Lucien hated Bravil.
The city, if it could be called that, was a swampy cesspool. The endless buzzing of insects, sound of running water, and the sticky, humid night air all contributed to his current bad mood.
Not to mention the less than pleasant company of the Bosmer before him.
Their animosity for each other was not a secret among the Dark Brotherhood, but they were professionals, and personal squabbles would not be allowed to interfere with the running of the guild.
Ungolim stood before him, clothed not in the black robes usually favored by members of the Black Hand, but instead a green doublet and tan pants tucked neatly into leather boots. Slung on his back was an elven bow of typical Bosmeri design.
The mer's eyes were fixed on the radiant red gem before him. The Amulet of Kings was indeed a miraculous sight. A ruby inclusion, colored a most brilliant red, was set beautifully into the gracefully wrought gold.
"So you say," began Ungolim, shifting the heavy chain in his hands before returning it to the pouch, "that your recently deceased Slayer was in possession of this?" Lucien nodded.
"According to his journal, he's had it for at least three months, lining up with the death of the Emperor. Though, it also indicates that he was directed to take it to Weynon Priory, on the final orders of the Emperor himself." Ungolim's brows knitted themselves into a frown as he stared at the leather pouch, before he spoke.
"There have been reports recently, you know. Word of daedra appearing in the countryside. Curiously enough, the sightings began about three months ago, with the death of the Emperor. I do not know much about the daedra, though Arquen or Vicente would probably be able to tell you something. However, I do suspect that this amulet has something to do with these recent sightings." He stood with a sigh.
"I will bring this before the Night Mother, that she may grace us with her wisdom."
The two figures moved easily through the dead of night, from the small enclosed courtyard where they had been discussing the Amulet, to the statue fondly referred to as the 'Lucky Old Lady'. Lucien snickered.
"Lucky indeed. If only they knew…"
Ungolim moved to stand before the statue. Lucien would be the first to admit, it was a bit unnerving to watch the Listener communicate with the Night Mother. No words were exchanged, though occasionally Ungolim's face would show reactions to what she said. Finally, Ungolim executed a short bow, before turning to Lucien.
"The Night Mother has spoken. The Amulet is to be taken to Weynon Priory. And you are to do it." Before Lucien could begin to protest, Ungolim continued.
"Whatever this gem is, it is important, and the Night Mother will see no failure in this task. The Night Mother has made her desire clear. She also shared my concern about the daedra, and has decided that Executioner Valtieri is to accompany you as well." Ungolim returned the leather pouch to Lucien, who slipped in into his robes.
"Very well, Listener, I shall do as the Night Mother wishes," Lucien executed a curt bow. "May you always walk in the Shadow of Sithis." With no further words, Lucien melted into the blackness surrounding them, leaving Ungolim standing at the base of the statue.
Vicente Valtieri was not in a good mood.
He was in the sewers, on the way to completing the contract that should have gone to their most recently deceased member. The vampire was not one to begrudge field work, having during his long career in the Brotherhood, served at every position. But he still couldn't help feeling a little bitter.
Filthy, disgusting, wet and miserable.
After about an hour of cutting through mud crabs and rats, Vicente wasn't sure he would be able to resist gutting the first Imperial guard he saw. Finally, he made it to the exit of the sewers, and the beginning of the formerly secret underground passage. Feeling at the dwemer claymore to make sure it was securely fixed at his back, he kept his eye on the guards talking idly to his right. The glimmer of their life force shined hazily through the wall, but even if that hadn't warned him, their loud chatter would have.
By Sithis, would they just shut up and move.
Vicente had to resist grinding his fangs as their inane conversation continued for five more minutes, before they moved to continue their rounds. Slipping past them quietly, he deftly continued through the dark, seeing clearly despite the lack of light. Making his way past two more guards, he found himself at a short staircase leading up to the prison complex itself.
The wall opened to reveal the inside of a typical holding cell. Shackles hung from the ceiling and bones littered the floor, a testament to the quality of care prisoners received. The bars were unlocked, and the cell was conveniently set across from the mark. There was a guard standing in the narrow hallway of the prison, and he could hear the wretched Dunmer spit curses at the brute of a guard. When he heard the guard move to leave, he slipped from the shadows into the hallway, and set to work on the lock.
