Tirdas 29 Sun's Height 204 4E 1:00 AM
Cicero and I were standing in Windhelm's graveyard, the place where the most recent victim had been found. Elbent had been sent back to Sanctuary to have our arcane specialists look over Wuunferth's notes. They seemed straightforward enough, but none of us currently on this assignment knew anything about magic and I wanted a second opinion on the local court mage's work.
Besides, it would give Cicero a chance to prove his worth.
The Keeper was back in his jester's motley. Cicero hated not wearing his velvet armor, but I had made him promise to only wear it either in Sanctuary or when we were about to complete a contract. The outfit was too distinctive to wear as everyday clothes in Skyrim. I was in my newly made shrouded armor with my cowl and mask firmly in place.
Cicero was softly humming to himself as he slowly swayed back and forth. The jester quickly picked up momentum as he launched into a private dance among the headstones. Cicero's humming became a quiet song as he spun and leapt over the final resting places. Suddenly, the Keeper stopped with his head turned to one side. Without a word, Cicero ran off into the darkness. I scurried to keep up.
Cicero's laugh floated on the wind as he ran through the cold, empty streets following his mad instincts. We passed a fire pit with one of the local beggars, a plain faced woman I had seen around named Silda, warming her hands over the flame. Cicero skidded to stop and danced up to the beggar. She looked scared as an Imperial man pushed his face into her hair smelling her. "No, no, no," Cicero murmured, "this one is sneaky, but not deadly." He laughed and continued to the market place. Silda looked to me for askance, but her eyes just grew bigger as she took in my distinctive red and black trademark shrouded armor.
I shrugged helplessly at her, restraining from laughing, before I followed Cicero on his erratic path. I found the Fool climbing over various vendors' booths touching everything he could get his hands on. He muttered and scolded to himself as he worked. Unsatisfied with what he found, Cicero left the marketplace as quickly as he had entered it and headed towards the residential district.
The stone houses were dark and quiet this late at night. I noticed Clan Shatter-Shield's house had a light on the second floor. Tova must still be up awaiting revenge for her daughter's death. I paused beneath the house wondering if I was doing the right thing by considering recruiting our target instead of sending him to the Void. The Shatter-Shields deserved closure after three years of pain, but every one of our Family had killed someone's loved one before they joined the Brotherhood.
Except for possibly me. I'm not sure if anyone could have honestly loved old Grelod the Kind.
"Listener," Cicero hissed, "this is the place." He pointed to Hjerim, an empty house next to Clan Shatter-Shield. I remembered that it had belonged to Friga Shatter-Shield, Tova and Torbjorn's older daughter. Torbjorn had mentioned it when I had visited for negotiations for better pay for the Argonians three years ago.
"How can you tell?" I asked as I walked over to the front door. I pulled on it, but it was locked. Like that ever stopped me from going where I wanted to go before. I pulled out my lockpicking tools and started to work.
"Quiet, too quiet. Still, empty husk waiting, waiting, waiting," Cicero laughed madly as he spun around with one leg extended into a ballerina's pose. "Cicero can smell blood, old and new mingled into an exotic fragrance."
The tumblers fell into place and I pushed the door open. The large wooden portal swung inward with barely a whisper; odd since no one had lived here in three years. The hinges should have creaked and complained from disuse. Had my jester lead me to the right place?
I whistled as I looked into the interior of the abandoned house. It was huge, but that didn't surprise me. The Shatter-Shields came from old money and still enjoyed financial prosperity when most of the rest of Windhelm starved. I stood up and entered the house before a patrol could notice us. Cicero skipped in, following me.
Everything was covered in dust and cobwebs. The front room was a huge, open area with a fireplace and several mostly empty book cases and shelves along the walls. To my right was a small room that could be used as a kitchen. To the back of the room were steps that lead to a second floor. I walked up the stairs to find another room of a similar size to the main one downstairs. Old display cases dotted the perimeter and there was a broken mannequin in the corner. Further investigation showed a small bedroom perfect for a housecarl across the hall from a master bedroom. I probably could fit close to three Breezehomes into this mansion.
"Nothing upstairs," I reported as I returned to the bottom floor. Cicero was crouched before a shelf full of "Beware the Butcher" fliers. The jester impatiently threw them on the ground as he rifled the shelf. I could tell by the yellow of the paper some of the posters were much older than others. Someone had definitely been here and relatively recently. Cicero smiled broadly as he snagged a broken amulet and handed it to me.
The metal was some unknown black material similar to ebony that drew what little light there was in the room into it. The surface was scratched so badly that I could only barely make out the silhouette of a skull but nothing else. "Well done, my Keeper," I smiled.
