Murderer's Row

Loading Screen… The Crimson Dirks are a new guild, a merger between the Dark Brotherhood and the Thieves Guild…

~Q~Q~

Crystalline structures were infused with the arboreal, mountainous landscape, short green grass, a shimmering lake with a tall, rooted tree and rolling hills with pink rose hedges. The transport rested in a glade at the opening of the Colovian Highlands. Ayleids ruins dotting the area. Jenassa, the slaves, and her crew had set up pots and pans over various fires and were cooking something that smelled like tomatoes. A few cats trailed over the clearing, chasing a rogue mouse.

"Mouse-face, look it's your kinsmen!" Gwendal burst into an ugly guffaw.

And Yeshur said this is the guy who's gonna help many people?

Gwendal settled down and took a bite out of a golden apple, chewing it vigorously it seemed.

Stesha conjured an idea, "Gwendal Opal? More like Gwendal Apple. Get it, Apple-Opal."

"Don't try to be me." Gwendal threw him a flat-faced stare.

"You should be executed," Malborn Marques, a Bosmeri slave told Stesha.

Everyone was resting up, drinking some wine or mead. The area was naturally green with uncapped bottles of alcohol loitering around as some slaves sang merrily or played board games. A few of them brewing away on hearty stews in the makeshift kitchen. Aela took a big swig of her drink as Hadvar laid back against a boulder, his back in a cast. It seemed Jenassa was in a charitable mood.

"Aela." Gwendal emptied his glass of wine into his mouth before pouring more. "Why did you leave Skyrim?"

"I was a part of the Fighter's Guild," she answered. "But all we'd do was take contracts for coin. There was no meaning behind any of it. So, I left. Skyrim used to have its own league of great warriors from Ysgramor's time, but they got absorbed into the Fighter's Guild eventually."

"All that only for you to end up in an illegal slaver's ring." Gwendal mock pouted.

"Well, what about you three?" Aela rubbed her lower lip. "What's your story?"

Hadvar coughed. Everyone's heads swiveled to look at him. He'd barely spoken since Elinhir. "We were wrongly accused of selling skooma. So, we had to flee. Dealing in illegal substances is a country-wide offense in High Rock."

"Mmhm," Stesha nodded, glitzing the scenery out of the corner of his eye.

"And so, after Martin Guice's sacrifice there has been no dragon-blooded emperor on the Ruby Throne since," told a gleeman to a group of younger slaves. "Martin was the descendent of Saint Charlamagne Guice himself, the most recent Dragonborn."

"Where is Saint Charlamagne now?" Asked an Orc slave.

"Why in Aetherius, with the other gods!" The gleeman pointed a finger toward the sky.

"Do you think Saint Guice will ever return here?" A young Dunmer slave questioned with an upturned frown.

"Perhaps, who knows for certain though." The gleeman shrugged, scratching his white eyebrow. His name was Viarmo Clenrim if Stesha recalled correctly. A High Elf.

"Will there ever be another Dragonborn?" Malborn posed cautiously.

Viarmo grinned, playing a few strings on his lute. "Some say that one more Dragonborn will come, just one more. But you ask me, that sounds like hogwash. No need for anymore Dragonborn in this day and age. Charlamagne was all the Dragonborn the world ever needed, and he set us on the right path. Another one'll just mess it all up."

Aela emptied her drink, burping. Gwendal laughed at her; half stooped in his own stupor. She punched him in the shoulder. Malborn slid in between them, collecting empty cups and bottles onto his tray. The sound of flutes and tambourines drifted through the air with the smell of stew. A few of the slavers were musicians it seemed, having joined Viarmo's lute playing. Jenassa was nodding her head and conducting her fingers, eyes closed.

"That Khajiit caravan had a great sale!" Rufus mentioned to another janissary.

Stesha poured himself some of the broth in a wooden bowl, sitting back down and scooping up the marvelous soup with a spoon. Aela copied him and brought some to Hadvar, which made the injured Nord blush cherry red. The tomato soup melted on Stesha's tastebuds and streamed pleasurably down his throat.

