Neron, An assassin is hired to kill the Emperor Options

[Sir Radont]

Part I: Coin Bags and Tours

The two swords clashed together again but Neron was stronger than his young apprentice and he easily pushed her back. He was a skilled assassin, probably the best in all of Tamriel, or so the stories went. His face was known by a precious few, but his name was known by many. In his line of work it was good to keep his face anonymous while letting his name flow off the lips of many friends and enemies alike. This ensured that when someone needed a fellow citizen of Tamriel dead, Neron was famous enough to get the job, but secret enough not to be hassled by local authorities. When it came to murder he didn’t discriminate between Orcs, Bretons, Imperials, or even his own midnight blue skinned Dark Elves, he would kill anyone – for the right price.

His apprentice was also a Dark Elf. A slender female with long curly jet-black hair and a fire in her red eyes that he had not seen in many years, she was dedicated and it showed in the way she trained. Of all the apprentices he had had, she was the most promising. She usually accompanied Neron on the assassination missions, there is no better trainer than experience, but tonight he would go alone.

“Good, Valyas, now come at me again, faster this time”

He was showing her the art of parrying, something an assassin knows “just in case” because a good assassin shouldn’t need to parry, they should be in and out, unseen and unheard with a corpse behind them and a bright rich future ahead of them. Sometimes the target would be armed and alert or surrounded by angry guards so it helped to be prepared.

Running forward, Valyas stabbed at him with her steel practice long sword. He parried it by stepping to the right and swinging his sword up under hers then used the momentum from the swing to arc his sword over her head and bring it down lightly against her back.

“Your speed is good - what you lack is control. Never commit totally to a swing unless your chopping wood.”

Valyas nodded. Running at him again she swung from over her head, he parried again, this time raising the iron practice sword parallel to the ground to deflect the blow. Her blade slid down the length of his sword and, using the momentum from the swing, she spun around slashing at his legs. Jumping over the blade and landing lightly on his feet, Neron quickly closed the gap between them and put his sword to her throat as she was preparing for another overhead swing.

“Better,” he said, stepping back and sheathing his sword, “we’ll practice more tomorrow. I need to be ready for my job tonight”. This would be his most challenging, and therefore, most rewarding mission yet. If he accomplished this mission, no, when he accomplished this mission he would retire, Valyas would be ready to go off on her own, and he was getting a little too famous to be comfortable. If the entire province of Morrowind new his name today, then after tonight the entire land of Tamriel would speak his name no louder than a whisper - as if he was a divine member of the Tribunal.

A week earlier he had traveled to Vivec, the largest city on Vvardenfell, named after the member of the Tribunal that lived there. Stepping off the Silt Strider, he followed the dirt path to the Foreign Quarter, marveling as he always did at the size of the city. It was built out into the sea with only the first canton touching land. Each canton had three layers to it and each layer was slightly smaller than the one under it, giving the cantons a pyramid shape with flat tops. There were walkways around each layer with covered ramps leading up or down to the different layers. Each canton was 30 feet away from the next one and bridges connected them on every level.

Neron walked to the top level of the Foreign Quarter and entered a tavern. He preferred meeting in larger taverns to help preserve his anonymity. This one was packed full of people and the conversations all combined to make it difficult for anyone eavesdropping to hear anything worth reporting to local authorities. After stepping in from a sunny day and letting his eyes adjust to the dim light he scanned the crowded room. The owner and bartender was a Nord, Neron knew by looking at him that he would be armed and would make a formidable opponent if any patrons got out of line. He had short, brown, disheveled hair and green eyes that scanned the room looking for trouble. He wore a plain brown shirt and pants and was cleaning a mug with his powerful arms. The bartender noted Nerons entrance with disinterest and went back to cleaning the mug. Neron swept his eyes over the room one more time but couldn’t see any more potential threats; his employer had picked a good spot to talk this time. His name was Dranas, a fellow dark elf with crimson red hair that matched his red eyes. His dark blue skin was barely visible under the tattoos on his face and arms. Earlier in the week, Dranas had told him that he had a high profile assassination for him, someone high up in the Imperial ranks; it was the understatement of the century.

