I am Lena Wolf, Lena's life as it happens Options

[Lena Wolf]

Second Seed, 4E204 - We meet again

"Nice of you to drop in on us like that," Benita smiled when Lena finally regained consciousness. "Rook told me of your adventures in the other land... That was rather gruesome," she looked somber. "So I suppose you are here to chase after your heart?"

"How do you know all this, Benita?" Lena tried to sit up but the wound in her chest was still raw. "Even if Rook told you every detail..." she shot him a glance, but he only smiled. "Even then..."

"It's obvious, dear," Benita shrugged. "To anyone who is paying attention, which, admittedly, is rare enough. Our world goes through a simple pattern... and you know what - I don't mind a bit. It is still a nice place to live."

"I am sorry that I shall have to destroy it again in order to regain my heart," Lena smiled apologetically.

"Pay it no mind, for everything will be rebuilt overnight once you've completed the cycle," Benita gently pushed Lena back onto the pillows. "Now, you should rest. That wound is real and unless you allow it to close and heal, it will kill you before you see the dragon again."

Lena tried to protest that she had to get up and go looking for Scorpio, but Benita would hear none of it. "Scorpio will wait for you in the Rift," Rook tried to reassure her too. "All is back to where it should be for the moment."

...

A few days later Lena was well enough to walk around and her initial foray to the beach outside Cassardis didn't go too badly. Of course, this was mostly due to Rook shadowing her everywhere with his healing spells. "Accompanying a new Arisen is my job," he would dismiss her protests. "The only way you can get rid of me is to throw me off a cliff." And since Lena had no intention of doing it, she stopped protesting.

Arriving at the encampment West of Cassardis and to the main riftstone in the area, they found everything as it had always been - the place was buzzing with soldiers and pawns. Some people seemed to have recognised her, but didn't find it strange to see her again, she answered their greetings and went about summoning Scorpio. She approached the riftstone and heard a familiar voice.

"Well met, newly Arisen! Can you hear our voice? We speak to you over a great distance..." The voice continued telling her a few basics about being an Arisen, then asked her to demonstrate the strength of her resolve. Lena snorted and turned to Rook.

"Do you think it is a recorded message?" She squinted at him. "They didn't seem to realise who I am."

"It may well be a recorded message," Rook nodded. "With the trial pre-arranged as well. I do find it suspicious how it is that a very particular marked cyclops appears just outside the encampment immediately after a new Arisen touches the riftstone for the first time. But no matter - we still have to slay it because the havoc it is causing is quite real!"

The encampment was indeed in a bit of a turmoil with soldiers running back and forth, some towards the gates leading to the cyclops, others in the opposite direction. Out of the gates they joined the fight, and soon the cyclops was slain, gaining Lena a nice piece of hide, a rugged task and two misshapen eyes...

"Two eyes?" Lena looked at Rook in astonishment. "From a cyclops?"

"Never mind, pick up your loot and let's go back to the riftstone," Rook grinned. "Perhaps he had a spare in his pocket."

Back at the riftstone another pre-recorded message congratulated Lena on a successful completion of her trial and invited her to select a companion for the journey ahead, a pawn who would serve her and her alone. "Now, that's a lie," Lena suddenly noticed that line. "Pawns serve other Arisen as well when they are called for duty. I wonder why the Legion would lie to us like that..." She touched the riftstone and entered the Rift.

...

"Here to select a pawn?" A clerk started shuffling some papers without looking at Lena. He'd done this countless times before. "Male or female?"

"Scorpio." Lena said in an even tone.

"What..?" The clerk finally looked up. "You again!" He scowled. "You can't have the same pawn over and over again," he shook his head. "Choose another."

"Scorpio." Lena repeated with more urgency in her voice.

"I said no," the clerk looked stern. "You're not supposed to be here, even. You've been assigned to the other world. We can just send you back there if you continue being a nuisance."

"Is there a problem?" Lena heard Scorpio's voice behind her. "You cannot overrule an Arisen's call."

The clerk buried his face in his hands.

"Fine! Have it your way!" He grabbed a pile of papers and dropped them into a desk drawer, locking it. "Let's say, I never saw those. I am no fighter. I cannot fight an Arisen and her pawn..."

"Fight?" Lena was taken aback. "What are you talking about? What were those papers?"

"You're not supposed to be reunited with your pawn," he looked up at her. "Those are reports from the worlds you've been in about all the trouble you two make. The Legion decided to split you up. And if you refuse, I am supposed to fight you." He pointed at a rusty sword behind his desk. "What a joke!" He smirked. "You'll kill me, I'll respawn elsewhere in the Rift, you'll come back for your pawn and we'll be doing it until the end of time."

"Let's go," Scorpio put his hand around Lena's waist preventing her from lunging at the clerk. "He's just a clerk. We'll talk elsewhere."

...

"You took your time!" Rook was standing by the riftstone looking worried. "What happened?"

"Not here," Scorpio shook his head.

Back in Cassardis they were sitting around the table in Pablo's inn with Pablo fussing over the food and drink.

"It's good to have you back, cousin!" He kept repeating. "Truth be told, we missed you and your pawns," he grinned at them. "You bring excitement to our quiet village!"

"Aestelle still glares at us though," Scorpio smirked. "Even at Rook!"

"Aestelle is like that," Pablo shrugged. "She's doing it out of habit more than anything. Yet she doesn't think twice about calling on Rook for every bruise and scrape she gets, which happens all the time!"

"Why is Aestelle getting bruises and scrapes?" Lena looked up in surprise. "She's a shop keeper! What's so dangerous in her shop?"

"Well, she handles crates with merchandise, doesn't she? Apparently they have all rough corners and edges..." Pablo rolled his eyes and everyone stared at Rook.

"What?!" He looked around defensively. "I cast a healing spell, that's all! Apparently, that tickles..."

When hilarity finally settled down, it was time to discuss more serious matters.

"The clerk in the Rift said that the Legion wanted to see us split up," Scorpio summarised the events for Rook. "He had a pile of reports of the trouble we caused, apparently," he grinned. "What I want to know is what the Legion really wants from Wolf."

"They want her dead," Rook shrugged. "She's a threat to the established order. Not only is she constantly going after the dragon, but she also spreads ideas about the free will. And that is the real threat to the Legion."

"I don't actually give anyone free will," Lena objected. "You already have it."

"Ah, but we're being brainwashed to the contrary," Rook shook his head, rubbing the pawn mark on his hand, bright as ever. "It's not just the Arisen who are being told that pawns are but empty husks, the pawns are being told that as well. Some even believe it... Well, a lot of pawns believe it, in fact."

"A lot of people believe something similar too," Lena sighed. "Soldiers who follow orders without thinking... spouses who defer every decision to their 'other half'... servants who do whatever 'their betters' tell them... It is so much easier not to have to think for yourself, and there's always someone you can blame for your misfortunes." She paused, and no one spoke. "I really don't think that if I tell a few pawns to wake up, it would have a lasting effect on the Legion as a whole."

"May be it isn't that..." Rook rubbed his chin. "May be it is rather the fact that you are not from this world. The worlds controlled by the Legion all run in a simple cycle with the dragon and the Arisen, it renews the world without allowing it to change all that much. If pawns start getting ideas and traveling the Rift beyond these worlds like Scorpio here, those ideas may spill over to the inhabitants and ultimately break the Dragon's Dogma cycle. That would be an issue."

"Lord Phaesus in Battahl has already been trying to break the Dragon's Dogma for a very long time," Lena objected. "I had nothing to do with it."

"May be not, and may be you have," Rook gave her a long look. "They also had the elves and the dwarves... Some travel has been happening for eons already. But what is new, I think, is that you taught it to your pawn... in a manner of speaking..."

The day was turning into an evening, and they still couldn't solve the conundrum of the Pawn Legion.

"You know what," Lena got up from the table. "May be we don't need to figure it out. May be we should each just try to live our lives... such as they are." She smiled, looking around the inn, now filling with people coming for dinner. "One step at a time. I'll need my heart back first of all, then we'll see. This time things are better than ever before," she smiled radiantly at them. "Rook is actually at home. He can come with us for a few days, then return to Benita, and all of that will be happening in real time. This is how life works for the rest of us, Rook. This is the real thing. No more fragments or shards, they won't call you away while there's an Arisen right here. And I... I feel at home here too. May be I don't need to rush the dragon this time..? Less fighting, more eating fish, perhaps?" She looked at Scorpio who seemed confused by such a change in tactics. "We kick Selene out of my house and settle down for a while? What say you, Main Pawn?"

"My all is yours to shape, Master," he answered automatically. "I wouldn't say no to fish myself..."

"Flounder and haddock today," Pablo put a platter of grilled fish on the table. "Hope you like it... we can never tell what the sea will give us, but there's always enough..."

The inn was getting loud as the drinking overtook the eating, and no one really noticed when Lena and her pawn left the room.

...

"Were you serious about settling down for a while?" Scorpio turned to her when the logs in their campfire were reduced to ambers. The night was beautiful and they chose to spend it on the beach.

"Perhaps," Lena nodded. "I don't know what's the right way any more," she looked at him. "I am tired, Scorpio... That chase in Battahl took more out of me than I would have liked... And your wound is still hurting."

"It is... It seems we both need more time to heal." He put another log into the fire and it flared, then calmed down again. "Perhaps the answers will come all without us chasing after them..."

"Immortality has its perks..."

"I never had any issues with your fangs..."

"Fangs I can deal with," Lena smirked. "I want a beating heart again."

"You'll get it back, I have no doubt." Scorpio looked quite serious. "It will destroy this world and you will fix it again. You will even be allowed to remain here forever after that... possibly even with me at your side..."

"But..?"

"It's what Rook said - they don't want you to leave, they don't want pawns to leave this sphere."

"How did you manage to travel to Tamriel?" Lena suddenly realised that she didn't know how pawns traveled the Rift.

"I simply grabbed another ledge..." Scorpio smiled at Lena's incomprehension. "Remember the Everfall? The endless well you're falling through? With ledges and lights along the way? There's one in the Rift. Possibly even the same one, or may be it just appears differently to different people... I found it and jumped into it, and those ledges and lights led to different worlds. Eventually I landed in the Shivering Isles... It wasn't the first ledge I tried."

"Oh..." Lena's voice fell. "So it isn't a straight road home..."

"No, we'll have to find a more secure way," Scorpio nodded. "I imagine this is why it wasn't guarded - who would want to jump into the unknown for no reason? I had a reason of course, but most pawns do not."

"Pawns that go mad with despair on the Bitterblack Isle might prefer to jump in," Lena objected. "If they knew about it, that is..."

"But that's the thing with despair - you stop looking for a way out."

"You need a friend to help you along," Lena looked up, thinking of her own despair back in Battahl, and how Rook pulled her out. "All it takes is warmth..."

[macole]

Of course a two-eyed Cyclops, one eye in front of its head and one in the back of its head. Since you only see one at a time, what you see is a cyclops. But then of course he could just be carrying a spare in his pocket.

Free will, a concept everyone has access to yet many refuse to exercise preferring to blame fate or others their misfortunes.

"But that's the thing with despair - you stop looking for a way out." Yes, very well put.

[Lena Wolf]

Of course a two-eyed Cyclops, one eye in front of its head and one in the back of its head. Since you only see one at a time, what you see is a cyclops. But then of course he could just be carrying a spare in his pocket.

There was no eye on the back of his head! I just started the first Dragon's Dogma again, I realised it has more charm than the new game. Bigger is not always better, it appears... So we fought the cyclops and got two misschapen eyes as a semi-random reward. Must have been carrying one in his pocket.

Free will, a concept everyone has access to yet many refuse to exercise preferring to blame fate or others their misfortunes.

It's easier that way, isn't it? What struck me this time also is that Aestelle, the shop keeper who dislikes pawns, says that she doesn't like them because she finds that following orders to fight for someone to your death is unnatural. Err... yet she does not have the same problem with human soldiers who are supposed to do the same... except the ones who run in the opposite direction when a cyclops attacks, that is.

"But that's the thing with despair - you stop looking for a way out." Yes, very well put.

Isn't it just how it feels. Thank you.

[Lena Wolf]

Chapter 8

Heartbeat

First Seed, 3E434 - A visitor in the dead of night

They say vampires don't sleep but that is a lie. Vampires sleep, the same as everyone else, and this one young vampire was sleeping particularly soundly, smiling to something in her sleep.

"This is good," Lucien nodded to himself. "She kept her humanity." One might wonder how it was of any importance to an organisation of professional assassins, but Lucien was very particular about his recruits. He touched her gently to try and wake her up. "She's cold," he noticed. "Hasn't fed in a while." Again, this met with his approval. There was no shortage of beggars in Cheydinhal or elsewhere, yet this vampire chose not to touch them. "Dervera is very perceptive, she must have seen a person behind the fangs... I imagine vampires don't often have the luxury of sleeping in a real bed at an inn."

For a moment he was inclined to leave her sleep, he could always come back another night. But what was the point in delaying? If she were to join them, she would have a bed of her own in the Sanctuary any time she wanted it... "Or would she refuse?" He watched her for a bit longer. "Refuse to become an assassin? How many had she already killed? Just one? And that by accident as well... it was clear there'd been no intent to murder... The only reason the Night Mother even considered it, was because of her lineage." He shook his head, thinking that perhaps they had been too quick to approach her, perhaps the Brotherhood should watch her for a bit longer. "She's with the Mages Guild, yet she chose to sleep at an inn... I wonder why..."

At that moment Lena suddenly sat up, forcing his hand.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer," he said, smiling. "That is good. For what I am about to propose, will require a certain detachment on your part."

The surprise and incomprehension on Lena's face were both amusing and common, and Lucien smiled again, thinking of other similar reactions. He wondered how this young Breton would react once she learned who he was and why he came.

"My name is Lucien Lachance and I am here with a proposition for you to join our organisation. We are assassins."

Antoinette Marie had jumped for joy, then couldn't stop talking about all the great murders she had committed, including that of the rat terrorising the cheese larder... Lucien almost came to regret ever talking to her. Taelendril on the other hand tried to kill him where he stood, and even almost succeeded in wounding him, then stopped immediately when she realised what he had to propose. Gogron... Gogron said nothing, just stood there with his mouth open, it took a while until he could believe what he was hearing... then he couldn't be more eager to join. But what about this new girl? How would she react?

Lena said nothing. She stood up from the bed, facing Lucien. His scent was making her blood boil, she hadn't fed in days. His robe hang loosely around his neck, the hood not covering much... Yet it wasn't his vein that caught her attention, but his eyes... Dark brown, almost black, looking at her with kindness and interest, smiling in the corners, as if he knew her already... Her heart fluttered. It wasn't a heartbeat yet, but it was enough to make her dizzy...

"...we are assassins," she finally heard, as if from far away. "My name is Lucien Lachance," her memory told her.

"She is confused," Lucien thought, watching Lena's expression. "Perhaps it is only natural. I did wake her up." He gave her a few moments to recover, then spoke again.

"I see I startled you, I apologise," he smiled again. "It is a tradition to visit new recruits at night. We prefer not to make our movements public."

Lena's dizziness had passed. She took a small step towards Lucien and now stood close enough to feel the warmth of his body without touching him. His scent... she would never forget that. She wanted to ask something... but her mouth felt dry, her tongue wouldn't turn, she was famished, yes, but it wasn't that... she didn't know what she was feeling, other than warmth... Her heart fluttered again.

"You prefer silence then," Lucien continued after a few moments. "That's just as well. Allow me to explain my visit. I am here to offer you to join our family, to join the Dark Brotherhood. We believe you have what it takes to become one of us. This is a virgin blade," he put an ebony dagger on the nightstand before Lena. "If you are to join us, kill Rufio at the Inn of Ill Omen. I shall visit you after that and explain the rest."

Lena looked at the dagger, then returned her eyes to Lucien's face. He was still smiling, but his glance became searching, may be even with a slight doubt peeking through... Lena nodded and smiled to him, she still could not speak, she breathed in sharply, that scent... it wasn't just the scent of warm blood... that particular scent, both bitter and sweet at once...

"Shall we say - a week?" Lucien touched the dagger. "If you don't kill him within a week, I shall understand that you don't wish to join us. You will then never see me again."

"What?!" Lena wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Never see him again... never again breathe in that scent..! Pain, sharp as an arrow, went through her heart. She looked up, it must have reflected on her face, because Lucien took a step forward and was now looking at her with worry.

"And they say vampires have no emotions," he thought, smirking to himself. "Why, this girl is in turmoil! Whatever the reason for that... she does look a lot like her mother... but there's more... that fire is new." He watched her for a short while, then continued.

"And if you are worried about being a vampire, then don't," he tried to sound reassuring. "We have other vampires among us, it isn't a problem as such." Lena seemed to be calming down. "If you choose to join us... you will be joining my group. We are a family and you will be most welcome. If you are anything like your mother was... and I think that you are... you will feel right at home."

At the mention of her mother Lena looked up, a question in her eyes.

"Oh yes, I knew your mother," Lucien nodded. "Not very well, but I remember her. She... did remarkable things," he chuckled, not wishing to go into any detail of what those things had been. "But this is not why I am here. My offer is to you on your own merit."

Lucien was standing so close to Lena, his robe almost brushed against hers. She felt the warmth of his body in a stark contrast to the cold of her own, it was like standing next to a fire... she hoped she wouldn't get burned... and even if she did, singed fingertips were worth toasted marshmallows any day... She closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the warmth, her nostrils flared, breathing in his scent again, so much stronger, now that he stood so close. Who was it that she needed to kill? Rufio something? She would not need a week.