"Tell me about your past, boys," Aela asked.

"Well, I grew up in Wayrest, but Lover Boy and Mouse-Face here grew up in Wind Keep together. We met as kids since our parents were friends and often visited each other. We attended different schools since we had differing interests, but we all became couriers after graduating except Hadvar, he became our guard. It was intended to just be a temporary career before we sought ones that our schooling was geared towards. I'm interested in magic, Hadvar being a soldier, and Stesha in the arts," extrapolated Gwendal.

"Wow, you three are close as kin then." Aela's red eyebrows shot into her hair.

Soon enough they were all on the road again, following the procession of horses and carriages that slowly rolled down the forest road. The trees grew in density as the Great Forest swarmed into existence. Woodland critters inhabiting the view. A few bandits scurried off when they saw the small legion of janissaries guarding the slaves. The steeds had saddlebags and harnesses strapped over them with the remainder of food. Jenassa rode in front in her covered carriage. The woman had procured the horses and caravan from Elinhir's Pharoah. The trees varied from pine to spruce to oak and maple with thick trunks and cone-shaped tops. Dark green leaves and vines hanging off them. A few sloths playing in the branches. Stesha and Gwendal chatted about various things while Aela walked Hadvar.

Chorrol had high platinum walls where guards could walk on, inside armoured castles with fortifications and gates. The stilted little hovel where the slaves were kept was another farmhouse, this one smaller and full of hay on the ground. Located outside the main city entrance. Stesha curled into a ball in the corner and fell asleep.

"They will slither from where no one even knew and dance in the space in between. The space no one looks at, the ones everyone ignores, the people they overlook. And their champion will bring the world to its knees with a deadly virus. If you think you can escape, you have only to look at the space in between. The space no one looks at, the ones everyone ignores, the ones you overlook. That's the ones… the ones you arrogantly forgot," said Seracles. "Soon all of Skyrim will remember, and soon all of Tamriel will see. They who were forgotten. And when the world remembers, and when the world shall see. That world will cease to be!"

Stesha rubbed his head as he woke up, turning over and seeing Gwendal snoring while Hadvar laid in hay, having fallen asleep in Aela's arms. There was a rat near Hadvar and Gwendal which Stesha kicked away then stood up and ambled out of the barn, nodding toward the janissary on duty as he passed the hovel next to them and went towards the wishing well. He drew water out of it and washed his face as Jenassa came rushing out of the main gate, lifting her skirt so she could run.

"You!" She pointed at Stesha. "I need you. Wake up your friends!"

Stesha bit back a chagrin grin. He waltzed back into the small shed and patted Gwendal who woke up instantly. Hadvar on the other hand took a minute, still hissing in pain as he was held upwards. The Skyrimese tended to his wounds.

"What's going on?" Hadvar limped towards the entrance. A few of the whip slashes had hit his leg it seemed. On top of that the Nord's beard had fully grown in, Stesha took note.

"Jenassa needs us," Stesha expressed, playing with his braces.

Once they were outside the Dark Elf interlocked her fingers. "There's been a murder. You three were helping the Sultan Jahl, yes? Well, I need you to aid Countess Drusilla Valga with her investigation."

"Why aren't the guards doing anything?" Hadvar groaned.

"They are but I thought I'd help as well. And by I, I mean you three." Jenassa smirked smugly.

They all collectively sighed. "Who died?" Stesha bit back the urge to rock his fist into Jenassa's smug face.

"The Countess' advisor, Aquila Vestal."

Stesha, Gwendal, and Hadvar progressed through the streets of Chorrol next, passing by the Fountain Gate where there was a statue of the Saint of Sancre Tor inside a pool of water. The statue was holding the saint as they fell in their arms. Two inns, a smithy, windmill, and a few cottage-like homes passed them by. They came upon the arched gate that led to the castle courtyard and staggered through, several guards keeping their eyes locked on them. - Castle Chorrol was made of bland coloured stones with mauve banners draped over the entrance. The boys entered with a nod from the praetors, garbed in red sashes over silver armor. There was a flawed varla stone on display in the crevice while the throne sat at the forefront, beige stairs on each side leading up towards the second floor. Angling and connecting at ninety degrees.

