Rashelle And The Mad God, Tribunal fanfic Options

[blockhead]

This contains spoilers for the Tribunal expansion. I imagine this is no longer a concern since the expansion has been out for so long but I thought it would be prudent to mention it here anyway.

Unlike "Rashelle At Lokken", this one is an in-progress work, actually being written now. As a consequence the updates won't be nearly so often.

This story occurs before the events in "Rashelle At Lokken".

--
Rashelle And The Mad God
by blockhead aka pcc

Chapter 1. Dark Brotherhood


I knew it was not going to be a good day. Firstly, it was that time of the month for me and that is never a good time. Secondly, I was rudely awakened by someone who was trying to murder me in my bed.

His glass dagger had just rebounded off of my ebony cuirass. People think I'm nuts when I tell them I sleep in my armor. Situations like this are why I do.

An elbow in his face backed him off a foot or so and gave me time to give him a stiff kick in the usual place. It sent him flying away from the bed but apparently that strange black armor that he wore protected him there because he came right back at me.

I ran him through with Chrysamere. People think I'm nuts because I sleep with a naked claymore. Situations like this are why I do.

I got out of bed and searched the body. No keys. Some gold. No letters or other information. I examined the strange black armor. It was rather nice. I had never seen its like before, very light and flexible, yet tough. The deep blackness of it would certainly help any night-time stealthy activities. It was probably expensive as well.

If it were not for the fact that I don't like my sleep to be interrupted, I would welcome more attacks just for more of this armor.

I removed my boots and I tried the greaves on. They were especially nice. They went well with my Ebony cuirass yet were not hot like most armor is. Of late I had not been wearing any armor save for a cuirass and boots: Vvardenfell was just too hot to wear full armor. I was never cold; only warm or hot. I'm a Breton but there must have been Nord in my ancestry somehow.

I left the greaves on. I put my ebony boots back on. I went to the trap door and poked my head out. It was still dark out but I was too keyed up to go back to sleep.

I closed trap door and got myself ready to go.

Taking the helm and the body, I left my house.

A Hlallu guard approached me immediately. After playing 20 questions he eventually realized that I had been attacked, had lawfully defended myself and was only trying to dispose of the body.

"Couldn't you have waited until you left town before stripping it?"

"It's not every day I get attacked in my own bed. I was not aware there was a protocol involved."

Showing him the helm, I said; "By the way, you wouldn't happen to know who wears armor like this and likes to murder Bretons in their bed, would you?"

He informed me that the helm was that of the Dark Brotherhood. They were assassins. Apparently someone had put a contract out on me. Unlike the Morag Tong, the dark brotherhood would take any contract. They will kill anyone if the drakes were good: legality was not a concern.

He told me that Apelles Matius over in Ebonheart might know more about them. I thanked him and he retreated at speed: as if the dark brotherhood would slay him just for talking to me.

Not a great start to my day. I dumped the body just south of town and then went to the Mages Guild.

"Greetings, Rashelle, what brings you here at this odd hour?", said the Sharn Gra-Muzgob, who was manning the entrance as Greeter this shift.

"Hey Sharn. Nothing much: just a Dark Brotherhood assassin trying to murder me in my sleep."

"That's terrible - you killed him I trust?"

"Yes indeed."

"I trust you disposed of the body?"

"Yes; just now I dragged it south of town."

"Just now you did?"

"Yep."

She turned from me and summoned Galbedir, asking her to cover for her for "a few minutes". Then she scurried outside as fast she could.

Galbedir and I laughed: we both knew she was a necromancer.

I went downstairs and had them teleport me to Vivec. Once there, a cast of Divine intervention teleported me to the Imperial Cult chapel in Ebonheart. From there, it was a short walk to find Apelles Matius.

He initially seemed to doubt me but I showed him the helm and then he remembered that I was the Nerevarine and had some skill in matters pertaining to combat.

He revealed two interesting bits if information. First; the Dark Brotherhood headquarters was somewhere on the mainland, in the city of Mournhold. Secondly, despite the quarantine still in place around Vvardenfell from the Blight, a recently arrived Imperial Mage named Asciene Rane could teleport me there.