Neron sat down and wasted no time with pleasantries.

“So who exactly is my target?” Neron asked with a hint of boredom in his voice. He hoped this target was worthy of his skills, this line of work was getting to easy for him and he was growing tired of it.

Dranas quickly glanced around the room to make sure no one was eyeing them, then, leaning closer, he whispered the name to his assassin. Nerons face remained expressionless as his mind began forming a plan on how a mission this big could be accomplished.

“When do you think it can be done?”

“A week” he said after making some calculations in his head. Scouting the location would take a day, maybe two, and then he would have to get black “Dark Brotherhood” armor to blend into the shadows. He would also need scrolls for “mark” and “recall”, but that would be the only magic he would use for this mission. He prided himself in being able to accomplish missions without the use of an invisibility or chameleon spell, and the target he was going after deserved a fair chance more than anyone he had ever killed.

Dranas nodded his approval, “Good, you will be paid once I have confirmation that the target has been eliminated. Also, the Dark Brotherhood is sending a lone assassin to Balmora in three days to kill the leader of one of the great houses; you might want to check it out. And one last thing, when you go to Cyrodiil to scout the location look for a recruiter named Quintus, he’s a corrupt soldier and will let you tour the castle for the right price”

With a nod Neron got up, and picked his way through the noisy crowd to the exit. Outside he went straight to the edge of the balcony and looked over. Citizens of Tamriel were going about their daily lives, oblivious to what had transpired moments earlier. A plan had been set in motion that would shake the very foundations of Tamriel and Neron, master assassin, would be the catalyst to start the chain reaction that would end in the Imperial Legion leaving Vvardenfell.

Of all the races in Tamriel, he enjoyed killing Imperials the most. As a young dark elf growing up on the island of Vvardenfell, he had been taught to hate all Imperials, especially ones wearing the silver and purple colors associated with the Imperial Legion. To Neron, they were the oppressors, the enemy, and they deserved to be routed and run off the island. That wouldn’t happen as long as their leader, the imperial Emperor of all Tamriel, Uriel Septim, was alive. It was now up to Neron to kill him, and with the chaos that ensued the red-eyed dark elves would drive this pestilence from the island, drive them back to Cyrodiil where they belong.

The next day Neron took a boat to the mainland of Morrowind and found a caravan going to Cyrodiil. The Caravan came to a creaking stop three days later just outside the capital city, also named Cyrodiil. Neron jumped off, stirring up dust on the dirt road, and thanked the caravan’s owner for the ride. A 40-foot high impenetrable wall of gray stone surrounded the massive city. The wall was 15 feet thick with Imperial archers patrolling along the top, eyes out and bows in hand. A river lazily wrapped around the wall further fortifying the capital city.

Neron crossed the wooden drawbridge and entered the busy city buzzing with activity on a warm sunny day. Just inside the wall on either side of the road were barracks made from logs with black-shingled roofs. Past the barracks were various shops with patrons hurrying in and out buying and selling their wares. The main road went straight to the center of the city and ended at the archway of another massive wall. This one was half the size of the outer wall but was still wide enough to have emotionless, stone faced archers stationed on top. Neron made his way down the busy street to the archway. He passed through getting sideways looks from the guards stationed on the ground.

There was another log building immediately to his right, directly in front of him was the Emperors castle, an intimidating stone structure towering in the center of the city. Neron turned and walked into the log building that served as a recruitment station for the Imperial Legion. Inside, a man sat at a wooden table scribbling something on a parchment with a feather and ink quill. He looked up when he noticed Neron standing there. His head was bald and shiny and his brow was slightly wrinkled from age. Strong, piercing eyes were set into deep sockets, his armor was purple colored with a golden dragon on the breastplate, the pauldrons from his shoulders to his elbow were silver and he wore golden bracers on his wrists. A purple cape hung from his shoulders and rustled against his armor as he stood.

“Can I help you?” He asked, picking up the paper he was writing on.

“Are you Quintus?” Neron asked.

