Post by Will on May 28, 2011 21:05:18 GMT -5
I’ve mostly stuck with Nords in my stories, other then The Necromancer’s Curse, in which you are a Redguard. I’m going to start branching out to other races. This story also shows my opinion that quests should give multiple choices in how you complete them. Please read “The Throat of the World” and “The Wrong Target” before you read this story. This is optional, but recommended. Presenting- The Shadow Khajiit. Hope you enjoy~Will Keith.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You drop off the ledge, falling onto the Breton below you, sinking your dagger into his throat. You pick up his body, and lightly deposit it into a nearby crate. Enemy killed, body hidden, ten seconds, absolute silence. The Brotherhood had trained you well.
You were Dar’Krishan, a Khajiit pickpocket and thief from the city of Solitude.
***********************
As a child you had escaped from an underground slaver camp in Vvardenfell. Slavery had been “Officially” outlawed for many years, but that did not stop the rich and powerful.
While the other Khajiits and Argonians obeyed the Dunmer like dogs, you had never submitted to them. One night, as one of the slavers came to give you your nightly food ration (A loaf of bread with water), you reached your arms through the bars of your cell, grasping the man by his shirt. You pushed off the bars with your legs, smashing his skull into the iron bars of your cell.
You grabbed his key, unlocking your cuffs and your cell door, as well as taking his dagger. You could have easily freed the other ten slaves, but you had seen how weak they were. It would be more cruel to let them starve in the wild, then to leave them here, where they were mistreated, but alive.
You left the crying slaves in their cells, and made your way out of the cave. Had your fur been yellow or orange like other Khajiits, the slavers would have seen you as you walked right past them, as you walked across the open yard out of their camp. You were different though…
Your skin and fur was pitch black. In the darkness of night, you moved as though you were a shadow, unseen and unheard by anyone.
************************
You pull yourself back to reality, continuing through Alundor’s Shield, a hidden fortress high in the Jerall Mountains. You sneak through long halls and chambers, when you see a Dunmer in heavy Ebony armor sipping from a large tankard. He hobbled away, obviously drunk. You knew you could easily sneak past him, but you would not miss a chance to slay one of the race who had enslaved you.
You sprint silently after him, drawing your dagger as you run. He turns just as you reach him, but has no time to react as you sink your blade into the gap in his armor under his arm, stabbing him in the heart. He falls instantly, the heavy armor making more noise then you had hoped for.
“What the hell was that?” you heard an Argonian voice from a nearby hallway. You look around and see a crossing path above your head. You kick off the wall of the hallway you were in, and climb onto the pathway.
The Argonian ran to the Dunmer’s body, and before he could take a breath to raise the alarm, you drop from the platform and snap the Argonian’s neck. Argonians were so easy to kill.
Once again you find your mind wandering to your past, after your escape from the slavers.
*************************
You were young, only fifteen years in age, and by the customs of Khajiits you were still called M’Krishan, the “M” symbolizing youth and virginity.
After five years of living in the wilds of Morrowind, you found a ship, whose captain was looking for crewmembers for a journey to the far-off land of Skyrim.
Figuring anything would be better then the deserts and swamps of Morrowind, you sign on to the crew. You sailed for months, falling for a female Khajiit named S’Rashza, who was also on the crew, losing the Khajiit title of “Child” not long after. After many months of travel, you were awoken by something massive crashing into the ship.
All you remember was climbing out of the crew chambers, to see your captain smashing a massive, Demonic looking war hammer into the skull of a crystalline Dragon, when you were knocked off of the ship by it’s flailing tail. You were sure you were going to die, but you were saved by S’Rashza, who pulled you to ropes that your captain had thrown to the crew who had gone overboard.
You thought you had seen the worst Tamriel had to offer when you had gotten into a fight with a Bull Netch soon after your escape from the slavers, and now you’ve seen a Dragon, and you hadn’t even reached land yet.
In the early days of Evening Star your ship makes port at a large city that the captain had called Solitude. As soon as you had docked, the captain had run off, and you hadn’t seen him again. S’Rashza had also gone her own way, at your request, knowing that the life you would live would not be suitable for her.
And so you began your life as a pickpocket and thief, using your naturally black coat to lurk in any shadow, taking whatever you desired without being seen even once. You were now called Dar’Krishan, Dar for “Thief”.
Then one day, you marked a target for pickpocketing as you did every other day, a Bosmer woman. You waited in silence, hidden in the shadows of an alley as she walked past, and reached out your hand for the bag of coin that was sticking obviously out of her purse.
