Corrupted heart. Options

[jack cloudy]

Alas, I couldn't wait for Agent to finish before I began my next story. Oh, curse me, all of you whose blood shall be spilled before this story comes to an end.

Ahem, I don't expect my loyal readers to complain though. Heh, I hope I managed to portray the first of my main characters nicely. And one last thing that might be interesting to know. This story takes place before the birth of Luper. So yes, that means at least 23 years before any of my other stories. Now, without further stalling I present:


Corrupted heart.

Chapter 1: Among the cold dirt, the fallen lie.

Consciousness flickered, remaining just out of reach. His senses delivered their messages to his clouded mind, broken fragments of a greater whole. The sound of heavy boots hammering cold rock, the smell of dust in his nose, the feeling of being carried in a boneshattering grip. A taste, plaguing the tip of his tongue. Blood, his blood.

The feeling of movement stopped. Words now echoed in his ears, words he did not comprehend.
,,This looks good enough. Open the door.” The shriek of rusted metal being moved ripped through the haze clouding his mind. Now consciousness returned fully and with it, a chance. For a moment, he continued to feign unconsciousness. Long enough to hear more words, words not meant for him.
,,You, don’t move unless you want even greater problems.” The hands holding him pushed him along. His tail brushed against iron bars. Now was the time.

With the frightening grace of a natural killer, his muscles sprang back to full readiness. He used the body of his captor to swing around, somersaulting into the air and landing on the unfortunate man’s back. With a quick swipe, claws ripped out the man’s throat and crushed his neck. Even before the man began to lose his signs of life, the killer had leapt away. The next guard found himself smashed against the iron bars of the cell. Claws leaving a trail of blood in the air where the last thing the man saw before his eyes were removed. He too died soon afterwards. The whole event had taken less than a second from start to finish.

Breathing heavily from both his exertion and the rough treatment he’d received earlier, the killer stared down at his latest victims. In a slow symbolic movement, he raised his claws and licked them clean of blood, savouring the taste. His ears began to pick up the sound of distant boots coming steadily closer. A standard patrol. His hand snatched the nearby torch from the wall and he slammed the piece of wood into a dusty pool of water. There was a large cloud of smoke and then, darkness.

Even though there was practically no light left, his eyes still saw as good as if he was standing outside on a clear day. He quickly scanned the nearby cells. The one which had been destined for him was already occupied by the short stature of a Bosmer. The one directly on the opposite side of the tunnel was occupied by a muscular Dunmer who looked around warily, not seeing a thing. The killer took a double take on the two beings. While the Dunmer displayed all the expected signs of fear, the Bosmer surprisingly acted as if she hadn’t noticed the massacre at all. She just looked at the ground in front of her bare feet with a blank stare.
,,Must have lost its mind so deep underground.” The Killer concluded. He knew from experience that many Bosmer were extremely claustrophobic and hated being in a room without any windows or underground. A natural result from living in the treetops of Valenwood.

The boots had now gotten close. Soon, the owner of these boots would see the darkness ahead and know that something was wrong. By then though, it would be too late. The Killer crouched at the edge of the darkness, confident in the natural camouflage he had. Now the guard ventured into view and the killer’s heart skipped a beat. This was no guard. The fingers of fear reached out for him, embracing him with their cold touch. It was a feeling he hadn’t felt since childhood. The darkness in the tunnel was vanquished by a bright burst of light. With that same burst, the light in his eyes faded and he slipped into unconsciousness once more.

An armoured boot stomped on the ground beside his head.
,,You’ve missed your chance. Enjoy the blood you’ve claimed. They were your last kill.” A gruff voice said as the killer was picked up and taken to his cell.

[jack cloudy]

A shadow walked into Cheydinhall, unseen by any of the guards. The shadow dropped down from the wall and moved quickly towards what looked like an abandoned building. He knocked three times on the door. After a long waiting period, a small hatch opened at eyelevel and two red eyes peered at him.
,,What’s the colour of the night?” The eyes asked.
,,Sanguine.”

The door opened, allowing the shadow to enter.
,,Ah, it’s you, Ra’trith. How did the hunt…..” The doorkeeper slumped to the floor, blood dripping out of the hole where his heart used to be. Ra’trith squeezed the still beating organ dry of blood before placing it back in the gap.
,,The night is coloured sanguine with your blood, Brother.” He whispered.

Without warning, a dagger stabbed into his shoulder, releasing its vile poison into his blood.
,,Ra’trith, what do you think you’re doing?” A stern voice asked him. The Khajiit backed up into the doorframe where he could keep his opponent in front of him.
,,Taking care of business.” He snarled. The man who’d attacked him put away his dagger.
,,You mean the traitor? I’ve already met him days ago and taken my measures. There’s no need to kill the whole sanctuary. Sheath your claws.” He said, revealing unnatural fangs in a mad grin.
Ra’trith refused to sheath his claws. Not because he didn’t trust the vampire, but because he never sheathed them no matter what the situation was.

,,You did kill one of your Brothers though. That cannot go unpunished. Normally, you would be marked for death. You’re a rare asset though so I’ll have you redeem yourself through the spilling of blood. The details of your mission are pinned to the wall in the armory. Get yourself prepared.” The man continued and turned his back to the assassin, becoming one with the shadows once more. Ra’trith watched the vampire’s back.
,,As you wish…..master.”

He walked into the armory and wasted no time getting ready. He took a small chest from a rack and opened it. Inside, an Ebony dagger of sublime workmanship lay wrapped in the finest red silk. The Khajiit eased his fingers around the hilt and let the torchlight reflect on the blade. A Blade of Woe was a weapon unique to the Dark Brotherhood. It came in multiple sizes and a variety of shapes, each individual weapon was tailored to fit its owner’s hand perfectly. With a keen edge and a care that bordered on religion, the Blade of Woe was always ready to kill any victim efficiently. Most blades were unenchanted, and only the highest ranking members of the Dark Brotherhood and a few exceptional assassins had theirs enchanted by the Night Mother herself. Ra’trith’s blade belonged to those few that were enchanted.

He rarely used it, preferring to rip his victims apart with his claws instead. Some people had called him a mad beast before because of this habit. They’d all paid for that insult with their lives. This time however, the vampire would not forgive him if he didn’t take to the job like a real Dark Brotherhood assassin. Apart from the dagger, he also picked up a new outfit of light armour and a cloak, all coloured a pitch black that matched his fur. He’d lost his own set when he got dragged off to jail after his failed attempt at assassinating the emperor.
,,Next time will be different.” He vowed.

He made a quick stop at the dining hall to grab an apple from a basket. He hadn’t been able to eat since killing Derin Horse-Mouth. He brought the fruit up to his mouth and sniffed. With a swift movement similar to the ones he used to kill, he threw the fruit at the cook’s face. The apple hit with a wet smack.
,,I’ll let it slip this time. Next time you try to poison my food though, you won’t live to see the next day.” Ra’trith warned and headed out of the door.

The doorkeeper had already been replaced. The new one was quick to open the door for the one who killed his predecessor. Outside the sanctuary, the Khajiit scaled the wall and sat down on the roof of the building it was located in. There, he unwrapped the notice.
,,Target: Revarim Kendri. A Redguard of around 60 years in age. Wears a worn robe of a brown colour. Target can be found at Cyrodiil, Plaza district. Sells carved statues made out of wood. Target is unarmed. Payment for execution is 5000 septims.”He frowned as he tore up the piece of paper and let it be carried away by the wind.
,,5000 for an old man who can’t even defend himself against a fly? That no one else has already taken the job. There is a bad smell about this. I’ll have to be careful.”