She opened her eyes, her mind made up. She smiled and nodded, still not able to speak. They stood for a few moments, looking into each other's eyes.

"This isn't just another recruit," Lucien thought. "This one is special... How old is she? Sixteen? But a fledgling, in every sense, all alone in this world, with her grandmother gone. She's with the Mages of course, they sense she's special... but they don't know the history, we do. The Night Mother was right... I wonder why Arquen objected..? Bellamont seemed to be pleased, on the other hand... in particular when the Night Mother gave her to me... why, he nearly jumped for joy... how odd..."

Lena was getting dizzy again, more and more so with every breath she took. Her heart fluttered more and more, she pressed a hand to her chest and sat down on the bed, not wanting to faint then and there. Lucien moved to steady her, then took a step back.

"I think I shall see you again soon," he smiled. "Remember - it's Rufio at the Inn of Ill Omen. You know it, I trust? It's hard to forget an inn with such a name..." He grinned.

Lena nodded and smiled, he nodded back, making sure she was alright.

"Goodbye, child of Sithis." He snapped his fingers cloaking in chameleon, the door opened and closed and Lena heard his light footsteps on the stairs. His scent still linguered in the room, she inhaled it again and again... her heart gave another jolt... and then she had a heartbeat for the first time since that awful night when she turned. It wasn't true that vampires' hearts didn't beat. All it took was some warmth...

[Lena Wolf]

First Seed, 3E434 - Rufio

The Inn of Ill Omen stood not far from the place where Lena grew up. The nearby Faregyl Inn attracted the most customers except those who had issues with Khajiit cooking and those who knew who had the better ale.

"I don't know who named this inn, I bought it like that!" Manheim Maulhand would shrug to anyone who asked. "I don't care and I like the sign! Now, do you want ale or what?"

Lena liked Manheim, he was straightforward, as Nords often were, and he didn't ask undue questions. She was the girl from the Bluebell Cottage, she lived there with her Argonian grandmother who was in fact an old neighbour rather than family, having taken in Lena as a four year old orphan when her mother had died... There'd been talk about the father being someone important, but that eventually died down without any new leads. People got used to things being what they were.

"Hello, welp!" Manheim grinned when Lena entered his inn. He knew of her vampirism and regretted it for her but wasn't afraid and wasn't about to shun her for that. "Food and drink for you?"

"Hold it, Mani," she smiled. "I've got something to do first... I heard there's someone named Rufio staying at this inn, is that right?"

"Aye, that's right," Manheim looked at her searching. "Your rite of passage, is it?"

"Err..."

"I knew your mother," he shrugged. "And your grandmother... I am not surprised. I don't judge either. Rufio is downstairs. I think he's been expecting something like this."

"How do you mean?" Lena looked up. "Is he armed?"

"No, he is scared," Manheim looked sad. "I don't know what he's done to deserve it, and whether indeed he's done anything wrong at all... but he fears for his life, that much is clear. I think your test is of a different nature than you imagine. It's your call, welp. You have to make a choice."

Lena nodded and opened the door to the basement, fingering her new blade. Would she use it? It was time to find out.

...

Rufio was pacing his room. He was an old man, old and frail, and he was scared. May be he wasn't that old in years but fear of death aged him. He heard voices upstairs, then heard the door open and light footsteps go down the stairs - that wasn't Manheim. Someone was coming for him, he was certain.

The footsteps went down the corridor, he heard another door open and close, the person moved in the room for a bit, a bed creacked and all went quiet. It was just another guest... nothing to do with him.

It's been months since Rufio locked himself up in the basement room of the Inn of Ill Omen. Months of anguish, of waiting. Someone told him of a man in the Imperial City arrested for performing the Black Sacrament... Why should this worry him so much? People perform the Black Sacrament up and down the country, it had nothing to do with him, surely... What nonsense! No one would do that for him! And yet he could not shake the anguish, and when he came upon the Inn of Ill Omen, he saw it as a sign, rented a room and prepared to wait for death. But weeks turned into months and death wasn't coming.

"I should call for more ale," he realised tossing an empty jug into a corner. "Ale is good against ghosts and unfounded fears." He smirked at himself. What was he thinking! Of course that Black Sacrament was not meant for him! It was all in his head! Khajiit cooking wreaking havoc on his constitution! He should get some sleep, there was nothing to stay up for. The inn was quiet and Rufio went to bed.

He was sound asleep when Lena opened the door to the basement and descended the stairs, avoiding the creaky steps. She knew where she was going, she'd been coming there for years. She pushed the door to Rufio's room, finding it unlocked. An empty jug rattled on the floor as she entered, she steadied it and looked around the room.

Rufio was asleep in his bed, he would present no challenge. The test was indeed of a different nature: would she kill an old man in his sleep?

She came close and looked in his face - the man was twitching, his face contorted... but Lena could not decide whether he looked scared or angry. "Perhaps both," she thought. "I wonder what he had done, if anything at all... I wonder whether that matters..."

Although this would not be the first life she took, this would be the first life she took in cold blood. "This is quite different to killing people in battle," she reflected. "This has nothing to do with self defense... Here indeed it is my choice. Now I must decide."

Rufio must have felt someone standing over him because he turned over in his sleep but didn't wake up. He was now facing Lena, lying on his side, his shoulders slumped, his neck exposed. Lena suddenly realised that she hadn't fed in days... "Waste not, want not," she thought, kneeling over him.

...

Lena's vigin blade remained virgin, yet Rufio lay dead. He didn't have that much blood, and what he had, was so infused with alcohol that Lena felt quite unwell. She made it upstairs, Manheim took one look at her and pressed a jug of cold water into her hands.

"Go behind the inn... there's a bedroll there," he said shaking his head. "I want no mess in the house, and by the looks of you there will be a mess... You don't seem to hold your drink very well."

It was the worst night in Lena's life so far - never before had she been so sick. She swore to never feed on drunkards again, it just wasn't worth it. But when she woke in the morning, the job had been done and Manheim was hailing a passing legionnaire to send word that one of the guests had finally drunk himself to death and needed disposing of in a proper Imperial fashion. The legionnaire examined the corpse, took his name, made a note of paleness but didn't look any further as the stench of alcohol was simply too strong. "Totally pickled," he shook his head, backing off. "Someone will come and collect him," he said, handing Manheim a receipt. "Put him in the barn or something... we can skip the embalming, I think!" He grinned, mounted his horse and continued his slow patrol towards the Imperial City.

...

"Thank you for everything," Lena returned the jug to Manheim. "I'll be at the cottage, if it's still empty..."

"It is," Manheim nodded. "Be careful though... Empty cottages often attract bandits... It would be better if someone moved in."

"I don't think they will," Lena shook her head. "The roof isn't sound, the basement floods... grandma never worried about that. I'll deal with the bandits, have no fear," she smiled.

"I have no fear for you, Wolf," he smiled back. "Don't be a stranger."

[Acadian]

Wow, this brought back some very old memories! Lucien's syrupy invitation to join a loving family of brothers and sisters drew Buffy the orphan in like a moth to a flame. Like Lena, she stood over the sleeping Rufio and debated his fate for a long time. She let him sleep, however, deciding that killing without having a reason she clearly understood was not for her.

What a hoot that Lena got drunk from his boozy blood!

[Lena Wolf]

Wow, this brought back some very old memories! Lucien's syrupy invitation to join a loving family of brothers and sisters drew Buffy the orphan in like a moth to a flame. Like Lena, she stood over the sleeping Rufio and debated his fate for a long time. She let him sleep, however, deciding that killing without having a reason she clearly understood was not for her.

Indeed, the test turned out differently than what I had first expected. But Lena didn't have to think that long. She noted it, yes, but had no issues with it. Being a vampire had put a lot of things in perspective for her. She caught that disease by accident as no one warned her of the dangers, she felt unwell but left it untreated because the priests at the chapels were looking down at her with disdain and mistrust, an orphan like that was surely only there to steal their precious sweetrolls... And then she turned because she left it too long, and from that moment on she was shunned and assaulted without provocation. So no, killing Rufio just because someone asked her nicely, was no issue to her.

What a hoot that Lena got drunk from his boozy blood!

First time seriously drunk... Oh the joys of being a teenager!

[Lena Wolf]

First Seed, 3E434 - Hearthfire, 3E436 - Formative years

"It is so good to finally meet you!" Ocheeva greeted Lena when she pushed the ominous black door in the basement of the abandoned house in Cheydinhal and found herself in a spacious hall with tapestries and nice furniture. A pair of skeletal guardians were pacing it up and down, one turned to look at the newcomer, then turned away and continued its patrol. "Welcome! This is our Sanctuary."

An Argonian woman not unlike Lena's late grandmother was looking at her with those large amber eyes, her toothy mouth stretched in a smile. Of course Lena knew what an Argonian's smile looked like and wasn't in the least taken aback by the large number of sharp, pointy teeth bared at her.

"Thank you," she smiled back. "I... wasn't exactly sure what to expect."

"Lucien likes his little surprises," Ocheeva shook her head with a slight disapproval. "I keep telling him that new recruits have quite enough stress already... but he is stubborn like that. Anyway, I am Ocheeva, let me show you around."

Ocheeva introduced Lena to the other members of the group as most of them were present - resting, repairing their gear, training or tending to their wounds...

"Or gossiping!" A young girl similar in age to Lena giggled. "I'm Antoinetta Marie! It's so good to meet you, Sister! I'm sure we shall be the best of friends!"

"Umm..." Lena tried to politely extricate herself from Antoinetta's hug. "Charmed, I'm sure..." She mumbled something, not sure at all what to say that wouldn't cause offence.

"Oh, dispense with formalities! We're one happy family here!" Antoinetta continued cheerfully. "It's only too bad that Lucien doesn't visit all that often..." She frowned which made her look sad. "He doesn't get to see all the great murders that I commit! Because I'll have Ocheeva's job before long, mark my words! I'm sure of it! Lucien knows talent when he sees it!" She declared radiantly. "Of course, he does need to see it to know it..."

"Isn't he the head of this group?" Lena wanted to ask a million questions about him but quickly decided that Antoinetta was not to be trusted with anything personal or secret.

"He is, of course!" Antoinetta jumped on the topic. "He is our Speaker! But he doesn't run the group day to day..." She said with disappointment. "He's often on the road, speaking to clients, speaking to potential recruits, speaking to the Night Mother..." Her voice hushed at that. "And doing the most difficult contracts himself, too..." She added with awe. "Which means we don't get to see him very often!" Disappointment again. "Ocheeva is the actual acting head here, and Vicente handles the contracts of lower ranking members, that's you and me, since we're new. Vicente is nice... have you met him yet? No? You will like him, he's like you... a vampire!" Her eyes popped with excitement and secrecy and she lowered her voice saying it, and even brought a hand to her mouth as if to prevent the secret from getting out.

"I think I should go and meet him," Lena finally wedged a word in. "Nice talking to you, Antoinetta!" She lied and quickly slinked away.

"That's a slippery one," Antoinetta thought watching Lena get away. "Too interested in Lucien, too," she shook her head. "Doesn't she realise I was here first? The man's been taken, girl! He doesn't need a vampire..."

...

"Welcome, Sister!" Vicente greeted Lena as she pushed the door of his chamber, having seen him at the table. "Have you met the others yet? Some of them, yes... I think I heard Antoinetta's chatter... She can be a bit overwhelming at times," he chuckled. "But she means well... mostly..."

Lena looked around the room, finding it quite austere. Vicente didn't have a bed, preferring a stone slab instead. A cupboard, a chest of drawers and a table was all he had there, without any rugs or drapes.

"I got used to sleeping on a slab," he said, noticing Lena's glance. "There is no obligation to do it, it's just a habit of mine. You get a regular bed in the dormitory, the same as everyone else. You must refrain from feeding on our members, however."

"I would never..." Lena started saying, but Vicente gestured her to hold it.

"I am just saying so there would be no misunderstandings. You've read our tenets, I trust? There's a copy in the hall. No stealing, no assaults and no murders of the members of the Dark Brotherhood in general, not just those who belong to this Sanctuary. And no feeding, unless with consent. That's the same as with every other guild. But we also demand discipline, that is you cannot refuse a contract and you cannot change your mind about it, for whatever reason. You should try not to fail... Lucien won't kill you if you do, although he would be within his rights to punish your failure. So you have no reason to die on the job. If you find it too hard, return, ask for advice, improve yourself, then try again. Any contract we give you, should be within your skills... in theory..." He looked at Lena with doubt, wondering just how much better this youngster was going to be compared to Antoinetta who was notorious at failing her contracts. She got them in the end, but it was anything but a clean job. "And one last thing," he continued. "If you are in desperate need of feeding, yet cannot arrange it yourself for whatever reason, then come to me. I have bottled blood for such occasions. I do not feed here either, of course."

Lena must have looked quite overwhelmed. She kept smiling and nodding, trying to memorise everything she heard so far. She wasn't used to being accepted... but she liked the feeling. She hoped she would indeed fit right in.

"Well, if it isn't the new recruit that is all the hype," she heard a disdainful voice behind her when she was back in the hall. "You aren't even fit to polish my boots," the voice added with an unmistakable Khajiit twang.

"I don't do boots," Lena turned around to face him. "Brother."

"A lippy one, too!" The cat grimaced, baring his fangs that were rather larger, sharper and pointier than Lena's. "You watch your tongue, welp! There's only one reason I don't tear you to shreds where you stand: the tenets forbid it."

"Let's hope you hold to them then," Lena smiled.

...

Lena's advancement with the Dark Brotherhood was rapid at first. She took care to study her contracts, to listen to advice and to prepare, and not only she never failed, but also managed to fulfil those extra conditions that netted her bonuses as well as respect.

"She'll go far," Ocheeva summarised Lena's progress to Lucien. "Precise, meticulous, level-headed... but also impulsive and even explosive when not on the job... she's the one to watch."

"Is that impulsiveness going to be a problem?" Lucien looked up.

"No, I don't think so," Ocheeva shook her head. "This is no Antoinetta, make no mistake. She doesn't talk much either," Ocheeva added approvingly.

"What about her other affiliations?" Lucien was scanning Ocheeva's report. "The Blades? That's a bit odd..."

"It is, but I don't think we need to worry," Ocheeva inclined her head. "She's a vampire, and The Blades detest that. The late Emperor seemed to have seen more in her than what other people could see... of course she wasn't a vampire then. But still... The Septims are rarely wrong."

"She's an unusual child, indeed," Lucien nodded. "We'll keep her under observation."

"She is no child," Ocheeva gave him a long look. "You of all people should see it... if you only open your eyes."

Lucien didn't answer. He returned Ocheeva's gaze and she understood what he meant: it was out of the question. Ocheeva didn't insist, after all, at fourty two he was old enough not to need anybody's advice.

The Oblivion Crisis was in the meantime engulfing Cyrodiil, and Lena was drawn into it more and more, not leaving her much time for other affairs. Her progress thus stalled just before she reached the rank of Assassin. Yet she made it a point to visit the Sanctuary every now and again, in particular when she felt the need to see friendly faces. The Blades, indeed, scorned her and she felt being used... But at the same time the daedra were swarming, and her stealth and superiour strength as a vampire allowed her to go and close the gates with the minimum fuss, thus sparing the lives of many soldiers who would have perished before they could do it. She simply could not allow it to happen.

A year or two had passed, thwarting a daedric invasion was no simple matter. Lena got used to being a vampire, and for the most part her heart was lying still in her chest. She didn't feed often, partly because she loathed the process, and partly because going hungry gave her an edge in battle, albeit at the cost to her health. She fed as rarely as she could afford, often leaving her victims dead as a result. She got pretty good at locating sleeping bandits for supper... "Feed often and little without damage to the cattle, or feed rarely taking it all," an old vampire explained it to her once. "Do not leave half-drained victims. They would usually die of loss of blood anyway, so what's the point? All or nothing is a better way," he smiled. "If you only take a little, they will not even notice anything, save a small scar on the neck." Rationing feeding was the hardest thing to learn, but in time Lena was able to judge when to stop in order to avoid draining the victim.

The Mages Guild was the only other group of people besides the Dark Brotherhood who made no fuss at all about her being a vampire. They treated her the same as before - with indifference veiled in politeness. To be fair, they treated each other the same, so Lena felt no injustice. There were a few exceptions to the rule, Kud-Ei in Bravil and Deetsan in Cheydinhal took notice of both her loneliness and her abilities and offered her warmth and compassion. Dagail in Leyawiin saw more, but didn't want to say it. All in all, the mages offered her food, shelter and training, and Lena was grateful for that.

"You should avoid feeding on guild members, you know," Deetsan took Lena aside and spoke almost in a whisper. "I can smell it... I know Trayvond deserved it, the way he talked to you, but still. Don't do it again, it will only get you in trouble." She squeezed Lena's hand to indicate the end of that matter. Lena nodded and blushed. She would never feed on guild members again.


~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hearthfire, 3E436

Lucien got a summon from the Night Mother herself, bypassing the Listener. This was highly irregular, and therefore alarming. He went to Bravil without delay. There he went to the Listener's office first, he could not explain why, but the summon didn't forbid him to do it.

"I know of your summon," Ungolim greeted him, taking him aside. "It's been discussed in a closed meeting of the Black Hand..." He looked slightly uncomfortable saying it. "You weren't invited for a reason, the Night Mother will explain. Your Sanctuary is set for Purification."

"Details?" Lucien froze, his eyes cold as ice.

