Just a day later, Astrid approached Sable as she was sitting at the table in a cave used as a dining area in the large complex of caves the Dark Brotherhood called home. Gabriella and Babette had joined her for her evening meal.
"I have a contract for you, my little white deathbell." She stated. "This will be your first major contract." The newest member of the Family beamed at hearing she was being entrusted with an important assignment. "An apothecary's assistant name Muiri has performed the Black Sacrament. You are to go Markarth and discuss the contract with her. Report back when the contract is done."
"Are there any special rules I need to take into account for this contract?"
Astrid turned a puzzled look on her newest sister for a moment before realizing what might be the cause of such a strange question.
"Thieves guild habits hard to let go of, perhaps?" She answered. "Just don't get killed, sister. I suspect we just wouldn't be the same without you."
There was a matter of fact quality to her voice that Sable found interesting. It didn't bother her, she realized, but interesting. She wondered how many Astrid had sent on their first contracts that never came back. She also vowed to never ask a stupid question again. To the Void with the thieves and their silly rules.
"How unusual." Gabriella stated a moment after their mistress had left the room.
"What do you mean?" Sable asked.
"Astrid usually visits those wishing to hire us herself and sets up the contracts and their details and then returns and passes them on to us." The dunmer replied. "It's exceedingly rare for her to opt for one of us to meet the contract, let alone that person be our newest member."
Oddly enough there didn't seem to be any trace of jealousy in the dark elf's voice.
"Then why would she send me?" Sable asked, suddenly unsure of what earlier seemed a moment to look upon with pride. Was Astrid so upset about the game that she was trying to get her in some kind of trouble or even killed by sending her into a trap? If that was the case, then the guild's matron was a darn good actress.
"She must trust in you and your abilities a great deal," Gabriella answered and, as if reading her thoughts, added, "I don't think she means you harm. I don't think you've angered her in any lasting way."
"What makes you so sure?"
"The nickname for one." The dunmer answered reassuringly. "She spoke it as a term of endearment. There was no malice in her voice that I heard. I think you really impressed her when you stuck the flower in her hair. Perhaps this is her way of showing you that by trusting you to meet with a contract yourself."
The story of Sable's besting of Astrid at the game had spread quickly and she was still basking in the glory of it a day later.
"It's great, isn't it!" Babette chimed in. "Our white deathbell is growing up. Perhaps someday, all of Skyrim will speak of the White Deathbell in hushed and fearful tones."
Laughter broke out among the three women.
"Yes, and mothers will use the legend to scare their children into behaving," Gabriella added.
It was then, that Sable had an idea. The Legend of the White Deathbell sounded intriguing. She had seen the power legends could hold over people, especially once the dragons had returned. Could she really exert that much influence and sway over a whole nation? The laughter had stopped now that Babette and Gabriella had seen the look on her face.
"Babette," the newly christened White Deathbell turned to the child looking vampire, "Could I persuade you to help me with an experiment in horticulture?"
A smile drew across the face of the guild's resident green thumb. "Sounds like that devious mind of yours has thought of something positively wonderful. Of course, I'll help!"
Sable immediately got up from the table, turned and made for the alchemy room. Babette, got up and chased after her.
Once in the cave, her pale blue-silver eyes swept her surroundings. The room was empty with the exception of Lis, Gabriella's frostbite spider that had made her nest in the lower section of the chamber. Sable was still trying to get used to the large spider. She'd had to defend herself from frostbite spiders many times and though Lis had never made an aggressive gesture towards her and even seemed quite domesticated, the sight was still a bit disconcerting to her. She wondered if her initial instinct to grab out a dagger would ever subside. She had to push it from her mind though. She had called Babette in here for something very important.
"So, little sister," Babette's child voice rang out from behind her, "what kind of concoction has your pretty head dreamed up?"
"I'm not looking to develop a potion or poison, Babette." Sable answered. "But since you're a master alchemist, I figured you would be the person to tell me whether or not what I want to do is even possible."
The forever child looked intrigued but didn't respond other than to lift an eyebrow in a look of curiosity.
"Babette, how difficult is it to change a flower?"
"Change a flower into what?" the vampire asked.
"To change its appearance." Sable clarified. "How hard is it to change a flower's color? To change the shade of its petals."
"That depends. If you're looking to make it a darker color, we could simply dye it."
Sable took a step over to one of the many planters and plucked the head from the stem of a deathbell and held it up for Babette. Understanding flooded the eldest assassin's eyes.
"You want to create a white deathbell?" Babette asked with wonder. "It would take cross pollinating the plants for generations. If it's even possible. Why would you want to do this?"
"Power!" The curvy, white haired assassin answered empathically, but almost breathlessly.
"What do you mean?" the vampire questioned with a large dose of caution in her voice.