"Listener should save her praise," Cicero said as he chewed on the tip of his gloved thumb. "There is more, but Cicero is not sure what. Why the smell of blood if there is no blood?" The Keeper fell to his stomach and glided along the wooden surface with his hands caressing the wood. "Blood, blood, precious life-giving blood," he muttered to himself.
Cicero crawled cattycorner to another wardrobe. The jester pushed it open and climbed in. I could hear rustling and a click before Cicero exclaimed with pleasure. I walked up and saw that the wardrobe had a false back and opened into a secret room.
It was a horrific scene. A dark altar was set up along the back wall. A corpse was draped across it with arcane symbols surrounding it. Bits of viscera and buckets of blood were on the ground. One corner had a pile of skulls. Various embalming tools lined the shelves.
Cicero turned toward me, his eyes shining with excitement. "Listener, would you purchase this house and make this room Cicero's?"
Tirdas 29 Sun's Height 204 4E 11:30 AM
I gasped in pleased surprise. Calixto's House of Curiosities was open! I had decided to take a walk while Cicero was passed out in our room at the Candlehearth. The temptation of molesting the mostly naked, unconscious redhead had been very strong and I knew if I didn't get out of that small room I would give in to my desire.
Thanks to Meena's meddling, the two of us had not been intimate since the pirate ship. There was no direct rule against intimacy while on contract, but Cicero was usually pretty strict about duty first, although he seemed to be able to rationalize anything when it came to fulfilling my wishes. However, it was just good practice to not become distracted while on the hunt.
Still, watching Cicero sprawled across the single bed in his small clothes had left me with very inappropriate thoughts. Not that the Keeper would complain to wake to such administrations, but I was ready to try to finish this contract and head home.
I pushed the door open and entered the store that had held my attention for so long. As my eyes adjusted to the darkened interior, I called out, "Hello, shop!" Many merchants live in their stores and it was common courtesy to let the owner know you were entering. I didn't feel like being yelled at for trespassing after so much waiting.
The room was not very big mostly due to all the shelves that lined the walls. I could see various items decorating shelves. An Imperial man in his forties emerged from a room to my right. He was of average height with shoulder length dark gray hair that contrasted sharply with his dark skin. The man scratched at his thin goatee as he walked in. The clothes he wore were of average cut and looked slightly wrinkled as if he had been sleeping in them.
"Greetings," he said smiling warmly at me. He launched into a well-rehearsed speech. "My name is Calixto. Welcome to Calixto's House of Curiosities. What you see before you are items that my sister, Lucilla, and I collected in our travels across Tamriel. After she died, I located here and set up this place as a memorial for her. If you like, I can either give you a tour for two septims or you may look at the items at your own leisure." The man's voice was disinterested and he looked tired.
"I didn't wake you, did I?" I asked concerned. I glanced to the entrance. "The door was unlocked so I assumed you were open."
"No, you didn't wake me," Calixto said as he sat in a chair. "We are open. I apologize if I seem off. It is close to the anniversary of my sister's death and it always weighs on me."
"I'm sorry," I said. Gods, now I felt awkward. "Is there a better time for me to come back? I've been so curious about this place for years, but it seems every time I'm in town you're closed."
"No, please stay," Calixto smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I rarely get visitors. I suppose I am just out of practice. You'd think I would be better at this since it's my livelihood now, right?" His laugh was hollow.
My nerves were tingling with the need to get out of this dark room with this strange man, but my stubborn streak insisted on staying. I had waited too damn long to see this place to leave just because the proprietor sucked at his sales speech. I walked over to the closest shelf and examined it. It was covered with skulls of various creatures. "A troll's skull?" I asked. "Impressive. They are hard to defeat."
"I know some magic," Calixto bragged. "I was part of the school of Winterhold for a while."
Most of the items didn't hold much interest to me. Rare alchemical ingredients didn't seem like a good display piece. Maybe I was just jaded from spending so much time around Babette and all her tinctures. There was a giant's toe which I don't know if it fell with bits of defeated creatures or alchemical component. It made me realize I should ask Babette what goes into her potions before I drank another one. Ugh.
There was a fork that Calixto claimed was Ysgramor's spoon. I knew that Ysgramor was supposed to be the first man to set foot on Tamriel, but surely spoons had not changed that drastically since then. Another item of note was a flute that supposedly when played forced people to dance if you uttered a password, which Calixto obviously did not tell me. I smiled as I replaced the item thinking that Cicero would love to have that instrument.
A book titled 'The Book of Fate' caught my attention. I eagerly picked it up to thumb through, but was disappointed to see that it was blank. When I looked at Calixto, he said, "There is no fate but the one we make for ourselves."
"Live in my shoes for a day," I muttered as I replaced the book. The next shelf was full of embalming tools similar to ones I had seen littering barrows of ancient dead. "Did you explore a lot of old Draugr ruins too?"
