It was as I pushed open the heavy metal door that guarded the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary that I heard the noise.

It was a quiet rustling, coming from a large bush about five meters away. I stopped for a moment, a million possible sources of the sound rushing through my head. I had not been followed, or at least I thought - everyone was capable of mistakes. But who would be after me? Vengeful family members of a previous target? Or perhaps bounty hunters from Markarth - the only city in which there was a price on my head, thanks to an uncharacteristic lapse in stealth on my part.

Slowly, I closed the door again, and carefully put down the heavy brown sack that had previously been slung over my shoulder. I drew a dagger from it's sheath on my leather belt, then moved furtively towards the bush. I reached for the bush, and started to push away the branches to reveal…

A rabbit.

A bloody rabbit.

Cursing my own stupidity and paranoia, I withdrew my hand from the bush, the branches snapping back to attention like soldiers caught lounging on-duty.

Sheathing my blade, I walked back to the Sanctuary's entrance, picking the sack back up on the way. I pushed the door open, and as it slammed shut behind me I was lost in momentary darkness before the candles that lit the entrance corridor lit themselves. What anyone would do without magic was a question I had often found myself pondering, always giving up after finding myself unable to form an answer that didn't sound completely horrible.

As I carried the heavy sack down the corridor, exerting more effort than I liked to admit,, I heard footsteps from ahead. I sighed, wondering which of my brothers had come to greet me and hoping it wasn't…

'Serb!' Came the enthusiastic greeting from the end of the corridor.

'Greetings, brother.' I replied dryly to Jorrel. Jorrel was a newer member of the Brotherhood, and one I could definitely have done without. He was something of a fan of mine, and an incredibly annoying one at that. He had an air of cheerfulness around him that did not befit an assassin, and the Argonian was one of my few brothers who I really couldn't stand.

Jorrel joined me as I walked into the main hall of the Sanctuary, dumping the sack on the long wooden table with a satisfying thump.

'What's in the bag, Serb?' Jorrel asked me curiously. I ignored him, instead turning my intentions to Harvar, the second-in-command of this particular branch of the Brotherhood..

'Is that all sixteen?' The Nord asked, gesturing to the sack.

'Seventeen,' I replied. 'There was an unexpected guard.'

'Ah.' Harvar smirked. 'You expect extra payment?'

'Not at all.'

'Good.'

Behind me, Jorrel was quietly opening the sack to investigate the contents. Or he thought he was being quiet.

'I wouldn't.' I warned him. Too late, the bag opened and the heads of sixteen targets and a guard spilled out of the bag, rolling off the table and onto the floor.

'Pick that up.' Harvar commanded the stupid creature angrily.

Together, Harvar and I walked out of the hall and into Harvar's chamber. Harvar sat at his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat opposite.

'Were there any complications?' Harvar enquired.

'None, except for that guard.' I answered.

'Good.'

'Have you anything new for me?' I enquired.

'Yes. One of our sisters has reported rumours of a performance of the Black Sacrament in Riften. Ride there and see what you can find.'

'I'll set out tomorrow, then - I haven't slept for days.'