Blood of the Kyn, Volume I Options

[Dantrag]

Well, after some unfinished stories and a long hiatus, I'm back in this territory of the forums. Not that anyone should care. Anyway, I hope you enjoy my latest creation.

Prologue

It was a dark night, and the rain fell in sheets over the town of Cheydinhal. Unbeknownst to the gate guards, a cloaked, shadowy figure climbed the stone wall on the other side. He sat perched on the wall for several seconds before jumping to the ground below, using the loud pitter-patter of the rain to cover the sound. Swiftly and silently he ran, clutching a package tightly wrapped in a gray cloth. He reached his destination in a matter of seconds, and after lifting the grate up, he descended into the darkness of a well.

He was welcomed at arrow point.

"I need to speak with Vicente," he said in an otherwordly voice from the shadows of his cowl. He turned his side to the woman in front of him, shielding his cargo should she decide to fire.

The archer, who was a Bosmer woman dressed in the typical black leather armor and hood of the Dark Brotherhood, fumbled for a response. Before she could give one, a hand from behind rested on her shoulder. Taleandril looked to see that it was Vicente Valtieri himself, the oldest member of their specific chapter of the Dark Brotherhood, due to his vampiric nature.

"Don't worry, Taleandril, I'm expecting company," Vicente said reassuringly. Taleandril gave the visitor one last glare before going about her business.

"Let us go somewhere more private," the vampire suggested, leading the way through the dark, damp corridors until they reached Vicente's quarters. There was no door or any other typical way of creating privacy, but the other assassins seemed to respect the vampire's space and gave him a wide berth. There was not a soul near enough to overhear anything that might be said.

"Kyzra, old friend! What brings you from Oblivion?"

"Trouble," Kyzra replied, removing his soaking wet cloak, revealing his black and red skin, horns, and armor that marked him as a powerful Dremora. He sat down at the small table across from the vampire assassin.

Vicente gave him a questioning glare. Anything Kyzra believed to be trouble must be dangerous indeed. The two of them had been through much together, though most of it had been a hundred years or more ago, and Vicente could not remember a time when the Kynmarcher had feared anything.

"I have disgraced the clan and insulted Lord Dagon himself. I will not live long, I assure you. Even my own armies have abandoned me, and my most trusted Kynreeve has taken my rank and title."

The vampire stood angrily, "You would bring an entire Dremora fiefdom here? Endanger me and my brothers and sisters?"

"You owe me!" Kyzra shouted, his booming Dremora voice echoing througout the halls. Just then, the bundle he carried made a sound. It cried loudly. Vicente's rage was put to a halt as he wrapped his mind around this new development.

"It is my son," Kyzra explained, "Half Dremora, half dunmer. I want you to take him; I cannot bear for him to die for my mistakes."

"That was your disgrace, then? A dunmer woman?" Vicente asked, sitting back down.

"She was only the half of it," Kyzra replied cryptically, "Will you take him?"

Vicente nodded, taking the infant from the Dremora Lord, "I will warn you, I am no parent."

"As long as he lives, Vampire, I do not care how you raise him. Just promise me one thing."

"If it is within my power."

"Never tell him my name, never speak of me."

Vicente nodded in silent understanding. Kyzra stood and began to exit.

"What is his name?" Vicente called after him.

Kyzra paused for a short moment, as if he had never thought of the answer to that question. "Azyrek," he finally said, "Azyrek."

He left the hideout without another word. Azyrek cried all night long.

[Dantrag]

Chapter 1 - A Bloody Message

Azyrek appeared as nothing more than a dark shadow as he made his silent way towards the luxurious Tiber Septim Hotel. It was past midnight and no one bore witness as he stepped inside. His heart pounded furiously as he crept upstairs towards the rooms. He wore the typical garb of a Dark Brotherhood assassin, a black leather suit of armor and a dark cowl pulled low over his face, hiding his unusual features. His skin was a dark gray with pointed markings scattered upon it, his eyes were dark orange, and though they were covered by shoulder length black hair, he had two small horns protruding from his forehead.

After spending the entire sixteen years of his life training in the dark corridors of the Sanctuary, Azyrek was eager to complete his first assignment with no mistakes. The contract was a complicated one, and Azyrek could hardly believe that it was being trusted to a novice.

His mission was to creep into the room of Llether Salam, a dunmer from Morrowind with a Morag Tong writ on his head. The Morag Tong was not recognized as a legal organization in any other country save Morrowind, but that did not stop them from chasing down victims across boundaries. They were also the mortal enemies of the Dark Brotherhood that Azyrek called family all of his life. Once in the room, Azyrek's assignment was simple; protect Llether and slay the Morag Tong assassin. Llether was lucky; the Dark Brotherhood didn't often send assassins to protect their clients. The Dark Brotherhood did not partake in unprofitable business, and therefore rarely wasted resources on protecting people. This particular contract was honored only because the Morag Tong was operating outside their legal area, and thus violating the latest agreement between the two guilds. The Dark Brotherhood was declaring war on the Morag Tong, and he was the bloody messenger.

Azyrek knocked softly on Llether's door four times, and was greeted by a frightened, exhausted old dunmer.

"Lie down on the bed as if you're sleeping," Azyrek ordered, still hiding behind his cowl.

"What now?" Llether asked after doing as he was told.

"Now you be silent and do not move," he answered gruffly.

Azyrek then put out every light in the room and sat down in a wooden chair sitting in the corner directly opposite the door. He waited less than an hour before he heard the clicking sound of a probing lockpick. Knowing his cue, Azyrek moved quickly and silently towards the door and hid to that when the assassin opened the door, he would be concealing his own killer with two inches of solid wood.

The door opened, and the Morag Tong assassin silently sneaked to Llether's side. Azyrek slipped out from behind the door and moved unnoticed behind. Azyrek's dagger made its way into his hand.

It just as easily made its way across the Morag Tong assassin's throat.

Azyrek let the assassin fall to the floor and watched only for a second as a crimson pool formed on the most expensive rug he had ever seen. In the assassin's lifeless hand was a crumpled note. Azyrek bent down and picked it up, stuffing it in his pocket as he stood back up and headed for the window.

Llether sat up, looking at the dead assassin with terror, "Vivec's Mercy!" he shouted, both in fear at the sight and relief in being alive.

Azyrek said nothing more to Llether Salam, as he had escaped out the window as soon as he was sure that the other assassin was dead. He landed hard on the stone streets and rolled his ankle, but he had so much adrenaline pumping through his veins at that moment that he hardly cared. His first mission was complete, and so far nothing had gone wrong. All he had to do now was get to the waterfront, swim across the lake to his horse, and ride back to the sanctuary in Cheydinhal. He would become a Murderer in the Brotherhood in less than a day.

About five hours later, at sunrise while riding his horse, Azyrek straightened out the note he had taken and read it. Under the Morag Tong seal it read:

We are watching, halfblood.

Azyrek's eyes widened in a brief shock, and he burned the note with a weak fire spell, shaking his hand vigorously afterwards to get the ash off. The Brotherhood did not need to know everything.