"I did," Calixto said as he picked up the curved blade. "Fascinating process, wouldn't you say? In the midst of all that destruction and death, one finds the ability to preserve for Eras. I found some very interesting Altmer books on the matter."
"Where are those?" I asked intrigued. The only book I had seen was the 'Book of Fate.'
"Oh, private collection. You understand, I am sure," Calixto said hurriedly as he replaced the blade. I tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. Ancient books of the high elves would be much more interesting than anything Calixto had on display. "However, if you are interested, I wouldn't mind to show them to you. They are in the back room. Just follow me."
Before I could respond, the tinkle of the bell over the entrance drew my attention. Light flooded the dark room, but I could still make out Cicero's silhouette as he entered the room. "Got my note, did you?" I asked pleased that Cicero had only slept ten hours instead of his typical fourteen.
"Oh yes, I did, I did, I did," Cicero laughed as he pranced into the room. The Keeper skidded to a halt when he saw Calixto. "Hello," he said simply.
"Hello," Calixto returned.
"We should get lunch, sister," Cicero said as he stood next to me. His fingers were like iron as he grabbed my arm.
"There something I wanted to show you," I said.
Cicero tugged painfully on my arm. "Now!"
"You have a lovely sister," Calixto said, his eyes half-lidded. "I can tell the two of you are close." Cicero nodded tersely. "You should keep a close eye on her with that serial killer running around. I can tell you from personal experience that it is life-altering to lose someone close to you."
"I'll keep that in mind," Cicero practically growled as he dragged me out of the shop.
"Ow! What is wrong?" I asked annoyed.
"That was him," Cicero said, his voice low as he looked over his shoulder to the store. "That was the Butcher."
"How do you know?" I gasped.
"Because Cicero knows his own," the Keeper said in his dark voice.
Middas 30 Sun's Height 204 4E 2:30 AM
I yawned sleepily from my perch on the roof of the White Phial. Below me in the marketplace was a slight figure in a green dress carrying a familiar flower basket. Locals would recognize the figure from a distance as Nilsine Shatter-Shield although gods knew why the young woman would be walking around in the middle of the night. In reality, it was Cicero in disguise trying to lure the Butcher out.
It would be at least another day before Elbent would be back from Sanctuary, but the notes had indicated tonight would be a likely time for the Butcher to strike. Part of me just wanted to raid his house, but it was always best to not go into an environment that your opponent controlled. It was too likely that Calixto had the house trapped with plenty of weapons and supplies for the possibility of being caught. I shuddered to think what would have happened if I had gone into the back room with that madman.
We could just stake out at Hjerim and wait for Calixto to return to continue his ritual, but that would involve waiting for him to kill another innocent. Cicero saw no problems with this plan, but I was unwilling to let that happen. Better that we suffer a few sleepless nights on patrol than that.
I yawned again. It was boring up here on the roof while watching Cicero aimlessly wander back and forth among closed stalls. The heat of the summer day was long gone and the chill of the tile was seeping into my bones. I lightly slapped my face to stay awake. Maybe I could convince Cicero to switch places for a few hours; he was so much better at staying still while on the hunt than I. I could warm myself by one of the many fire pits in the city and maybe even chat up Silda.
Years of Cicero sneaking up behind me to startle me had honed my senses so I was able to roll away from the attack when I heard the barest of footsteps behind me. Mostly from instinct, I blindly shot an arrow in the direction of my attacker. The arrow flew past Calixto's face which was now murderous instead of sleepy and disinterested.
"Did you really think you could fool me with your decoy, whore?" he growled. He straightened and kicked my hand so that I lost my grip on Styx. The daedric bow clattered on the roof and slid away out of my grasp.
"I had to hope," I said sarcastically. I managed to throw myself to the side as Calixto plunged his embalming knife at my throat. I skidded down the sloped tile trying to get my bow with little success. "Cicero!"
Multiple throwing knives that had been hidden in the basket flew through the air at Calixto who blocked one of them with his own blade as he retreated backwards from the attack. Cicero's scream of laughter filled the night air as he discarded his disguise to reveal his jester's motley beneath.
I grabbed my bow and leapt from the roof. I landed on the opposite side of the market place and near the graveyard. It would be safer for me to be on firm ground instead of trying to shoot on the precarious tiles. Also, it was always much better to intentionally jump instead of being pushed off by an aggressor. I landed with a heavy thud and saw to my right Calixto had the same idea. I quickly shot my bow several times, but to my horror Calixto threw up a warding spell causing them to deflect as he quickly advanced on me.