"There's a traitor in our midst," Ungolim spoke gravely. "You've heard the rumours, of course. We now have evidence that the traitor is one of your assassins. Yes, yes, you can see all the papers, they are on my desk," he waved his hand. "Anyone except for your most recent recruit could be the traitor, yourself included. And therefore she has to kill them all."

"Myself included?" Lucien's tone was still icy.

"She won't manage that, I don't think," Ungolim squinted. "But know that it has been suggested." He paused, trying to read Lucien's face, but Lucien betrayed no emotion. "I am uneasy with this decision, to tell you the truth. But you know how it works... the vote. I got overruled. Then the Night Mother issued her summon, I expect she will tell you more. These are dark times for the Brotherhood, my friend... dark times indeed."

Lucien was calm and composed. He collected the papers from Ungolim's desk, quickly scanning through them for now with the intent to study them later. The most recent recruit... she had just reached the rank of Assassin. She was no rookie any longer, no doubt, but she was no match for the likes of Vicente or Ocheeva either. "She will perish trying to perform Purification," he thought. "But if someone wanted her dead, there are easier ways... No, it is deeper than that. I wish Sarek was still alive... I wonder..." Sarek had been Lucien's Silencer, he was killed fulfilling a contract not long before that, but Lucien never believed that Sarek would fail like that. Something didn't add up. It was time to speak with the Night Mother.

...

Lucien entered the crypt and found it quite deserted. "A private meeting then," he looked around, but no, he was quite alone. "This doesn't bode well."

"Dark times are upon us, Speaker," he heard a hollow voice and a ghostly apparition of the Night Mother materialised in the crypt. "I called you here because I believe that the treason runs deeper than how it appears. Your Sanctuary has been set for Purification, you know what that means. Your most recent recruit has to do it... The Wolf child, yes. Or perhaps, a child no longer... We'll have to see. If her mother's spirit lives on in her, she might surprise us..."

"Do you have specific instructions?" Lucien looked at the ghost, but could not read its expression.

"It is up to you and her... you must work it out," the Night Mother breathed. "You're on your own, and should you break the tenets, you will be punished as always... You must get through it or die, whichever... If you survive and find the traitor, you will be forgiven, of course... but until then... good luck to you, Speaker."

The Night Mother stopped talking, her apparition linguered a little longer, then faded away. The audience was over. Lucien walked out of the crypt and returned to Cheydinhal. He spent the next few days locked up in his private residence at Fort Farragut studying the papers he got from Ungolim, reading and re-reading some of the past reports, including that on the death of Sarek, trying to understand and decide what to do. Then he penned a note and took it to Ocheeva. The Sanctuary was peaceful as ever, but for how much longer? He did not linguer and returned to Fort Farragut to await his most recent recruit.



~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: May 20 2024, 03:46 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E436 - Rain's Hand, 3E437 - Tenets

"I have summonned you here for a very special contract, Assassin," Lucien got up to greet Lena when she successfully made her way past the Dark Guardians of Fort Farragut reaching his private quarters. "Do you know what is Purification?"

He looked at her standing there, an iron breastplate worn over fine leather trousers, soft silent boots and no gloves, a short sword with an ice enchantment and a fine cutlass shimmering with a red wave, her Sufferthorn and her Shadowhunt, silver arrows, bottles of poison... She came prepared. But was she prepared for what he was about to ask?

"Purification?" She repeated the word as if tasting it. "No, what is it?"

"It is a rite when the whole Sanctuary gets purged," he explained. "Everyone killed. It is used under extreme circumstances when there's ample evidence that one of the members is a traitor, yet it isn't entirely clear which one. There have only been a handful of Purifications in the whole history of our Brotherhood... It is a rather extreme measure, as you can see." He paused, watching Lena's reaction. She nodded but said nothing, and he continued. "Purification can be ordered either by the vote of the Black Hand, or by the Night Mother herself. It is always a grave decision. Once ordered, it cannot be refused, the one tasked with it must fulfil such a contract or die trying... Disobeying this order leads to immediate exile, I trust you know what that is?"

"I'd have to face the Wrath of Sithis every time I sleep," Lena nodded. "The wraith would grow in strength with each encounter."

"You..?" Lucien was surprised. "Pray tell, how do you figure?"

"I've heard the rumours about the traitor, of course. Say is, it is one of us. But none of us can imagine who that could be..." She sighed. "I reckon they want to Purify us. And since I am standing here, I assume this burden will fall on me." She looked straight at him, her face set in resolve.

"Very good, Assassin," Lucien smiled. "Very good indeed." He walked over to his desk and laid out papers on it. "Come and study these. This is the evidence that convinced the Black Hand to issue a Purification order for our Sanctuary. Everyone is to be killed except you and me. You are exempt because you joined after the rumours had started, and I am exempt because the Black Hand wanted to do it themselves," he smirked. "Read it all for yourself, and then tell me what you plan to do. The order of Purification falls to you."

Lena shot him a glance, then sat at his desk and buried herself in the papers.

She wasn't trying to make up her mind, she already knew the moment he started speaking about it, that she would never do it. Instead, she was looking for clues of treason much higher up, among the people who ordered Purification. Alas, the papers did not give any answers. It was a collection of random notes about all sorts of things, from Antoinetta's love of garlic and Vicente's allergy to it, to Ocheeva's indulgence in romantic novels, to gossip of Gogron's and Telaendril's affair involving a missing pair of knickers...

"But this is nonsense!" Lena finally exclaimed. "How can this be seen as proof?"

"It is seen as proof of breakdown in discipline in my group," Lucien picked up one of the notes. "Here, for instance: M'raaj-Dar laying traps for Scheemer the rat... Not to mention the fact that we have a pet rat at all." He tossed the note onto the pile. "No? You are not convinced?" Lena shook her head. "Then what are you going to do, Assassin? I, your Speaker, pass onto you the order to Purify our Sanctuary. It will of course require you to break our tenets and murder your Brothers, but in this case you will be excused. Refusing this order would break another tenet, and for that you will be exiled. What is your choice, Assassin?"

"I refuse."

"Indeed?" Lucien looked mildly surprised, his face not betraying any real emotion. "Are you quite sure? It is a serious matter. This isn't a regular contract, you will be watched in your exile. Any further transgressions will carry a death sentence - assassins will be sent after you." He paused, letting his words sink in. "I grant you a chance to reconsider. You may leave to think on that and come back tomorrow. But keep it to yourself - this must remain a secret."

He turned away from Lena and busied himself tidying the papers on his desk.

The prospect of exile and possible assassins was indeed daunting. Lena was growing cold but her resolve did not falter. What did he say, exactly? "I pass this order onto you," she tried to recall Lucien's words. Not "I order you", she noticed. "He doesn't believe it either," she realised. "Should I just tell him..? He might strike me down where I stand... or he might not..."

She closed her eyes, trying to focus. Her senses were sharp, she heard small noises further in the fort, she smelled food and poisons in the room... She smelled no fear. Her Speaker was resolved to see it through, with or without her help. She did not need to think on that.

"Speaker, I am with you," she said and Lucien turned around to face her. "I refuse to Purify our Sanctuary. The traitor needs to be found, but admittedly I don't have a plan."

"Well, Assassin, if you are sure..." Lucien watched her for a few moments, then smiled and nodded. "Very well. Your exile begins now. Next time you sleep, you will face the Wrath of Sithis. Be ready."

He locked away the papers and walked over to the corner of the room set up as a small laboratory.

"These are poisoned apples," he pointed at a barrel with an ominous lid. "You know them, I trust? You may take these as needed, save your money for other matters... M'raaj-Dar makes too much profit on them." He walked over to a rope ladder, barely visible in the dark. "You can exit and enter through here," he pointed at it. "Do not abuse it, this is still my personal space... but you will need to come here sometimes. Yes, I do have a plan... the beginning of a plan, at least."

He walked back to the middle of the room where lighting was better.

"From now on you will receive contracts directly from me. Do not return to the Sanctuary, it is now out of bounds. The Black Hand may send someone else to perform Purification, but I trust Ocheeva to organise defense. Oh yes, they are allowed to resist! And they will."

He paused, then took a scroll from his desk.

"Here is your first contract. This is straightforward as you receive it from me. When it is complete, collect your reward and your next contract from the location mentioned in this scroll - this is called a dead drop. The next contract will have the location of the next dead drop, and so on. We won't meet again until I decide otherwise."

Lena was listening with rapt attention. She glanced at the scroll and saw a location described in the end. This was indeed straightforward.

"As I said, this contract is plain, just execute it," Lucien smiled. "But starting with the next one, investigate it first. Your refusal to Purify our Sanctuary will force the traitor to change tactics, and I expect some of the dead drops to be switched. Your task will be first to look for clues and decide whether the contract is fake or real. If you think it is fake, bring here your proof that the target should not be killed. If you think the contract is real, eliminate the target." He paused, but Lena said nothing, still listening closely. "But be warned, Assassin: every contract that you choose not to fulfil will count as a transgression, regardless of whether you were right or wrong. Contracts are not meant to be evaluated, assassins are required to follow them to the letter... You will be breaking a tenet by choosing to spare the target. It won't be an easy choice."

He stopped talking and took a few paces to break the tension.

"I understand, Speaker," Lena finally spoke, her voice sounding hoarse. "I shall come here when I have proof."

"Sithis be with you, Sister." Lucien came quite close to Lena and once again she could feel his warmth. He smiled and looked at her with the same kindness and interest as on the night they met. "It seems I was right about you," he said softly. "Now stay strong, the trial is only just beginning."

...

Life in exile was harder than Lena had imagined. The Wrath of Sithis was not a simple wraith, and fighting it in her sleep presented challenges of its own. How does one prepare for a fight during sleep? On the first night Lena found herself armed with a rusty dagger... hardly a suitable weapon against a wraith! Yet she prevailed using her magic. On the second night she had a silver sword but the wraith grew in strength and wielded an Elven longsword... and again Lena had to rely on magic to win. On the third night the wraith had a claymore...

"This will get me killed," Lena thought when she woke up with cuts oozing her dark undead blood. "The wounds I sustain in my sleep are very real." She treated her wounds and resolved not to sleep every night. "I am a vampire, I don't need it as much," she told herself. "Let's see what else a vampire is capable of."

Sleeping less frequently allowed her a welcome break from fighting the wraith, although her days were still filled with fighting daedra, closing Oblivion gates and running errands for the Blades. The dead drops for Lucien also kept coming, sending her all over the country. She tried her best to deduce which were real and which were fake, she'd been to Lucien's fort a few times already to leave her reports, and not once did she meet him there. Once she thought she just missed him - there was fire in the grate with a roast still cooking... yet Lucien wasn't there. Lena left, not wishing to intrude.

"He could have been cloaked," she realised when she stood outside. "The smell of the roast would have masked his scent... Perhaps I should check next time." But she never did check, allowing Lucien to stay hidden if that was what he chose to do.


~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rain's Hand, 3E437

The number of times that she chose not to fulfil her contracts kept growing, it seemed that most contracts were being switched. She was becoming weary both with anxiety that she got them wrong and with the expectation of assassins that Lucien had warned her about. Then one night she experienced the first attack.

As a vampire, Lena traveled at night. She didn't feed often enough to grant her immunity to sunburn, and as a result her dialy routine became largely nocturnal, except for shopping and dealing with the Blades. Shopping she tended to do immediately after feeding when her vampirism was barely noticeable, but the Blades did not deserve such courtesy in her opinion and she'd visit them regardless of how famished she was... She'd arrive at the Cloud Ruler Temple at night and remain indoors until the following sunset.

"What do you want this time?" Jeoffrey would wrinkle his nose seeing Lena waiting in the hall.

"I have business with Martin," she would reply in an even tone, while her blood boiled. Yet feeding on soldiers was a bad idea and she refrained from ever attacking them, regardless of the insults.

"His Highness the Emperor will be here shortly," Jeoffrey would invariably reply with as much disdain as he could muster, and Lena would say nothing to that. Martin wasn't the Emperor, he was the late Emperor's bastard son, no more. The memory of Lena's encounter with the Emperor was still vivid in her mind... He saw right into her soul. She wasn't a vampire then, of course, but she was a convict which was worse to some... and even if she had been a vampire, she somehow felt that it would not have mattered. Martin was not an Emperor. He was not his father and he treated Lena with the same disdain as the rest of the Blades. But she made a promise to Uriel Septim and she intended to keep it, insults or no insults. A daedric invasion was more important than petty squabbles with the Blades.

One night on the road to the Cloud Ruler Temple Lena got attacked. It was a masterful ambush, she didn't see it coming. The attacker was quiet and remained down wind from her so she could not smell him either. He tried to stab her heart but her iron breastplate got in the way, she jumped away, but he was upon her again, stabbing whatever he could reach with his silver shortsword... Ouch, that hurt! Each wound felt like it was on fire. Finally Lena managed to cast a vanishing spell and jump away successfully this time. She had no strength left to continue the fight, she just hoped to get away... she ran and hid in a nearby cave as the sun was about to rise.

Lena stayed in that cave until the following night. Her wounds stopped burning after a while, yet she was weak. She hoped to find some bandits further inside, she had a trick for bandits... she didn't seek to kill them, she just wanted to feed. She moved cautiously, listening to every sound. Three or four people were inside, she heard their conversation, they were drinking by the fire. Some of them were men. Lena removed her breastplate and stashed it behind a rock along with most of her weapons. She opened up her shirt and walked towards the fire with unsure steps that made a lot of noise.

"Who's there?" One of the bandits turned to look. "We are armed, I'm warning you!" He said menacingly.

"I am not looking for a fight," Lena said in a small voice stepping into the light. "Have you any food? I haven't eaten in days..."

"Oh look who's here," one of the bandits grinned, looking her over. "We have food, girl, but it ain't free."

"I'll pay... however I can..." Lena looked pleadingly at them.

"Payment first," the bandit got up, unbuckling his belt. Lena ran into the darkness of the cave with the man following.

"Leave him to it," the others returned to their drink. "He'll be back soon enough, she ain't no match for him."

"Isn't she a vampire though?" One of the bandits kept looking into the darkness. "Vampires have powers, don't they?"

"Ancient vampires have powers," another one shook his head. "Not young fledglings like that one... one hit will knock her out, I've fought them often enough."

It was true, one hit would have likely knocked Lena out, weak as she was, but she didn't look for a fight. She ran into a dead end and turned around.

"There you are," the man was hot on her hills. "No where to run now," he grinned, but didn't pick up his weapon. "Come on," he stepped closer, his hand on his belt.

Lena leapt. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist and sank her fangs into his neck. The man staggered from surprise more than the force of impact, he braced her in a reflex before realising what just occurred. "Get off me, foul vampire!" He tried to scream, but Lena was pressing down his larynx and no sound came out. It didn't take long and the man felt weak in the knees, he dropped to the ground and Lena pushed him over without releasing her grip. Finally he moved no more.

"Gee, this is a big guy," Lena got up feeling slightly dizzy. "I might have overdone it..." she held her stomach for a few moments, then straightened up. "No, that's too much, I won't finish him." She looked into his face, he was pale but still breathing. She put a dagger through his heart.

...

When Lena finally emerged from that cave, her wounds were healed, the sun was already up but she had nothing to fear. She retraced her steps meaning to continue on her way to the Cloud Ruler Temple. Then, as she approached the place where she got ambushed, something caught her eye. There was a corpse in the bushes, the assassin's throat had been expertly slit by a hand more skilled than his own. "Thank you, Speaker," Lena said under her breath and continued on to see the Emperor's son at the Temple.


~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: May 20 2024, 03:53 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Rain's Hand, 3E437 - Exile

Lucien had been exiled the moment the Purification order was issued. He was one of the suspects, and as the head of the group he got all the blame. Facing the Wrath of Sithis in his sleep was a mere nuisance at first, but the wraith quickly grew in power and within a few nights started to pose a significant challenge. Like Lena, Lucien began avoiding sleep, but unlike Lena, he suffered without it. When loss of concentration made him walk into a bandit ambush without realising it, he suddenly understood the real danger brought on by that wraith: he would either sleep every night and see its power grow until it killed him, or he would forego sleep and be killed by bandits during the day. "I need to find a way to sleep without the wraith appearing," he realised.

There were many ways to alter one's dreams, many potions to take, incense to burn, he tried a few, and his dreams changed but the wraith was still there. The worst of it was the dizziness in the morning, the slow brain, shaky movements, headaches and the like. No, that would not do. Perhaps there was someone he could consult on the matter?

His first thought was to summon Vaermina since nightmares were her domain. But did the Wrath of Sithis really count as a dream? Still, it was worth a try. Vaermina had a task for him, a very simple task to retrieve a stolen artefact from a ruin, he was surprised at that. It would have been hard for someone less skilled in stealth, but Lucien simply sneaked past all the monsters, got to the end of the maze and snatched that item without as much as setting off a single trap...

"You were successful, mortal," Vaermina was pleased. "What do you wish as a reward?"

"Rid my dreams of the Wrath of Sithis," Lucien asked.

"Oh, but that is no ordinary dream!" Vaermina exclaimed. "You have been punished... Have you suffered enough? Who is to say... The Wrath of Sithis will leave you alone when your debt has been repaid... I have no power over it. But I can help you, mortal. Take my Skull of Corruption, it will accompany you in your dreams. Use it to give you an edge in battle."

The Skull of Corruption was helpful, for it created a twin of the Wrath of Sithis that attacked the original wraith. With the two of them locked in combat, Lucien could save his strength and only needed to fight if the twin was defeated... which was about half of the time. It was an improvement but not a solution.

