Ian, I was thinking of something new..... Options

[Lord Revan]

Well, for anyone who's read Revan don't worry I'm not abandoning it. I just decided to do a story on my actuel oblivion character. So I'm hoping you guys like it.

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Prologue: Vice and Graft

It was "happy hour" in the Flowing Bowl of Anvil. Most of the patrons were sailers on leave, "leave" in drunk sailer meant: take a break and get broke by drinking 'til you pass out. Beanlorn glanced around the crowds, and saw a familiar shape stride through the door.
Beanlorn knew the man and had even expected him. Ian did favors for certain people, and those people often did transactions in the Flowing Bowl. It steered some paying customers Beanlorn's way, so he kept quiet about the shady work going on in his establishment.

Ian spotted Beanlorn at the bar, and approached him. He casually dropped a pouch of coins on the counter, which Bealorn peeked into (he never was very subtle) to check that those were septims not some trash before he gestured to the rooms. As Ian stood in front of the 'wall' a board slid aside to let two eyes appear and make sure it wasn't some drunk Nord or something. The board closed again, and then a crawlspace revealed itself. The small meeting room, which was was illuminated by four blue lanterns in each corner, was occupied by his Argonian client and his two handmaidens.

Ian distained such flaunty displays of wealth and power (although he himself was a wealthy Imperial), but this was an Argonian, after all most were poor or only slightly rich. The client -Hurmun- squinted at him, with his lizard eyes. "Have you recovered to artifact? Or are you just wanting a chance to annoy me?" touchy little lizard, he thought. Reaching into his satchel, Ian removed a spherical humming rock. Yeah I got the sigil stone for you, Hurmun. Now do you have my fee? Or are you trying to waste my time?" Hurmun stared at the deadric artifact in his hands, then nodded at Ian. One of the Argonian maids brought a huge bag of gold, and handed it over.
"Now, Ian, I have a little matter that you can help me with before we depart." Ian furrowed his brow and frowned, "What would that be, lounge lizard?" Hurmun gritted his teeth (he did that when he was losing his patience) "A few of the bar patrons here don't want me to leave the inn.... alive anyway. I want you to.... dispose of these drunks." "Fine, but this had better be worth it." Then as an afterthought, he said "If you got gutted, it would be no skin off my bone -I have other clients"

Ian made his way down the stairs, there were four target he would have to kill: two Nords, an Imperial, and a Redguard. They were all leering at him, as he strode out the door. There weren't many bystanders on the docks, but the four brigands followed him out. He spun on his heel and unsheathed his elven shortsword, which was met by three cutlasses. The drunks were bigger and stronger, but they weren't thinking straight, and were clumsy. The commotion caused all the other patrons to come and watch in earnest. Ian held his sword loosely before him; the two nords tripped when they met less resistence than expected, and were caught between the hammer and anvil. Suddenly shouting came from the city gates and five guards charged toward them. The Redguard and Imperial, in a drunken frenzy, charged screaming at the watchmen, but were stabbed by the Anvil guard. Not eager to make a similar mistake, Ian sheathed his blade and set it on the ground along with his bow and arrows. "You have been found illegally brawling in the city limits, but you surrendered without conflict; that will be recognized by the judge, come with us...."

[Lord Revan]

Chapter 6: The Death of a Certain Soldier of Fortune........

The Argonian shooed M'Ragdar away and introduced himself. "Greetings, my newest brother, I am Tienava." Ian replied. "Hail, friend, I'm Ian." Teinava cocked his head and evaluated him. "Your obviously the family member who is wanted by Vecente Valtiera, follow me." And the Argonian lead him through the Sanctuary.

After climbing down two flights of stairs they arrived at a large, reinforced, wooden door. Tienava rapped loudly on the door, and it opened to reveal an incredible gaunt man. His pink eyes stared at Ian, sending a chill down his spine. This man is a vampire. Ian thought, shuddering.

The vampire seemed to realize Ian's discomfort, because he chuckled. "Ah, I can see that you've recognized me for what I am. Don't allow my...... condition to make you nervous. The Will of Sithis is greater then my needs a vampire." Ian clamed down a bit, but remained wary of the man.

Tienava excused himself and the vampire -Vecenta Valtiera- briefed him on his contract. "We've been employed to end the life of a former pirate, on his own ship and in the middle of his crew, it shouldn't be anything a child of Sithis shouldn't be able to handle." Ian nodded, Well, they haven't sent me to kill something innocent yet........ but they probably will soon.....

two hours later.......

The full moon made a beautiful reflection over the water of Lake Rumare, and like a siren's call, the sounds of the bay could lull someone into sleep if they weren't alert. The Marie Elena was moored to the stone docks.
The ship was a war galleon, maybe twenty feet from stem to stern, Tienava had suggested entering quietly through a custom-made balcony that probably connected to the Captain's quarters. Ian was inclined to agree with him on that, best to get in and get out as fast as possible.

Ian stood alone on the dock, he took a deep breath, ran at top speed and vaulted over the nine foot distance between the dock and the veranda. The planks were well mantained so they made not a flutter when Ian landed heavily on them. The door was locked, big surprise, he thought. He tapped the interior of the lock with his pick, testing its strength. Let's see four pings, so that means only four tumblers on this lock.

With consentration and patience born of years of iron hard disipline and training, Ian had picked the lock in ten minutes of toying with it, but hadn't even broken a single pick. The door slide open silently, this man's necessity for well-repaired doors and balconies is going to be his undoing..... Ian smiled to himself. There was a small dinner table covered with food and silverware, but Ian ignored it for now and focused on the inner room. The man lying in the bed snored loudly, and as Ian slowly advanced, turned out to be drooling on his pillow.

Sitting mere inches from the man's face, Ian slipped a poison out of his satchel and poured it into a nearby goblet. Once the goblet was filled to the brim, he cast a chameleon spell and clamped the pirate's nose shut. The pirate snorted and lazily sat up, he stared right at Ian, but became aware of a nagging thirst. Apon inspecting the room he found a small goblet, and threw his head back, gussling the contents down. He licked his wet lips, and stood there for a moment........ Come on, come on and die already......

As if on cue the man dropped his goblet and held his throat, making a choking sound and fell to the ground convulsing violently. He continued to thrash about on the floor for two minutesm before he suddenly became still. Ian moved closer and rested his hand on the captain's chest, and felt no thumping heart......