"I told you that I was a spellcaster, girl," he growled as he backhanded me. I stumbled back, stunned from the blow. A heavy boot to my midsection threw me to the ground. I could barely make out Cicero's form as he rounded a corner to join the fight, but most of my vision was filled with Calixto's hateful face. "You'll make a fine addition to my sister's new body," he purred as he raised his blade to finish me.
A bucket flew from the darkness into Calixto's hand knocking the blade away. The Imperial screamed in rage as he turned towards the attack. Cicero was standing fifty feet away with magicka glowing around his hands. The Keeper grunted as he gestured and a tombstone uprooted and flew into the air into Calixto. The heavy stone made a sickening thud as it slammed into the necromancer and threw him backwards.
I could hear Calixto groaning in pain as he landed on the stone ground ten feet away. Cicero calmly walked up to the prone man. "That's what you get for messing with my Listener," the jester said with an evil grin as he slammed his curly toed boot into the Imperial's face, knocking him out.
Middas 30 Sun's Height 204 4E 4:30 AM
"I absolutely adore when people write journals," I said when Calixto awoke. We were back at Hjerim in the secret room with the stone altar. "It lets me see into the mind of my target so much more easily than just questioning you."
Calixto was kneeling in the middle of the pentagram made of bones, sinew, and blood on the floor. I casually tossed his journal before him. Cicero with his ebony blade ready was standing behind Calixto. If the other Imperial made the wrong move, the jester would slit his throat.
"Lovely letter to your dead sister," I said, "although a bit creepy if you ask me. I would have never known she was your kin by that letter."
"Kind of like you and your own brother?" Calixto said sarcastically.
"We're not actually related," I said. I leaned casually against the altar ignoring Calixto's scowl. "What's your excuse?"
"Lucilla was the most beautiful, perfect woman in all of Nirn," Calixto spat. "It wasn't right or fair for her to die! She was taken too soon, so I decided to do everything I could to bring her back so the world wouldn't be such a dark, damned place." When Calixto tensed as if to jump at me, Cicero placed a warning hand on the man's shoulder and firmly pressed his blade against the necromancer's throat. The blade dimpled the skin without breaking it.
"Hardly seems worth the lives of six women," I retorted.
"Fourteen," Calixto snarled, "but who's counting? Morality cannot be judged by numbers. Those other women were wasting their potential either by being sluts or useless. My mission would have brought meaning to their pathetic existence. They would have fulfilled the most vital of roles by providing their bodies for my dear sister."
"It was enough to have a Black Sacrament called on you," I said. "The Night Mother calls for a life, Calixto, and by normal procedure it is yours. However, I have a deal for you. Your life spared for your sister's. Although she is already dead, if you sacrifice the chance to resurrect her, then you may join the Dark Brotherhood. You don't have to be alone any more for you will have more brothers and sisters to love and protect."
I tossed Calixto a box of matches and gestured to the body on the altar. Calixto could clearly see where Cicero and I had poured oil over the body, essentially making the altar into a funeral pyre. When Calixto didn't immediately reject my offer, I let him think it over. It was one thing to kill for a loved one. It was another to die for them instead.
"Your mastery of necromancy would not be wasted," I promised. "With your books of old rituals, you could help construct a new crypt for the Night Mother. She could finally rest in shroud-blessed safety once again."
Cicero's head snapped up at my words. "Listener?" he asked in a strangled voice.
"No more need of Keepers, my dear Cicero!" I said happily. "Mother wouldn't need you anymore and we could fully reinstate your lovely blade for souls for Sithis!"
Cicero's face fell into stormy silence, not the reaction I had expected at all. Before I could say anything else, the ebony blade slid across Calixto's throat ending the man's life. "Lucilla," he managed to choke before the blood overflowed the wound and he fell dead before his sister's remains.
"Why did you do that?" I cried.
"The Black Sacrament must be sated," Cicero said coldly not looking at me as he cleaned his blade on Calixto's body before sheathing it. "Mother wanted this one."
"You're the one who suggested that we recruit him!" I threw back.
"Cicero would rather die than not be the Keeper!" Cicero screamed as he slammed me into the wall. I gasped as the air was forced out of my lungs from the impact. "You had better stop trying to keep me from Mother or I will decide that you are breaking the First Tenet." The Keeper's breath was hot on my face as he snarled into my ear.
Suddenly the pressure was gone and I slumped to the ground coughing. Cicero stepped back, all smiles and sunshine again. He offered a hand to help me up. "Is the Listener ready to go home?" he chirped happily.
I took the hand and accepted the help to stand, although I did eye the jester warily. "A simple 'no' to my plan would have sufficed, my dear Fool," I said stiffly. "Next time I recommend that you use your voice first unless you wish to be punished."
"Cicero lives to serve," Cicero said bowing deeply. The double meaning was not lost on me.