After some time Lucien heard of a Glenmoril witch living on a remote farm in Cyrodiil. He sought her out and explained his request.

"The Wrath of Sithis cannot be removed by a mere mortal, not even a Glenmoril witch!" She smirked. "But I can help you withstand it. Do you remember the life you took as your rite of passage when your future Speaker came to you in the dead of night with an offer to join the Brotherhood? That ghost can help you."

"I very much doubt it," Lucien shook his head. "I killed that Speaker."

"And were accepted?"

"That was the test..." He smiled. "He wanted me to kill a Morag Tong assassin."

"Forgive me if I misunderstand," the witch gave him a long look. "But is Morag Tong not a mortal enemy of the Dark Brotherhood? That request should not have been a problem..."

"My father is with Morag Tong."

"But not you?" The witch looked confused. "I think the Wrath of Sithis is the least of your worries. Why live your life on an edge like that? You could have joined Morag Tong."

"I could have," Lucien nodded. "But I didn't. I do not see eye to eye with Mephala," he smirked.

"No mortal does," the witch nodded. "Fine, don't tell me. I doubt you need my help anyway. You make unusual choices, Speaker... You know what will call off the wraith. I don't think it will leave until that happens. This is a test of survival."

The witch looked at him and he thought that she knew exactly what was going on. Could she read his mind? Or had she simply lived long enough to know how things worked? She may not have known the details but she grasped the essence well enough. "If you survive and find the traitor, you will be forgiven," he recalled the words of the Night Mother. Survive. "It is up to you and her," was another thing she said. "The Wolf child... or perhaps a child no longer."

"I thank you for your advice," Lucien put a grand soul gem on the table. "I understand this is the usual fee?"

"Indeed," the witch took it. "Good luck to you, Speaker."

...

"I should look in on her," Lucien thought on his way back to Fort Farragut. "She is still so young... bright as she is, this task might just prove too hard. How does she deal with the wraith, I wonder?"

He entered his quarters in the fort and made a fire, put a roast on a spit. He would rest and prepare for his nightly fight against the wraith. Once done, he could sleep the rest of the night undisturbed. Perhaps it was all it took - perseverance. Was the wraith still growing in strength? Or was he simply expecting it? He was not sure, and decided to stop wasting his efforts on that. It was just another fight, he would take it one at a time, get it over with and get on with trying to track down the traitor. Lena had brought him a few reports already, they were most disturbing...

He got up thinking to review them again when he heard the trapdoor being raised - Lena must have brought another report. He quickly cast on his chameleon cloak and retreated into a dark corner of the room. Lena entered. She looked around as if sensing him, he held his breath - vampires had superior senses. He was sure she could detect him, with magic if anything. She breathed in sharply, noticed the roast, turned to look at the corner where he stood, but didn't cast a spell and didn't seem to detect him. She put a scroll and a dagger on the table and left without another glance. He heard her linger outside for a little while, then all was quiet again.

"She knew I was here," he thought. "Or at least suspected it. Yet she didn't check, didn't intrude... remarkable, really." He walked over to the table to look at her latest report. "The Listener's Blade of Woe," he picked up the dagger she'd brought. "The stakes are getting higher by the minute. She will get assassins for this..." He shook his head, reading her notes. "She spared him, good. And now she knows who he is... We should hurry."

It was a fair notion, but he could not proceed any faster than what he already was doing. Tracking down a traitor who was that skilled, was difficult indeed. Lucien gathered it was one of the Black Hand, but he needed definitive proof rather better than a collection of private notes about pet rats and missing knickers. He had his suspicions, but still wasn't sure which of the suspects it was exactly, or even if there was more than one. Perhaps there was something he overlooked? He read Lena's report once again.

"I spared Ungolim because I believe he is the Listener," she wrote. "The text of the contract was my first clue - it isn't your style."

It was only then that Lucien noticed another scroll on the table, that with the contract. He scanned it.

"What pompous nonsense!" He couldn't help laughing at some turns of the phrase in it. "...and end his miserable existence!" He read. "By Sithis, who writes contracts like that? No wonder she grew suspicious. It is indeed not my style. She's getting to know me, that's good, I suppose."

Lena was not hard to find or to follow, she didn't try to hide. Her efforts in closing Oblivion gates and her affiliation with the Blades became public knowledge; she was the Hero of Kvatch and Bruma, a talented Evoker of the Mages Guild, a faithful defender of the Empire and her people... The rumours even omitted her minor affliction of vampirism because, let's face it, the Saviour of Cyrodiil could not possibly be a vampire!

"I bet she's hating every moment of that fame," Lucien thought watching her emerge from the Cloud Ruler Temple with a scowl on her face. "Where to next, Saviour? Oh look - an Oblivion gate. Go for it, blow off some steam..."

She went in and a few hours later the gate collapsed with a pop, and Lena appeared outside it holding yet another sigil stone. She tossed it into the grass and engaged a stray clannfear nearby.

"She's got a sense of humour, she does," Lucien chuckled watching Lena summon a Xivilai who summoned his own clannfear to fight the one left behind by the Oblivion gate. "Let's hope she fares as well against a skilled assassin..."

Lucien could not shadow Lena too often, he really only did it when he was in the area anyway. Applewatch near Bruma used to be a Dark Brotherhood safehouse, and it probably still was safe for everyone except him. Members of the Black Hand came there regularly, and Lucien hoped for some notes or papers to be left behind, anything to give him a clue. He lingered in the area watching it when he saw Lena once again on her way to the Cloud Ruler Temple. Then he saw an assassin jump out of an ambush, there was a short struggle, then Lena vanished, leaving the assassin perplexed. "She's wounded, she's losing this fight," Lucien moved closer. "He's got a silver sword... but she got away. Perhaps I should give her a hand." He picked up a pebble and threw it at the assassin who immediately turned around, thinking it came from Lena. Lucien led him away from a nearby cave where, he figured, Lena must have been hiding, then using the assassin's own ambush surprised him and slit his throat. "Sorry, Brother," he looked down at him with regret. "But this contract was a trap."

...

The Applewatch finally yielded a clue - Arquen left a letter to the other members of the Black Hand calling them to murder Lucien Lachance without delay and then redouble their efforts in Purifying his Sanctuary. "With him dead, the members of the Sanctuary will be demoralised which will make them into much easier targets!" She wrote. "The Black Hand must unite in eliminating this threat to our Brotherhood! The Listener can overrule us no longer, and then he too can be replaced!"

"This is dangerous stuff," Lucien shook his head. "I should warn Ocheeva. Let's hope they don't get to me first."

But, as dangerous as that letter was, it struck him as a work of a zealot rather than a traitor. "It isn't Arquen that we seek," he thought. "She wants to kill me in order to protect the Brotherhood. She is no traitor. So, if not Arquen, then who?"

He didn't have an answer to that. It was time to talk to someone who'd been around longer than himself - Vicente.

...

Going to the Sanctuary was a great risk, both for Lucien personally and for the members of the Sanctuary, but he had to do it. Knowing that most of them would be asleep at night, he pushed the Black Door in the abandoned house in the early hours of the morning. He half expected having to fight a Dark Guardian but that wasn't necessary. Teinaava was in the hall, on watch. He spun around hearing the door open, his sword at the ready, then sheathed it and smiled seeing Lucien.

"Good to see you, Speaker," he said in a whisper. "Even if you do bring grim tidings. Things are still heating up, I fear."

"It is as you say," Lucien nodded. "Casualties?"

"None so far," Teinaava said not without certain pride. "Wounded - yes, but we are still holding."

"Stay strong," Lucien smiled at him. "Remember our training. With two Shadowscales here, you must survive."

"Go on," Teinaava stood in front of the door to the dormitories. "I shall guard the door until you're done. I don't suppose you want interruptions."

Lucien nodded and slipped into the corridor leading to Ocheeva's and Vicente's rooms.

...

"This is serious," Ocheeva looked up having read Arquen's missive. "We are holding up alright here but indeed, should you be killed, the morale will falter. How is Wolf?"

"Alive," Lucien smiled but his eyes betrayed worry. "They started with the assassins."

"She must resist them, we cannot help," Ocheeva looked worried too. "You must shadow her, she is your pupil."

"I..?" Lucien raised an eyebrow. "It was you who trained her, not I!"

"And you trained me, at least in part," Ocheeva shook her head. "We cannot help her, so you must."

"What Ocheeva really means," Vicente joined the conversation, "is that Wolf cannot fail, at least not yet. And things are still heating up, she may not be ready. I'm sure you can figure it out." He paused, giving a look to Ocheeva to change the topic, then turning to Lucien. "You didn't come here to be lectured on your recruit. So, how can we help?"

Lucien smiled and moved Arquen's scroll out of the way.

"You've been here the longest, Vicente," he started. "You remember things that went on before any of us joined. I think the root of the matter may go very deep indeed."

"What do you want to know?" Vicente sat back, ready to answer questions.

"Remember that business with the Crimson Scars? Greywyn Blenwyth was Wolf's great-great-uncle or something," Lucien looked at Vicente. "We cleared his Sanctuary and I killed him myself, but I think someone may have escaped... they were taking on new people too, who had never been with us and therefore did not need removing, strictly speaking..."

"And you think the traitor is going to use it against her?" Vicente looked concerned.

"They were vampires, some were ancient... even though we killed them, they would have risen again by now..." He paused, thinking. "Wolf is lonely. She is an orphan and a vampire. I've seen her go to one or the other coven, but she didn't seem to have been accepted. Plus, people shun her, of course... It would be too easy to lay a trap for her this way."

"Then you must watch her," Vicente inclined his head. "Ocheeva was right after all. No coven will accept her as yet, she is too fresh a fledgling... But she does not know it and I cannot leave to guide her," he added with regret. "There may be links to her great-great-uncle or even to her mother - she was a Breton and Bretons like to remember their family links, I should know... except when they are vampires, of course," he smirked to himself. "Either way, you must watch her, save her life and discover the traitor all in one."

"She is bait, then," Lucien looked grim.

"It looks like that was the plan," Vicente nodded. "Keep her alive and she will lead you to the traitor. And stay alive yourself while doing it." Lucien looked up and Vicente pointed at Arquen's scroll. "This is no empty threat. If the Black Hand unites against you... I don't think you'll survive."



~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: May 20 2024, 03:55 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear, 3E437 - A trap

"This contract is for an ancient vampire," Lena read a scroll she picked up from a dead drop. "It says to prepare well - this job will be difficult. There will be other vampires around, and I may have to eliminate them too before I can get to the target. This almost sounds too difficult..." She mused. "Does the Speaker trust me that much or is this a trap?"

She would investigate this contract first, the same as any other dead drop, but she didn't think this ancient vampire was a member of the Brotherhood. Even if the contract had been switched, there was no reason to spare him. "I am to bring proof why I chose to spare the target, or why I thought the contract was fake," she tried to recall Lucien's words. "Does it mean I don't have to kill the target even if it is not a Brother? Hmm... Well, it's investigate first anyway. Let's see what I can find."

The vampire was to be found in one of the Ayleid ruins. Lena had visited many such ruins and knew to expect traps as well as hostile tenants, with traps often being more deadly. Investigating this vampire would mean going through the entire ruin first looking for clues. She took care to be prepared, she waited a day after feeding to allow her senses to sharpen, then she went in.

The ruin was filled with traps and undead, just as Lena expected. The first section yielded no clues, so she went deeper in. The next section had vampire scouts, she tried to talk to them, but they attacked, she won without much trouble. "That's an unfriendly bunch," Lena shook her head. "The contract was right - there is no talking to them. These were just scouts, I should be careful of what is to come."

She took care to search that section thoroughly as well, and in one of the Ayleid casks she found an old letter with mold eating its edges. Much of the writing was smudged and faded with time, but a few words stood out. "...Delacour... ...Brotherh... ...istant famil..." She froze. Delacour was her mother's last name, she had been a Dark Brotherhood assassin. Could the ancient vampire residing here be in fact family? "Or it could be a trap," a voice of reason said in her head. "This could have been fabricated."

It could have been; but could she really afford to ignore it? What if... what if it was true? What if once the vampire knew who she was... What, exactly? "Receive you with open arms?" The voice of reason in her head was mocking. "May be... you never know," the voice of hope replied. "Well, don't drop your guard, regardless!"

Lena stashed away the letter and prepared to continue her exploration.

The next section she tried had more unfriendly vampires and several undead. The fights were difficult enough and she got wounded. She stopped the bleeding but her endurance took a dent. And then, when she started searching the halls for evidence, a new wave of undead arose. "This is a crypt!" Lena realised. "I eliminated the intruders, and now the guardians rise again to eliminate me!"

Wraiths were never easy to fight. Even though vampires were largely immune to cold, repeated curses did have an effect. Lena was growing hungry, it would not take long and she'd be famished, and then she'd start losing health to hunger alone...

By the time Lena managed to defeat the guardian wraiths, she grew completely cold herself, with any benefits of her recent feeding vanished. The casks in the crypt held no new clues. All the fighting had been for naught.

"Well, I mustn't get discouraged," she told herself. "I could not have known it until I searched. May be the next hall will have something."

Retracing her steps to the previous section and trying another door, she entered another hall with vampires and wraiths, and more fighting followed. Again, Lena's endurance took a dent. The search afterwards yielded another mold-covered letter with just a few legible words: "...Lilian... ...dau...hter... ...Niben Bay...".

"Something about my mother and me living near the Niben Bay..." Lena quickly put it together. She stashed away the letter and resolved to search for more.

The ruin was vast. So many doors leading to passages, halls and crypts, some of them having more moldy letters, most just having vampires and wraiths. By the time Lena made it into the depths, she was tired and her hunger started making her weak. Any advantage in strength that she had from being a vampire, was now erased. Only her senses kept serving her well, now as sharp as ever.

"The ancient vampire must be in this section," Lena realised, inhaling the stale air. "The scent has changed." Perhaps she should just leave? She was certain that contract wasn't from Lucien. But how could she leave without finding out who the vampire was? And what about all those letters? She had to know at least whether they were real or fake. She decided to proceed with caution.

The halls were empty, it seemed the vampire liked solitude. Yet he was there somewhere, and Lena followed the scent. She was as quiet as she could make it but she had no illusions that the vampire could smell her as well.

"Well well, the Wolf child is here," she heard a hoarse voice but couldn't see anyone - the vampire was cloaked. "Has your Brotherhood served you well? Is your loving family really worth it? How do you like fighting a wraith every time you sleep?"

"I don't like it, it is exhausting," Lena said, trying to pinpoint the vampire's location. "Who are you?"

"Haven't you found the letters?" The vampire chuckled, his voice kept moving around the hall. "I knew your mother... knew of her, anyway... we are indeed family, distant, but family still... What did you expect?"

A direct question like that made Lena stop in her tracks. What did she expect, indeed?

"I hoped for guidance on how to be a vampire," she said, still looking around.

Sudden pain pierced her body, she felt weak and dropped to her knees; the room started spinning, she was about to black out... but she didn't, the dizziness passing after a while. She got up, still shaking.

"This was your first lesson," the vampire's voice spoke again. "I cannot drink your undead blood but I can absorb your life force anyway. A mortal would have now been infected with vampirism... isn't it how you got it yourself? It is a common enough spell, that..."

"I don't use it," Lena said defiantly. "I know it spreads the disease."

"A world improver, eh?" The vampire laughed with derision. "The Hero of Kvatch and Bruma! Oh yes, I read the papers... And what did you gain from your connection to the Blades? From your audience with late Uriel Septim? Respect, riches perhaps?" He laughed again. "But no, you are shunned by both mortals and vampires alike! Vampires cannot be heroes, girl! You have to choose a side!"

Another flash of pain pierced her body, her blood seemed to boil, her skin was ablaze... Then the pain subsided, but weakness remained.

"Fire, we cannot stand it," the vampire's voice spoke. "I hate the singed fingertips this spell leaves in its wake, but I wager the effect is worth it. Is it not so, my pupil?" He shrieked, and Lena startled - the voice was very close. Then she smelled him, a stale scent of old paper laced with nirnroot and nightshade... She lunged at the scent, swinging her cutlass wildly until she felt it slice flesh, she lunged again, and dark drops appeared on the floor - the vampire was bleeding. "Insolent child!!" He cried and burning wounds slashed Lena's thighs, her iron breastplate still keeping her chest protected. "Attacking me!! I shall kill you where you stand!!!"

Another powerful attack cut into Lena's neck above the breastplate, another fireball burned her through... "This is the end, he will kill me," she thought, her mind detaching from her body. "This was a trap all along..."

"Escape!!" A voice of reason shouted in her head. "You are a vampire still, you are not dead, so run!! And hope he won't follow!"

She ran. With the last of her strength she cast on her invisibility cloak and ran for the door. The cloak would be dispelled on the other side, her only hope was that the vampire would not follow...

She ran through the halls jumping over traps, but she was in panic and she missed here and there. The wounds left by the traps caused additional bleeding, she was growing weaker and weaker, it would not take long and she'd collapse...

When she finally made it to the first hall and saw the door leading out, she stopped. The vampire wasn't chasing her, she was alone. She was badly wounded, she was famished too, she should at least bandage her wounds. She sat on a sarcophagus and went about it.

"She's been there for a day now," she suddenly heard a voice near the entrance. "She must be dead. We can go and loot the place."

"The place had already been looted," another voice objected. "When we put those letters. We're just here to collect the reward."

"What reward?" The first voice sounded dubious.

