, handsome. Anything I can get you?" she asks with a sultry voice.

"Yes, I'd like dinner." I respond, slightly slower than I'd want. "Do you have a good roast?"

"Of course, something to drink?"

"Just water. And I have a few questions about the city, if you don't mind…?"

She giggles slightly. "Sure, I'll be back with your meal in a bit, then I got time."

Half an hour later, she returns to my table with my dinner, and sits down opposite me seductively.

"So handsome, what d'you want to know?"

"I haven't been in Windhelm since forever." I answer, flirting back. "So beautiful, what's the word in town?"

She grins at my response, drawling out her first word. "Weeeellll… there's this terrible rumor about a serial killer called 'The Butcher'."

"Oh? Whose killed?"

"Several girls, over a long time. At least, they claim. There's only been one corpse. I think the other two just eloped."

Hm, Nilsine is also a young women. Perhaps I could frame this 'Butcher' for the kill. Something to investigate. "Oh? You don't seem that scared, being a young woman yourself."

She shrugs, which does interesting things to her sizeable chest. "I think it's just the elderly being bored an making up tales. The primary concerned citizen is Viola Giordano, who is sixty years old but thinks she's thirty, and had nothing better to do than exaggerate stories. Some of us have to work, you know."

"Oh, I know that very well. Anything else?"

"The amount of robberies seems to increase. It's not the thieves' guild — victims have been found dead. Not the same as the butcher, but just slit throats without desecrating the body. That's all news, though."

"Thank you anyway. How much for the meal?"

"20 gold."

I shove her 30. "The rest is for the chat, my beautiful lady."

"Thank you. I'm Suzanna." She lowers her voice to a throaty whisper, "and some call me the Wicked."

"I can't imagine why." I answer innocently with a completely flat voice.

"Goodbye, handsome. Talk to you later." She stands up and leaves.

Affection with Suzanna the Wicked increased by 30 for playing along with the flirting while keeping your hands at home. (20 total.)

Hm, good decision to hold a bit of distance while still flirting back. Although I'm slightly surprised that she flirted a bit despite having -10 base affection.

Well, perhaps I can increase it some more next time.

Nevertheless, I think I can't frame the butcher. Apparently he's got a specific method of what he does to his victims, which I can't replicate. So it's back to plan A. And I still have to figure out who Nelsine is, what she looks like…

— A Dragon's Game —

I decide to go for a stake-out. As I casually walk through the richer parts of Windhelm, I keep my ears open, occasionally asking for directions to this or that. Eventually, I find a woman fancying herself a bit of a tour guide, and some interest in the "most powerful families of Windhelm" has her point out all their houses, some of which could be called manors. One of these is House Shatter-Shield. After spending another half hour with her admiring the city, I excuse myself, and go back to House Shatter-Shield. I spy a few spots I can overlook it from, if I come under the cover of the dark.

Between minor Illusion magic and my black fur, I can be practically invisible. I spend the last few hours of daylight walking through the crowds, practicing my pickpocket skills, which I'm getting very good at, if I may say so myself. I have to bail out a few times with no gains, but such is life.

When twilight falls, I practice with Chameleon a bit. It helps to level up the magic, and to increase my sneaking skills.

Your Illusion skill has leveled up by 4 (12)!

Your Sneak skill has increased by 1 (46)!

Your Pickpocket skill has increased by 3 (33)!

I also learned the Muffle spell, which does the same for sounds that Chameleon does for sight. 15 isn't that much — 7.5 levels Sneak for visual and 10 levels Sneak for auditory — but all bits help. And once I sit still, no more reason to use Muffle.

And when I sit still, well, eyes are designed to spot movement.

It turns out that in a big, walled city, the most in-your-face sign of wealth is an extensive garden where at least four families could have lived in the safety of the walls.

This means that the house opposite that of the Shatter-Shields — ironically enough, Viola Giordani's — has plenty of hiding places that nobody from the roads will see. I climb a tree in her garden, and hidden among the foliage, I get a clear view of the front door of House Shatter-Shield.

There's no way I can't bear with the boredom of just a single night, and I don't want to waste a day with oversleeping when I don't truly need the sleep.

— A Dragon's Game —

Me and my stupid mouth. When you're just waiting for the night to pass, it is everlasting.

Since nobody ever would have noticed me without my Illusion spells, I can't level Illusion with any kind of speed either.

But after what feels like a week of staying awake up in that tree while waiting, the first rays of dawn come over the inner wall behind me.

Still takes that bitch Nilsine like two hours to wake her ass up and get out of the house. I don't know why I was expecting her to wear commoner's clothing, but she's rich, and the entire world may know. She wears a high-quality quilted coat, long enough I can only just see the embroidered skirts under the bottom.

By this point, I'm ready to kill her just for the discomfort.

Having remembered her face, I climb down the tree, and sneak onto the road without drawing attention.

I continuously cast Muffle, because reducing my sounds doesn't draw as much attention as being partially see-through, so I can use it to level Illusion without risking being caught.

Nilsine got a few hundred meters on me, though. But I'm not in a hurry. I follow her onto the marketplace and move around, carefully keeping an eye over the marketplace and Nilsine. I work my way over to her, and pickpocket her.

