The Dark Brotherhood: A Listener's Tale, The tale of what it takes to become the merciless Listener of the Dark Options

[allshallfade]

This is a fanfiction that I started over a year ago as of last month, and it is something that I am still working on today. It's basically the storyline of the Dark Brotherhood, told from the point of view of a cold-hearted woman who enjoys nothing more then to kill. I know that the plot is not original, but I feel that the character's thoughts and emotions, along with her interaction with other character's, sets it apart from the blandness of the plot. Anyways, I know it's long, but please, just bare with me!

If you read and review, I can't thank you enough- it really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: The Old Woman and the Cottage

I killed the old woman. I don’t know what made me do it; I still can’t understand it to this day. I suppose that this is where my tale starts; where my life gets interesting. Oh boy, does it get interesting. And I don’t generally mean that in a good way. You’ll see. I had been hunting down up North, by the Nordic-fashioned city of Bruma, when I felt a presence nearby. I guess you could call it a sixth sense. I crouched down, bow in hand, and slowly crept over a small hill. When I reached the top, I saw a little cottage nestled in the mountains, with a patch of flat land serving as a single person farm. An old woman was there, working in the farm, raking down new rows for what looked like fresh potato plants.

How could I know then that this house would be the location of so much pain and misery in my future? Looking back, I wished that I had simply turned around and never glanced back. However, my instinctual curiosity, useful in so many aspects of my life, was my downfall here. I sat to watch the woman, mystified, as I hadn’t seen a human, elf, or beast race for nearly a week. I had become a rather solitary being, making my living off of the land, sleeping where I felt it was safe enough, whether it be cave or slab of rock.

Squinting against the setting sun, I saw the woman’s graying hair and wrinkling face, her movements obviously displaying the aching and grinding of her old bones. After a moment of her work, she straightened, shielding her eyes from the sun with a callused hand. She must have decided that it was enough for the day, as she collected her supplies and headed toward her thatched-roof cottage in the slow, shuffling, achy pace of the elderly.

I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but I suddenly had the overwhelming desire to kill the woman, to drive my dagger into her flesh. I felt a sudden…rage at her, such inexplicable anger that I needed to act upon. I’m not sure if my fury was against her, or against the world. But at that moment, all the feeling I had in me was focused on her. I have had such urges before, to strike, to kill, but always in public, surrounded by many. My impulses had always been controlled by necessity. Now, however, I was in the middle of nowhere. I guess that’s the reason I couldn’t stop myself.

And before I knew what was happening, everything around me became silent. Time seemed to slow as my senses were heightened. Her breathing was a slow, rhythmic rasping in my ears, and an eternity seemed to take place in the dull thudding of two of her footsteps. I started to feel faint as I tried to control the desire to stop the noise of her footsteps, to eternally end the sound of her breath. I was fighting a loosing battle. After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality were seconds, I had put my bow on my back and was reaching for my dagger.

The sound of my dagger sliding out of its sheath was intoxicating; it made my lust for the kill even stronger. I started to creep toward her, my worn leather boots padded against the ground as I silently trod upon leaves and twigs. As I grew closer to the woman, my pace increased, until I was nearly sprinting at her on bent legs. My heartbeat was like a war drum, pounding out a fast steady beat, making my head felt like it was going to explode any second. It was overwhelming; I had to end it. When I was within yards of the old woman, I stood straight, getting into a full-out sprint at her.

She didn’t hear me until I plunged my dagger into her back. With a choking gasp, she spun about to face me, her eyes meeting mine. I saw them fill with a fleeting look of surprise, before quickly turning to one of intense pain and fear. However, her pain did not last long, as I leaned behind her and yanked my dagger out of her back, and slitting her throat in one smooth motion.

She crumbled to the floor on her very own doorstep, breathed her last gasping, gurgling breath, and became eternally still. I stood over the dead body for a moment, panting slightly. Once my heart rate had started to slow, and my senses seemed to return to normal, the reality of what I had just done crashed into me, physically staggering me.

My eyes widened, and I slumped against the side of the cottage. I still held my dagger, glistening in the fading light. It was smeared with a line of blood, dripping noiselessly to the ground, joining the pool of red liquid forming steadily at my feet. Staring at her motionless body, I felt a strong mix of emotions. First, I felt disgust in myself, but I also felt an almost disturbing sense of pride, and…fulfillment. My desire for blood had been filled; the desire I had held back for so long. I had killed livestock and beast for food, but this was different. This was…murder. However, as quickly as it had come, the disgust started to ebb away, and a small smile formed on my face as I stood up straight again.

At that moment, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck; a feeling that someone was watching me, that someone had seen what I had done. I whipped around, dagger at the ready, but saw nothing. The sun was nearly lost behind the mountains to the West, but there was still enough light for me to see the landscape around me in detail. I shuffled in full circle, but could pick out no one in the surrounding forest. Even so, I still could not loose the feeling of being watched, so I kept my dagger and bow at easy access.

