This next chapter will break cannon a little bit. You will know what I mean when you read. Don't wanna give anything away! Sorry it has taken so long! I have had a little writers block, mixed with a hectic schedule!

Chapter 6- Catching Madness

It had been a few weeks since the Dark Elves had started to respond to the Legion's call. The word had spread so successful that even a high number of Dunmer that Ambarys did not know about were showing up at the gates of Windhelm. Legate Rikke stayed to help handle the influx of population. She had developed a fondness for the race.

It was summer now, and the snow had receded. Windhelm looked almost like Whiterun in the semi-warm weather. Rikke was enjoying the warmer weather, and often took walks at night when her duties of the day were taken care of.

"Things are moving quite fast now. We just need to check on Winterhold's status. We should be able to launch the attack by the end of this week." Tullius said with a smile. His audience was High Queen Elisif and her court. Burz was also in attendance. He had been named 3rd in command upon his return from Hammerfell. The audience nodded and began to smile. The mood in Solitude had been tense and dark the past few months, and this was the breakthrough they needed. It seemed like things were going a little too easily, but Tullius gladly accepted what ever blessing the divines would grant him.

The room began to empty, people were shaking the General's hand as they left. Burz smiled and gave a hefty shake as he left the room. Once they all had left, Tullius's smile left. He was tired. Happy and relived, but very tired. His age was catching up with his work ethic. He went to sit in his chair and muse over the next phase of the plan.

"Ambarys! I am going out! I will be back soon!" Legate Rikke called up the stairs. Night had fallen on Windhelm, and Rikke was ready for her nightly walk. She stepped out of the door and was greeted with orange-yellow streaks of light radiating from the west. It was cloudless this evening and the colors were extraordinarily rich.

She walked up the stone steps to the Stone Quarter and glanced at Candlehearth Hall. The windows had an orange glow in them, preparing for the coming night. Rikke heard a light thump on the stone steps behind her and turned to see what it was, but her eyes met an empty alley.

Gerneral Tullius woke with a startle. He must have fallen asleep in his chair. He looked around the room to see if any one had come to check on him. There was nothing but shadows with bits of silver light licking at the darkness. How long had he been asleep? He went to the window and saw the moon low to the east. It couldn't have been late. He turned back to look at the room again. Shadows. But out of the corner of his eye he saw one dance across the moon lit floor. Something had moved.

He moved to the table to light a candle to inspect the room. He decided to try a small flame spell the Winterhold Arch-Mage had taught him. He snapped his fingers and a small flame engulfed the wick. He then felt a sharp pain between his ribs, and then a searing burn spread through his chest like a line of ants flowing through his veins. He turned his head slowly as the world faded to black. His gaze fell on a female Argonian. He shuddered as he took a last breath and fell to the floor.

The sky was dark now, but the moon was bright enough to keep Rikke from wondering. She had made her way around Windhelm twice already and was working on a third. The weather was still cold, but it wasn't the usual biting cold. To her Nordic skin it felt warm. The townsfolk had all gone home, and she had the streets to herself. She looked in Candlehearth Hall as she passed it again. Black silhouettes danced in the windows as the flames of the candles flickered. It seemed like it was full tonight.

As she made her way by the cemetery she heard a bump in the dirt. She had been hearing strange noises all evening. She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword as she entered the misty cemetery. Something about graves always seemed to provoke a fog. She was looking hard as the walls of Windhelm were blocking the bright moonlight from reaching the cemetery. Rikke wished she remembered the candle light spell she had been taught by her brother as a girl. She made her way around the graves. She started to hear iron scraping on stone. Before she knew it, she was at the door to the Hall of the Dead.

"Hello Imperial puppet," A bone chilling voice came from behind. The Legate spun around as she drew her sword. Her eyes met with a slender woman in black. Her skin was white as snow, and her eyes were dark. There were golden strands of hair peaking out of a black hood over an obvious Nord face. Legate Rikke was unsure of what to do. She recognized the armor. If the rumors were true, she should already be dead.

"Don't worry, you will survive this night. My mother does not ask for your blood, Nord. I am here to speak with you. On behalf of my Listener, I must ask you, what business does the Empire have with the Dark Brotherhood this time?" The cold voice asked. She was a part of the Brotherhood.

"We did not perform a Sacrament. We have no business with you," Rikke replied.

"Our Night Mother hears more the just rituals, soldier. She knows of The Empire's wishes to contact us. Do not hide that fact."

"Why did you not go to General Tullius? He is in charge of the Legion's army. Shouldn't you be speaking with him?" Rikke asked, remembering the plan to ask the Dark Brotherhood for aid.

"I would love to, but I am no Necromancer. I can not commune with the dead." The woman said with a smirk. Rikke's jaw dropped.

"What do you mean? General Tullius is alive, in Solitude!"

"Oh my dear. My mother called for his demise tonight. That is what is keeping my Listener... engaged at the moment."

Rikke was speechless. The General had been assassinated, and his killers had sought her out on the same night.

Burz knocked on Castle Dour's door. General Tullius had missed dinner, and had not been seen leaving. He received no answer, and pushed on the door. It was open. He opened the door and made his way into the dark room. There was a small glow of light coming from the map room. Burz made his way to the light and saw a body on the floor. He turned it over and looked in horror as his General's lifeless eyes stared back into his. He let out a yell for help, his voice was muffled as guards stormed in. His arms and legs felt numb as he stumbled to his feet, only to fall back to his knees. Guards started shouting, as the room was flooded with torch light. Burz burried his face in his hands.

"You mean to tell me that you killed General Tullius, and then came to find me, with that smug grin on your face?" Rikke finally found her voice.

"Dear, I had already found you, and I assure you, I have yet to spill blood tonight. It was nothing personal. Just... business," The woman said. Her voice as cold as the Winterhold air. "Besides, from what I hear, you are now in charge. A reason to celebrate if you ask me." Her smirk grew to a smile.

"How do you know..."

"That you were next in line? It's not exactly a secret. Especially when it is your job to know such things," She said with a laugh. Could Rikke be this naive? "So what would you ask of The Brotherhood, General?" She lingered on the word General.

"First, I need to know who you are," Rikke said sternly.

"Now you sound like a person with authority," She said with a smile. "I am Astrid, a member of the Dark Brotherhood's Black Hand."