"You and Gabriella said it earlier, the Legend of the White Deathbell. A name to be feared throughout all of Skyrim."
"We were only joking around, Sable. Just a bit of fun to celebrate your first major contract and to inspire what you may become, a master assassin."
"It doesn't matter that it was meant in fun." The excited Nord woman leaned forward, now holding the small bit of stem in both hands in front of her. "The words were an inspiration. To hold that kind of power over an entire nation. To be a legend. How many times does one have that chance? I must try."
Babette was astonished. The idea her friend had was so ambitious, it perhaps bordered on insanity. It was one thing for a person to become a legend many years after they passed, but to attempt to make oneself into a legend was almost grandiose to the point of delusion. Still it intrigued her; she wanted to see if her new sister could indeed force herself as a legend onto an unsuspecting Skyrim. She knew then that she was a full believer in the White Deathbell.
"Of course I will help you in this, I'm not just sure that what you're asking can even be done."
"Please try, Babette." Sable pleaded. "I bet you've forgotten more about plants and alchemy than I will ever know. If anyone can do this, I'm sure it's you."
Babette smiled. "You can stop trying to butter me up now. You're not very good at it anyway." She stuck her tongue out at her. "Of course I will help you, sister."
Markarth had provided a bit of excitement. While the journey there was rather uneventful and boring, she must have walked through the city gates at just the right time. A moment after she entered the city, a man standing at one of the many open market stalls just inside the city pulled out a dagger and plunged it into the back of a woman standing near him shouting something about glory and the Forsworn. The woman fell to the ground bleeding profusely, immediately followed by screams which alerted two of the city guards that began running over to see what the commotion was.
The man turned and saw Sable and charged straight for her. She had worn a rather plain blue dress in order to avoid attracting attention to herself and he apparently thought of her as an easy escape route. As soon as he began his run at her, the fair-skinned assassin subtly drew a dagger of her own.
Two steps away, the man reversed his grip on his dagger and drew his right arm back in what was certain to be the precursor to a wild attack. She reversed her grip as well so that the blade ran along her forearm. It appeared that he hadn't noticed that this innocent looking woman was armed as well. Another step and he swung his arm in a high arc, trying to slash at her neck or chest.
Sable easy ducked his arm, but kept her weight on her left foot using it to pivot around his right hip. As she completed her circle around her now surprised attacker, she brought her right arm up, swinging her hand out so the blade was now perpendicular to her arm. There was a dull thud as the dagger slammed into the man's back up to the hilt. The man fell dead instantly, his spine severed from the disguised assassin's counterstrike.
The guards ran over and Sable now found herself with a crowd of both guards and onlookers. So much for remaining inconspicuous. One of the guard's statements confirmed her frustration.
"Well, you certainly know how to handle yourself, don't you?" The guard blurted out obviously astonished by what he had seen. "Still, my thanks for not letting that scum escape. If you don't mind, we'll need to ask you some questions about what happened."
Sable knew better than to refuse the request. The guard was not asking, but rather stating what he was expecting of her. She needed to meet with her contract, Muiri, and that meant she would have to indulge the idiot's "investigation" and endure a delay.
She answered the guards' questions honestly, but the delay kept her until the sun was beginning to set. Although she had arrived to the city late in the afternoon, it still annoyed the white-haired assassin that she was setback and would have to wait until the next day to make contact with the apothecary's assistant. After explaining yet again that she hadn't seen much; only that the lunatic had murdered the woman before coming at her and that she had simply defended herself, Sable was finally allowed to leave and found the Silver-Blood Inn.
She purchased a room and a meal and went to a corner of the main hall to eat. She found that the story of her dropping the Forsworn fanatic was already the exciting topic of the day. As she overheard one recounting of how she had cut the man's head off, it surprised her how quickly the exaggerating had started. She rose and went to her room to rest before moving on to her true reason for coming to Markarth in the morning.
A brief conversation with the inn keeper the next morning pointed Sable to The Hag's Cure, the only apothecary in Markarth. She chose to fit her dress over her leather armor provided to her by the Dark Brotherhood as best she could. The dress strained a bit in places and looked odd with small peeks black and red leather, but otherwise it was serviceable.
The fair-skinned assassin made her way through the town and up several flights of stairs to get to the higher terraces of the city until she came to a section of the city where several of the city's "buildings" where built right into the stone of the mountain. A wooden sign painted simply with what looked like a bottle full of liquid marked one door as an alchemy shop.
Sable pushed open the heavy doors and walked into The Hag's Cure. There were a few stairs leading down to a slightly depressed level after a short hallway. Just beyond the stairs, behind an L shaped counter, stood a rather old woman.
"I'm looking for Muiri," the assassin stated as she reached the woman.