Your mind could not keep up as you felt an intense pain shoot through your arm, and before you could think you found yourself pinned to the wall, a dagger through your hand and another dagger being held to your throat, the Bosmer woman standing before you with an evil grin on her face.
“Never have I seen a Khajiit with a pelt like yours…” she hissed. “Perhaps I should use it as a coat?” You felt the tip of her dagger pressing into your neck, and you knew this was it. “Or perhaps!” she said excitedly, “you could become one of us, I’m sure our Speaker would find a use for you…”
***********************
Once again you shake yourself out of your memories, and leave the bodies of the Dunmer and the Argonian where they lay, as you continue towards your main target. You wondered how deep underground you were; this whole fortress was built into the side of the mountain.
The entire building was basically a stone wall with a massive cave system cut into the mountain behind it. It was hastily constructed a year ago, when a rich Imperial nobleman was caught having relations with the Count of Falkreath’s daughter. Having been nearly killed by the Count’s guard, he and the Count’s daughter had fled the city, and using all of his money and resources, hired men to construct this fortress where they would live together away from any city. The Dark Brotherhood had been contacted by the Count himself, and tasked with killing the Imperial and recovering the Count’s daughter.
Personally, you believed that the nobleman had the right idea, and that the Count had no right to treat his adult daughter as a child, but a contract was a contract, and you would not fail it. As you continue to sneak through the halls, you go back to the day when you tried to rob the Bosmer woman.
*************************
The Bosmer violently pulled the dagger from your hand, and with a wave of her own and a glow of blue light, the wound healed instantly.
“My name is Aliira. Khajiit, you just tried to pickpocket a member of the Dark Brotherhood. I could cut your throat right now, or you could join us and become a member of the Brotherhood. You’re as dark as the Night Mother herself, and I have no doubt that with training you would become an effective, and very rich Assassin.”
Of course, you accepted her offer, and after a five day journey on horseback, you found yourself within the city of Windhelm, where Aliira had said the Skyrim sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood was hidden. At night, she led you into a large graveyard, to a mausoleum that belonged to the Suhtilis family.
“Something is wrong…” she whispered, and she runs to the door of the mausoleum, which seemed to have been pushed over. “We do not use this door, there is a portal, behind the mausoleum. Stay close to me.”
She draws her daggers and silently enters the mausoleum, walking down the spiraling stone staircase, into a long hallway with an open steel door leading into it, and through the darkness, your Khajiit eyes allow you to see six doors, three on each side, one of which was broken off it’s hinges, the first on the left side.
Aliira peers through the door, and sighs deeply. “The sanctuary has been found, by whom I do not know. Follow me.” She continues down the hall, and as you pass the door, you see the bodies of another Bosmer, and a Nord who had been beheaded. At the end of the hall, a dark door with carvings of a skull, above a series of human figures who were bowing before it. When Aliira gets close to the door, you hear a hissing voice.
“What is the color of night?” The voice seemed to come from the door itself.
“Sanguine, my brother,” Aliira said, and the door slowly swung open. On the other side of the door was a large stone chamber, and within it was a complete bloodbath. The body of a Khajiit with it’s head split open lay at your feet, and the bodies of an Orc, a Redguard woman, and many others lay scattered about the room, all wearing black robes, except for the Orc, who was in heavy steel armor.
“Who could have possibly done this?” Aliira whispered, walking through the bodies to a room in the back of the chamber. An Imperial man lay against the back wall, a silver shortsword piercing his chest. “Even the Speaker lays dead… I do not see the body of Arraso, he was our Mage, but these wounds are not of Magika, he could not have been responsible. Perhaps he escaped.”
“I did not escape, Aliira,” said the voice of an Altmer from the shadows. “It was a guard. It seems our new Argonian spilled the location of our sanctuary to one of the Countess’ bodyguards. He broke into our sanctuary, killed every one of the other assassins, and knocked me out.”
“This is unfortunate, indeed, but the Brotherhood has seen worse. I will send for members from the Morrowind, Cyrodiil, and Black Marsh sanctuaries. We will rebuild and continue our mission.”
And for two years, you trained with Aliira, while Arraso recruited and trained other members, and eventually the assassins from the other parts of Tamriel were able to go back to their homelands. You were now a Silencer in the Dark Brotherhood, and one of their most effective assassins.
You had completed many contracts, including hunting down and killing the Argonian who had released the location of the Windhelm Sanctuary. One night, Aliira had given you a contract of what she had described as “Of the utmost importance”, an Imperial who had run off with a Count’s daughter.