"A reward for a job well done," the second voice chuckled. Lena realised that the two men were headed deeper into the ruin, so she quickly collected her things and followed them.

"Mind the traps in this section," one man said to the other. "They'll likely kill you quicker than any vampire."

"How much further?" The other man sounded uncertain.

"It's behind the crypt," Lena heard rustling paper, they must have been looking at a map. "Let's hope she cleared it for us, or else we'll have to run past the wraiths."

"Run past the wraiths?! Are you sure?!" The fear in the man's voice was unmistakable.

"He's sweating already," Lena realised, as the scent hit her nostrils.

"It will be worth it, you'll see," the first man sounded reassuring. "You'll never earn that much coin with a single job!"

He pushed the door to the crypt and let out a sigh of relief.

"Phew! No wraiths," he said with glee. "Mat did say she'd be thorough. Come on! It's in the next hall."

Lena stopped following. The next hall was the one with the ancient vampire. Should she warn these two idiots that they were the payment, in fact? And who was Mat? This was a lead too good to miss... but how to proceed?

She didn't have time to think about it, one of the men was already pushing the door to the hall. Lena didn't follow.

Instead, she stood waiting. The walls of the Ayleid ruin were thick, the doors closed tightly, and no sound escaped from the other hall, but of course she knew what was going on. The vampire would feed. One man would be dead already, the other might still be alive, subdued, left for later. The vampire's senses would dull immediately after feeding... It was now or never.

She pushed the door and entered the hall.

She didn't know what she hoped to find, but this was the one hall she hadn't searched. The vampire wasn't cloaked, he was still feeding on one of the men. "He's keeping both of them alive," she realised. "They are to be cattle... well well." Keeping an eye on the vampire, she stayed in the shadows at a distance. She found an alcove crammed with books and scrolls, a small laboratory was next, an enchanting station, other magical tools... "This explains the smell of old tomes, nirnroot and nightshade about him," she realised. "He is a mage. Oh look - this letter looks new." She stashed it away without reading, there was no time. The vampire finished feeding, it was time to leave.

"I know you are back, I do not go blind when I feed," he said loudly. "Impertinence! But I suppose it runs in the family," he chuckled. "The letters are fake but they could have been real, it matters not. Should I kill you now, I wonder?" He stood in the entrance to the alcove cutting off Lena's retreat. He was an Altmer.

"Greywyn had joined your Brotherhood but he now lies dead. I walked my own path, and gained immortality. This is how to be a vampire, girl." He looked at her and chuckled. "Someone from your Brotherhood sought me out, I was supposed to kill you in exchange for those two," he jerked his head towards the men slumped in the corner. "But you surprised me, Wolf child. I let you live this time, for family's sake." He stepped aside. "Go now and never come back, for I like my solitude."

He didn't need to ask her twice. Lena ran towards the exit. She threw another glance around the hall - the vampire was still standing near the alcove, a tall man in a richly embroidered robe, looking at her with interest. She noticed a bed in another corner, another alcove with books, a grate with embers... An Altmer in an Ayleid hall, he looked at home.

"Goodbye, Great Uncle," Lena said with a little bow and left the hall.

...

The sun was too bright and Lena quickly shut the outer door of the Ayleid ruin returning to the entrance hall. She'd have to wait for the night. She survived so far, she had to conserve her strength and make it to Lucien's fort. She felt this report could not wait, she'd have to sleep and feed later.

It took her most of the night to reach Fort Farragut. She was hoping to feed along the way, but the bandit resisted, there was a fight and she killed him before she could feed. His corpse was still warm but his heart wasn't beating. "And neither does mine," she told herself. "I must feed." She bit his neck but without the heartbeat, his blood wouldn't flow. She started massaging his heart, just enough for her to feed, yet the taste of his blood had changed. She drank some, then turned away with disgust. Namira would remind her of that night later.