Casting one last suspicious look into the immediate area, I turned back toward the body. As I looked at her corpse again, I felt another overwhelming feeling of disgust, but this time not at what I had done- now at the fact that I didn’t feel any remorse for my actions; no pity for the defenseless old woman. I wanted to- I genuinely wanted to feel bad, to feel guilty. But I didn’t. I…couldn’t. Sighing, pushing the unsettling thoughts out of my mind, I squatted down and started to search her for valuables.

I found about 4 gold, which was quite a sum to me at that time, and a letter to some gift-giving service listing the locations of all of her kids. I pocketed the list, not really sure why. I also found the key to her cottage. I looked back up at the sky, finding that the sun had almost disappeared, so I decided to spend the night in her house. I dragged her body into the tall grass surrounding the home before slipping the key into the lock and opening the cottage door.

Upon entering, I found that the old woman (Perennia Draconis, according to the letter) had a dog when it started barking incessantly, but it seemed as ancient as she had been. I tossed it some old boar meat from my pack, and he eagerly started gnawing at it, completely forgetting my presence. I quickly scanned the interior, looking for valuables, but not finding much. According to the sign over the mantle, the place was called “Applewatch”.

My stomach growled, so I looked into my pack and pulled out some venison and various vegetables I had stored for my trip. I cooked them in the fire place, petting the content dog while stoking the fire. Looking back, I didn’t even feel uneasy spending such a pleasant time in the home of the woman I had just mercilessly slain. My thoughts at the time were only of the food I was cooking. After my meal, I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me, so I stripped out of my leather greaves, boots and cuirass and pulled on a long coarse shirt to sleep in. I slipped my dagger under my pillow, placed my quiver and bow on the bedside table, and slid into the warm recesses of the covers. It was extremely comfortable, compared to my recent sleeping arrangements, which had consisted of rock slabs and leaf piles. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I was woken not four hours later when my blood seemed to turn to ice, the air still and silent. In one fluid movement I had sat bolt upright and pulled my dagger out from under my pillow, holding it menacingly out into the dark room. I sat there, panting for second, trying to peer through the complete darkness, when a deep, sinister voice spoke to my right.

“You sleep rather soundly for murderer. That’s good. You’ll need a clear conscience for what I’m about to propose.”

I leapt to the left, pulling the covers off the bed as I swung my dagger wildly into midair, attempting to defend myself. I pressed my back against the wall, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Across the bed I saw a man, clothed and hooded in the darkest black. His deep brown eyes were studying, assessing every move I made, always calculating. He seemed to be almost…amused at my reaction. His lips were curled up ever so slightly at the corners, and his intense eyes were gleaming with laughter.

“Who-who are you?” I demanded, mentally assessing my options. Listen to him talk, charge and attack, or run. Talking seemed to be the most favorable of my options; he looked quite skilled with a blade, and his athletic form could be seen even through his robes and the way he moved; he could probably outrun me. Besides, I wanted to see what he had to say. He was…intriguing.

“I am Lucien Lachance, a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you, you are a killer. A taker of life. A harvester of souls. Your work, your deathcraft, pleases the Night Mother. And so, I come to you with an offer. An opportunity to join our rather…unique family.”

I had no idea what to say. How did he know I had murdered the woman? And how had he known so quickly? Could he have been the presence I sensed after her death? But how had he known I was going to kill her? And what- My internal bombarding of questions was cut off as he continued, looking at me in a way that seemed to convey that he knew exactly what my thoughts were.

“So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely. On the Green Road to the North of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. He is an old man, his body frail, and he sleeps his days away. You could kill him before he woke, if you so chose. In whatever way you choose, kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family.”

I thought about his last statement, and some of the possible implications one could interpret from it, and was suddenly extremely aware of the shortness of my shirt, and how much my legs were showing. I colored slightly, embarrassed at my own thoughts, which were most likely completely unfounded. He continued on, seemingly undeterred by my silence.

“Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence,” he said with his slight smile, handing me a gold-decorated dagger.

‘The Blade of Woe’ was inscribed on its gold and black hilt. I stood digesting this

for a moment, before I looked him in the eye and said questioningly:

“The Dark Brotherhood?”

“Have you not heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Of the remorseless guild of paid assassins and homicidal cutthroats? Join us, and you’ll find the Dark Brotherhood to be all that, and so much more. We are, more than anything, a union of like-minded individuals. We kill for profit, for enjoyment, and for the glory of the Dread Father Sithis. We are a family, with bonds forged in blood… and death.”

Deep in the recesses of my mind I found a distant memory; of my early teen years, working at the linen shop with my aunt. The daily routine involved scrubbing fabric clean in the back room, while gossiping with the fellow workers. I remember my aunt leaning conspiratively over her scrub board, eyes wide and her voice fearful:

“They say that when you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood visits you in your sleep. It’s how they recruit new members.”

The understanding must have shown on my face, for he nodded briskly and said:

“Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we’ll meet again soon.” And with one last lingering look, in which he took in my scantly dressed form with a slightly raised eyebrow and an amused gleam in his eye, Lucien Lachance vanished. Literally. The door to the cottage opened and closed, seemingly on its own accord, and a cold draft sweeping into the room. The sounds of night filled the room, embracing me.

