AN: Thank you for the review, Mr. Anonymous! I hope to keep this story going at a fair pace, but I will be forced to slow down a bit once I return from winter break. I would like to tell anyone who is reading this, REVIEW! Please, it really helps and encourages me. Lastly, I want to wish everyone a Happy Holidays! And don't worry about my update speed, I have PLENTY of ideas for what's gonna happen to Ridley. Marvelous plans...

Ch. 2

Ridley stepped through the large, wooden gateway into Whiterun somewhat apprehensively. He had only barely convinced the guard outside to allow him entry, and was even more concerned when he learned of the Imperial Legions presence inside the city. When he walked past a soldier begging for more equipment from some poor blacksmith, he surreptitiously tugged his hood further down his face. He did not think anyone would recognize or harrass him, but he wanted to be safe.

He walked further into the Hold, taking in the sights. The rain had finally cleared up, and he was able to get a good look at his surroundings. Skyrim was just as marvelous as he had pictured, and the Nord blood in him felt at peace with being home. Now, Ridley was by no means a stereotypical Nord. Unlike his kinsman, he had never had a problem with magic, and was rather thin. He had always preferred a sword to an axe, but was most proficient with a dagger or bow.

His more stealthily inclined skills had no use in Cyrodiil, what with the Empire falling apart, so he decided to make the trip to Skyrim. Of course, he had not made it far before he was struck on the back of the head and woke up on a cart, about to be executed.

Ridley shook his head to clear the memory, and walked up a set of stone steps to a small shop, called 'Belethor's General Goods' and walked inside. While inside, the obnoxious store-owner kept on trying to scam him out of his hard earned money. Ridley shot a glare at him, which shut him up. He walked out with much less coin, but much better equipment. Deciding that he would get a better look at what he had bought indoors, he walked over to an inn. A sign hanging out front labeled it 'The Bannered Mare'. He opened the door with a creak, and the smell of fire, mead, and cooked meat knocked him senseless. He smiled warmly as he shut the door behind him.

As he stepped quietly inside, he surveyed the area. There was a great, blazing fire pit in the center, with an armored Nord sitting beside it, as well as a bard singing about some man named Ragnar. He payed little attention to the song whilst he made his way calmly over to the barkeep.

"Excuse me, ma'am. Do you have a room available for the night?" he asked, his voice smooth as silk.

"Yes, we do have one ready for ten septims a night. You interested?" she asked without looking up from the mug she was cleaning.

"Yes, I'll take it," he replied. She insisted on showing him to his room, though he could see it from the bar. After she had left him alone, he sat down on his bed, and emptied the contents of his satchel. He had bought a few carrots, some venison, two-dozen lockpicks, as well as a potion of magica. He figured that if he was going to train in the art of conjuration, he would need it eventually. He had already read the spell tome he had bought earlier, and had learned to cast "Soul Trap." He had tried to use it on a fox that he spotted on the way there, and the effort had nearly brought him to his knees. He then set out the last item he had: the book he had taken from the hunter, 'Brothers of Darkness'. He cocked an eyebrow at the strange tome, and placed the rest of his spoils back in the bag. He changed out of his armor into a set of plain clothes he had taken from a chest when Belethor wasn't looking. He walked onto the indoor balcony next to his room, and sat down. He began eating one of his carrots, and opened the book.

'As their name suggests, the Dark Brotherhood has a history shrouded in obfuscation…'

Ridley set down the book he had only just finished with a strange look in his eye. He had, of course, heard tales of this "Assassins Guild" in the past, but he always placed them firmly in the category of superstition. In reading 'Brothers of Darkness,' however, he began to realize that there may be more to it than he previously believed. He pondered how a group of murderers could consider each other as family, and how they could live under one roof without trying to kill one another. He was taken out of his reverie by the sound of the downstairs door slamming open, and frantic footsteps rushing in. He looked down, and standing in front of the fire was Ariella, wearing his old ragged clothing.

"I've been robbed!" she cried, drawing the attention of everyone inside.

"I was cheated out of my equipment in the mountains! He told me that his sister was in danger, and when my back was turned, he knocked me out!" She was in an absolute state, her eyes wild. The Nord in the iron armor asked her,

"Who, woman? Who did this to you?" She seemed to focus slightly, as if trying to remember.

"A Nord! He was thin, with dark hair, and eyes black as night! I almost died, he left me in the rain!" At this, Ridley scowled. He had certainly not left her in the rain, he had made sure she was inside the cave. He had even left her a potion to help with the cold. Was she trying to make him seem worse than even he was willing to admit?

"I was so cold, when I woke up- and my clothes! He changed my clothes! I have no idea what he did to me while I was unconscious! What if I was taken advantage of?" Ridley was astounded.

"That little witch! I did no such thing!" he muttered to himself, "and she knows I didn't! She's just trying to gain more sympathy than she deserves!" His face paled when he heard the barkeep say that she had given a Nord who matched her description the upstairs room not four hours ago. The armored man downstairs unsheathed his battle-axe, and began to ascend the staircase. By the time he opened the door, Ridley was fully equipped and was leaping over the rail on the balcony.

He landed, and rolled next to the fire. As he dove out the door, he heard Ariella cry, "Thats him! He's the one! He's the criminal!" Ridley did not let up. He sprinted as fast as he could toward the gate that led out of town, and dodged multiple guards as they tried to stop him. He reached the gate, and pushed it open. The second there was enough room for him, he dove out and climbed the wall. Ignoring the path, he sprinted across the wall, and leapt out into the field. He raced over to a nearby carriage, and told the driver to take him as far away from there as possible. The driver replied,

"I'll take you to Windhelm for fifty septims." Seeing the yellow-clad guards close on his heels, Ridley threw the coins into the drivers hand, and the carriage raced off into the night.