The soldier was annoyed at the lack of respect for his rank and replied, “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I came to tour the castle”

Quintus grinned inwardly at the thought of using his power to make this red-eyed ruffian leave, “I’m sorry, only members of the Imperial Legion or citizens that have business with the Emperor may enter, now if you’ll excuse me I have work to do”. He sat back down and began writing again.

Tossing a bag of coins on the table Neron said in an icy voice, “I have business with the Emperor.”

Quintus waited, drumming his fingers on the desk with a thoughtful expression on his face, before answering. “Well, in that case, please wait here”.

He stood, turned, and walked through a door behind him, cape rippling with each step. He emerged a minute later with another soldier wearing steel armor.

Quintus motioned to the soldier with his palm up, “This is Dragis, the newest recruit here in the Imperial City, he will show you around the castle”.

Quintus sat back down as Dragis and Neron exited. They made an immediate right and walked 50 meters to the castle doors. Dragis heaved the heavy oak door open with a creak and went inside with Neron in tow.The young soldier was overly friendly and showed Neron everything he wanted to see, including the Emperor’s room. He told him about the guards in the castle, sparring no detail as he explained their patrol routes and when the next guards went on duty. He was a trusting person and Neron took advantage of it.

When the tour was finally finished the sun was low in the sky bathing the city in orange light. Neron took his leave and walked back to the main gate of the city and found a caravan going back to Morrowind. From there he sailed to Vvardenfell to get his Dark Brotherhood armor. He found his prey sneaking around Balmora near the Great Houses, right where Dranas told him he would be. Neron paid the assassin with a knife to the back for his armor and snuck out of the city.

Now Neron sat in his well-furnished house in Seyda Neen with his newly acquired armor. Glancing outside he noted that it was time to start. He pulled the black cloth helm on to complete the Dark Brotherhood armor. The rest of the armor was cloth as well, not made so much for protection asit was made to sneak through theshadows undetected devouring any light touching it. He sheathed his short sword into the black cloth sheath and took out his scroll of recall. After reading the daedric runes on the scroll Neron disappeared in a blue flash, his mission had begun.

[Sir Radont]

Part II: Creeping Shadows

Neron appeared in The Imperial City accompanied by a brilliant blue light. He stayed crouched for a few minutes, listening and watching for any guards that may have noted his entrance into this dark ally. His red elven eyes noticed various patrons of the taverns meandering down the roads but they paid him no mind, he was shrouded in shadow, invisible to all but the most determined trackers and there were none of those looking for him tonight. The twin moons were full but thick clouds drifted through the night sky obscuring the moons and pulling the curtain on their light.

Keeping his back to the wall, Neron quickly moved in a crouch to the edge of the brick tavern he had teleported next to. He peered around the corner at the wall surrounding the Emperors castle; the guards were right where he wanted them. He crept up next to the wall, keeping his gaze fixed on the guards high above him. Leaping quietly up onto the tavern he immediately pressed his back to the wall and waited. If his timing was right there would be a guard change soon leaving him a small window of time to get inside the wall unseen. He was right, barely audible footsteps above him signified that fresh eyes, ears, and bows would replace the weary ones.

Neron turned and faced the wall. From his crouched position he shot straight up, grabbing the lip of the wall with his fingertips. It was an impossible leap for an average person, but this was no average person, it was Neron: Master Assassin and no mere wall would stop him from completing his mission. His strong biceps threatened to rip the tight fabric of his armor as he pulled himself up to get a better view of the guards. There were five of them, all had wooden bows in hand and full quivers on their backs. They wore light armor with swords strapped to their sides. As they gossiped among themselves about the latest rumors Neron took the opportunity to heave himself over the lip of the wall and dart swiftly across to the other side.

He wasted no time hopping over the battlements and, turning in mid-air, grabbed the lip of the inside wall. The black-clad assassin hung for a moment listening intently for any alerts—apart from the guards all was silent. Neron let go of the wall and dropped lightly onto the shingled roof of the log recruiting building like a silent, deadly, black raindrop. Moving quickly, he swung over the edge of the squat building and snaked his way to the wall of the castle. The stealthy intruder pressed against the wall as much as he cold as two heavily armored guards clanked passed none the wiser to his presence and the threat to their leader.