I stood for a moment, perhaps more, rigid in astonishment. I realized now that I had often heard of the Dark Brotherhood, but these were always tales of evil and heartless murder. And I had just been asked to join them. To ‘join their family’, as Lachance had put it. Did that make me evil? Was I evil? I thought of the body lying cold outside in the tall grass, and still didn’t feel a pang of shame or guilt. I realized that I was just that; a cold, heartless murderer. Maybe not evil, but I was a cold-blooded murderer. I wasn’t ready to admit myself as evil. Not yet.

When Lachance had spoken of them, he made the Brotherhood sound like they were…close. A family. A loving family of cold-blooded assassins. The idea seemed so preposterous that I almost laughed out loud. My first inclination was to forget the whole prospect- to never even go near the Inn of Ill Omen. Best to disregard the whole thing. But as I lowered myself back onto the bed, picking up the comforter and pulling it over my body, I couldn’t stop replaying Lucien’s words in my thoughts.

For my whole life I had felt almost overpowering urges to kill, to murder. But I had always resisted, always controlled myself. At sometimes I had barely contained myself, but I had never given in. Until now. Since my desires did not seem to be shared by any I knew, I had always considered myself a freak of nature, a one of a kind outcast. I felt that my only option was to just conform to fit in with society. But now it seemed that there were others like me; those who embraced their gifts for murder. And these people wanted to accept me as one of their own.

And what about this ‘Speaker’, this Lucien Lachance? The way he spoke of murder- he seemed to feel the same way that I had felt about killing the old woman. It was…intoxicating. I had not even accepted his offer, yet he was already treating me as family. No one had ever treated me like that, not since my aunt died when I was young. Part of me wanted to see this “Lucien Lachance” again…in the short time I had met him he had made an impression.

Maybe I would just go and check out the Inn, to see what was there. Just to see where the man lived, I thought to myself. The rest of the night continued in the same fashion, with internal arguments and self-objections. Finally, after a sleepless and thought filled night, I set out at dawn for the Inn, fill of determination and purpose. I was going to kill that man. I was going to join the Dark Brotherhood.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Nine: WhoDunIt Part II

I arrived in Skingrad after a long and wet journey. I had... borrowed a horse from the Cheydinhal stables, but it was still a lengthy ride, the horse and I did not get along, plus the weather was not agreeing with me. However, my mood was not to be dampened by horse spit nor heavy rain, and I still arrived in Skingrad in an abnormally cheery mood. I shoved the horse roughly by the rump into the corral, receiving a strange look from the Town Guard, before entering the huge heavy gates into Skingrad.

It was a large, beautiful town; I had been there before, in better weather, and had appreciated the tall, spiraling towers and heavy stonework that made up the city. It was still a rich district, but the people here worked hard for their wealth, and for that I respected them somewhat more than the twats in Chorrol, or even Cheydinhal.

I knew where Summitmist Manor was, so I started straight for it. Once close, I stopped in an alley near the house, to change into my outfit and arm myself accordingly. I was wearing a vest over a plaid shirt, and a long brown skirt. I had been very careful when choosing this outfit; I wanted to look like I was fairly poor, and the clothing was nice but worn and used. Understanding my own feelings against the exceedingly rich, I felt that it would be best if I came off as a poor girl looking for some money. I wanted their pity at first; I hoped that would lower their guard around me.

Before moving on, I slipped a piece of parchment out from the pocket of my travel clothes. I fingered the frayed edges, reading its contents almost tenderly. It was the gift list of Perennia Draconis, the woman I had murdered so long ago. My first kill. I brought this list with me everywhere, and always read it before a kill. With one last loving stroke over the parchments aging surface, I folded it carefully and slipped it into a pocket of my skirt. I had things to do.

The weaponry for this contract had been an even harder choice- one good thing was that the guests had planned for a prolonged stay, so I could bring a reasonably large bag in which I could hide my more obvious instruments of pain and death without being too suspicious. On my person I kept a light, razor sharp dagger on a strap on my lower leg, and thin layer of Mithril protected my stomach beneath my shirt, just in case.

Into my bag I slipped 13 of my best arrows, hoping they weren't too obvious in shape. The hard part had been bringing a bow- they are quite large and noticeable. If a guest was shot and I was walking around with a quiver and bow on my back, I think the others would catch on rather quickly. However, I was quite fond of archery, and much more skilled with it than I was with a blade, to be truthful. After some quick searching, I had located a short bow that was small enough to fit comfortably into my sack, but large enough to be effective. I also slipped some homemade poisons (and a few health healing potions), and two poison apples into the bag or into various pockets. I then shoved clothes and rags into the bag, stuffing them strategically until you could no longer clearly discern the outline of arrows or a bow.

I stood up straight, quickly scanning myself over, making sure everything was in place, before slinging my bag over my shoulder and turning back into the street, eyes darting around, always wary. It was deserted, except for a man standing in front of Summitmist Manor. When he saw me he smiled slightly, obviously amused by my disguise, and nodded as I slowed to a stop in front of him.