He led me to her and, after introductions, explained the situation to her. I thanked him and he left. She then teleported me to Mournhold.

I appeared in a blue room. There were flowers in the room; how did they grow indoors without sunlight? I turned and found myself face to face with an Argonian in expensive robes.

He sniffed and said "fresh game."

he continued. "Greetings, I am Effe Tei. I can teleport you to Ebonheart. You are in the Palace now, in the reception area."

"Thank you, I am Rashelle."

Effe Tei briefly explained the layout of Mournhold. The city was a circle, with the Palace in the center. The remainder of the circle was divided into four sections. The temple was to the south, the plaza Brindisi Dorom to the north. West and East were the Great Bazaar and the Godsreach areas.

Effe informed me that the city was actually built on top of the ruins of the the older city, some of which were accessible underground.

The goddess Amalexia resided in this city, as did the dunmer King Helseth.

In an alarmed tone he asked me; "Are you wearing greaves of the Dark Brotherhood?"

Perhaps wearing the armor of the Dark Brotherhood had been a bad idea.

"These? Oh no; don't be silly! These are padded Capri pants. They are all the rage over on Tel Aruhn. When I wear boots they are more comfortable. When I don't wear boots they let a lot of calf show."

I chatted briefly with a royal guard. His closed helm and closed mannerisms made conversation difficult and brief.

I decided to wander around the castle before going outside. I took the open doorway out of the room and soon found myself with a choice, stairs down or up. Thinking of dungeons, my natural instinct was to choose the down stairwell.

This resulted in my arrival at the Royal Palace basement.

Oddly enough, there were no guards here. I poked through some of the crates and other containers. I was tempted to pinch some salt rice but I refrained.

I found a trap door in the floor. Effe had said something about the Dark Brotherhood in the sewers below the Great Bazaar, not the palace, but I opened the door anyway.

I started to descend the cold slimy rungs of a ladder. I was in a large high hall. Along the center of the hall ran a channel with water in it. The air was moist and the scent wafting along it let me know that these were the sewers.

I paused, gripping the ladder, while my eyes adjusted to the darkness. There were torches here and there and some sort of undefined dim illumination. This area was as large as the Vivec canton sewers but, like everything else in Mournhold, was more ornate than its Vvardenfell counterpart.

A skeleton was running towards the ladder. With one hand I cast a fireball. Most undead are susceptible to fire so that was enough to take care of it.

I descended the rest of the way and stepped away from the latter.

To my right was a dead end. I turned left. The floor was tiled with maroon tiles that formed pretty patterns. Why waste time decorating a sewer?

A rat attacked me. I believe he hurt his teeth on my ebony boots. I simply stared down at him as if to say "who are you kidding?". He sheepishly squeaked and ran away.

Then I saw a skeleton in a hooded robe. That was new. It cast a lightning spell. My birth sign didn't handle it this time. It hurt but I was not in immediate danger so I waited. I wanted to assess the capabilities of this new creature.

The robed skeleton cast another one. And another. How much magicka did this thing have?

I was hurting now. Enough is enough. I quaffed a potion and cast a fireball. The robed skeleton hit me with a health damage spell but this time my birth sign diffused the spell and absorbed the magicka. I promptly used this to cast a larger fireball.

Robes burning, the skeleton collapsed to the ground. Pieces of bone fell into the water.

A memory from my magical studies came to me: I had just fought a lich.

I walked over and examined the lich. It was simply an animated skeleton with a robe, an iron longsword, and an iron shield. The most formidable thing about it had been the large reservoir of magicka.

I resumed walking. The sewer corridor turned to the left and entered a very large room. It was easily larger than a plaza in a Vivec canton, larger than a small village. In the center was a circle of pillars that reached all the way to the ceiling. Inside this was a deeper pool of water. Perhaps this drained into a lower level of sewers.

A goblin ran towards me. I had never encountered a goblin before but I had seen pictures of them in books.

