Alastair scribbled quickly on a parchment of paper, his fellow Companions paying little mind to what he was doing. The Khajiit had been with them already for a month and they had found him to be quite odd. While he was an amazing warrior just like he claimed, he also took time to write and read. He had explained to his Shield-Siblings the importance of knowledge and how a warrior couldn't rely just on brawn alone. Needless to say, his little talk didn't seem to have made an impact.

Crossing out a word Alastair folded back his ears in annoyance. How he hated being around those of little intelligence. As he sat working on a letter to be send to the General of the Imperial Legion his comrades were busy training back area of the hall. The Khajiit was sitting on the patio, trying to enjoy the nice sunny day as he wrote, but his lingering thoughts were causing him to make many mistakes. The loud yells and hollering didn't help matters either; Alastair kept glancing up whenever Farkas made an unnecessary bellow.

"Dear brother, do you think perhaps you could tone it down? I am trying to write." Alastair spoke with an insincere kindness, hoping it would fool the Nord. He wasn't in the mood to actually be kind to the oaf in anyway.

"But brother, this is my training time. Couldn't you…write in your room?" Alastair's tail twitched at the response, Farkas was such an idiot that he had forgotten that only the Inner Circle was afforded their own rooms. Deciding best not to indulge the Nord's stupidity Alastair gathered up his writing materials and headed inside.

Alastair quickly learned that wasn't the best of plans, he had almost collided with Skjor. "Ah, there you are. We have a job for you, Alastair. Nothing too difficult, but someone in Windhelm needs some wolves removed from their food storage room. An easy enough job." Before Alastair could protest his superior had already wandered off, leaving the cat to boil over his new assignment. The Khajiit was no fool, he had heard the stories about Windhelm, and how the Jarl's views of other races made the city a hot spot for racial fighting. Not only that, but the Jarl was the leader of the rebellion known as the Stormcloaks. His eyes suddenly gazed down onto his parchment paper, wondering if messaging the Legion General was the way to go. The Empire currently sat uncomfortably close to the Dominion and the General more than likely would not aide the Khajiit in his quest. However, these Stormcloaks might, with a little persuasion. Alastair knew they would distrust him for his race, but that was fine. He had no intentions to actually help them in their silly cause; he had more pressing matters to attend to. Just a little manipulating and Alastair could easily get what he needed from the Stormcloaks, before they even had any idea of what he was doing.

"Perhaps, this won't be such a terrible job after all…" The Khajiit stroked the fur on his chin, his tail now curling with contained glee.

"Are you sure you want to do this assignment? You are still healing from your wounds and if you are caught in Windhelm..." Astrid watched as the newest Assassin gathered their things for a long journey. Slight concern was etched over the older woman's face.

"I know the risks, Astrid. But, I still need to prove myself. I completely botched the last contract and got hurt in the process. I'm just glad no one followed me back here…"

"Adelphia, you went up against a Werewolf, who was one of the Companions no less. Even my husband is impressed by that. You don't need to prove yourself; we all know what you can do. We just don't want to see you get killed. Remember, we are a family. "

"I know. But, I have to do this for myself as well. I know I can do this." Astrid sighed but smiled at the other, "Then take my horse. His name is Shadowmere. He'll protect you during your journey and provide fast transportation."

"Thanks."

Adelphia adjusted her pack of supplies and headed out; she noticed the red eyed horse standing in the glistening black pool. "You must be Shadowmere. Nice to meet you. Mind if I place some supplies on you? Don't worry, they aren't too heavy, but you appear to be a nice strong horse. " Shadowmere neighed in answer, not protesting to the packs that the Nord placed on him. Hoisting herself on top of the horse she took one last glance at the Black Door. "I won't fail this time." Lightly kicking the horse's sides, she began her long trip to the snowy city of Windhelm.

Alastair awoke to the sounds of cold wind blowing against his ears, opening his eyes he saw the looming walls of the city of Windhelm. "Finally…" The driver of the wagon stopped the horse at the stables, turning to his customer. "We are here, sir. Still, I think you need to be careful. Windhelm isn't known for being welcoming…"

"Just take your coin and be off." The driver quickly quieted taking the money and riding off. The Khajiit sneered at the city before him. He would take care of the job first, and then head to the Blue Palace to speak to the supposed legendary Ulfric Stormcloak. Alastair straightened his battleaxe for reassurance as he trudged forward. He was aware that he was intimidating looking, he was wearing a full set of Steelplate Armor save for the helm and had a Steel Battleaxe at the ready. Even the most battle hardened Nord or Orc would see him as a threat. And that was exactly how Alastair wanted it.

A light snowfall began to fall as Alastair made his way up the massive city gates. The guards took notice of him in an instant and descended upon him. "What are you doing here, cat? Your kind is not allowed in here." Alastair crossed his arms in defiance and folded his ears back, "And why not? I have a job to perform. I have to clear out a food storage room of wolves. Perhaps if the city guard did their job, the Companions wouldn't have to trek out to this sorry excuse for a city, and do the job for you. Now move aside, I have no qualms about killing either one of you."

The two Nords were taken aback by the Khajiit's attitude, never really meeting one that would so fearlessly stand up to them. They both stood aside for the Companion, allowing him to enter into Windhelm.