"So," he said, "the last guest finally arrives." I nodded, raising my eyebrow with a cynical smile.

"I'll tell you what I told all the others. You go in, I lock the door. You don't come out 'til it's over." I looked at him expectantly.

"Now, I'll tell you what I didn't tell everyone else. We have the same Mother, you and I. And she wants you to have this." He handed me a large, heavy key. I slipped it carefully into an inner recess of my skirt, and he continued.

"It's the key to the house. I guess someone else has already told you the other details. Kill all the guests then leave, right?" I nodded.

"Well, you'd better get in there. Time to mingle."

I nodded once more, but stood still for a moment, mentally preparing myself. This must have seemed like hesitation to him, for after mere seconds he burst out.

"Well, what are you waiting for? There's a party, and you're the guest of honor!" He added grumpily: "All I get to do is lock the damn door. You get to have all the fun..." and he motioned towards the doors, over embellishing the sweeping gesture.

I shook my head, smiling lightly, and hefted my bag up further onto my shoulder. Well, here we go, I thought. And I pushed open the heavy doors.

As soon as I walked into the entryway I was nearly knocked down by a figure clad in all green. It was an old woman, with a wrinkling face and gray hair. I had a sudden flash of the face of the old Draconis woman at Applewatch during her last moments... the look of shock in her eyes, the look of pain...It was so surprising and unexpected that I was physically staggered. But as quickly as it had come, it was gone, and I took a deep, calming breath.

"Oh, sorry dearie! Are you all right?" she said, her voice kindly.

"Oh yes, I'm fine," I replied, making my voice sound more breathy and nervous than I would have normally been comfortable with.

"Well anyways, you've finally arrived, and it's about time! Do you know how long we've been waiting? It seems like an age! Whoever invited us here must at least know us, don't you think?" I nodded my head, and she looked pleased. "In any event, we're all stuck here together, so we might as well get acquainted. The rest of us have already traded introductions. I'm Matilde Petit. The others are Nels the Naughty, Neville, Dovesi Dran and Primo Antonius. Now, who might you be? Please, tell me a little bit about yourself," she finished quickly, looking at me expectantly.

I was quite stunned with her sudden questions, but I tried to keep my head together. One mistake could betray my identity, and one against five wasn't good odds, old woman included or not.

"Uhm, well, my name is Addy, and I used to live in Kvatch before it was... well you know," I said, letting my voice drift off soberly with the remembrance of the terrible night. "My husband died that night, and my baby is sick... and we are so poor," I added in an almost nervous tone, carefully watching her reaction.

"Oh, you poor dear! Well, this does make things difficult for me. I want to find the gold as much as anyone, but you need it so much more than I do! Anyways... now that we're all here, I guess we can start looking. I'd wish you good luck, but I wouldn't really mean it!" She smiled as she said it, but I got the very clear feeling that she wasn't being completely untruthful.

"And to you as well," I said. She turned around, starting to walk away. As she did so, I shut my eyes for a split second in concentration, a light yellow glow appearing around my hand before I cast it towards her back. I felt the connection of the Charm spell on her essence, and then tapped her shoulder. She turned back, her gaze questioning.

"Before you go, tell me- what's your opinion on the other guests?" I said, raising my eyebrows with a slightly mischievous smile. She smiled back, and I could tell that the spell had done its trick- for the next three minutes, she would be completely truthful with me.

"Well, they seem like they could be an interesting lot, to say the least," she started. She glanced around, and dropped her voice and leaned in. "Dovesi Doran, that Dunmer girl over in the chair-" she gestured to an armchair off to the right, where a young, attractive Dark Elf woman was sitting- "well, she seems a nice enough girl. But, to be perfectly honest, I've never trusted their kind." I nodded, encouraging her to continue.

"There's also the Nord- Nels. Oh, that man disgusts me! I find his entire manner offensive. Why, just before you got here he told the most off-color joke about an Argonian maid... I can understand why he was called Nels the Naughty, that's all I have to say.

"And there's also Neville, the Redguard... from what I gathered, he's a retired soldier. He's been all across the Empire fighting in various campaigns. Goodness, he's handsome..." She looked uncertain, but I widened my eyes expectantly.

"Well, if I can be perfectly honest with you, I find Neville quite attractive. Redguards are so... exotic. Don't you think?"

We both giggled like young school girls, and I felt sick with myself. The woman disgusted me; she was every bit the stereotypical old rich gossiping hag, concealed beneath a facade of sweetness. And I was going along with her! The only way I got through our conversation was by looking forward to her slaughter.

"I've forgotten someone...oh yes! Primo Antonius- he's young, well-educated and obviously full of himself. Not much different than any young nobleman, really." The way she said this gave me the feeling that she knew this from experience. "It's obvious that young Primo comes from wealth. A chest full of gold would be mere spending change for him."

"What would he do this for, if not for money?" I asked, surprised. I was rather put off guard by the fact that two guests were wealthy. Either they were exceptionally greedy, or they were here for different reasons than money. And that was an alarming notion to me. I had counted on the guests being gluttonous, self serving characters... but if they weren't here for money, what were their reasons for being here?