He was a tough critter and he wielded a club that was sturdier than it looked.

As I was finishing him, a durzog attacked me. Again, I had not seen a durzog in Vvardenfell but I knew of them. Goblins often used durzogs as mounts and war beasts. Wherever you encountered one, you tended to also run into the other.

Getting tired of the water, I took an upward ramp out of that large room. This soon led me to a door labeled "Bazaar sewers". How convenient: this is where Effe said the Dark Brotherhood were located.

So I was now in the Bazaar Sewers of Old Mournhold. Ahead of me, the wide and tall passage continued and then curved left. From this came a bonewalker, already hurling Grave Curse spells at me. Another fireball finished him.

To my right was a second passage. I went right.

This passage turned left and down. At the turning was a Khajiit woman. An attempt at conversation yielded only "Ahnia does not know you, so Ahnia has nothing to say to you."

Perhaps the sewers were filled with madmen? I continued on down the passage. The ramp took me back down to the water level. Have I mentioned yet how much I hate water?

There was a ladder going up but I passed it for now. The next section of the passage was smaller and hewn from rock: no pretty tiles here.

I swam, following the passage as it turned left and down. I dove because I thought I saw something there on the bottom. I did: a skeleton who had apparently been slain by an arrow. There was a water breathing potion by the skeleton. The passage was a dead end so, swimming as rapidly as I could as I was running out of breath, I retraced my route.

I returned to the ladder, this time I ascended it.

I found myself on the surface, outdoors, somewhere in Mournhold. The morning sunlight shown on a rich array of blue architecture. Another reminder that I wasn't in Vvardenfell anymore.

While I had urgent business to attend to, regarding the Black brotherhood's misguided attempts to adjust my lifespan, I just could not resist the temptation to wander around here for a bit before returning to the depths.

Vvardenfell is a frontier. This was a city, a major center of government and commerce, and it showed. Everything had a polished and expensive look to it.

I walked around, chatting with people, even the ordinators. Ordinators are never chatty but I try to talk to them anyway. These Ordinators wore a different style of armor from the ones back in Vivec. The helm was the same but not yellow. The color was pastel violet instead. As with everything else in Mournhold, their armor was classier and snazzier than the Vvardenfell version. I was informed that I was in the Great Bazaar.

At some point I found a book store. It was with difficultly that I pulled myself out of there, a few hundred gold poorer.

I heard what sounded like a summoning spell. When one summons an atronach or other daedra, there is a certain characteristic sound. I turned towards the sound and saw two bursts of fog or smoke. The smoke fade away to be replaced by a Dunmer in a robe.

"Greetings, fair citizens of Mournhold. I am the great, renowned, respected, and feared wizard, Ovis Velas! In the coming weeks you shall see more and more of me, as I bring this city to its knees."

This didn't sound very promising. He had the attention of the people around me. I hoped this was some sort of advertisement for a sporting event but I didn't think so. I had a fireball ready and I placed a hand on my head, casually, as if patting my hair into place ... near the hilt of the sheathed sword at my back.

"But for the moment, " he continued, "allow me to demonstrate my power on one of your hapless countrymen."

He looked right at me. Figures. Always pick on the Breton with the black hair and the armor.

"You there! Yes, you, you ugly Breton, Prepare yourself to feel my wrath!"

He hit me with a fireball. I could have dodged it but I didn't want it to hurt anyone in the crowd so I just took it. My birth-sign didn't absorb the spell this time.

Already running towards him, I let fly my own fireball and drew my sword.

He hit me with a cold spell: standard technique: fatigue the target by alternating fire and frost. My birth-sign didn't absorb this spell either but I have always had this unusual Nord-like affinity to cold: the spell was a refreshing cool breeze.

I reached him and swung. He moved partially out of the way but he was not moving very fast so Chrysamere still bit.

He stumbled but still hit me with a nasty shock-bolt. This time my birth-sign absorbed and diffused the spell.

Enough: I stabbed him right through the heart. He had no armor under the robe.