**************************
You come to a steel door at the end of the hallway, and see a female Nord in Orcish armor standing guard, a massive Claymore on her back. You roll out of the hall, throwing your left dagger, and it sticks into the gap in her armor by her knee. You sprint forward, and end it with a quick thrust with your remaining dagger. You drag open the steel door as quietly as you could. The change of scenery threw you off, the bleak and dark hallway leading into a bright and colorful bedroom, with a massive four-poster bed set against the back wall. You could see a Nord woman sleeping beneath the sheets, and you guessed she was the Count’s daughter. The Imperial was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly you hear a loud voice shout from behind you, and you roll to the side, fearing you had actually been caught unaware. The Imperial was standing in the doorway, holding two steel sabers. The woman in the bed shrieked, sitting up and pulling the blankets over her body.
“I knew you would come, assassin. Drop those toys and fight me with honor,” he said calmly, pointing at your daggers and throwing one of the sabers to you. You catch it by the hilt, and while you had no intention of a duel, you had to admit your daggers were not a good option in direct combat. You never expected to meet this man face to face. You decide to play along, and unbuckled your dagger’s straps, throwing them to the side.
Of course, Aliira had taught you how to fight with every weapon imaginable, from the smallest kitchen knife to the heaviest of war hammers. Daggers were the preferred killing tool of assassins, but they were by no means inadequately trained with all other weapons. The saber felt familiar in your hand, and you take your stance, facing the Imperial.
He lunges forward, and your blades meet, clashing together many times, as you step forward and back, masterfully parrying and dodging his strikes. The Imperial was obviously a master of the blade, easily evading your strikes. The woman lay crying beneath the blankets of the bed, obviously fearing for her lover’s life, but unable to aid him in this clash of metal.
You don’t know how long you had been fighting, but it seemed as though the Imperial was growing tired, slowing down. He let in one inaccurate strike, and you took advantage by smashing his sword from his hand with all your strength, and he collapsed to the floor, and you put the sword to his neck.
“NO!” the woman shouted, and she rolled out of the bed, throwing herself over the Imperial. “Why do you do this? What right do you have to take the lives of the innocent? What honor allows you to kill the defenseless?” she cried, as the Imperial tried to push her away from him, out of harm’s way.
You remember S’Rashza, how you felt about her, how you gave her up simply so she would be safe and kept from the life of a criminal. You sigh and drop the saber. You throw the woman off of the Imperial, and draw your dagger. The Brotherhood confirmed the death of the target by using magic to check the blood on the assassin’s weapon.
You kneel over the Imperial and cut a good wound into his arm, making sure to soak the blade in his blood. You lift your left hand and wave it over his arm, and the wound mends instantly. You then rip off his signet ring, with his family seal carved onto the large gem.
You head towards the door, and the Count‘s daughter stands, covering herself with the blankets again. “I…thank you, Khajiit. You have shown mercy that my own father was incapable of. How will you explain why you returned without me?”
You were not one to talk much, but you would answer this one question. “When I killed the Imperial, you threw yourself off the side of the mountain in grief. I will place the body of the Nord woman outside this door at the base of the mountains, and I’ll make sure her body is not recognizable. When they find the body, they will guess it was you. The blood on my dagger and the signet ring will be enough to prove his death,” you said, waving a hand at the Imperial, and you walk out of the room.
After days of travel, you return to the sanctuary in Windhelm. Displaying your dagger and the ring for Aliira. She holds a hand over the dagger, and looks the ring over through a spyglass, and seems satisfied with the results.
“You have done well once again, Dar’Krishan. You are our best assassin, and because of this accomplishment, I feel it appropriate to give you our most important and dangerous contract yet.”
She opens her desk, and pulls out a sheet of parchment with the seal of the Dark Brotherhood stamped in blood-red wax. “We have found the man who destroyed our sanctuary all those years ago…”
TO BE CONTINUED~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You drop off the ledge, falling onto the Breton below you, sinking your dagger into his throat. You pick up his body, and lightly deposit it into a nearby crate. Enemy killed, body hidden, ten seconds, absolute silence. The Brotherhood had trained you well.
You were Dar’Krishan, a Khajiit pickpocket and thief from the city of Solitude.
***********************
As a child you had escaped from an underground slaver camp in Vvardenfell. Slavery had been “Officially” outlawed for many years, but that did not stop the rich and powerful.