"Yes, that's what I thought…" Alastair spoke these words in a hushed tone. Like most Nords he had met in the past in other provinces, the native ones of Skyrim were just as much as pushovers as the rest. Despite it being midday, the city was quite dark, the snowy clouds above casting a shadow upon the stony keeps and walls. The warrior brushed some snow from his fur when he caught sight of two Nords harassing a female Dunmer. Alastair's tail lashed about for a moment, he was eager to start a fight.

"What seems to be the problem gentlemen…and lady?" Alastair smiled at the Dark Elf, using his charm to get into her good graces. It was a useful skill that aided him just as much as his skill in battle.

"Oh look, now the guards are allowing the damn cats into the city. First the grey faces and now beasts. At least the lizards have the decency to stay outside of the city!"

"You mean the Argonians aren't allowed in the city?"

"That's right you mangy beast. The Dunmer should go join them. Since what Ulfric gave them to live in wasn't good enough!" It was becoming more and more clear that the man was drunk; still, this didn't excuse his behavior. Not in Alastair's eyes anyway. He ignored the raving man for moment, turning to speak with the Elf.

"I was aware that the Nords here were weary of other races, but not to this extent. I take it you Dunmer are treated badly as well?"

The Dunmer woman nodded, "Yes. We were forced to live in slums and the Nords don't wish to give us decent jobs. They simply don't trust us. And the Argonians are treated just as badly. Have to live out on the docks and get paid terrible wages for their hard work."

"Well, why the Argonians should be paid at all! Only work done by Nords should be rewarded!" The belligerent man started up again and Alastair had had just about enough of the mead induced rambling. With a well-aimed fist, Alastair sent the man to the ground, out cold.

"Oh, you shouldn't have done that…"

Alastair glanced back at the woman, "Why not? He was drunk and out of hand. No need for him to continue shouting about." The Elf only shook her head, "He's the brother of Galmar Stone-Fist. The right hand man of Ulfric Stormcloak himself, you are going to have a lot of heat coming your way my friend." Without another word, the woman retreated from the scene, clearly not wishing to be around when things were going to get messy.

"Ugh, perfect. Just what I need, and here I was supposed to charm these barbarians. "Alastair bent down, dragging the unconscious man into an upright position. "No need for you to be face first on the ground, least I can do. Though, I have a feeling your friend has already fetched the local guard on me."

As if on cue, a Windhelm guard approached the Khajiit, sword in hand. "I was informed you assaulted this man. That's at least two days in prison, though it should be more…considering what you are." Though the Nord did not outright say it, Alastair knew the human was addressing his race.

"And so what if I did knock him on his rear? He is drunk and was verbally attacking a woman minding her own business. Though, I suppose the verbal abuse was alright since the lady was a Dunmer I take it?" The Khajiit's tail lashed in fury and he was itching to grab his battleaxe and go on a rampage.

"You've said enough, cat. You are off to the barracks!" Alastair was going to protest a bit more, but he suddenly felt more eyes on him. Turning around he saw more guards and realized he was outnumbered. He weighed his options and thought of a different approach. "I'm one of the members of the Companions, I was hired to kill some wolves that were raiding a food storage room. I told the guards outside the same thing."

"Oh, the same guards you threatened Khajiit? Likely story. However, we will contact the Companions to see if your story pans out. If you are telling the truth, we'll release you."

"What you said my sentence would only be two days? Now you are holding me hostage until you here from my comrades?"

The Nords did not answer him, merely shoved him forward to get him walking towards the Blue Palace. Alastair knew he had little choice but to go along with it. He was a warrior, but not an idiot. Sometimes the best course of action was to do what you needed to do into order to fight the next day. He knew he could find a way out of the prison if he just used his brains. Or if some luck was thrown his way.

Leaping from rooftop to rooftop the Dark Brotherhood Assassin paused for a moment to witness the drama that was unfolding down below. She slightly smiled as the Khajiit came to the defense of the Dunmer. Normally, Adelphia wouldn't have even been concerned with any of this, but there was something about the Khajiit. He had a certain charm that much she could tell. Still, she had a job to do and couldn't spend her time eyeing up the men the wandered into the city.

"Business before pleasure, as they say." She muttered the saying to herself, as a reminder that she was the member of the Dark Brotherhood and that a relationship was something that she was not looking for at the time being. Her duty was to her family and the Dread Father.

Using the shadows of the ancient city to her advantage, Adelphia slipped further away from main gate and towards the Blue Palace. She couldn't believe where she was heading, couldn't believe who she was hired to murder in cold bold. Yet, at the same time, she could believe it. This man had made himself many enemies, that much was sure. Though the Brotherhood cared very little for politics and who was in 'charge' Adelphia couldn't help but think how this would shift the outcome of the Civil War. In one way, it pleased her. One of her old time friends had joined the Imperial Legion and Adelphia would never wish to see the death of someone she actually cared about. Yet, it didn't surprise the assassin that that same friend had joined the Thieves Guild. Adelphia was always the one of very low honor among the folks she knew. She enjoyed being a killer for hire; it fed her and gave her job security.

"Back to the task at hand."

Adelphia had made it to the Blue Palace. Standing atop a ledge and eyeing up the massive gates and smirked, "Time to die Ulfric Stormcloak."