As I kicked the corpse from my sword I mused that any chance of the Dark Brotherhood not being aware of me here on their home turf had just gone to zero.

I cast a healing spell on myself.

The hubbub of the crowd that had formed was cut through by an Ordinator rasping, "Nothing to see here, move along."

I walked away. I had lawfully defended myself so the Ordinators gave me no trouble.

A dunmer who introduced himself as Drathhas Reyes said to me "For all of his talk, you didn't seem to have much trouble dealing with him. Seems strange he was so weak."

He had a point there.

"You know, there is a Velas manor in Godsreach. Perhaps checking it out would shed some needed light on this mystery."

Yeah whatever, but I didn't say that. I nodded and walked on.

Back to the sewers: I now had to find the Dark Brotherhood before they found me. I descended, stepped off the ladder. I killed a rat and passed by the unfriendly Khajiit woman again.




EDIT: went a little too Conan (and not even good original Howard Conan, but Marvel-style Conan) for the next bit so I've taken it out for more editing. Also minor word usage & "flow" edits


This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 11 2007, 02:17 AM

[blockhead]

I cant believe I wrote this in such a short time! The story is almost writing itself now.

Edit: complete with it's own continuity errors - woops ... fixed

--
Chapter 5. Assassination Plot



I entered the throne room. My black hair and eyes, well-known sword and my particular combination of armor identified me as Rashelle the Nerevarine; no one tried to bar my entry.

Of course there were many guards in the throne room. Any attempt on my part to attack Helseth would not have been successful. As stated before, that was not my intent. My intent was to figure out what was actually going on.

The room fell silent save for the sound of my ebony boots on the floor. A guard darted in front of me and stopped me with a gesture.

"At ease, guard. We would give an audience to the Nerevarine. Permit her to approach us."

The guard stepped aside. I nodded to him and approached Helseth. I remained standing. He stood up.

He was a Dunmer, clad in rich robes. A crown was upon his head. He had a neatly trimmed goatee. His ears had been ... truncated: they were no longer pointed Mer ears but were now shaped like Man ears. Gold had been embedded in the flesh where the points used to be.

"Sire, why are your ears like that?"

That's me, all the court manners of an ogrim. One day this business of saying exactly what is on my mind without thinking first will get me into trouble. This time I got lucky: he laughed.

"It is a show of unity with the Empire, with the non-Elven races."

I nodded. Strange but it made sense in a twisted way, I guess.

I then noticed a look in his eye. I had seen that look before. Most men, even in these modern times, really do not approve of strong active women. They would rather we stayed in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant, while the men had all the fun. Many men will come to respect and appreciate strong women over time, but they essentially relate to us as if we were other men.

A small fraction of men, however, get weak in the knees when they encounter women who can swing a sword, wield an axe, smash with a war-hammer, be aggressive and cast spells. They get gooey eyed: they absolutely become enchanted with us.

Helseth was this latter type. Too bad for him; I was not at all interested in him in that way. Still, it would help negotiations.

From my pack I pulled out the insigniad Dark Brotherhood helm. I showed it to him.

He looked at it and his eyes widened. He had noticed the insignia.

"Why?" I asked softly.

"Some of our advisors had incorrectly indicated that you might have designs on our Throne. It was seen as necessary to prevent this. We can see now that this was a mistake on our part. You will not be troubled by this sort of thing again."

He seemed almost embarrassed. I gave him credit for not denying it.

I would never want to rule. Uneasy lies the one that sits the throne. Helseth could never go explore a Daedric shrine for fun. He could never simply wander in a market place. He would never be able to get away and watch the sun rise while seated on the roof of Scar in Ald'ruhn. He would always live in fear of assassination. He could never have even one moment alone. To be a monarch was to be a prisoner. That kind of life was not for me.

I felt sorry for him.

I believed him.

He handed the helm back to me. I placed it in my pack.

"We are concerned with a possible plot on our royal person and would like you to assist in this matter."

I nodded.

"Excellent. We would like you to meet with one of our agents. You are to use a code phrase. Speak to him of his uncle's farm. He is an Orc named Bakh gro-Sham and you will find him in the Winged Guar in Godsreach. Return to us with whatever information he gives you."