The front doors would be locked so he would need to find an alternate entry point. Not that a locked door would keep him out, but the front doors of the Emperors castle would be well guarded and the torches around it would make it impossible to get in unseen. On the front door his silent lock picks would serve as much purpose as a noisy battering ram. Neron scanned the wall and selected a small window about 10 feet up to make his entry. Creeping down the side of the wall glancing in every direction, he carefully made his way along the cold stone wall to the window.

It was another easy leap up to the window for the assassin. He pulled himself nimbly through the small opening and sat with his legs hanging outside and the rest of him inside looking at a long slightly curving torch lit hallway. It was a ten foot drop to the stone floor but Neron wasn’t planning on walking down with the guards. Not five feet above him were brown wooden beams spanning the hallway. They were spaced about seven feet apart and would make an excellent road for a highly trained and very acrobatic assassin.

Neron pulled his feet in through the window and pushed off the wall at an angle. He grabbed a beam and swung himself onto it without a sound. He now sat in a crouch high above the floor looking down from the shadows like a stone gargoyle. He leaped form beam to beam down the hallway—a deadly shadow closing in on its prey.


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Dragis was new enough to report every out of place sound and shadow in the Emperors castle. The rest of the soldiers assigned to guard the seat of power in Tamriel were veterans and had long since given up on actually seeing combat inside the castle. Not that they wanted to see combat, but anything was better than walking through empty corridors looking at the same stone walls day after day.

Dragis had seen a shadow moving high up in the west hall and was eager to report his discovery.
“Sir!” He said with enthusiasm to his commanding officer as he burst through the door.

What is it this time? General Darius asked himself with a sigh.

“Yes, recruit? What do you have?” Darius asked in a bored tone.

“I think we have an intruder,” Dragis explained excitedly, “in the west hall up in the beams.”

“Well recruit, if you find this intruder bring him here to me and I’ll move you up a rank to Spearman.”

As Darius leaned back in his chair he thought about posting guards outside the Emperors chamber but pushed the thought from of his mind. There is no intruder here, no one is THAT good.

Dragis saluted and exited. He was excited to prove his worth to the legion and have a chance to move to Spearman. It was still a long way off from Knight Errand but it was a start, he would be a knight someday.


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Neron was crouched on the last wooden beam of the hallway listening intently for any sign of a passing patrol before he alighted from the beam down to the floor. He was about to drop down when he heard a lone set of footsteps approaching. Moving to the end of the beam he looked down from his shadowy perch and watched as a guard moved through the hallway with a purpose. To Nerons surprise the guard started searching and scanning the beams that made up his highway through the hall. He wasn’t worried about being seen; the beam he balanced on was flush with the wall at the end of the long hallway and had ample shadows to hide in. The guard moved down the curved hallway inspecting each beam as he passed it, holding up his torch to cast more light towards the ceiling.

As soon as the guard was out of view Neron swung from the beam and landed softly in a crouch. A staircase leading up veered off to his right and the hall continued straight though with a shorter ceiling and no beams to hide in. Neron remembered the stairs from his tour with Dragis earlier and sprinted up them invisibly sticking to the shadows. The stars stopped at a hallway stretching to his left and right. The hallway ended in a library to the right and down the hallway to the left was a wooden door with a rounded top. The door would take him to the reception room of the Emperors chambers. Neron sprinted down the hallway to his left towards the door.

Quickly turning the doorknob and pushing it open he found himself in a medium sized room with a window letting in a square beam of light from the full twin moons now out of the cover of the clouds. The gray stone floor was bare except for a colorful rug in the center of the square room. The light from the moons illuminated a section of the rug and cast soft gray light on the walls leaving the corners of the room draped in shadow and mystery. He immediately crouched down after shutting the door and surveyed the room as his eyes adjusted to the light. His gaze was drawn to the door in the opposite wall 20 feet away, the target was on the other side, sleeping. Sweeping his eyes across the rest of the room, he noticed an unusual shadow in the corner.

Is that…?