"I don't know, it is all rather odd, isn't it? I mean, being invited to this house…” She trailed off and we both sat in silence, her, contemplating the reasoning for being invited here, and I, pretending to do so.

“Well I’m off to start dinner- we’ll be eating at 8 sharp, so don’t be late! I’m cooking Roast Mutton, a special family recipe!” And with that, she turned away and walked toward the basement.

I glanced over toward the Dark Elf, but she seemed absorbed in her own world, so I took the time instead to look around the house. It had a wide foyer, with lavishly furnished rooms and tall bookcases to the right and left. There were two staircases; the left staircase went downstairs into a basement, and the right up to the second floor. I climbed the right staircase to find myself in a room with a balcony looking over the first floor. There was a round table laden with silverware and plates, and a Nord and a Redguard were standing on the far side, conversing in raised voices. Nels and Neville, I surmised. It sounded like they were arguing, but they broke off when I approached- the Redguard stormed away, completely ignoring my presence. The Nord shook his head, snorting.

I approached him slowly, tilting my head and looking curiously at him.

“Well, hello there!” he boomed in a loud, dominating voice. His voice and manner already had the hint of alcohol about it…

“Nels is my name. Some call me Naughty, but don't you believe it!” He laughed uproariously at his own joke, and I smiled forcefully, a tad bewildered.

“Ah, don't let the name fool you. I had a bit too much mead a few years back, and there was this tavern wench...” I used my look of wide-eyed innocence and naivety, and he drifted off, grinning sheepishly.

“Anyway, just call me Nels.”

“My name is Addy,” I said, and he shook my hand delicately.

“Glad to meet ya,” he replied. He turned to pick up his mug sitting on the table, and I, seizing the opportunity, cast a Charm spell once again. Taking the advantage while I had it, I decided to try and dig up some dirt.

“Who was that other man, the Redguard…?” Nels’ gaze instantly hardened at the mention of Neville.

His voice was raised as he spoke: “I will confide something in you, my friend. I despise Neville and all his Imperial Legion ilk! They are useless, uncaring tools of corruption!”

His gaze suddenly turned distant, and his voice lowered.

“Three years ago, my village in Skyrim was attacked by bandits. We went to the nearby Imperial Legion outpost, but they refused to help us! My dear, sweet daughter Olga was killed that day.” I was astonished to see his eyes turn moist, and even more astonished to find that I felt pity for him.

“She was murdered, and the Legion would do nothing to help her. Neville and his kind are scum,” he snarled, and I patted his shoulder soothingly.

“I am truly sorry for you loss,” I said. I could see the charm was starting to wear off, so I pushed the conversation forward.

“So, what do you think of the other guests?” I said hurriedly, drawing him out of his reverie.

“What did you say? The other guests? Well, that old woman- Matilde- she’s kind of stuck-up, that one. Right before you got here I told the funniest joke about an Argonian maid, and she didn't even crack a smile.” I laughed to myself, thinking of Matilde’s comment just moments before.

“The Imperial Antonius is young and rich, but I can sense a good, decent person in there somewhere. He just has to get his priorities straight. And Dovesi…” He trailed off, but I looked at him expectantly.

“Dovesi is the spitting image of my own daughter! Her skin is darker, of course, but that sweet face...” He took a deep swig of his mug, and I had the impression he was gulping back more than drink.

There was a silence, and I could tell from the way his body language became stiffer and his face had closed off that the spell would no longer be helping me.

“I must be going, I have-” I started, but he interrupted.

“Yes, the hunt is on, eh?” If only you knew, I thought sardonically.

“I wonder how much gold is actually in the chest? A thousand pieces of gold? Ten thousand? I guess it all depends on the size of the chest. The bigger the better, of course, but where would our mysterious host have hidden such a thing?” I started to inch away, and he caught on quickly.

“Of course, go ahead, start your search. I’ll be here if you need anything” he added kindly, and I smiled warmly before walking off to the right, heading up the next flight of stairs. Nels seemed like an amiable enough fellow, if a little too fond of the drink.

I reached the top of the flight of stairs and pushed open the door. I found a hall of doors, three on my right, two on my left. I supposed that these were the bedrooms. All of the doors were closed, except for one on my left. I walked down the hall and peered in, feigning an innocently curious look. I found the Redguard tapping on a bare section of wall, leaning into toward the wood, listening for the dull thud of a hollow space. He stopped in mid knock when he saw me in the doorway.

“Ah yes, the sixth guest. I'm Neville. It's nice to make your acquaintance.” He said, his tone official, too reminiscent of one of the Guard- they were all the same.

“I’m Addy,” I said, and we shook hands. I watched him curiously for a moment, and he seemed to be embarrassed that I had discovered him searching.

“Well, that chest of gold is supposed to be in here somewhere,” he said abruptly, his voice almost defensive. “Though why someone would invite us all here just to give it away is quite the mystery…” he added.