The body of Aquila was lying in the center on the red mat, guards all around while the captain was examining it. There was a shuriken lodged in the corpse's neck, Stesha observed.

"You're Jenassa's helpers, yes? I'm Captain Augustus Vulcan." The tan skinned Imperial shook each of their hands.

Helper?

The captain wore plated armor with purple sashes and a gladius, a red and white sideways mohawk sticking out of his helmet.

"Pleasure to meet you." Nodded Hadvar three times. "What can you tell us about this?"

"Well, the shuriken that was thrown at him was done by an expert. It was angled in a way that could only have been done by a pro." Augustus pointed toward the throwing star.

"What motivations would someone have for murdering Vestal?" Gwendal rubbed his hairless face.

"I mean the number one suspect would be Romulus Nero since he's behind Aquila in the rankings of the castle, but there's no proof he did it either." Augustus used a napkin to blow his nose.

"Is Romulus an aficionado in throwing weapons?" Stesha gave Augustus a flat stare.

"Well no." The captain stared away.

"Where is he?" Hadvar peaked around the room, and so did Stesha, observing the beige patterns of the walls and various art portraits hung up around the circumference.

"He's in his room, first door on the second floor down the hallway." Sniffed Augustus.

Stesha and the boys climbed the red-draped stairs and filed down the hallway. They knocked on the wooden and pastel door to their left and waited. It gently opened and a pudgy Imperial with a combover stepped out, wearing some sort of ridiculous kilt.

"How may I be of help to you fine, young specimens." Romulus was eyeing them up and down with a greediness in his hazel eyes. "Perhaps you would like to come in, help yourselves to some tea?"

Stesha shook his head. "We just need to ask you a few questions."

"Where were you when Aquila was killed?" Hadvar inquired right away.

"Ohh, let us see. Hmm, I suppose I was in the kitchens, helping the cook prepare his meals. I do love making new recipes as a pastime." Romulus licked his lips while staring at Hadvar.

By Akatosh this guy's a creep. But I don't think he's the killer.

"Did you see anything suspicious then?" Hadvar crossed his arms.

Romulus put his finger on his chin. "Now that I think about it, there was a tall man in white leathers hanging around the castle at night."

The trio looked at each other. "What did he look like?" They all spoke simultaneously.

"Don't know, he wore a hood. Maybe check around the castle at night." Romulus leaned on one hip.

"Thank you for your time." Hadvar slightly bowed his head.

"Oh no worries. Please come by again." The Imperial winked and they all shuddered.

The trinity paced back down the walkway, leaning into each other. More portraits on bland walls and ornate ceramics on stands overtook their view.

"Okay so let's wait till midnight and come back around the castle, maybe the killer will return." Hadvar cracked his neck both ways.

"Sounds good," agreed Gwendal as they approached Augustus.

"Captain, we're going to hide out in the rosebushes tonight. We have reason to believe the killer will return to the castle courtyard." Hadvar patted the Colovian on his shoulder.

"Very well, I'll notify my guards to stay out of your way." Smiled the guard.

"Gods damn Jenassa. I can't believe she thinks she can just dump whatever dirty work she wants on us." Gwendal crunched his knuckles as he crouched down under the bush. Hadvar and Stesha got in position alongside him.

"I wonder what her past was, to lead her to wanting to become a slaver." Stesha boredly stared at the weeds in the ground.

"That famous Dark Elf slavery." Gwendal swung his arm in a cupping motion, giving Stesha a thumbs up.