Before he could finish his thought the shadow leapt out of the corner, pouncing on him, then flipped up and turned to face Neron bringing a short iron sword down on him. Rolling to doge the strike, he caught a glimpse of the assailant; it was a Dark Brotherhood assassin. Neron jumped up just in time to parry a swinging overhead blow from the assassin and pushed him back. He ran forward, stabbing at the black clad Dark Brotherhood member but he wasn’t fast enough. The assassin easily stepped aside as he swung his blade back across his body. Neron was ready; rolling forward the swing went over his body, this time he jumped up and charged the assailant. As the assassin stabbed at Neron he jumped, flipping over his enemy’s head he grabbed the cloth helm and pulled it off as he landed.

Turning to face the threat he was shocked to see his apprentice standing before him.

“Valyas? What are you doing here?”

She answered by sprinting towards him, sword ready. Neron blocked the overhead swing pushing her back again then ran forward for a strike of his own. Swinging diagonally from his right, the tip of the short blade managed to tear the fabric of her jet-black armor causing her to stumble backwards in an attempt to avoid the quick swing. She stabbed at him desperately as she was backing up; using this to his advantage, Neron swung the sword under hers and hit it with enough force to knock it out of her shaking hands, forcing her into a corner.

There was a wall directly behind her now and one three feet to her right. Neron was charging, sword up to deliver the death strike. Jumping straight up, she put her foot on the wall behind her and pushed off, over Neron’s head, towards the wall to her right. She planted her foot on the wall and pushed off again, turning to face Neron’s back. While in the air she pulled a dagger out of a sheath strapped to her thigh. Coming down behind Neron she planted the dagger into his right shoulder, purposefully missing his lung by only half an inch.

Neron crashed into the stone wall and slumped down, grabbing his shoulder as he turned and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. He was breathing heavily beneath the cloth helm as he gathered his thoughts, holding the short sword in his left hand. The door opposite him opened and out stepped an old, graying man. It was Uriel Septim, his target and Emperor of Tamriel. He was wearing Imperials steel armor and had an iron sword sheathed on his side.

The Emperor clasped Valyas on the shoulder “Well done, Valyas”.

“Thank you, my lord.” She said, not taking her eyes off Neron.

Valyas walked closer to Neron and bent down to look him in the eyes. She pulled his helm off and tossed it aside, his face was expressionless.

“I am part of ‘The Blades’, Neron, an Imperial spy in Vvardenfell. We are the eyes and ears of the Emperor in foreign provinces.”

Valyas kept talking but Neron blocked out her voice, she betrayed him and he would have to kill her, apprentice or not. Rage was building up inside him; starting in his gut and burning up through his chest and out to his arms. He tightened his grip on his blade and clenched his teeth.

Neron whispered the only spell he knew, Valyas heard it but by the time it registered in her mind it was too late. Neron’s vision went red; time seemed to slow down to a crawl as he jumped up. Just the exertion form jumping made him weak as blood continued to flow unabated from his shoulder. He had muttered a speed spell, one he kept memorized for times when he needed to make a fast exit. The only exit in the room was the window, sprinting towards it he saw Valyas move to block the window but she wasn’t fast enough. Neron was out and falling before she took two steps.

The assassin landed hard on his feet and rolled to absorb the blow from the fall. He didn’t have time to think, alarms were raised now and a large mass of angered and armed guards would soon be out looking for him. With the effects of the speed spell still flowing through him, Neron sprinted to the recruiting hut and leapt on top in a single bound. From there he managed to catch the ledge of the outer wall and hoist himself up. There were guards waiting for him with drawn bows, they fired, he rolled out of the way and threw himself over the ledge landing with a crash on the roof of the tavern. Rolling off the roof he stumbled through the alley and out onto a wide street.

His vision was blurring now and his steps were weak but he trudged on through the city with the commotion of the hunt behind him. Guards were running out from the gate in the wall now and would find him quickly. Neron cursed to himself for not bringing any healing potions. He noticed a round steel door in the road and bent down to open it. It was heavy and took all of his strength to heave the door open. There was a ladder leading into the canal works of the city. Neron descended the latter into darkness, closing the door behind him.