"Muiri! Someone is asking for you." The crone rasped loudly looking to her left.
Sable turned her gaze to her right where the woman looked and saw a pretty young Breton rise from an alchemy table and walk over. She was about a head shorter than the white haired Nord with short light brown hair with a single braid running from the top of her head down the her left side to tuck behind her ear. She also had a facial tattoo consisting of two light blue stripes running from her cheekbones horizontally under eyes until not quite meeting near the bridge of her nose.
"May I help you?" The assistant asked.
Sable looked to the old woman that hadn't moved away from the counter. "If you'll excuse us, I have a private matter to discuss with Muiri."
"Bah, this is my shop," the old woman replied. "I don't have to leave. You can take yer business outside."
"That's fine." The assassin replied. "Join me outside, Muiri."
The alchemy apprentice followed the taller woman outside. As soon as she was outside, she turned a corner and found a somewhat empty stretch of the street.
"You requested that the Dark Brotherhood contact you using the Black Sacrament." Sable didn't figure there was much point in beating around the bush.
"It … it actually worked?" The Breton's voice full of confusion and perhaps awe, "I wasn't sure the Dark Brotherhood existed anymore. Are you really an assassin?"
"Indeed I am." Sable pulled aside some of the drab dress to reveal some of her black and sanguine leathers. "So, tell me. What is the contract you're offering?"
"I want you to kill Alain Dufont." Muiri's voice hardened with bitterness and pain. "I want him hunted down and murdered like the dog he is."
"I need more to go on than that." Sable prompted after a moment of silence.
"Of course, sorry." The assistant replied. "I did not know it when we were together, but Alain is actually the leader of a band of cutthroats … bandits. They're holed up in some old dwarven ruin. Raldbthar. It's near Windhelm. They use it as their base. It's where they stage their raids." The anger permeated her voice more and more as she talked. "I want you to go to that ruin, find Alain Dufont, and kill him. I do not care about his friends. Do whatever you want with them. But Alain has to die!"
"I see." Sable offered. "And payment?"
"Once Alain is dead, I'll pay you. In gold. I have saved up a bit. I hope that will do." The assassin was about to accept the contract and leave when Muiri spoke up again. "But … well … there is one more thing. If you're interested."
Sable turned back to her. "I'm listening."
"If you can, I want you to kill someone else as well. You don't have to. Not as part of our deal, but if you do I'll pay you even more." Without waiting for a response, the Breton continued. "It's Nilsine Shatter-Shield, in Windhelm. If Nilsine dies too, I'll make it worth your while."
Being her first contract, she wasn't sure if it broke the guild rules, but Sable was intrigued. She also figured there was more to this contract then she'd been told so far.
"Alright, tell me the full story. Why do you want Alain and Nilsine dead?"
Muiri took a breath to steady her nerves. "I went to Windhelm to see the Shatter-Shields. They were old and dear friends and in mourning. Frigga, their younger daughter, was killed recently. Murdered. I met Alain in a tavern while I was … drinking my sadness away. He was handsome … and charming. He said I was the beautiful lily of his dreams." Her voice was lower now, brimming with pain and sorrow. "Alain made all the pain just … go away. But it was all lies. Alain used me." The anger was now starting creep back into her voice. "He ruined my name, destroyed my friendship with the Shatter-Shields. Do you know why Alain was in Windhelm? He heard about Frigga's murder. He wanted to befriend the family in their grief and rob them blind! Alain used me to get close to my friends and now they all think I'm some kind of … monster. Alain took my life! And now I'm taking his."
"And Nilsine Shatter-Shield?" Sable asked. "Why does she need to die?"
"Don't you see? I was like a daughter to Tova." The Breton replied. "A sister to Nilsine and Frigga, but the family refuses to believe my innocence. No matter what I say. Couldn't they understand that I was used? That I was grieving for Frigga too? No! They treated me like garbage. Threw me away! With Nilsine dead, maybe then Tova will realize what she's lost, huh? Maybe then she'll see that I was just as much a daughter as the others. And if not … may she drown in her own tears!"
The assassin stood silent for a moment. Spiteful little thing, this one was. It was almost impressive.
"Is there anything else I should know about this contract?"
"I planned to kill Alain myself, you know. Nilsine too. But I lost my nerve. I even brewed a special poison. Lotus Extract. Maybe you could use it? Just coat your weapon with it. Then … you get the idea."
"I'll accept the contract." Sable announced trying to sound official. "It will be done."
"Make them pay for what they did to me!" Muiri answered.
The white haired assassin turned and walked away, leaving the apothecary assistant to return to her duties. Looked like she was in for another long boring carriage ride across Skyrim. Sable wondered if perhaps somehow Astrid knew about this and sent her as playful revenge for having bested her at the game.