She entered Lucien's fort just before dawn. She hadn't fed enough, she would have to remain there until the next nightfall, she hoped he wouldn't mind. Lucien wasn't there, she put the letters and scrolls on the table, quickly adding a note that she needed to talk and could not leave until dark, then she curled up in a ball and fell asleep in the corner, ready to face the Wrath of Sithis. What's another wraith? She'd faced so many... Was it worth it? She had no time to think, the battle went on and on.



~~~~~~~~~~~~

This post has been edited by Lena Wolf: May 20 2024, 03:57 PM

[Lena Wolf]

Midyear - Hearthfire, 3E437 - A friend in need

Lucien returned to Fort Farragut after several days on the road tracking movements of another Speaker. In the end he had to admit that it was getting him nowhere - the Speaker appeared to follow his usual schedule pretending to be a traveling merchant.

"Just because he's a nasty piece of work, he doesn't have to be a traitor," Lucien had to admit to himself. "Just look how he treats everyone... terrible. But I suppose it does keep questions to a minimum... no one wants to talk to him and clients aren't contacting us for the conversation. I don't see him joining Arquen either... he's too full of himself." He shook his head, crossed that Speaker off his mental list of suspects and returned to Cheydinhal.

Back at his fort he immediately noticed a pile of old letters and scrolls on the table - another report. He looked around - Lena was sleeping in the corner, tired and wounded, her face gaunt. "She'll need blood," he thought. A freshly written note lay on top of the other papers. "She'll stay till nightfall, good," he thought. That gave him some time.

...

"I need a special item," Lucien greeted Borba at her shop. "A bottle of your special beverage that you supply to our house. Is it possible to get one without a pre-order?" He smiled at her.

"Normally no," Borba said slowly, watching him. "The stuff doesn't keep, so we don't stock it..." She paused, then looked up. "However, if you need it, we can deliver. Wait here."

She went to the basement, Lucien heard some raised voices, some noise, a smack and a pop, then Borba returned with a bottle of dark viscous liquid, freshly corked.

"On the house," she said handing it to Lucien. "Sacrifices have to be made sometimes. Magra will be fine."

"Thank you," Lucien took the bottle but looked at Borba with surprise. "That's unexpected."

"A friend in need... you know what they say," she shrugged. "It was time we showed our colours. We can see what's going on, we keep an ear to the ground. You've got friends in this town, Speaker."

At that moment another customer opened the door to the shop, so Lucien smiled and nodded goodbye.

Back at the fort Lena was still asleep, her breathing calm, her body relaxed. "She's done with the wraith for now," Lucien thought, covering her with a blanket. "Perhaps I should get a bedroll..."

...

Lena woke up refreshed but hungry. She looked around - she was in a fort. "Where am I, I wonder?" Her dreams had been vivid, it was hard to remember where she went to sleep. She sat up. A blanket? She didn't remember blankets... Her body had no heat to conserve, she did not feel the cold. She rubbed her eyes and peered into the darkness.

She heard noises, someone was moving around... she smelled blood... she smelled... oh no! How could she forget where she went to sleep! She jumped up but her knees were weak, she was so hungry...

"Here, drink this," Lucien had heard her wake up. He was holding a bottle of blood. "Drink, then we'll talk."

...

"I apologise for coming here in this condition," Lena said in a small voice after she emptied the bottle. "I should have fed first. It won't happen again."

"You are forgiven," Lucien smiled. "I am glad you trusted me enough to come here... in this condition. You are wounded, you need rest. Come, let's eat, then tell me what happened."

The smell of roast made Lena realise that she hadn't eaten in days... Blood was not the only sustenance that she was lacking. She'd been neglecting herself, and it was having an effect. She gratefully accepted the food.

"This contract had been switched and it was a trap," Lena prodded the scroll. "It was clear enough, but I still had to follow up, or else the chain of dead drops would have been broken."

"Where did you get this?" Lucien was reading the contract.

"The well behind the chapel in Anvil."

"I never put anything there," Lucien looked up. "The chain has been diverted." He finished reading, then prepared to listen again. "Continue."

"I went to the ruin, covered it hall by hall, found all those old letters... Forgeries. I thought they were fake, yet still could not stop, could not just leave... The person who wrote them knew too much."

"Agreed," Lucien nodded. "They are important, in all their fake glory. Continue."

"There's an ancient vampire in that ruin... my great-great-uncle or something. He is real."

Lucien looked up.

"An Altmer?"

"How did you know?" Lena was taken aback.

"I didn't, but I knew you had distant family among the Altmer... I cannot tell you more, I am sorry," he smiled. "I am still a Speaker, exile or no exile..."

"You too?"

"Of course. But continue."

"Well, the Altmer first tried to kill me but I escaped..." Lena blushed at that. "Ran for my life... I was no match for him! But he didn't pursue me. I ran all the way to the entrance hall, and there I saw two idiots enter talking about collecting their reward for planting those letters," she smirked. "They were the reward, of course... So I followed. I had hoped that the vampire's senses would dull immediately after feeding, so I slipped into his hall a little after those two men. I found that newish scroll but haven't read it... The vampire heard me. He could have killed me right there but he didn't... for the family's sake, he said," she looked up, still surprised by it. "He knew all about me! But I still don't know his name. He said someone had contacted him to arrange this... someone from the Brotherhood... he was to kill me in exchange for those two men. But I don't think anyone can order him around, and he let me go."

"I had expected something like this," Lucien looked somber. "The ruin was filled with other vampires, right?"

"Vampires and undead," Lena nodded.

"You are getting too close, the traitor is now trying to get you killed."

"The Brotherhood is already trying to get me killed, is that not enough?"

"Evidently not, for you are still here," Lucien smiled. He paused, then spoke in a decisive tone. "There will be no further dead drops. You are meant to collect your reward in Anvil again... I'll go. Anvil seems to be the key..." He looked through the papers again, then looked up. "Do you have a place to stay? A house in town somewhere? It is safest in town..."

"I have a shack on the Waterfront and a small house in Bravil..."

"That is all?" Lucien smiled at her. "The Hero of Kvatch and Bruma is not rolling in gold and jewels? Forgive me, I know you detest those titles."

"The Blades can keep their fancy armour," Lena hissed through her teeth. "But the Oblivion Crisis is bigger than them."

"It is," Lucien nodded. "How far will you go?"

"Till the end," Lena sounded grave. "Mehrunes Dagon will move onto the Imperial City."

"He is a Daedric Prince."

"I know. But what else can we do? We either stop him or none of it will matter. The Emperor thought we could do it. We have to try." She looked at him with determination. "I have a feeling it won't be long."

"I have a feeling you will win, Wolf..." Lucien said softly. "You are indeed a child no longer..."

...

They talked through the night, having forgotten about the time, and when Lena declared she had to leave, she found the sun above the horizon. Again, she had to wait it out. They talked some more, going over the members of the Black Hand that Lena chose to spare - Lucien told her all about them. After that it was clear that only a few more members remained...

"That's assuming I know them all which I don't," he pointed out. "That's what makes it so hard... But as you say, we must try. I'll contact you... one way or the other. Until then, you have bigger fish to fry."

He insisted that she should sleep in his bed before going.

"This is the only bed in the entire fort and you are wounded," he overruled her protests. "You have a wraith to fight as well. How is it for you? Still getting stronger?"

"I don't think so," Lena shook her head. "It stopped growing stronger when I stopped expecting to die... It's still a bother, but I manage," she smiled.

"You are immortal, remember that," Lucien pointed out. "Should you die... do try to rise again."

"I... never thought of that... I'd rather not put it to the test, myself..." she smiled light-heartedly. It was good to talk to a friend.

...

After that day the events around the Oblivion Crisis seemed to be getting wilder and wilder, and Lena got completely embroiled in them, so much in fact that she forgot all about the assassins that the Brotherhood kept sending after her. One night she was camping in the Colovian Highlands having just fed on a lone bandit she found at the camp. Her senses dulled, she did not hear anyone coming...

The assassin leaped upon her aiming for the heart, but again her iron breastplate saved her. They rolled on the ground, Lena couldn't cast any spells. The assassin was skilled and fast, Lena was sluggish, having just fed, she wasn't used to not feel like a vampire... She grabbed him and bit his neck, he reeled, but the shock was enough for Lena to free herself from his grip and cast a vanishing spell. She backed off slowly making sure the assassin lost her. Then she attacked. Her sword did find his heart.

"Oof, that was a hard one," she was looking down on him. "There's something to say for heavy armour," she smiled, wiping blood off her breastplate. "But next time I might not be so lucky... I should learn to feed less... it dulls the senses... what a bother..."

She thought she had learned her lesson. Feed more often but take little each time, and people won't even suffer. That did require her to feed every other day, or else she wasn't fit for battle. It was a bother either way.

One day she got ambushed several times in a row. Another assassin, some bandits, an ogre and even goblins - everyone seemed to want a piece of the vampire. She was hungry, both for food and for blood, she just finished a trek through a large ruin in search of yet another artefact for the late Emperor's son... it was all getting too much. She was near Cheydinhal and had no where to go... "I am glad you trusted me enough to come here in this condition," Lucien's words sounded in her mind. It seemed he meant it... She went to his fort.

As Lena descended the rope ladder, she could smell him, he was there. He cloaked in chameleon but she knew where he stood. Her blood boiled, her hunger was overwhelming. She lost a lot of her own blood... if she could not feed, she would die. Yet the first thing she tried was to climb back up the ladder. Her strength failed her and she fell.

"You must leave now," she said in a hollow, hoarse voice. "Do not return for half a day at least... I shall be gone by then, one way or the other." She waited and listened, having crawled away from the ladder, but Lucien did not move. "I can smell you... you cannot hide... my eyes grow dim, I cannot hold it for much longer... leave now!"

Darkness descended upon her, her will squashed under the weight of her famine... She could not remember what happened next.

...

When Lena woke up, she realised that she was in Lucien's fort. Her wounds had been bandaged, she smelled aloe vera, lady's mantle, mugwort seeds, lavender, fruits and mushrooms... too many scents to make out the exact composition. She tried to remember what happened... ruins, undead, bandits, perhaps an assassin... she got to Lucien's fort somehow, she couldn't recall... He evidently bandaged her wounds...

She got up, her things were laid out on a bench but Lucien wasn't there. She left him a note, "Thank you for saving my life!", then she left for the Imperial City to crown the late Emperor's son.

[Renee]

Hours of reading or hours of writing?

Writing.

As for writing... it depends how it goes. I typically write "in circles", that is I'd write a rough draft, then keep editing it until it reads well. But I do other things in between, I don't just write in one sitting. It normally takes a day to write a chapter, but there've been aberrations, both shorter and longer!

Yeah, this is what I was after. I go thru several drafts as well, some at work and some at home (usually while gaming, the ones I write in my room), and some at my mom's place. But was wondering how many hours it usually takes you for each chapter, roughly.

In my older stories, way back in 2012 thru 2015, etc., those were usually an hour or two two or rarely three hours each, written literally while gaming, with an hour or two of editing afterwards. Nowadays (Laprima) those are all 10 hours or more. I've been actually keeping track of time though, just for curiosity, which it sounds like you don't do. Which is fine. You're getting lost in the passion of the story; time gets moved aside, I assume.

[Lena Wolf]

Yeah, this is what I was after. I go thru several drafts as well, some at work and some at home (usually while gaming, the ones I write in my room), and some at my mom's place. But was wondering how many hours it usually takes you for each chapter, roughly.

In my older stories, way back in 2012 thru 2015, etc., those were usually an hour or two two or rarely three hours each, written literally while gaming, with an hour or two of editing afterwards. Nowadays (Laprima) those are all 10 hours or more. I've been actually keeping track of time though, just for curiosity, which it sounds like you don't do. Which is fine. You're getting lost in the passion of the story; time gets moved aside, I assume.

I don't log hours. I typically write one chapter on any given day, regardless of how many hours it takes. I would guess anywhere between 4 and 12 hours. It just depends. It usually takes much longer to think through the story, and that may not be in chapters, or not in the sequence of chapters. That literally takes months and years. Many of the stories that I've been writing up recently, have been in fact turning in my head for ten years or more. But now they are taking concrete shape within the course of the story.

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E437 - Survival

When Lena lifted the trapdoor to Fort Farragut and started descending the rope ladder, Lucien was bandaging his wounds. There had been an attack, the Black Hand had sent an assassin, a Silencer perhaps, judging by the skill. Lucien won, but only just. He managed to stop the bleeding, but he needed to heal before he could do anything else. His fort had been safe so far, he could always open the gates and let the Dark Guardians enter, should the need ever arise... He would need to be watchful.

Hearing the trapdoor open made him jump. His first impulse was to cloak in chameleon and see who it was without being seen. Soft boots and leather trousers soaked in dark blood, iron breastplate... it was Lena, badly wounded as well. She looked pale like a sheet, grey even, gaunt, her eyes feverish, unseeing... She inhaled sharply and immediately started climbing up - she smelled him, of course - she was leaving. Alas, her strength failed her and she fell.

"You must leave now!" She said, her voice sounding distant and hoarse like he never heard it before. Her face and arms were covered in blood, both red and black, her neck had several cuts with dark liquid oozing out... "Leave now! I cannot hold it for much longer..." She crawled away from the ladder to give him space, leaving a trail of blood on the floor. "Stay away for half a day at least, I shall be gone by then one way or the other..."

No, he could not allow that. He hoped he had enough blood to survive, he lay down on the bed and waited.

He watched her eyes glaze over, with every human expression gone. She pulled herself up, she could not stand. She could not see either, he thought, she bumped into things that were in the way, but her senses led her directly to him. He felt a sharp pain in his neck... "They say it only hurts the first time," he thought. "It hurts less than a dagger... and I should know." He closed his eyes and hoped he had enough blood to survive.

...

It only took a few minutes and Lena released her grip, falling to the floor. Lucien rubbed his neck, he only felt slightly light-headed. He got up and went about removing blood-soaked armour from Lena's unconscious body.

She had a lot of cuts and she was cold. He wasn't sure whether an ice bath would do any good for a vampire and decided against it. Instead, he cleaned her wounds and prepared a healing dressing, adding a touch of lavender and motherwort, to sleep and remember nothing. He moved her to his bed and cleaned up the floor. His own wounds caught up with him by then and he too fell asleep on a rug by the fire.

...

Lucien's sleep was light. He heard movement in the room, he looked up and saw Lena thrash in her sleep. "The wraith," he thought, it had to be. He could not help her fight the wraith, but he sat next to her anyway, checking her dressings. Most wounds seemed to have closed, he replaced a few bandages, and soon Lena calmed down, the wraith defeated. It must have been hard, for her face looked grey.

"Well then, they say it only hurts the first time," he said softly. "Shall we put it to the test? I think you need more blood." He moved her gently and lay on the bed next to her, his neck exposed. A minute later he felt her fangs pierce his neck. "I felt it, but pain it was not," he reflected, closing his eyes. This time he was certain he had enough blood to survive.

This feeding left Lucien weakened and sleepy, yet he still wasn't worried - he'd experienced loss of blood before and knew that he was in no danger of dying. He wanted to get up and go back to the rug by the fire, but found himself too weak for that, with his wounds taking a toll as well. Lavender in Lena's dressings made him sleepy, and he gave in to that, staying next to her.

He awoke several hours later realising that Lena was no longer cold as ice. She was still cold, but the air no longer froze around her. He checked her dressings, replacing a few, she was doing better. He checked his own dressings and replaced some as well. He still needed rest. He looked at the rug by the fire, shook his head and went back to bed, pulling a blanket over both of them. Lena slept without movement. "They say vampires don't twitch in their sleep," he looked into her face. "Perhaps. Except when they have to fight the Wrath of Sithis," he smirked, settling down. "Sleep well, Wolf." He put his hand on her shoulder and felt a heartbeat.

When Lucien awoke again, he found all his wounds closed and all Lena's wounds healing nicely. She was still asleep, and he didn't expect her to wake up considering how much lavender he put into her dressings. "She will sleep for half a day at least," he thought. "And I should soon be going." He did not want to be there when she woke up, he'd rather she didn't remember what happened. He looked into her face - she was still pale... too pale, perhaps. He laid out her armour, it was damaged but not too bad, it was mostly just covered in dried blood, nothing more. A large ruby amulet dropped out of a hidden pocket. "Oh wow - that's... I see." He looked at her again and knew that she needed more blood if she were to survive what came next. "Come on then, let's hope your instincts kick in..." He lay on the bed again and placed her head on his neck. She breathed in sharply and bit it without waking up.

This time Lucien couldn't get up. He still felt he was not in danger but he certainly could not leave. He was feeling the chill of the loss of blood, so he pulled a blanket over himself and Lena in order to keep warm. She was warm, he noticed. Her heart was beating. "And they say vampires' hearts don't beat," he thought. "Hers didn't beat at first, but look at her now... I wonder..." He hugged her and fell asleep.

When Lucien woke up next, Lena was twitching in her sleep. "She'll wake up soon," he thought. He got up and started getting ready to leave. He took a few steps and felt dizzy, his wounds were hurting too much and he felt weak. "I am not going anywhere today," he shook his head. "There's only one thing for it - watch and wait." He sat in the darkest corner of the room waiting for Lena to wake up.

He didn't have to wait long. Soon she sat up looking around, trying to remember what had occurred. She could not smell him, there were so many other scents in the room. Lucien sat cloaked waiting for her to leave. No, she didn't remember a thing. She got dressed, left him a note, tucked the Amulet of Kings into a hidden pocket and left for the Imperial City to crown the late Emperor's son.

"Good luck to you, Wolf," Lucien said when she was gone. "Hope to see you again." He got into bed and fell asleep as both his wounds and his blood needed to heal and recover.

[Lena Wolf]

Hearthfire, 3E437 - The end of an era

Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City. He entered Mundus - they were too late to crown the last Septim as the Emperor and the Dragonfires weren't lit. But Lena felt it was no reason to give up, and Baurus agreed - Baurus, the one Blade who didn't resent Lena her vampirism.

"The Emperor trusted you, he saw something in you," he shrugged when Lena asked why he kept treating her nicely. "The Septims see more than us ordinary folks. I trust the Emperor's judgement." It did imply that all the other Blades did not.

On the day when Mehrunes Dagon was marching onto the Imperial City, Baurus found Lena in the turmoil of battle.

"We cannot close all these Oblivion gates!" He took her aside. "There are too many. I think Mehrunes Dagon himself is coming."

"I agree," Lena nodded. "That idiot with the amulet wanted an official blessing of the Elder Council before putting it on... so instead of lighting the Dragonfires while he still had the chance, he had me escort him to the Elder Council... Can you imagine?! Does the man ever think about anyone but himself?!"

"Well, he is a Septim, so keep your voice down," Baurus looked around. "Septims are known for their stubbornness. We'll just have to deal with it."

"Do you have a plan?" Lena looked at the hordes of daedra pouring into the streets from the many Oblivion gates. They seemed to be going towards the Temple of the One, not bothering with pursuing mortals who ran for cover.

"The population was warned over and over to hide in their houses or in the sewers in case of an invasion," Baurus was watching the streets too. "It seems to be working. So we can focus on Dagon."

"Speaking of which... Here he comes!"

A giant stepped out of an Oblivion gate, his axe aimed at the Temple.

"He wants to destroy the Temple!" Baurus cried, knocking an arrow. "I don't know if this will work... but we should try!"

The battle was epic indeed, Dagon seemed invulnerable. Yet whenever someone hit him hard, he staggered, unable to attack.

"We should pull him over!" Baurus shouted. "He will fall and we'll have a chance of going for his head!"

"You must get me to the Temple!" Martin suddenly stood next to them. "I have a plan!"

"What plan?" Lena squinted at him. "It's too late for the Dragonfires."

"You'll see," Martin scowled. "I don't have to explain anything to you. I am the Emperor."

"Almost but not quite," Lena turned away, knocking a poisoned arrow for Dagon. "Can't you see - we are busy."

"You'll have to take him to the Temple," Baurus said to Lena, his voice practically covered by the noise of the battle. "He'll do something stupid, no doubt, but getting him killed will be worse. We'll pick up the pieces afterwards, as always."

Lena rolled her eyes and turned to Martin.

"Follow me, Your Majesty," she said dryly. "Don't fight along the way and keep close. Why are you not wearing armour again?" She didn't wait for a reply and pulled him into an alley.

"Why are we skulking about?" He protested. "The Temple is that way, we should take the shortest route!"

"We are taking the shortest route," Lena retorted. "The one with the fewest daedra along the way. I am here to keep you alive but I am no necromancer! So try not to die prematurely!"

The way with fewest daedra was still challenging enough, but eventually they made it to the Temple with Martin still alive. He ran to the altar just as Dagon smashed through the roof...

"An immortal can only be killed by another immortal!" Martin shouted and Lena realised it was his explanation. "I summon Akatosh!"

And then he did it - he broke the Amulet of Kings. A huge shock wave went through the Imperial Isle, rolling on to the furthest corners of Tamriel, Lena was certain.

"What are you doing?!" She shouted. "We do not need another Dragon Break!!!"

But it was too late, Martin stood by the altar, heavenly light streaming through him. A moment later he turned into a flaming dragon and attacked Mehrunes Dagon.

"Bloody Dragonborn!" Was all that Lena could say. The dragon was of course effective against the giant Dagon, but she could not stop thinking that Martin had lost his nerve and did the one thing an Emperor must never do - break the Amulet of Kings.

"Oh... that is worse than I thought," Baurus ran in and stopped, watching the dragon topple Dagon, with both of them turning to stone. The Oblivion gates collapsed and the city guard finished off the remaining daedra. The war was over.

"What are we supposed to do now?" People were coming to see the statue of the dragon. "We have no Emperor, no Dragonfires and no Amulet of Kings to protect us! What will prevent the daedra from invading Mundus again?"

"I just don't think about it," others would shudder. "The Elder Council will handle it sooner or later..."

...

"I suppose it isn't as bad as that," Baurus ordered another mug of ale at the All Saints tavern in the Imperial City. "The era of the Septims has finished, and with that Akatosh himself put a new seal around Mundus to protect us from future invasions."

"If you believe such a thing," Lena smirked, drinking deeply from her own mug of ale.

"Nah, of course not, Assassin," Baurus grinned. "But at least we survived."

"Assassin," Lena smiled. "That's what you said when we met back there under the Imperial Prison..."

"Seems it was a lifetime ago..." Baurus nodded. "But I was right, wasn't I? You had it in you right from the start."

"You are not supposed to know it, really..." Lena looked at him sideways. "You know how it is..."