I can't quite resist taking the three hundred gold she's brought to the market. But then I come to the most important activity.

Poisoner
When pickpocketing, you can attempt to place a poison on the target. If successful, it will take effect immediately.

*Cost
- 20 Stamina

I place the Lotus Poison I received from Muiri on Nilsine and continue walking.

It should take effect after some fifteen seconds, so I turn around and move to another stall, looking at the vegetables that one lady is selling.

While I'm inspecting a cabbage that actually looks pretty good, I hear a scream behind me, and a thud. I put the cabbage back and join the crowd of people rapidly assembling.

Nilsine is in the center, her eyes rolled upwards, and foam coming out of her mouth. Green-ish foam.

Wow, that's one nasty poison.

Someone arrives from the nearby apothecary, The White Phial, with a potion to purge poisons and restore health, but the minute it took was too long. With no skilled Restoration mages present right here and right now, Nilsine dies.

"So unfortunate." The old lady next to me mumbles.

"Not a nice way to go." I reply.

In two more minutes, the guards arrive, and the crowd disperses me along with them. I head to Candlehearth Hall to buy some food for on the road, earn a wink and a smile from Suzanna the Wicked, and leave the city.

— A Dragon's Game —

I take the other route back, over Nightgate Inn. I still have to travel south for Whiterun, because there's just no good road this far North to Markarth. Not unless I'd like to almost visit Dawnstar, Dragon Bridge, and Rorikstead, in that order. It'd take me like, 2 days more.

Aside from it being cold for the first two days of my travel, the road isn't that bad. I pass by Loreius Farm, where we retrieved Cicero around… two weeks ago? It feels like years. Then again, this is by far my largest job since joining the Brotherhood.

When not looking for bandits to kill, traveling is a lot less boring, and I find Markarth without any issues that weren't chased off by a bit of noise.

I close the door behind me as I enter The Hag's Cure, and ask Bothela for Muiri again. She leads me to a private room.

"And?"

"It's done." I say. "Want details?"

She hesitates for a moment. "Please."

"I went to the dwarven ruins of Raldbthar first. I overheard Alain Dufont bragging about how he'd come into the possession of this."

I take out Aegisbane and put it on the table. Her eyes widen. "Aegisbane!"

"I killed all bandits that stood in the way of me finding him. I downed him with a few spells and smashed his skull to bits with this weapon." I grin at the pretty breton. "But not before I told him hi from you."

10 Affection with Muiri for rubbing it in while killing Alain Dufont (40).

"Thank you." She answers. "That bastard got exactly what he deserved."

"You're welcome. And I admit I quite liked showing a bit of theatrics when I was there."

I see her smile at that.

"I didn't delve deeper into the dwarven ruins, though, even if there were more bandits down there. I'm not sure how effective I would be against their mechanical monstrosities, so I didn't risk it."

She nods.

"Then I went to Windhelm. I figured out who Nilsine was, and then during a marketplace visit, I poisoned her."

"Yeah, about that." Muiri licks her lips. "I've heard about her death being caused by Lotus Extract, so I know you used what I brewed. But they couldn't find how you got it to enter her bloodstream without a wound. Could you tell me how you did that?"

Whoops. I should pay better attention. "Sorry, trade secret."

She shrugs. "Eh, that's fine, I suppose. Just means I can meet you again when I need someone dead."

I smirk and give a seated bow. "At your service."

30 Affection with Muiri for accomplishing everything she wanted you to do (70).

"Well then, here's the gold. Five-thousand, as promised. And…" She pulls a silver ring off her finger. "And I want you to have this. It's enchanted to increase the potency of potions you brew."

Muiri's Ring
Wearing Muiri's ring gives your potions more potency and lets you learn Alchemy faster.

*Attributes
- Alchemical Potency: 30

That's…. pretty powerful.

"That is a royal gift."

"It's a token of my gratitude…" she blushes, "and affection."

I accept it. "And with that, it's value has multiplied. Thank you."

"No, thank you. Thanks to you, I can finally put my old life behind me, and live free of the past."

I smile at her. 70 Affection should be plenty for this, right? "Then how about we celebrate it with a drink?"

"It would be my pleasure."

— A Dragon's Game —

We're having a great time in the Silver-Blood Inn. She's telling me about alchemy and more about her youth, while I tell her about growing up in a caravan. Then another man comes along.

"Ah, having a great time, I see. I approve, I approve. Here, let me make your time even better. I'm Sam Guevenne, and this… is amazing stuff. How about a little contest? I drink one, then you. If I cannot drink anymore, you win a little trinket of mine, and if you fail to kiss your lovely lady here, then I win!" He bends over close "And if I think you just straight up earned it, you also win and get my staff. That's the trinket."

I look at Muiri, see her acceptance, and turn to the stranger. "Sure, why not?"

He takes a mug, and drinks. "Ah, that hit the spot. How about you?"

I take my own and drink. It's herby, somewhat bitter, and tastes like the best stuff I even drank.

It's also pretty strong. I bend over to Muiri, who offers her cheek, and give her a sloppy kiss on it, causing her to giggle and lean against me. I look at the stranger who is just raising his second mug.

Wow, I feel more than a little bit light-headed now…