Tools of The Trade…
Two days after Kestrel's arrival at the Sanctuary, I awoke early that morning to what sounded like the roaring of a sabre cat. Thinking someone had left the trap door open and one had slipped in, I jumped to my feet and grabbed my daggers before rushing down the hall to what had once been the torture chamber. I had it repurposed not too long ago into an armory and forge, as we never really needed to torture people… and if we did I preferred it be done on the spot or at least outside the Sanctuary. I stopped running just in the doorway and was greeted by a dagger sailing by and slicing a few strands of hair.
"RAWRGH! How can anyone be expected to work with this useless junk?!" raged Zany as he practically turned the armory inside-out. I turned and pulled the dagger out of the wooden support beam and examined it to find that it was a nicked and battered iron dagger; the lowest quality weapon available in nearly the worst shape possible.
"Zany! What the hell is your issue?" I asked him, hoping maybe he had a good reason for scaring me awake. Zany was now wearing a hood but when he turned to face me I could still see the rage in his expression.
"These weapons are nothing but junk! I wanted to familiarize myself with our armory in the event that I need to borrow something… but the moment I tried to use one of these things-" Zany began to explain, though he needed to pause for a moment to regain control of his temper, "It snapped in half! I tried a different one, it snapped too!" He finished explaining with venom in his voice. I walked into the room and looked around to find the remains of two other iron daggers, both had indeed snapped in half.
"I agree, this equipment is a joke." said a voice from the door. I turned to see Kestrel leaning against the doorframe with an iron arrow in hand. "Look at this arrow, do you see something… wrong with it?" She asked as she held the arrow by each end. I may not be an archer, but I can tell when an arrow is bent; and this arrow would be lucky to fly even remotely straight. I sighed and told them that I would take care of it. With Abjorn's death during the Pentus Oculatus attack, we have been left without a smith at the Sanctuary; we would need to find a new one fast, or things could get ugly with sub-par equipment. I had faith in the Night Mother when it came to finding capable assassins, but a talented smith was another question; I would need to do a bit of leg-work for this one. It was common knowledge that Eorlund Grey-Mane was that best Blacksmith in all of Skyrim, however there wasn't even a remote chance we could get him as our smith. Perhaps asking around Whiterun could bring me to a blacksmith for hire that was nearly as good. I dressed in my typical disguise- though adding a light green hood to obscure my face- and hidden weapons before heading for the main hall.
"Nazir, try to keep Zany under control while I'm gone will you?" I asked with a smile as I headed up the stairs to the Black Door.
"You worry too much Listener." Nazir replied nonchalantly, he had apparently not heard our resident Argonian's outburst earlier. I sighed and headed up the stairs and through the Black Door, greeting Shadowmere before heading off for Whiterun. The journey to the heart of Skyrim was dull, a few wolves were all I had to contend with.
I entered the city gates and watched as several city guards began to mass before me. At first I thought they knew who I was and had gathered to arrest me, but my nerves were eased when a Dunmer woman began speaking to them about a dragon they were about to fight. I shook my head at their foolishness, Dragons have been dead for hundreds of years and everyone knew that! I headed down the city street in the direction of the Bannered Mare, as taverns are always the best source of information no matter what you are looking for. I entered the tavern and sat down at the bar,
"Do you think you could help me with something? I'm looking for a Blacksmith for hire, someone who can hold their own in a fight while helping to maintain equipment. Can you recommend anyone?" I asked the barkeep; keeping my hood low and pretending I was just a simple adventurer looking for a Hire-hammer. The barkeep thought for a moment as she continued to wipe out a mug.
"There was an Orc feller by the name of Donovan Gravebone who was claiming to be a smith, but he left a little while ago headed for Windhelm I think; he said he was looking for… The Dark Brotherhood!" She explained, her voice dropping to a whisper as she uttered the name of the notorious guild of assassins; I had to fight not to smirk. He was looking for us, while we were looking for him; by Sithis what good fortune! I gave the barkeep a tip before leaving and heading out, practically running out the city gates.
"An Orc passed by here recently, which way did he go?" I asked the guard outside the gate.
"I wouldn't bother going after him if I were you Miss, that fool went off after a Giant! They occasionally come near the gates but if we leave them alone they eventually go away; this one was almost gone, but that blasted Orc charged at it like it was nothing!" The guard explained as she shook his head in disbelief. Orc were known for reckless behavior, but they weren't exactly common in Whiterun so this must have been the guards first time meeting one.
The guard had been pointing in the direction of the large plain just off the road leading to the gate. As soon as I stepped off the road and onto the small ridge beside it, I could see a Giant fighting with someone half its size clad in full ebony armor that stood out against the lightly-colored grass; two other Giants lay dead not far from the current combatants. I stood there and watched, as our smith I wouldn't expect him to leave the Sanctuary for contracts, so this was as good a test as any to judge his skill with the blades he would forge. As the last Giant fell I began to walk down the ridge to the victorious warrior, clapping in recognition of his skills.