"I know exactly how it is," he nodded. "I also know what is going on... If you need any help, I am often here... Just don't tell Jeoffre, he's... well... just don't."

"I don't need to talk to him ever again!" Lena scoffed.

"I don't blame you," he smiled.

...

The Oblivion gates seemed to have all but vanished. Stray daedra were still seen in the countryside here and there, but overall peace was restored and life went back to normal. Lena was still facing the Wrath of Sithis every time she slept, and assassins were still ambushing her on a regular basis, but overall her life felt like a breeze compared to the last year or so.

Lucien's life however was only getting harder. The Black Hand sent another Silencer after him, and that time he came off barely alive. Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut and he literally fell through the trapdoor, not able to control his movements. Yet he recovered and resumed his search for the traitor. Anvil was the key.

"You need to trust your apprentice," his mother told him when he came to visit her at the chapel - she was a Priestess of Dibella.

"My apprentice?" He looked up at her in surprise.

"The young Wolf," she smiled. "A bit too young for you just now, but time tends to correct such things..."

"What..?" He was taken aback. "No! She is..."

"She touched your heart," Irene Lachance looked at him seeing a young Novice of Dibella. "I know you, my son."

Lucien shook his head and looked away.

"She is remarkable, true," he admitted. "But she is my Sister... my apprentice... all right, I'll accept that," he nodded. "And right now she and I are both being hunted by our own Brotherhood, and so far it's been only getting worse..."

"Your father tried to spare you such a fate, that is why we left Morrowind and he's been staying away," she said wistfully. "Don't think for a moment that I don't miss him... I won't live to see him return, I don't think..." She looked away, brushing off a tear. "But you... your life should be long, like his. Take care not to die too early."

"Mum, don't talk like that." Lucien took her hand. "I have no intention of dying. And neither should you."

"Not yet, no," she smiled at him. "Just promise me not to rush into marriage again, wait for the right woman."

"That I can promise," he replied, taken aback. "Marriage is really the last thing on my mind right now... Sometimes you surprise me, mum..." He gave her a long look trying to figure out what brought that on, but she only smiled and didn't explain any further.

...

"Trust my apprentice..." Lucien heard his mother's words in his mind again. "Well, I suppose we could call her that. And here is something for her to do..." He noticed a dock hand put a scroll into the barrel mentioned in Lena's last contract as the next dead drop. "What's that lad got to do with Dark Brotherhood contracts? Perhaps I should have a word."

He followed the dock hand to the nearest tavern and watched him order a large mug of ale.

"Mind if I join you?" He sat next to him at the bar. "Didn't realise you were a fisherman."

"Fisherman?" The dock hand looked at Lucien with incomprehension. "What are you on about, man? I ain't no fisherman..."

"No? I saw you put some fish into a barrel just a few minutes ago," Lucien smiled. "What's the catch today? Haddock or cod?"

"I... What???" The lad rubbed his eyes but the ale was already making him see double. "What's it to you?"

"I like fish, is all," Lucien shrugged. "It's alright, I'll go and have a look for myself, if you won't tell me."

"I got no clue what it is, honest!" The lad finally realised that the man in a black robe sitting next to him was not a mage from the local guild. "I can't even read well enough! Talk to the lighthouse master, it was all his idea!"

"You think he's got fish?" Lucien smiled. "Well, you might be right, you know..."

"The basement..." The lad stuttered. "The lighthouse has a basement..."

That was as much as Lucien managed to get out of him, so he left him to his ale. He walked over to the barrel outside but found it empty. "Not good," he thought. "They saw me..." His mother's words sounded in his head: "Try not to die too early..." Quite. He should leave Anvil, and quickly.

"Take this to the Champion of Cyrodiil," he picked a card with a view of the Anvil lighthouse from a range at the Black Horse Courier office. "Got to join in the congratulations, right?" He joked with the clerk. "It isn't every day that we get saved from a daedric invasion!" He wrote with a florish "Congratulations to Our Saviour!", signed "LL", paid his fee and saw the clerk toss the card into a large sack marked "Imperial City".

"She's due there for the ceremony of awarding her the Order of the Dragon," the clerk explained. "Fear not, The Black Horse Courier never loses anyone's mail!"

...

Shadowmere was a remarkable horse. Not undead as some thought, she was in fact one of the black horses from the Cheydinhal stables. But nature had given her eyes with a red glow and made her faster and quieter than most horses, and so legends arouse around her which Lucien found amusing and never tried to deny. Shadowmere could outrun almost anything, moving swiftly and silently through the woods, always returning to Fort Farragut without the need to be directed by her rider.

It was that ability of his horse that was saving Lucien's life again and again, as the attacks by the Black Hand were getting more and more frequent. "Just how many Silencers do they actually have?" He wondered trying to outrun three assassins chasing him across the Imperial Reserve. "Let's try a diversion." He directed Shadowmere towards a group of ogres making camp by a cottage in the woods. "That's odd..." He looked back at them. "But convenient!" The ogres were too slow to catch Shadowmere but fast enough to block the way of the three riders in pursuit. He escaped this time...

He didn't always have ogres coming to his rescue however. More often than not Shadowmere brought him to Fort Farragut barely able to stay in the saddle, and sometimes even lying across it. On one such night he could barely see the trapdoor, he opened it with the last of his strength and dropped through it. He saw movement in the room, but couldn't get up or resist. "That's it, I die too early..." he thought. "Forgive me, mum..." Perhaps the new era was not meant for him.

[Lena Wolf]

Frostfall, 3E437 - Cards

Lena kept receiving ridiculous amounts of mail. Everyone seemed to want to congratulate the new Champion of Cyrodiil, or to meet her, or to get acquainted, or solicit her patronage of their shop, or, or, or. She instructed the Black Horse Courier to keep back the mail in their office and not try to deliver it to her in person, unless the package was sent by a premium service. She knew that the Blades and the Mages Guild would use it, and she didn't expect anything else of importance. The Blades never contacted her again, the Mages Guild did call her for one or the other assignment, but otherwise she seemed to have been left alone. In particular, there was no word from Lucien, and after a while she started to worry.

It is for this reason that she didn't get Lucien's card until a while later, when she finally took the time to go through all the fan mail accumulating at the Black Horse Courier. She was to investigate Anvil then, in particular the lighthouse.

"But why use such an uncertain and insecure method of communication?" She wondered, turning over the card and kicking herself for not checking the fan mail earlier. "He must be in trouble. I should see to him first." She didn't know how exactly she could "see to him" as he was still her Speaker and it was not her place to "see to him" in any way... and yet she felt that the circumstances justified a breach in protocol. She went to Fort Farragut without delay.

As soon as she descended the rope ladder, she knew that something was wrong. The room that Lucien normally kept very tidy, was in disarray, with clothes, weapons and potions out of place and the alchemical lab a mess. Some of the clothes seemed to have been ripped into strips, too. "He's being hunted," she realised. "He's on the run... What do I do..?" With all the mess around, it still looked like Lucien kept coming back to the fort, and when Lena found no evidence of it being compromised, she decided to simply tidy up and refill his supplies, brew some potions, restock the cupboards... She couldn't think of anything else to do. Between Borba's shop and the Mages Guild, she got all she needed, returning to the fort for an extended session of alchemy.

She was barely in when she heard the trapdoor open - Lucien was returning home. She stood up, ready to apologise and explain her presence when she saw him fall, not able to stand. He seemed to have noticed her though, turned towards her, tried to get up... but he could not. "This is bad..!" Lena rushed to his aid, but he had already blacked out. Things were much worse than she had thought.

When she removed his blood-soaked clothes, she realised that many of the wounds weren't fresh. The hunt had been relentless, and he had not been taking enough time to allow the wounds to heal before going out again. Lena blushed to the roots of her hair thinking of how she wasted precious weeks simply because she could not be bothered to check her mail often enough. "He could have been killed in the meantime," she swore at herself. "How could I be so careless..?" But lamenting it wasn't going to help, and so she took a deep breath, steadied her hand and proceeded cutting out necrotic tissue from some of the festering wounds on Lucien's body. She knew it would hurt, but she didn't think he would notice, considering the amount of pain he must have been in already. Finally, she bandaged him up and moved him to the bed, making sure to add lavender to the dressings to prevent him waking up too early. "Let's just hope he won't be fighting the wraith as well this time," she watched him, but his breathing was calm.

...

Lena decided not to leave Fort Farragut until Lucien woke up and she had a chance to change his dressings. She busied herself brewing more potions and set up a stew, only leaving briefly to fetch coal and firewood from a disused passage by the city wall. And there she saw it - three assassins were clearing vermin, they were a distance away and hadn't seen her yet. "They are going to have a run at the Sanctuary," she thought. "I've got to stop them." What was she thinking, exactly? There were three of them and one of her, and unlike them, she wasn't even properly armed or armoured... But she didn't think of that. She was a vampire and a mage, and she was going to press home her advantage.

Standing behind a column and out of sight, she summoned a wraith and shot a frost ball at one of the assassins. He spun around, gasped and leaped towards the wraith. The others weren't surprised - dark disused passages often housed undead, and in fact they were battling some zombies already. Lena's wraith backed off, leading the assassin past the column where she was standing. It was too easy - she slit his throat from behind.

Noticing their comrade fall, the other two assassins became more careful. "There's someone here," one said to the other. "That wraith had been summoned." They quickly finished the zombies and turned around, walking slowly towards Lena.

"Careful now, one at a time," she told herself, allowing them to come close. When they were nearly upon her, she summoned a clannfear, cast invisibility and ran towards the other end of the corridor. The clannfear shrieked, jumped and rammed one of the assassins, but the other assassin shook his head and ran towards Lena instead. He could not see her, she was sure of it, but the corridor only had two ends, and he simply deduced her maneuver. She stepped further back and felt her shoulder ripped by a zombie...

"She's here!" The assassin cried, seeing Lena's invisibility cloak dispel. "Forget the clannfear! The mage is here!"

Although the second assassin could not very well forget the clannfear, he stopped trying to kill it and focused on evading it instead, hoping it would be dispelled soon enough. They had both seen Lena now, as she was forced to fight the zombie.

"Not good," she quickly looked around, twisting away from the zombie that tried to grab her. "What was I thinking?!" Casting invisibility again, she jumped towards one of the assassins, not trying to attack him but instead trying to shake off the zombie. It worked - the zombie switched its focus engaging the assassin. "What now?" Lena wondered. "Another wraith? Or perhaps something more exotic?" She grinned, ran back to the front of the corridor and summoned a lich.

The lich appeared behind the column hiding it from view of the assassins, one of which was fighting the zombie and the other was trying to locate Lena. He thought he had seen a spell being cast and moved towards her, but the lich had already summoned a skeleton that ran towards the assassin.

"A skellie?" He grinned. "Why, that is too easy!" Perhaps he had been expecting a novice skeleton cast by beginners, but this was a skeleton guardian, with a much better sword and a power to knock out through force of impact alone... The assassin reeled, his armour colouring red. "What the..?" He was surprised, but quickly collected himself, ready for a counter-offensive.

"Forget the skellie, go for the mage!" The other assassin shouted, seeing what had occurred. He was still battling the zombie and could not help.

"The mage, right," the assassin redressed himself, now trying to avoid the skeleton's attacks and looking for the mage instead. He ran past the column and faced the lich. "Is that... Is she a necromancer?" He was taken aback for a moment, then pulled out his silver sword and struck the lich.

"Arrhhhh..." The lich let out a hollow sigh but recovered and shot a spell from its staff in response. The assassin staggered and dropped to his knees, his strength suddenly failing him.

"The lich is a summon!!" The first assassin bellowed, having finally killed the zombie. He ran towards his friend, helping him up. "The mage must be here somewhere! We must find her!"

The lich shot another bolt of pain from its staff and vanished. Lena had no more magicka for an advanced summon, she had to keep some in reserve for invisibility... She lunged at one of the assassins, breaking her cover. The fight was brief but her tactic gave her an edge and she landed a few hits before jumping back to avoid getting wounded herself. The assassin wasn't dead, but after his fight with the zombie the extra wounds made him weak. Still, it was two against one.

"No where to run now, mage!" The assassin got up and the two of them started walking towards Lena, their swords extended, blocking the corridor and backing her into a wall. "No more summons? Why, getting tired, eh?" They taunted her.

Indeed, summons were out. She was wounded and the fight with the zombie before that stunted her magicka flow. Zombies were cursed. No more summons... but perhaps...

Searing pain and overwhelming weakness hit one of the assassins, his blood seemed to boil. "What was that?" He wondered, watching the other assassin land a blow on Lena, yet she did not seem to be hurt. Red mist engulfed him as he fell to the ground, he saw Lena circle around him, absorbing the mist, resisting the blows from the other assassin, even lunging herself with a cut or two of her own. Yet she seemed to be growing weaker too, despite all her efforts the two of them would still prevail somehow, he was certain.

Gathering all her strength, Lena leapt at the one assassins still wielding a sword. He was prepared to block, but there was nothing to block, for Lena was not wielding a sword herself. Instead, she grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist, pushing him against the wall, then buried her fangs in his neck. She was hungry, she drank in big gulps, and soon the assassin fell to the ground.

She let go of him and got up. Both assassins were still alive but unable to move or fight. Their wounds were severe, they were no threat to the Sanctuary any longer. The first one propped himself on an elbow, looking at her in the dim light of the passage.

"You are Wolf, are you not?" He said with an effort. "There's a contract on you as well."

"I know," Lena nodded. "Brother." She paused, looking at them both. "I won't kill you two, you might still survive. We've lost too many Brothers to this madness already." She turned to leave, then changed her mind. "You've seen what a vampire can do," she spoke again. "Think well before visiting the chapel to cure that souvenir I gave you to remind you of this encounter... You've got three days to make up your mind." Then she finally walked away. "Thank you, Great Uncle, that was most effective," she said under her breath, climbing back out into the daylight with firewood under her arm.

Back in the fort Lucien was still sleeping. Lena added logs to the fire, stirred the stew and resumed brewing potions. Her feeding in the passage came in handy, although it did dull her senses somewhat. She was engrossed in her alchemy and didn't hear Lucien wake up.

...

"I seem to be still alive," it was the first thing that Lucien thought when he woke up in his bed in Fort Farragut. His whole body was hurting, he was sure he hadn't sustained quite so many wounds... But wait... someone was waiting for him there, was there another struggle? Then why was he not dead?

He tried to sit up, but it was too painful, making him grunt. He tried to pull himself up instead, he had to see what was going on...

"Be careful, or your wounds will reopen again," he heard Lena's voice as she approached. She helped him sit up, propping some pillows behind his back. "You need to be watchful, Speaker," she smiled. "Someone could have been waiting for you in your fort."

"And someone was," he smiled at her. "Thank you."

"No," Lena shook her head. "You cannot continue like this if you are to survive. You need to make sure your wounds heal before getting new ones."

"Who am I to argue with the Champion of Cyrodiil," Lucien grinned. "Did you get my card?"

"I did," Lena nodded and blushed. "Just a few days ago... I was ignoring my fan mail."

"I should have known," Lucien laughed, cringing at the pain. "It isn't that urgent. Anvil is the key."

"The lighthouse."

"You understood it then."

"I shall go when you can stand up," Lena nodded. "There's been another attempt to Purify the Sanctuary today."

"It won't stop until we find the traitor."

He fell silent, and Lena got up to bring him some stew, then insisted that he should rest, that she would be fine on the floor. "Vampires don't feel the cold," she shrugged. "Our hearts don't beat." She adjusted his pillows and added some logs to the fire, then returned to the alchemy station to prepare more dressings and remedies.

"You don't fool me," Lucien thought, falling asleep. "My apprentice..."

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - Time to die

Lucien's trip to Anvil some weeks previously appeared to have spurred on both the traitor and the Black Hand - attacks on Lena and Lucien became more frequent still, and the Sanctuary was being invaded again and again. The hunt was relentless. Lucien ventured another visit to the Sanctuary, this time during the day, hoping to see his assassins, whoever was still alive, and may be boost their morale a little, since there wasn't much else he could do. He went through the Black Door in the abandoned house, avoiding the well and hoping that it would have been sealed anyway. It was.

"Who goes there?" Gogron greeted him, his axe raised - he was on watch. "You won't get past me!"

"Hello, Gogron," Lucien said, trying to sound cheerful, or at least calm, and failing on both accounts.

"Speaker!" Gogron stopped, strained to look at Lucien, and only lowered his axe after some time. His face was swollen and he wore a bandage over the eyes. "Forgive me, I cannot see very well," he said, grinning. "Got a cut over my face... But no matter! I can hear the vermin... No one will get past my axe!"

"I have no doubt, Gogron," Lucien patted his arm. "How are things?"

"Dire," Gogron was serious now. "Everyone's wounded, one way or the other... Not one of us is at full strength. But we are all still alive! I can hardly believe it myself. Ocheeva's strategy proves most effective..."

"That is good... You need to stand strong... We are getting close to finding the traitor, which means things will get much worse from now on."

"The final stretch then," Gogron nodded, his face set in resolve. "If I fall... It's been an honour, Speaker."

Lucien went to the dormitory wing and found several assassins in bed, bandaged up. Some could not stand, but, like Gogron said, everyone was still alive.

"Borba has been our life line," Telaendril told him. "She's been leaving supplies in the abandoned house... even after we ran out of funds."

"Borba surprised me," Lucien nodded. "Said it was time to show her colours... You must look out for each other and try to stay strong."

"We do that, Speaker," Telaendril said softly. "It's good to see you... to know that you're still alive."

"The worst is still ahead," he squeezed her hand. "Remember how you tried to kill me when I came to you with my offer?" He smiled. "You were good... very good. Better than our assassins that were sent after you... what? three, four times? And you improved since. There is no better archer in the whole of Tamriel, Telaendril."

She smiled and blushed, and Lucien thought that perhaps he should have been praising his assassins a little more often - they did look up to him, after all. He went around the room and spoke to each of them, saying something personal every time.

"You are our mage," he said to M'raaj-Dar. "Perhaps not a healer, but I know you have some vicious spells," he grinned. "Do not hold them back."

"Oh, I don't, Speaker," M'raaj-Dar grinned back. "And if all else fails, Khajiit will tear them into shreds with his claws. Khajiit never gives up... not even in death - this one's ghost will come and help, should the body fall..."

Ocheeva was in the hall when Lucien came out of the dormitory.

"You took a risk coming here, Speaker," she looked sternly at him, then smiled. "But we are glad to see you. We are all still alive, somehow... Gogron tells me the worst is coming next." She became serious and nodded. "You are getting close to catching the traitor, this is good. Try not to die now... The Sanctuary will fall with your death."

"Stay strong, Ocheeva," Lucien touched her shoulder. "Remember our training... Everyone can be replaced. Should I fall, you will be the Speaker."

"I'd rather not," she sighed. "But I'll do what I can for as long as I live... however short it may be."

They stood in silence for a little while, Gogron watched them from the other end of the hall, his hearing was superb. He nodded to himself and straightened his back. No one would get past his axe while he was still standing.

Vicente was in his room. Lucien noticed how gaunt his face was, pale with a shade of grey - he was famished.

"I stay here to reduce the risk for everyone else," he said. "I have not been feeding... not because Borba stopped delivering blood," he waved his hand at a row of bottles, "but because of the powers that come with the hunger. I prefer to feed on the enemy," he smirked, but his eyes were sad. "On our Brothers... I hope this madness will end."

"We are close, Vicente," Lucien nodded. "Do what you have to. Survival is key."

Lucien stayed a bit longer, telling Ocheeva and Vicente what he discovered in Anvil, and that Lena would go there next.

"When she finds the traitor, she must bring her report to the Listener," Ocheeva pointed out. "You cannot be the one to deliver it since you are a suspect yourself. The Listener will verify her findings, I am certain he won't just dismiss them... It will cause a delay but it has to be done. During that time the Black Hand will move against you."

"How do you know this, Ocheeva?" Lucien was taken aback, but there was no suspicion in his voice.

"Deduction," she shrugged. "I am not the traitor."

"Ocheeva is right, that will be the most dangerous time," Vicente nodded. "Everything points to it."

Lucien nodded, looking somber. "We'll do our best." He got up to leave. "This may be the last time we meet... if so, tell everyone - the honour has always been mine."

...

Lena's investigation of the Anvil lighthouse did not yield any clues to start with. She tried asking around, but being a vampire didn't help and people simply refused to talk to her. The mages at the Guild weren't turning her away as such, but Carahil was visibly boiling with rage every time Lena entered the building - she was strictly opposed to any form of undead, vampires included. As a result, Lena tried to stay away and had no where to sleep. She would usually curl up behind the chapel, trying to stay out of sight. She had to feed often to keep her vampirism down, and she felt guilty for using beggars when she could not find smugglers or bandits... But finding the traitor was more important to her, and she had to keep fit to do it.

One night she found a bedroll behind the chapel where she used to sleep, there was a note inside: "With Dibella's blessings". Lena looked around, she thought she saw a priestess' robe behind the trees. "Thank you!" she said, but didn't try to follow.

After a week or so in Anvil, Lena started noticing someone shadowing her. She felt she had to shake them off, or better yet kill them, and she could not do it in town, so she mounted her horse and rode leisurely East. When she was between Kvatch and Skingrad, she was attacked. They started by killing her horse while she was on it - the horse collapsed, trapping Lena's leg under its weight. The blows came thick and fast, but Lena was still stuck, trying to free her leg... her iron breastplate protected her heart but it would not save her life in itself... "Should you die, do try to rise again," she suddenly recalled Lucien's words, said in a jest, no doubt - the idea was not to die.

"You cannot kill me - I am a vampire!" She shouted, finally pulling her leg from under the horse's body. She jumped up, a dagger in each hand. She could not block or cast any spells that way, but that was not her intention. She spun in place, her daggers extended, slicing her attackers who did not expect such a move. She was bleeding herself, but it only fueled her rage. "I smell your blood, I smell your fear!" She screamed, twirling between them again. Two attackers in dark leather armour, the Brotherhood armour... They froze for a moment, but quickly recovered from their surprise, closing in on her from the opposite sides, silver swords in their hands, silver swords with a fire enchantment.