Night encroached as Masser and Secunda reappeared in the sky. Stars lighting up the firmament. A bright figure entered the castle courtyard, white boots crunching the earth beneath it as the guards dozed on. Stesha squinted to make out the individual silently padding towards the castle. In daylight white armor, forged from light with a hood and face mask covering its visage. Where Seracles dressed in all black, this particular figure was garbed in all white. The boys came out around the rosebush and confronted the mysterious man. He instantly threw a throwing star over their heads, embedding it into the stone wall behind them.

"Why did you murder the Royal Advisor?" Hadvar puffed up his chest and clenched his fists.

The man assumed a calmer position. "Youngsters," he intoned in an electric voice. "I am the Nightingale, and I seek retribution on evildoers." The Nightingale pointed towards the castle. "Aquila Vestal was in league with the Crimson Dirks, an organization in Skyrim that is a new merger between the Thieves Guild and Dark Brotherhood. Aquila was planning on assassinating Drusilla and her daughter, Demeter, so he could rise to the throne. Then, he was going to setup an outpost for the Dirks here."

"How do you know all of this?" Hadvar bravely asked.

"Because… I'm one of the Crimson Dirks. I plan on taking them down from the inside," the vigilante declared.

"Why come back?" Stesha scratched his nose.

"To make sure the job was finished. Now, stay out of my way. This is your only warning." The Nightingale then stalked off, his muscular back popping beneath his armor.

The trio retreated back to Jenassa. The Dunmer was staring at the bark covered ground in thought as they arrived.

"So, what did you learn?" She looked up at them, studying their faces.

Hadvar swallowed. "We couldn't find him."

Jenassa narrowed her eyelids, her red eyes peering into his skull hard. "I haven't been alive for over two hundred years to not know when someone is lying, Hadvar Liox."

Stesha breathed and stepped forward. "We found him but he's… he's some sort of vigilante. Way too strong for any of us. He killed Aquila because he was planning on killing Drusilla and Demeter."

Jenassa's hard stare calmed a little. "I see. Very well, get some sleep. We shall leave first thing tomorrow. I'll inform the Countess."

The next morning, they rode on throughout the black road down through the Great Forest and its towering trees toward the Imperial City. Stesha gulped when he remembered why they were going there, to battle a wyvern. How the Imperial soldiers managed to capture and contain a beast like that was beyond him. Stesha sighed a deep sigh. I walk towards my death. Even the thick green forestry couldn't block out the gleam of the White Gold Tower and its Ayleid-styled colonnades. The entire city was shaped like a ring atop the Imperial Isles.

Stesha drudged on. He was so sick and tired of walking. Ever since they left Wind Keep on that fateful morning it had been nonstop walking. When would it end? He forced himself to pick up one foot and plant it in the ground ahead of the other, and he kept doing that until the repetitiveness of the motions entranced him and he forgot he was in pain. Hadvar was allowed to sit in the carriage this time, considering his limp. Aela sat with him, discussing gods knew what. Even Gwendal was dragging his feet over the paving stones.

Stesha saw some mushrooms growing beneath the giant green trees and tall grass that whipped and whacked in the wind. Wonder if those taste any good.

They exited the last array of woods and came out into rolling hills with ruined forts and Ayleid ruins. The Imperial City lie ahead and an oncoming battle with a wyvern…

~Q~Q~

A/N: I apologize for the chapters on end of endless traveling and what probably feels like filler. There will be no more of that going forward. The reason it was here in the first place was because of a pacing issue I was dealing with when originally writing this story. But I fixed it, and the story progresses without stagnation or slog henceforth. – In other words, we'll be in Skyrim very soon and plot will be gaining momentum. Please leave a review. So, I wanna say for those of you who have played the creation club mods, you may know of the Crimson Dirks. Well, they will appear in this story but not as the bandit guild they are in game. I'll instead be stealing the name to use as the new name for the merger of the Dark Brotherhood and Thieves Guild that I'll be exploring later on in this fic. In this world the DB and TG join forces and rename themselves the Crimson Dirks. While the original members of the CD from in game are gladiators in the arena.