“Yes, it is very strange, isn’t it?” I said. “Whoever invited us here is a very generous person.”

“That could be it…” He said, his gaze one of deep though. I looked at him questioningly.

“Never mind. So, have you met any of the other guests?” he said, pulling himself out of his thoughts and focusing on me. He was going to be harder to fool than the others, I decided.

“Well, I’ve only talked with Matilde and Nels…”

I looked up at him, and saw his expression was sour.

“You don’t really like Nels, do you?” I asked. He looked surprised at the directness of my question, but also seemed to appreciate my candor.

“Know what I think? I think that barbarian will do anything to get his hands on the chest of gold. His kind are greedy and vicious, all of them.” I changed my face to a look of surprise, and of doubt that a whole race could be so terrible. The naive look was working wonders- definitely the most tactful route if I wanted everyone to belief my innocence in the events to come.

“Trust me, I know,” he continued, looking down at me superiorly. “I was stationed at Fort Frostmoth for a few years, on the isle of Solstheim. Those Nords are bunches of animal-worshipping savages. They’re all the same, full of mead and something to prove.” He shook his head, looking disgusted.

“He did seem fond of the bottle…” I said, and he nodded knowingly, pleased with my reaction. “He also said she was fond of Dovesi, but I haven’t talked with her yet. What is she like?”

“Dovesi is a Dark Elf. They call themselves Dunmer. When I was young, I spent some time stationed at Fort Moonmoth on their homeland of Morrowind. I have a great respect for the Dunmer people. They are strong and noble, and generally understand the importance of law and discipline.”

By Sithis, all this man cared about was authority. Fitting, I suppose, for a guard, but that didn’t make it any the less annoying to listen to. Now him I was looking forward to killing already.

“Unfortunately, Dovesi doesn't seem to like me very much. But I don't blame her. The young ones tend to have problems with authority figures,” he finished. He gave me a look, taking in my fairly young form, probably wondering if I was that way.

“I hope I will be able to find that out first hand,” I said, and he looked at me curiously.

“My husband was in the Kvatch town guard, the night the Daedra came.” His expression changed immediately to one of pity and respect. That was a hit, I thought.

“I was pregnant when he died, and was out of town visiting a relative that night. I haven’t been able to make much money, and my baby has fallen ill. When I received the invitation to come here, I jumped at the chance in hopes that I can save my baby. All I want is to see her grow up and scorn authority…” And for the final effect, I made my eyes mist over and gazed off into the distance.

“Your late husband sounds like an honorable man, and I am sorry for your loss. I hope the best for you and your baby, truly,” he said softly, looking me in the eye, and squeezing my shoulder comfortingly.

I sniffed my nose and smiled gratefully, acting as though I was holding back tears. Typical of most men, he seemed uncomfortable with a crying woman and tried to change the subject.

"Well, I don't suppose you've met Primo yet? The young Imperial?" I shook my head, and he looked relieved in my interest.

"The kid's a blue blood, noble through-and-through. He thinks he's better than most people, and in most cases he's right. I'll confess that I have no idea why Primo is here. The kid's got more wealth than the rest of us combined."

"Yes, Matilde mentioned he was quite wealthy. But why would he require more gold? There are many who actually need it," I said, an edge of resentment in my voice.

"You're quite right, he sure doesn't need a chest of gold... Maybe he's incredibly greedy, but I don't think so. My guess is that Primo is so bored he simply has nothing better to do," Neville said thoughtfully. He seemed quite more insightful than he appears, I would have to watch out for that- I thought cautiously to myself.

"He could have found other ways to spend his time," I said huffily, and he smiled understandingly.

"Although this is true, there isn't anything we can do about it now. We are all stuck here together until someone

finds that chest, and it could be any of us. Now, the chest won't find itself. We both should start searching in earnest now, as you know everyone else will be doing the same. Good luck."

"To you as well," I responded, and I left the room, shutting the door behind me. He could knock on walls all he wished, he wouldn't find anything, I said to myself, rather satisfied at the thought. I was about to head down the stairs again when the door to my right opened, and a young blonde man walked out. He was dressed lavishly, and had the air of importance about him. So this was Primo.

"So, you finally showed up. It's about time. People of my station are not accustomed to waiting..." He looked down at me, raising an eyebrow. "My name is Primero Antonius. Just call me Primo. And you are?"

"I'm Addy." He looked at me expectantly, but I gave him a quizzical look. He sighed heavily, and then asked-

"Addy what?"

"Uhm, just Addy..." I was caught off guard- I was had never known my real last name, and didn't think to give my new identity one either.

"You don't have a surname?" He seemed aghast. I could tell names and heritage were very important to him.

"Well if you really must know it was Diventius, but I've stopped using the name since my husband's death," I invented wildly. "I was an orphan, I never knew my pre-marital name." Keeping as close to the truth as possible was making this a much simpler thing pull off.

He looked taken aback for a moment, and seemed rather ashamed. Serves him right, I thought ruefully. Someone needed to take him down a notch. His voice sounded apologetic when he spoke again, after a moment of rather uncomfortable silence.

