Anderson grumbled in his sleep

"You worthless waste of flesh..."

He was doubtful anbody would come this far into the woods to check on the now dead hunter. As such, his bed would be 'safe' enough for his strange savious to visit. For now however, he was busy sleeping. Dreaming of his childhood days in Morrowind. He didn't like Morrowind. It's Dunmer people looked down upon him for being an Imperial. They had no right. The Empire ruled those damn dirty elves.

He turned on his side, his breathing getting heavier. In his dream, his father stood over him, fists bloody. Anderson was barely in his teens at that time in his life. But that would never stop his father. That madman would throw a bag of babies into a lake of slaughterfish, if he felt they were 'acting up'.

Suddenly, he was shaken from his dream/nightmare. The air had grown cold, a shadow was eclipsing him. He looked up, seeing a female Altmer clade in all-black robes standing over him "Arquen, I presume?" he asked sitting up. The female smiled warmly in response "Indeed, I am. You have served the Night Mother well by delivering this arrogant fool to the dread father of Sithis. Shewants you to have these, as thanks". She reached into the long sleeves in her robes, pulling a pair of thin, elbow length blades out. "An assasin must be swift and graceful, yet also undoubtedly deadly..." she began, handing Anderson the blades.

She looked over at the large cleaver propped against the cabin wall "Not slow and clumsy. You will find the enchantments most useful too. The blade in your right hand will absorb the health and strength from those they cut, while the one in your left hand will erode the armour of whoever they strike". Anderson looked over the blades, smirking as he did so. They were certainly lighter then the old cleaver, and far deadlier. "Well, you can tell the Night Mother I said thanks...So, what do we do next?" he asked, putting his armour back on. Arquen smiled, opening the cabin door casually "You follow me".

And they set off, heading toward Cheydinhal. Surprisingly, they did not go into Chedinhal, they walked straight past the town, heading instead into the mountains. Anderson groaned. He had seen enough of mountains to last him a thousand lifetimes. They walked for hours, all the while Arquen filled him in on the rules, or 'tennets', of the Dark Brotherhood, the Black Hand and finally the Sanctuary Anderson would be working at. "Little over 2 years ago, the Valus mountain sanctuary was the home of an Orcish noble, know as Lord Rugdumph". Surprisingly, Arquen giggled like a schoolgirl saying the name aloud, though Anderson couldn't help but laugh too. Arquen cleared her throat and continued.

"The manor was plagued by a little Ogre problem. It got so bad that the lord and his daughter fled, finding a home in Cheydinhal. Their loss was the Brotherhood's gain. We had no problem clearing the Ogres from the area, and set about creating a new sanctuary in the old manor. Shortly before that time, the Dark Brotherhood had suffered a crippling blow in Cyrodiil. A traitor in the order ended up tricking an unsuspecting Silencer into killing off most of the Black Hand. But, soon the traitor was reveaed and slain by that Silencer, who was named as the new Listener by the Night Mother herself. She soon set about repairing the damage the traitor had caused, creating many new sanctuaries in Cyrodiil, and recruiting many new members".

She came to a halt, just in front of the crumbling abandoned manor. Anderson's jaw dropped "I have to live HERE?". His surprise was warranted. The windows were cracked, part of the roof was caved-in, the bricks were worn and cracked. It certainly didn't look like a nobleman's home. Arquen chuckled in response "When you go in there head over to the fireplace, and put your hand on the mantle. You will be asked a question. Your response, will be "Sanguine, my brother". Then Arquen simply faded from sight dissapearing with the frozen mountain winds. Anderson blinked repeatedly in surprise. He would need to learn that trick.

Deciding to continue on his mission, he forced open the door. It's hinges were rusted, making the task a little difficult. He took a look around. It certainly din't look any better on the inside. The paint was chipping, the stairs were collapsing, and several statues were smashed and toppled over. He grumbled heading for the fireplace. He took Arquen's advice, putting his hand on the fireplace. Suddenly, a ghostly voice rang through the room, and for a moment, Anderson thought there was a ghost in the mansion.

"What...Is the colour...Of night?"

The ethereal voice wheezed. Anderson swallowed deep, answering the spirit "S-Sanguine, my brother".

There was sudden rumbling behind Anderson, He turned quickly, seeing a large chunk of the scenery opening up like a stone trap-door. Anderson peered down, seeing a rickety old ladder leading down into darkness. Anderson sighed deeply, mentally preparing himself for whatever might lay ahead. He grabbed the first the top of the ladder and slowly began climbin down into the dark embrace of the sanctuary, only hearing one thing as he made his descent.

"Welcome...home..."