"We came prepared, vampire!" One of them cried. "Take that, foul beast!"

Their swords really hurt. Lena dropped one of the daggers freeing a hand to cast spells - vanish and try to escape, she no longer had any hope of winning. She vanished, but her boots were filled with blood and were leaving bloody footprints on the ground...

"Not every vampire can rise..." Lena thought. "Not if killed with a silver weapon... Forgive me, Speaker, I failed..."

She ran but her attackers pursued her, she heard their footsteps catching up... then there was a sudden cry and a thump - a fall, she figured. Perhaps he tripped on a root or something. She spun around and lunged at the other attacker, may be she still stood a chance... But his sword was quick and he parried, giving her a cut on a thigh. She stifled a scream, trying to ignore it, jumped back, readying a spell... she was not dead yet... But the assassin was skilled, he lunged at her with all his weight, knocking her to the ground, his sword poised at her neck. "Time to die..." she thought, expecting the final blow.

...

Instead of the burn of a silver blade cutting her throat, she felt the warmth of a hand checking her pulse.

"Vampires have no pulse, I forgot," Lucien shook his head, wondering how to determine whether Lena was still alive. He had been on his way to Anvil, not having heard from her in two weeks after she left, so he thought she might have needed a hand. He saw the attack from far, and wasn't sure what he was seeing - if those were bandits attacking a traveler, he was not going to intervene. "The Imperial Legion is supposed to be patrolling the roads, not spend their time sipping ale at roadside inns," he scoffed. "I've got enough of my own troubles." But when he approached, he realised that those were no bandits... He shot them from a distance, they were probably still alive, but they moved no more, and his priority was Lena, not some unfortunate Brothers who got the curse of this contract.

He pulled her free from the assassin and removed her breastplate thinking to massage her heart.

"Err... Does that even make sense?" He stopped. "I don't know a thing about first aid for vampires...." He looked at her wounds and noticed that some of the cuts were still oozing blood. "Still bleeding... Does it mean she is alive? Let's hope so... Well then, bandage the cuts, I suppose..."

...

Lena felt someone touching her neck searching for a pulse. "Vampires have no pulse," she thought, "but I am not dead." However, her wounds were severe, she could not even open her eyes. The person pulled her from under her attacker, removed her breastplate, placed his hands on her heart and gave it a push... then stopped, realising that it was futile. He bent over her, checking her wounds... His scent was bitter and sweet at once... Lena's heart gave a jolt.

...

Lucien didn't know what to do but decided to bandage Lena's wounds and give her some time to recover, hoping that she wasn't dead. He ripped up his shirt into strips and used up every last drop of a healing solution he had in his pack. "I need to be better prepared," he thought. At least, a shirt was not imperative to wear under a robe. "I could not have ripped up my robe for strips," he reflected.

Eventually Lena opened her eyes. Lucien was sitting by the fire, trying to brew a simple potion with aloe vera and some other herb... it wasn't a lab, but it would do.

"Thank you for saving me... again... Speaker," Lena managed to say in a small voice, she was still very weak.

"You live still!" He bent over her. "I could not tell... but I hoped..."

"You can never be sure with us," Lena smiled. "Not dead, not alive..."

"Shush now, drink this," he brought a cup of aloe vera tea to her lips. "It's not a potion but I hope it will help."

Lena drank and the warmth of the liquid spread through her body. She closed her eyes and slept.

...

When Lena woke up a few hours later, the night had fallen. She smelled roast - Lucien had killed a boar. He evidently prepared to camp there for a while, having refilled his skeins with water too.

"You look pale," he said, having examined Lena's wounds. "I think one of the Brothers is still alive... perhaps he's got enough blood to sustain you."

"I don't want to feed on our Brothers," Lena objected. "They got that contract..."

"You don't have a choice," Lucien looked her in the eye. "The boar will not be enough. It will dawn soon."

He was right, of course. Lena got up with difficulty and walked over to her attackers, both lying a short distance away. One was already dead, the other still lived. He looked at her as she approached, but did not resist when she turned him over, exposing his neck. "Forgive me, Brother," she said, sinking her fangs into it.

She took it all, massaging his heart after it stopped. He died in her hands, his life feeding her existence. But she had no choice, besides he would have died anyway, most likely.

She returned to the campfire, now able to sit unaided. Lucien was slicing up the boar on the spit, carving its flesh where it was ready for eating. He used lotus leaves as plates, and Lena smiled at that.

"Thank you, Speaker," she said. "Thank you for coming to my aid again."

"Call me Lucien," he looked up. "Please, these are no ordinary times... And stop thanking me." He looked away and Lena thought that he wanted to add something but changed his mind. "Tell me about Anvil."

Lena told what she had discovered, which wasn't much.

"I could not get into the basement of the lighthouse," she said. "Not yet, anyway. The lighthouse master doesn't have the key - he said that the tenant insisted on taking every key to it, and indeed I couldn't find any keys anywhere. I couldn't pick the lock either, not even with magic... Then I thought to watch the door until it opened, but someone was shadowing me, and I tried to lose them... and ended up here."

"You were right to lead them away," Lucien nodded. "We'll have to try again, we are getting close."

They talked a bit longer, then took turns sleeping with one of them keeping watch. The night was quiet, as was the day that followed, but they both knew that the hardest part was still to come.

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - The lighthouse

The door to the basement of the Anvil lighthouse appeared to be bolted from the inside. Lena could not pick the lock, not even with magic. "It is either a magical lock or... I should wait until someone comes out."

This was Lena's plan before she realised that she was being shadowed and tried to lead away the assassins. If it wasn't for Lucien, she would have been dead... but he happened upon that battle just in time, and now both of them stood on the hill by the Lady Doomstone overlooking the Anvil Bay.

"He must come out of there sooner or later!" Lena was becoming impatient. The lighthouse master did tell her after some persuasion that the tenant was a middle aged man, a mage perhaps, often dressed in a simple black robe. He didn't even know his name.

"He pays in advance for a year!" The lighthouse master exclaimed. "Every year, without fail! I don't ask any questions!"

"A Speaker or a Silencer," Lucien concluded. "He must be among the Black Hand... but at this point it doesn't matter that much who he is, as long as we find some proof... I know it sounds strange, but I don't care who it is, as long as our names are cleared, all our names..."

Lena didn't think it sounded strange, she shared the sentiment. Their exile and persecution had been going on for too long.

They've been waiting for several days watching the door, but no one came in or out.

"He might not be there," Lena mused. "But we still cannot open the door."

"But last time you watched him, you got shadowed," Lucien noted. "And before that, when I noticed that substituted scroll, they were watching. We'll have to bait them, there's nothing else for it. You stay here and watch. I'll stir up some fuss."

"Just try not to die, Speaker," Lena said in her thoughts as she didn't dare to say it aloud.

Lucien went to the basement door and knocked. When there was no answer, he banged on the door with his fists, making as much noise as possible. Several fishermen heard him and turned to look. He banged on the door again, then gave up and walked off towards the harbour with several people watching. There he started asking every passer by whether they'd seen a man in a black robe who lived in the lighthouse basement. No one had seen him of course, so Lucien went to the Flowing Bowl, ordered some ale and prepared to wait.

Lena remained by the lighthouse watching the door. She hid in the bushes hoping to blend in sufficiently to remain undetected even without casting any spells. She wore a chameleon ring, it wasn't powerful enough to conceal her completely, but every little helped, she figured. She sat there for a long time and nothing happened. Her skin started to burn slightly even though she fed just the night before, but being out in the sunlight all day was still going to affect her. She decided to ignore it. Then finally the night fell and she saw a dock hand approach the door and knock softly in a particular pattern. A secret knock. They should have expected it.

The door opened briefly, a scroll was passed through it to the dock hand, and the door was shut again. So the man was inside, she had to assume it was he. The dock hand stashed away the scroll and quickly walked back to the harbour. Had Lucien seen him? Lena wondered. She couldn't see him in the harbour, but that didn't mean much. She had to decide what to do, the dock hand was walking fast and would soon vanish from view. On a whim, she decided to follow.

The dock hand walked to the stables by the Northern gate, said a few words to a stable hand whom Lena had never seen before, passed him the scroll, turned around and walked back to the harbour. The stable hand mounted a horse and took off at a gallop. Lena saw Shadowmere following, so Lucien had been watching. She wondered whether he was being led into a trap. She was sure he realised the danger, but like her, he could not just ignore that bait. Everyone was baiting everyone, it seemed, and she wondered who would have the last word, the last move in that chain, and whether there was a way to get ahead and avoid being baited. She couldn't see such a way.

She turned around and followed the dock hand back to the harbour. He walked to the lighthouse and knocked on the basement door with a different secret knock. The door did not open and he left. "He passed his message," Lena figured. It also meant that the man in black robe was still inside, and as long as he was inside, Lena could do nothing but wait. The night was still long, but if she were to stay out the following day as well, she had to feed, which meant she had to leave her post again. She hesitated. Ah, but may be there was another way.

...

"Pssst!" Lena had run to the harbour and was now standing by the side entrance of Fo'c's'le where the dock hand was headed. "Get it here at half price!" She hissed, flashing her thigh. It had been a common enough thing to do, she'd seen it many a time, and indeed the dock hand grinned and turned to look at her. "This way - behind the house!" Lena motioned him to follow and he did, eager to save his money. When they were out of sight of the street, Lena cast a spell. "Come with me, I know a quiet spot," she said softly.

"Anything you say, darlin'," the dock hand staggered after her, as if charmed.

"Works every time," Lena grinned, leading him into a smuggler's cave nearby and out of sight of the city guard. She wanted to feed, yes, but she also had other plans for him.

Once in the cave, she quickly recast the spell to make sure the charm still held, then gently pushed him against the wall, leaning onto him.

"I've seen you around, my handsome," she said in a low, guttural voice and the man started to drool. "What'ou been up to? The lighthouse is my turf."

"Is it?" He moaned, his eyes glazing over. "Lucky me."

"Not been looking for me then?" She said in a clearer voice, and the man looked up.

"I didn't know!" He cried in his defense. "I been to see the ol' man."

"And so I noticed," she leaned against him a bit closer and felt his hands around her body. No matter. It wouldn't go much further. "The ol' man is mine."

"No, I didn't come for that, I swear!" The man was getting nervous. "I'd never... No, I just... you know... been looking out for him..."

"Aha..." Lena pushed against him and felt his hand slide up her thigh. She was almost done. "I think you're lying." She pushed his hand down again. "I want no competition."

"No, am not!" The man shook his head vigorously. "Look here - see this?" He produced a scroll, unrolling it under her nose. "That one was his... was supposed to drop it off into one of the fishing barrels... will do it later, it'll keep... I promise I ain't no competition for you!" Lena smiled and he dropped the scroll, returning his hands to her body. "I'll pay you full price..." His hand started wandering up her thigh again, but she pushed it down.

"What barrel?" She leaned into him, breathing into his ear and nibbling it gently.

"The one without the fish..." he moaned and she allowed his hand to go up.

"Good boy..." She bit his neck.

...

Lena had no intention of killing the dock hand. She took enough blood to see her through the following day and left him sleep in the cave. He would not remember her face anyway, he would not remember right what had happened... She took some coin from his purse, undid his trousers, the illusion would be complete. She picked up the scroll and read it. It made no sense, just random words jumbled together, it must have been in code. She tried this and that, but could not figure it out. One word stood out however: Applewatch. She knew it was a Black Hand safehouse near Bruma, Lucien had told her about that. They were planning an ambush, he was in mortal danger. Yet Lena could not leave her post, she could not warn him, she could not come to his aid. She hesitated. Then she sneaked into the Mages Guild library and forged another scroll with all the same words but replacing Applewatch by Weatherleah, a cottage in the Imperial Reserve that she came across in her travels. She didn't think it would fool anyone, but it was worth a shot. Then she dropped the forgery into the one fishing barrel without the fish.

It was almost dawn when Lena resumed her post in the bushes behind the lighthouse. She stayed there all day, and again her skin started to burn. But then, just after sunset, she heard a faint noise from the door as if someone was undoing the bolts... She quickly cast invisibility and approached. The door opened, the man in black robe looked out, saw nothing, then went outside, pulling the door shut after him. The lock clicked but Lena had already slipped inside. She could only hope that Lucien would survive that trap on his own.

The basement of the lighthouse was a shrine. It was a place of madness, that much was clear. There were papers everywhere, Dark Brotherhood contracts, copied, altered. She found a journal too - the man was a Speaker. She gathered what she could and slipped out again before the man returned. She didn't think he'd return too soon anyway, she expected he'd have gone to Applewatch to see to his trap. She wanted to rush there too but her task was not yet done - the Listener had to have her report, had to see the proof, that was most important of all. "Our names have to be cleared," Lucien made a point of it earlier. "Regardless of whether I fall or not. You must go to the Listener first, no matter what happens." He had expected a trap, and was prepared to be the bait so that she could clear all their names... She took a deep breath and rode to Bravil.

In Bravil she had to find a way to deliver her evidence without being seen, after all, she was still exiled for her transgressions, with a death sentence hanging over her head. If the Listener saw her, he would likely attack, and she had no illusions of not being able to stand against him.

She spent the day in her house writing her report. She included a number of scrolls and a diary, but she couldn't bring it all, the Listener would have to see the room in the lighthouse for himself to judge the sheer scale of that madness. She wrote it all. Then she slipped into his house during the night and left it on the table. But would he act on that? She had to be sure, and that meant losing more time, waiting to see what would happen.

The Listener didn't disappoint, and Lena saw two Brothers leaving his house with her scroll in hand. They mounted their horses and rode towards Anvil, and Lena mounted hers and sped towards Bruma, praying to Arkay that she wasn't too late.

[Lena Wolf]

Sun's Dusk, 3E437 - The Black Hand

Lucien was following the man with a suspicious scroll that he received from the traitor. They were riding at full gallop across the Colovian Highlands, presumably towards Bruma. When they were passing by an unassuming cave, their horses were shot.

"What?!" Lucien landed in a crouch when Shadowmere threw him off and sped away, she didn't appear to be seriously hurt. The other horse lay dead however, and its rider was fighting off the attackers. "Bandits?" Lucien wondered, trying to keep out of sight. Yet he too was attacked by another person. "Three attackers in total," Lucien noted, parrying.

The fight was short, the attackers were skilled. The man with the scroll eliminated one of them - killed or severely wounded him, Lucien could not tell - but the second attacker got the better of the man, and joined his comrade against Lucien. Of the three attackers, two were wearing that particular dark leather armour, the third one wore a black robe - they had been sent by the Black Hand.

"Why attack the other man if they are after me?" Lucien wondered, twisting out of the way of their lunges. Things didn't add up. The one wearing robe was casting spells too, and Lucien could not avoid those. He was weakened and felt physically sick but ignored it and lunged just as the mage was casting another spell... A bout of frost hit him right in the face but his sword was already piercing the mage's chest and Lucien brought it home by sliding it up, all the way to the neck. He fell onto the mage as the frost paralysed his body. "Baronoff's Bloody Icicle", he thought. He always found the name of that spell quite pretentious, but had to admit that it was highly effective. The paralysis didn't last long, but the frost made him sluggish for a while still, and the third assassin landed another hit, and another, before Lucien finally got him too.

He rolled on the ground, he could not stand up.

"Oh that is great," he swore. "And it wasn't even the main ambush, just a roadside attack... They are not taking any chances."

He bandaged himself up as best he could and crawled over to each of the four men on the ground.

"Two men and two women," he corrected himself, finally having had the chance to look at them properly. "Our armour and a Black Hand robe... She was a Silencer, I think... I've never met her... I wonder if she had only just been promoted..." He looked into her face - she was young, and he thought of Lena, just as young, and still only an Assassin, but more skilled and more resilient than this young Silencer that he just killed. "If we ever get through this alive," he thought, "I want no other Silencer but Wolf."

He finally got to the man from Anvil that he had been chasing. He went through his pockets looking for the scroll, found it and unrolled it - the scroll was empty.

"He was leading me into an ambush..." he shook his head. "But we got ambushed along the way... Fate really works in peculiar ways."

Lucien killed the Brother that was still breathing and crawled into the cave from whence they came hoping that it would be clear of bandits and vermin. It was - he found several bodies inside. Stew was still simmering over the fire... The bandits never saw it coming.

"Well, you were successful against the bandits but you failed your contract nonetheless," he thought of the dead Brothers and Sisters outside. Their corpses should dissuade any casual adventurers from entering. He would stay in that cave until his wounds recovered enough so he could stand. "You should take the time to heal your wounds before getting new ones, Speaker," Lena's words sounded in his head. Speaker. She still wouldn't call him by his name. "Very well, Assassin, I'll take the time," he replied to her in his mind, then fell asleep.

...

Although the scroll that Lucien found was empty, he knew exactly where the ambush would be set up - at Applewatch. The Black Hand safehouse was the logical place for it, especially since Arquen was already spurring on others to unite against him.

"I must confront them there," he thought. "It will distract them long enough to allow Wolf to enter the lighthouse and then bring her report to the Listener... Let us hope that I survive..."

The road to Bruma had two more ambushes for Lucien, but he dealt with both of them without much trouble. "They are running out of people," he thought, looking over his attackers. "These aren't of the same caliber as the ones I met before. These are just to keep the pressure up."

When he was near Applewatch, he let Shadowmere go and approached the house on foot, watching the surroundings. He saw several people in black robes enter the house, and recognised Arquen among them. They were gathering there, it seemed, the Black Hand was finally uniting against him. His chances of survival were getting slimmer and slimmer with each new person arriving.

Then suddenly he saw someone exit and leave, then another person exit and search the area around Applewatch. Were they having disagreements? Or were they waiting for someone? For him, perhaps? Why did they think he'd come there at all? And then it dawned on him - the man with the empty scroll was supposed to lead him there, but they got intercepted, as if the Black Hand wasn't that united at all, as if his exile and the assassins were separate from this trap, from the traitor...

Lucien didn't hurry to go in. He waited to see whether anyone else would arrive or leave, watching the sentry by the entrance. Then a middle aged man arrived and Lucien recognised Mathieu Bellamont. Was he the traitor? It was hard to believe... He was considered one of the most effective and loyal members of the Brotherhood... but stranger things were known to happen. With the arrival of Bellamont, the sentry also entered the house, it seemed the gathering was now complete. The one person missing was Lucien Lachance.

"They will kill me if I go in," he reflected, wondering what to do. "How many of them are inside? Four, five, perhaps? I stand no chance." Yet something had to be done, he had to keep them there to allow Lena the time to deliver evidence and then to give the Listener the time to investigate her find. Lucien tried to estimate how much time that would need to be. "If Bellamont is indeed the traitor and he rode here from Anvil," he reasoned, "then Wolf should have delivered her evidence just about now. The Listener would then need to ride from Bravil to Anvil, search the place and ride back... Two days, all in all perhaps, if he hurries... I should give it another half a day and then go in."

He settled down between the rocks with a clear view of the house and prepared to spend the last half a day of his life in quiet meditation.

...

The night was about to fall when Lucien decided he could not wait any longer. People have already been going out of the house, looking around, peering down the road. They were getting impatient, and may be were about to leave, and he could not allow that. He got up, straightened his back, wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, walked over to the house without hiding and knocked on the door.

There was no answer. The house was perfectly still. He opened the door and entered.

What happened next was so quick that no one really understood it until all was quiet again. As Lucien entered the house and took a few steps towards the middle of the room, he got attacked from several directions. He twisted and spun, his sword extended, blood spatter covered the walls and the floor as half a dozen people in black robes were doing their dance. All was quiet - everyone stifled their cries of pain, these were no novices. Then suddenly the fighting stopped. Two people were on the floor unable to get up, three others were still standing, swords at the ready, looking around as if they lost their quarry. Blood was dripping from their robes, much of it their own.

"Where is he?" One of them said in a hoarse voice. "He could not just vanish."

"He could, as a matter of fact..." Another shook his head. "Vanish from view, at least. He should still be here somewhere. Mat, don't you have a spell for that?"

The third person cast a spell and purple light briefly filled the room, settling on the shapes of five people and many rats.

"Rats?" A woman hissed. "Who cares about the rats in the basement! That is a stupid spell!"

They searched the room, but it had many corners where a person could hide, crates and furniture in the way.

"Is he dead, perhaps?" One of them wondered.

"He is not," another shook his head. "And we need his body as proof."

Then they heard the door rattle, and one of them spun around. "There he is!!! Tried to escape, did you?!"

The attack was savage. They slashed at every part of his body, no longer aiming for the heart, they were determined to make sure he didn't vanish again. Then they hoisted his body by the neck which in itself would have killed him, had he not been already dead.

"And so it's done!" Arquen was triumphant. "The traitor has been slain! And here is his body as proof!"

"Well, it's a body... but did you really have to slice up his face like that?" Another assassin pulled the hood off the corpse to reveal a dark-haired head mutilated beyond recognition.

"She got carried away," another one grinned. "There isn't much left of his body either." He peeled off a piece of the blood-soaked robe and a good chunk of skin and tissue came off with that as well. "Bah! Every organ is mincemeat now..."

"That'll keep him from coming back from the dead," Arquen laughed. "I like to be thorough. We should report to the Night Mother now."

"I wonder why the Listener isn't here," one of them remarked, helping one of the wounded Brothers get up.

"The Bosmer is getting soft with years," another scoffed. "It was time the Night Mother replaced him."

Eventually they left, and the rats started crawling out of their holes attracted by the smell of fresh blood.