"Yes, well… here we all are. It's funny how money can bring people together, don't you think?"

I acted relieved to be freed from the tension, and spoke energetically.

"It is rather odd, isn't it?" I said. "I've spoken with most of the guests, and everyone seems so different, so diverse...I mean, we have a Redguard who's an obvious enforcer and follower of law, and than a Nord whose name even suggests otherwise!" I said with a laugh.

"I wouldn't be so quick to stereotype..." Aha, he had taken the bait. "Yes, Nels is a drunk- he doesn't even try to hide that fact. But what else is he? When the liquor has dried, what remains of the man? I think Nels drinks to forget, maybe about some tragedy in his life. He plays the buffoon, but I sense a deep sadness in him.”

Woa. Either he had already had a heart to heart chat with Nels, or Primo was the most observant and insightful man I had ever known.

I gave him a thoughtful look, as though pondering what he had said. He was watching me closely, his expression betraying nothing. I was quite nervous, having just seen his powers of observation at work, but tried to maintain my composure. I already realized that he would be the most difficult to fool, and that therefore he would be the first to die. But when, and how?

I was about to speak the sound of a little bell ringing came from downstairs, and the old woman's shout of 'Dinner!' came echoing up the stairs. We exchanged looks and set out down the stairs, Neville following not far behind. We found the table was laden with bowls and plates, covered with steaming dishes.

"We're going to run out of supplies if we eat like this every night!" Nels exclaimed, stabbing some mutton from the platter with his knife and dropping it onto his plate. Dovesi was sitting next to him, looking unsure of whether to look amused or disgusted as he gnawed on the piece of meat.

"Please, sit down," motioned Matilde, who was welcoming each of us as we arrived.

I sat down next to Nels, and Primo next to me. Dovesi was already seated next to the other side of Nels, and

Neville sat next to Primo.

"Well, dig in!" exclaimed Matilde, before taking the remaining chair.

We all followed her orders without protest, I especially. It had been awhile since I had had some truly exquisite cooking, and this was just that. The next twenty minutes or so contained a fairly comfortable silence, the sounds of skewering forks and chewing appreciatively. As the plates began to empty and the stomachs began to fill, conversation started to pick up.

As the others were speaking animatedly, Dovesi leaned across the table and shook my hand.

"Hello, I'm Dovesi. I'm very pleased to meet you," she said, her face pleasant.

"My name's Addy, and I'm pleased to meet you as well," I replied.

We spoke pleasantly for a few moments, and after such a short time I already knew that she would be the easiest (except perhaps Matilde) to manipulate. She was young and inexperienced in the ways of the world, and seemed very set in her ideas. That made her easy to fool.

"Well now that you're here, we can really start looking for that chest of gold. What I mean to say is, before you arrived, we all just sort of glanced around a bit. Now that we're all officially here, we can look in earnest!" she exclaimed.

"Thank you for waiting," I replied, and her easily read face gave me the distinct impression that she had begun searching 'in earnest' the moment she had arrived.

I looked over at Primo on my other side. He had been silent throughout the meal, and I suspected he had been observing the guests. Every time I glanced at him, however, his gaze was upon Dovesi. She was now sipping from her glass, watching as Neville told tales his days in the Legion to the absolutely fawning Matilde.

I took a closer look at his expression, and suddenly made a connection from our earlier conversation. Primo fancies Dovesi! I exclaimed to myself. I became so engrossed with planning how I could use this to my advantage that I barely noticed as Matilde rose and started collecting dishes for cleanup. After a moment the others started to leave, heading for bed. Everyone started to head upstairs, except for Primo. He seemed to be in a state of deep thought as well, and I remained at the table with him, continuing to think hard as well.

I had a brief notion to kill him, as I felt he and Neville were the most threatening, but I realized quickly enough that the situation would be too obvious- I would be the prime suspect, and I most certainly didn't want that. I would have to wait until there was an opportunity where several others could take the blame.

I looked back at Primo, and saw that he was smiling slightly, but still deep in thought. I decided to take a chance.

"So, what are you thinking about?" I said, my voice amused.

"Wha- Oh nothing," he said, looking surprised to find me there. I gave him a knowing look, smiling superiorly.

"What is it?" he asked, sounding slightly irritable.

"You were thinking about Dovesi, weren't you?" I said, smiling broader still as his face gave him away.

"I don't- what are you- that's-" he sputtered, but the 'secret' was out, and he realized it.

"Oh alright," he snapped. He looked closely at me. "How did you know?"

I continued to smile mysteriously, and shrugged my shoulders indifferently. At first he looked irritated, but after a moment he shrugged his shoulders as well.

"Many say that women have a sense about these things..." he said.

"I suppose you could say that," I replied. Or you could have been sitting there staring at her for over an hour

with a face like a lovesick puppy.

"Well you can't blame me, can you? She's quite beautiful, isn't she? A little young, perhaps, and not exactly high-born, but she possesses a unique elegance..." His voice was far away, his eyes misting over. I had a feeling like he could have this conversation with himself. I cleared my throat loudly- I didn't have time for this, I had his murder to plan.