"Hey, you there, Breton n'wah let me out. Do you hear me, you man-mer imbecile, let me out of the cage, you filthy s'wit-"
Whatever patience Vicente had left him. He had spent the better part of an hour and a half crawling around in the sewers. He was hungry and cranky. And he was not going to spend a second longer listening to some half-starved convict insult him. Red eyes looked up, and matched the Dunmer's.
Bad move.
Being a vampire afforded him a bag of tricks, and this convenient charm spell was one of them. Dazed, the Dunmer could do nothing as Vicente finished picking the lock, and the bars swung open to admit him. Drawing his claymore, he could feel the Dunmer clawing ineffectively against the spell, before he slid the blade through him. Vicente allowed himself to enjoy the metallic tang of blood for a moment, before sliding the blade out. The corpse slid unceremoniously to the floor, and Vicente cleaned the blade off on the filthy shirt. Sliding the blade back into its sheath, he made his way up the stairs. Through the door, he saw the shine of two figures. Feeling playful, the vampire dragged up the corpse of the Dunmer with him, before opening the door.
"What the hell-"
Vicente threw the corpse to the center of the room, before letting a smile curl on his lips.
"The Dark Brotherhood sends its regards."
And before either guard could draw a weapon, he vanished.
Lucien was sure the vampire was hiding somewhere. He had come back to the sanctuary, in a foul-temper, and ready to unload his misery on the vampire, as well as inform him with anticipated glee, that he would have to come with Lucien on his merry little trek across Cyrodiil. If he knew anything about the vampire, it was how much he disliked spending long periods of time out of the Sanctuary.
Something about being caught out in the sunlight, and burning up probably.
He made his way to Ocheeva's room. Knocking politely, he waited for the Argonian. Ocheeva opened the door, surprise written on her face to see her Speaker there.
"We had not been expecting you back so soon, honorable Speaker. What brings you to the Sanctuary." Ocheeva moved to allow Lucien into her room, and sat down at the table. Once he was seated, she offered him a measure of Cyrodiilic brandy, noting that he accepted the strong cordial.
Ocheeva could always roughly measure her Speaker's mood, depending on whether he took the offered glass of brandy. Generally he refused, but whenever in a sour mood, he would accept the strong liquor. In which case, she poured some for herself as well.
"A unique case has come up for me, in which I will be gone for an indeterminate amount of time," Lucien began, twirling the glass idly in his fingers, "and furthermore, Vicente is going to be accompanying me. Ungolim is aware of the situation already, and has redirected contracts accordingly, since we recently lost another member as well."
Ocheeva nodded, knowing better than to ask what this particular absence was for. However…
"Vicente is not here, as you have probably noticed. He took up the contract that was intended for our late member," she pushed a copy of the Black Horse Courier to Lucien, who read the bold title.
Imperial Prison Infiltrated! Prisoner Left Dead!
Ocheeva continued. "Given that he can only travel at night, and that this came out today, I imagine he'll be returning soon, tonight or tomorrow." Lucien nodded, and stood up.
"Thank you Ocheeva, I shall wait until Vicente returns," he said, and left the room, closing the door behind him, before retiring to his own rarely used quarters.
As Vicente returned down the well ladder, he gave a nod at Teinaava, who was leaving on his own contract. Moving down the hall, he noticed a candle burning and the doors to Lucien's quarters open, indicating that their Speaker was present. The vampire invited himself in, to see Lucien packing a set of saddlebags.
"Welcome back Vicente." Lucien stood up, and turned to the vampire. "As you can see, I've also just returned, from Bravil. I brought the Amulet before the Night Mother, and she has instructed me to take it to Weynon Priory." The vampire smiled.
"I had expected as much. However," the vampire nodded toward the two bags, "do you really need so much for such a short journey? Surely one bag would suffice."
Lucien could not help but let a smirk form on his face.
"That is because, my dear vampire, you will be coming with me."
A/N: You have to admit, Bravil does seem like a pretty miserable place.