"Very well done, I must say if your skill with a smith's hammer is anything like your swordsmanship I think I just may have a job for you Donovan Gravebone… if you're interested." I said, in a manner that oddly reminded me of the late Astrid almost as soon as I said it. Donovan simply scoffed and began to walk away,
"I'm not interested, I'm looking for The Dark Brotherhood; if you can't direct me to them, then go away." he said gruffly, I smiled as he turned away.
"Well then maybe you should reconsider my offer, as the Brotherhood has found you." I said as a matter-of-factly. Donovan kept walking, obviously not believing me and my claims of being a member of the Brotherhood. "Fine don't believe me, but if you change your mind… head to Dawnstar and hidden in the rocks facing the sea you will find a Black Door. It will ask you a question, answer: "Innocence, my brother" and you may begin your new life as a member of the Dark Brotherhood; if anyone should give you trouble upon entering, simply tell them Alyce sent you." I explained, knowing he could hear me even as he continued to leave. I too began to walk away, though my destination was the stables; after saddling Shadowmere I was off once again, this time bound for home.
I arrived in Dawnstar just as the sun was falling below the horizon, and wearily entered the Sanctuary hoping to head straight for my room and go to sleep; no such luck however.
"Listener you have returned to us once again! Cicero must speak with the Listener of a situation most dire!" raved Cicero like the madman he was, though I sighed and waited for him to continue. "That Argonian, Zany threw a knife at poor Cicero! He said Cicero was… annoying, and he nicked Cicero's hat! Is Cicero really so annoying, surely the Listener doesn't think so?" asked Cicero, giving me his obvious best attempt at a pleading puppy-dog look. I rubbed my closed eyes with my fingertips in frustration.
"Only when you talk too much, and as for your hat… it's enchanted right?" I asked him, receiving frenzied nod of Cicero's head for a reply. "Well when our new Blacksmith arrives he can try to fix it for you." I continued. Cicero looked like he was so happy he could hug me, and he almost did were it not for my sleeve blades between the two of us. "Don't get over excited, or you'll become annoying." I said flatly, as I held my forearm out vertically so that the blade would not stab him unless I wanted it to. "For now… just go bother someone else, I wanna sleep." I said with finality before walking off to my room and locking the door behind me. I changed into my nightclothes and dropped like a rock into my bed and fell asleep nearly as fast.
Several hours later I awoke to knocking at my door, and at first I thought it was Cicero again.
"Go away you clown!" I shouted from my bed, not bothering to get up.
"I'm guessing Cicero has been annoying you as well Listener?" Asked the voice of a young girl, Babette! I jumped to my feet in surprise, opening the door with a look of embarrassment on my face,
"I'm so sorry I thought it was Cicero again! He keeps getting me up and out of bed for the stupidest reasons." I explained to the vampire child who wasn't a child at all; the "Un-child", as many people seemed to call her.
"It was a simple mistake then, no real harm was done. I simply thought you would wish to know an Orc has arrived claiming to be our new Blacksmith. Is he the one you went to find yesterday?" Babette inquired, I simply nodded before walking back into my room to change into my shrouded robes. Once I was decently dressed I left my room and headed for the main hall. I soon found the Orc, Donovan, sitting at the table with Kestrel and Zany as they talked over flagons of ale; though as expected Zany was sitting by himself at one end of the table with a pint of mead and not exactly being talkative.
"I see you changed your mind about my offer." I said from the top of the stairs, walking down slowly.
"I suppose you could say my curiosity got the better of me." he stated simply. Upon hearing this I began to ponder, Orcs were not known for being curious or the kind to be this well-spoken; I truly began to wonder about our newest member. It had donned on me when I entered the dining hall that Donovan was not wearing his ebony helmet, and since I was closer now I could begin to see that he was not a normal Orc; he looked almost like a fellow Breton, which led me to the conclusion that he was likely a Half-Orc. His parentage mattered little to me unless it got in the way of his duties, so I disregarded it as trivial; though this did explain his human-like demeanor and well-formed manner of speech. I would have asked him about it, but I supposed it was another question for another day.
I sat down at the table and decided to get down to business.
"So Donovan, how are you at repairing enchanted items?" I asked him simply as I remembered Cicero's hat.
"Not too bad I'd say, why?" Donovan inquired with a hesitant tone; he probably thought I would give him a store room full of broken enchanted armor and swords as his first task for the Brotherhood.
"Well you see, while I was out looking for you an… incident occurred that resulted in the damaging of an enchanted hat. I was hoping you could repair it so I wouldn't have to listen to the complaining of its owner." I explained as I rubbed my temples from a phantom headache I knew would become real if he couldn't repair the hat. At that moment Zany began to slink off to elsewhere. "Where do you think you're going Zany? Since it was your fault, any assistance Donovan may need: be it fetching an item or help with the repairs, you are to help him as punishment." I said with my disapproval of his actions in every word. As Listener, I had the authority to order him around and to punish improper behavior, and though he had not been here long- Zany was made very well aware of this. He grumbled something that sounded almost like,
"Yes Listener… you miserable Hagraven." but I let it slide, I would rather not start something with a new member; it was bad for business as well as my conscience. I left Donovan with Cicero's damaged hat and left for my room again. Hopefully Cicero had written his report about how he had recruited Zany, I would soon find out if it was on my desk or not; if not I may reconsider having Donovan repair his hat.