"From the little I spoke with her, she seems like a pleasant girl," I said, steering him back down from his thoughts.

"Yes...Can I be honest with you, my friend?"

"Always."

"Truth be told, I find Dovesi... captivating. She possesses a beauty beyond compare. Maybe you could do me a favor?"

"Depends," I said, smiling to show I was joking. Sort of.

"She seems fond of you- If you speak with her, put in a good word for me, would you? I would be forever in your debt," he said, almost pleadingly.

"Of course, my friend," I replied. This was turning into a most productive conversation, I thought wryly.

"Thank you!" He cried, wringing my hand gratefully. "Well I'm off to bed... see you in the morning," he said, and strode off towards the stairs.

I remained behind, plopping myself down on the chair. I sipped a glass of wine, brooding on all I had learned a lot in my first couple of hours here. I thought of my fellow guests; there was so much potential for chaos, just how to harness it to my advantage... The feuds and friendships had already started to form, and were becoming stronger with each passing hour.

I thought about Primo and Dovesi- how could I use that for my advantage? If I told Dovesi of Primo’s feelings, and she returned them, then it would be an instant alliance between the two, meaning that if one was killed, the other would most likely be upset… and it would probably make them the prime target in the eyes of the rest of the guests. I had already decided that unless there were circumstances that I could not pass up, Primo was going to die first.

My musings were cut short when Nels came into the room. He shuffled toward the table and grabbed two bottles of Ale, looking at the labels with a broad grin, before he spotted me. He gave a start, and then smiled guiltily, holding up the bottles of ale.

“Haha, guess ya caught me. Just a little something to help me sleep…” he trailed off, seemingly waiting for my reaction.

“Of course, my friend,” I said, laughing lightly. I gestured to my still half full goblet of wine. “I understand completely…” And I walked towards the stairs to the bedrooms.

I peaked in on all the doors and found that the first room on the right had an empty bed. The other was occupied by Dovesi, who was sitting up, brushing her hair.

“Oh hello!” She exclaimed. “I was wondering when you would come up.”

“I was just thinking… this is such an odd situation, don’t you think?”

She looked hesitant before responding. “It is all so strange, isn't it? I don't know why I was invited to come here, but the gold could really help my family.”

“Me too,” I said, and we both looked at each other for a moment in silence.

“Its such an odd mix of people- have you ever met anyone here before?” I said, starting up the conversation again.

“I haven’t, actually. I wonder how our host chose to bring us all together,” she said, looking at me as if I would know.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know, it is odd. Everyone is so different…”

She nodded, and I waited for her to speak. She didn’t.

“Well… what do you think of everyone? Personally, I don’t like Matilde. She gets on my nerves, always acting so sweet, but you can tell she’s not,” I said boldly, taking a chance. I got lucky- she giggled nervously, before

responding.

“Honestly? I don't think she likes me.” I looked at her, surprise in my features. “It's because I'm a Dunmer.” I gave her a look of sympathy at the woman’s prejudice. “I heard her say something to Neville, and it wasn't very nice…” she finished sadly, and I patted her shoulder.

“It’s okay, everyone knows she’s a batty old woman.” I said, and she smiled. “And Neville, well, you know how soldiers are…”

“He’s not just a soldier -- he was an officer in the Imperial Legion. I hate the Legion and everything it stands for.“ She said, sounding rather angry. “When those soldiers came to Morrowind, they persecuted my people and stole our lands. Neville may not be in the Legion anymore, but who knows what atrocities he committed. And yet he continues to act as though he is sent from the Nine to do their bidding…”

“He does act all superior to everyone- did you see how he was talking to Nels earlier?”

“I heard! Just because of his name and race, Neville is treating him like the dirt on his shoe!” she exclaimed,

before looking embarrassed at her outburst. She took a breath, and then continued thoughtfully.

“I wonder what makes him so "Naughty"? He seems nice enough to me. Every now and then he looks over at me and smiles. I think he's sweet on me.”

I smiled widely, but she didn’t full return it.

“What’s the matter?” I asked. “I thought you liked Nels?”

“Well…. To tell you the truth, I’m rather taken by Primo,” she blushed. “I think he’s very handsome. But please don't tell him I said so!” We laughed, but she stopped quickly, looking upset again.

“But it's pretty obvious that Primo comes from a wealthy family. He would never be interested in a girl like me, I'm afraid…”

I figured now that now was the moment.

“Not true! I told him I wouldn’t say anything, but… he told me he likes you!” I exclaimed, holding her shoulders. She looked stunned.

“He…he did? Oh my goodness, what should I do?” she exclaimed, and I laughed good-naturedly at her.

“Calm down! I think you should just talk to him- he seems very smitten already, so I’m sure he’ll listen to anything you’ll say,” I said, and she nodded slowly.

She looked dazed as I climbed into my own bed and pulled up the covers, and I chuckled.

“Why don’t you get some sleep- want to keep yourself looking beautiful for Primo,” I said, and she grinned.

“Yes… well, good night,” she said.

“You too.”