I nodded and departed.

Soon I was in the Winged Guar. I wondered if I should get a room here instead of teleporting back and forth to Vvardenfell every day.

Since there was only one Orc in the place it was easy to ascertain who I had to talk to.

I introduced myself and asked about his uncles farm.

He rolled his eyes.

"I yi yi! Enough with the dumb code phrases. Our boss is so paranoid: he drives me nuts, scurrying about after false rumors. He sees intrigues everywhere. He's a great guy but he really needs to switch to a weaker tea."

I snorted and giggled.

"However, Rashelle, this time he may be right: there is a plot. It is not directed at him though, no. It is a planned attempt on the queen-mother's life."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't know that she is here in Mournhold?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about."

"He sent you to test me, didn't he?"

I remained silent.

"OK. Look, Rashelle, it's like this: King Helseth's mother, the retired queen Barenziah, has recently moved back to Mournhold. She is an elegant, sophisticated and kind woman."

"Oh."

"I was not able to get any specific information. I do not know who is behind it or why they would want to kill her."

"Thank you, Bakh gro-Sham."

He nodded and I returned to the palace.

"This agrees with what information we have received from our other agents", said Helseth after my brief report.

Did he always refer to himself in the plural?

"Rashelle, if our regular guards were stationed in the Queen's chamber, it would alert the assassins. We do not desire that. We would like you to stand guard tomorrow night. That is when the assassins will attack, according to our other sources."

"I will do this."

"Excellent."

"You may wish to speak to her. She is in her chambers now and we believe she would like to meet the Nerevarine."

I nodded. He gave me directions and I went.

Like all Dunmer, she was taller than I am. I had met many rulers and authority figures but few had the poise and bearing that queen Barenziah had. I wished she were still ruling.

She offered me tea. We talked for a time.

"My son sees conspiracies everywhere. While a measure of paranoia is required for a king, I do hope that in time he will learn to tone it down to a reasonable level. He's a bit rash as well: he needs to work on that."

I nodded. The less I speak, the more other people speak and I found her very interesting to listen to.

"Have you met Plitinius Mero? He is here in Mournhold now. He wrote an unauthorized biography of me and was in some trouble from the Empire for it. I protected him from this and he has remained loyal to me ever since. He is truly an intelligent and educated man and he is a wealth of information on many subjects. You will find that he is one of the few trustworthy people around here."

She was essentially telling me to trust no one but her and this writer friend of hers. I'm sure everyone in the Court of Helseth would say similar things: "trust no one but me." Despite that, I found myself liking her. Perhaps she made me think of the mother I never had.

Still, "like" did not automatically mean trust.

That night I lodged at the Winged Guar.

I had all of the next day to myself. I started the day off by sleeping late. After that I was provided with a tub of hot water. It was nice not to have to make trips to and from the river. Some may wonder that, while I dislike water, I enjoy baths. The fact is that I dislike large water that one can drown in. A tub of water was another matter: it was small water. It was controlled.

I explored the city for a time. In Godsreach I saw my friend Salas Valor. He was grumbling to himself. That was odd behavior for an ordinator.

"Salas, are you OK?"

He growled for a second and then stopped.

"Oh, hello Rashelle. I am well, thanks for asking."

And I can sell you a bridge in the Azura's Coast region.

I had a bag of candied comberries that I had bought in the Great Bazaar: I offered it to him and he removed his helm and took one.

"Thank you Rashelle. So how are you today?"

"I am fine. I had a good night's sleep and yesterday I got to meet Almalexia."

"Her!" he said angrily and stormed off.

I made a mental note to myself to avoid speaking of Almalexia to Salas. That was very puzzling. It was rude of him to walk away like but I was too concerned to be offended: he was moody but he was still my friend.

Looking up, I could see that the sun had not yet reached its zenith. I had a lot of time to kill before my job tonight.

I recalled that distraught woman I had met in the sewers the other day: it was time for me to deal with the Black Dart Gang.

I found the ghost of Variner in a dead end of the Temple Sewers that I had overlooked before. I could distinguish him from other ghosts by the fact that he did not attack. I approached him cautiously and he began to speak. He identified himself as Variner and related his story to me.

I told him of my intention to deal with the matter. He cautioned me about the darts.

"One dart does a lot of damage, instantly. You look rather tough so two darts would be needed to kill you."

I raised an eyebrow in frank disbelief.

"Rashelle, you must believe me! These darts have heinous enchantments on them. Some of them have equally strong and fast-acting poisons. One hit for a normal person, two hits for you, and ... bam! you're dead!"

Variner told me what armor and weapons he had when he was killed. He related to me his skills and abilities. I was finally convinced. I would have to be careful.

He gave me directions and explained that there was a lever near a torch in a certain location. The lever was used for sewer maintenance: pulling it would flood the entire eastern part of the sewers without affecting the central part. This would kill the Black Dart Gang easily.

It was a long twisty walk, essentially north and east, from Variner to the door I wanted. Someone had scratched "temple sewers west" on it. This confirmed Variner's directions. Chameleon ring on and moving silently, I slowly eased the door open. I sneaked through the doorway.

Since one dart could take someone out almost instantly, I might not have time to take a healing potion. I needed to be very stealthy ... more so than I had been when dealing with the goblins. Focus Rashelle: move slowly, do not rush.

No one was nearby. I quietly closed the door behind me.

The sewer corridor rose up ahead of me and then turned right. Keeping to the left side, I followed it.

I was not going to use the lever. What if innocents were here? I was not the only adventurer wandering the sewers.

I recalled one such that I had seen the other day: a woman with short blond hair, Breton with a hint of Bosmer about her, wearing next to nothing. A metal hoop a hand-span or so in diameter had hung at her side. She had been armed with two odd-looking daggers. She had talked to herself constantly; pausing as if listening to an invisible companion. Obviously she was quite mad. A wave of sadness came over me as I remembered her. What had driven her to that state?

There were some strange people down in the sewers, but I did not want to kill them by mistake.

I reached the turn and examined some crates that where there. I found nothing of interest, just some plates and some clothing. The clothing made me think of Dilborn and I smiled.

At a maddeningly time-consuming pace, I continued to creep along the sewer. After a time it ramped down and then turned left and then left again.

I sneakily traversed a great deal of sewer and there were no goblins, no undead, not even any rats. Someone was keeping this area clean of creatures.

The sewer corridor curved to the right and I followed.

It turned to the left and then split. I looked to the left and saw two Dunmer. I didn't see any weapons on them but something as small as a dart I would not be able to make out in this light at this distance.

Were they Black Dart Gang, or innocents? I did not want to mistakenly kill a simple fellow adventurer.

"Hey there," I called out, "Are you the ..."

With alarming speed, two darts flew inches away from my head.

Right. That answered my question.

I cast a large fireball and darted back the way I came. I ran, weaving sideways in a deliberately random fashion so as to make it more difficult for their projectiles to hit me.

The only sounds were the clattering of darts to either side and my footsteps.

I was drawing ahead: good. I stopped to summon two atronaches and then dove to one side, behind a rock outcrop I had passed earlier.

I knew short work would be made of my atronaches but they would serve as a distraction: now the two gang members would not know exactly where I was.

I crouched behind the rock and began to drink Restore Health potions.

My flame atronach lasted a few seconds longer than the frost atronach. The two Dunmer approached.

At this point I had just consumed twelve potions and I expected that this would be enough to counteract even Black Darts. I leaped from behind the rock and charged.

Both Dunmer threw darts and as I swung my sword I could feel the poison's action. As my sword cut through the first Mer I could feel that my potions were counteracting the poison nicely.

The remaining Mer tried to jab a dart in my face. I kicked him away. He managed to throw one dart before I dispatched him. This one had a powerful fire enchantment on it, which my birth-sign dealt with.

I could still feel the poison working and I knew that the effect of my potions was about to wear off, so I cast a spell to cure poison.

A search of the bodies yielded a rather spiffy new collection of very deadly darts.

I suppose I had a feral grin as I examined some of the nastier darts. The rest of the gang were going to have a taste of their own medicine.

As stealthy as before, I resumed my explorations. I again reached the branching and I turned left.

This transitioned to a narrow cavern. I continued along this and it bent to the right. I spotted a Dunmer before he spotted me. Since I had already ascertained that this was Black Dart territory, I was able to silently take him down without hesitation.

I increased my dart collection and followed the cave passage. This entered a cave occupied by another Dunmer.

Using only one dart, I killed him. I found more darts on the body.

It took me a while to explore the whole area but there were no other occupants aside from those four Dunmer. I had gotten rid of the Black Dark Gang.

When I returned to Variner, he thought otherwise.

"There is one more. I can sense him. I think he is in the Temple Sewers East."

I opened the door to the Eastern area of the Temple sewers. The fifth member of the Black dart gang was only a few paces behind that door. He threw one dart and then another. Both bounced off my cuirass and I hit him with a fireball. A third dart hit me in the shoulder. Through an intense wave of agony, I cast another fireball. The fetcher had put both poison and an enchantment on this dart. My birth-sign had diffused the enchantment, but the poison was burning in my veins. I fell to the floor.

I slammed down a healing potion and then another one. My vision was dimming. I tossed back a third potion and a fourth.

That had been far too close.

Only then did I think to look around me. Fortunately my fireball had finished my attacker.

I headed for the Bazaar sewers.

Upon reaching Narisa Adus I told her what had occurred.

"They're... dead?" she gasped in disbelief. "You killed them? You killed the Black Dart Gang? It's... a miracle. Here. Please. Take this. Variner gave it to me -- it belonged to his family. I'm sure they all would want you to have it. You have my thanks, and the thanks of Variner's family, and his spirit, and all the victims of the Black Dart Gang."

I nodded and thanked her. I didn't want another ring but it would crush her if I refused it. It had an enchantment on it: one could use it to make oneself slightly more charming for a short time.

When I reached the surface I could see that it was sunset.

I had dinner at the Winged Guar and then went to the palace.

"... and keep this door bolted," I cautioned Barenziah.

"I will, Rashelle. Good night."

I blew out the candle and stood in the darkness. After a time, my eyes adjusted. Light leaking under the two doors allowed me to navigate the room. I moved to the corner I had chosen before.

I was now stationed partially behind a wall screen. This wall screen was close to the door that led to Barenziah's bedroom. The door on the opposite side of the room led to the rest of the castle. Assassins would have to enter though that door.

I slipped on my chameleon ring and waited. I was patient; I was focused.

After some time the far door opened. Three figures entered. They were dressed in dark brotherhood armor. Hadn't I gotten rid of them?

"That's the door there, then," one muttered.

"let's just get this over with, OK?"

I would think that real Dark Brotherhood would be silent during a job. These men had the voices of Imperials. Every dark brotherhood assassin that I had slain had been a Dunmer ... mostly male, some female, but all Dunmer.

I darted out and slew one with Chrysamere. The other two put up more of a fight. I dodged a jinkblade and turned to parry another. I continued my turn so that I spun around. Thus enabled me to kick one of them. He flew across the room.

A jinkblade cut into my arm. My birth-sign absorbed the paralyze spell and I ran my attacker through with Chrysamere.

I had not yet extracted the blade when the other assassin recovered from his flight. He sprang at me. I used the body of his late associate to block the attack.

I spun around and I kicked him in the chest.

Chrysamere finally free, I dispatched him.

I waited silently: I was listening to see if there were any more.

Nothing happened.

My arm was now really hurting. I took a healing potion. I cast Night eye and searched the bodies. There were no papers or signet rings or any other identification: just three dead Imperial men in Dark Brotherhood armor.

Just to be on the safe side, I stayed the rest of the night. There were no further attacks.

This post has been edited by blockhead: Apr 30 2007, 12:05 PM