While the other Khajiits and Argonians obeyed the Dunmer like dogs, you had never submitted to them. One night, as one of the slavers came to give you your nightly food ration (A loaf of bread with water), you reached your arms through the bars of your cell, grasping the man by his shirt. You pushed off the bars with your legs, smashing his skull into the iron bars of your cell.
You grabbed his key, unlocking your cuffs and your cell door, as well as taking his dagger. You could have easily freed the other ten slaves, but you had seen how weak they were. It would be more cruel to let them starve in the wild, then to leave them here, where they were mistreated, but alive.
You left the crying slaves in their cells, and made your way out of the cave. Had your fur been yellow or orange like other Khajiits, the slavers would have seen you as you walked right past them, as you walked across the open yard out of their camp. You were different though…
Your skin and fur was pitch black. In the darkness of night, you moved as though you were a shadow, unseen and unheard by anyone.
************************
You pull yourself back to reality, continuing through Alundor’s Shield, a hidden fortress high in the Jerall Mountains. You sneak through long halls and chambers, when you see a Dunmer in heavy Ebony armor sipping from a large tankard. He hobbled away, obviously drunk. You knew you could easily sneak past him, but you would not miss a chance to slay one of the race who had enslaved you.
You sprint silently after him, drawing your dagger as you run. He turns just as you reach him, but has no time to react as you sink your blade into the gap in his armor under his arm, stabbing him in the heart. He falls instantly, the heavy armor making more noise then you had hoped for.
“What the hell was that?” you heard an Argonian voice from a nearby hallway. You look around and see a crossing path above your head. You kick off the wall of the hallway you were in, and climb onto the pathway.
The Argonian ran to the Dunmer’s body, and before he could take a breath to raise the alarm, you drop from the platform and snap the Argonian’s neck. Argonians were so easy to kill.
Once again you find your mind wandering to your past, after your escape from the slavers.
*************************
You were young, only fifteen years in age, and by the customs of Khajiits you were still called M’Krishan, the “M” symbolizing youth and virginity.
After five years of living in the wilds of Morrowind, you found a ship, whose captain was looking for crewmembers for a journey to the far-off land of Skyrim.
Figuring anything would be better then the deserts and swamps of Morrowind, you sign on to the crew. You sailed for months, falling for a female Khajiit named S’Rashza, who was also on the crew, losing the Khajiit title of “Child” not long after. After many months of travel, you were awoken by something massive crashing into the ship.
All you remember was climbing out of the crew chambers, to see your captain smashing a massive, Demonic looking war hammer into the skull of a crystalline Dragon, when you were knocked off of the ship by it’s flailing tail. You were sure you were going to die, but you were saved by S’Rashza, who pulled you to ropes that your captain had thrown to the crew who had gone overboard.
You thought you had seen the worst Tamriel had to offer when you had gotten into a fight with a Bull Netch soon after your escape from the slavers, and now you’ve seen a Dragon, and you hadn’t even reached land yet.
In the early days of Evening Star your ship makes port at a large city that the captain had called Solitude. As soon as you had docked, the captain had run off, and you hadn’t seen him again. S’Rashza had also gone her own way, at your request, knowing that the life you would live would not be suitable for her.
And so you began your life as a pickpocket and thief, using your naturally black coat to lurk in any shadow, taking whatever you desired without being seen even once. You were now called Dar’Krishan, Dar for “Thief”.
Then one day, you marked a target for pickpocketing as you did every other day, a Bosmer woman. You waited in silence, hidden in the shadows of an alley as she walked past, and reached out your hand for the bag of coin that was sticking obviously out of her purse.
Your mind could not keep up as you felt an intense pain shoot through your arm, and before you could think you found yourself pinned to the wall, a dagger through your hand and another dagger being held to your throat, the Bosmer woman standing before you with an evil grin on her face.
“Never have I seen a Khajiit with a pelt like yours…” she hissed. “Perhaps I should use it as a coat?” You felt the tip of her dagger pressing into your neck, and you knew this was it. “Or perhaps!” she said excitedly, “you could become one of us, I’m sure our Speaker would find a use for you…”
***********************
Once again you shake yourself out of your memories, and leave the bodies of the Dunmer and the Argonian where they lay, as you continue towards your main target. You wondered how deep underground you were; this whole fortress was built into the side of the mountain.
The entire building was basically a stone wall with a massive cave system cut into the mountain behind it. It was hastily constructed a year ago, when a rich Imperial nobleman was caught having relations with the Count of Falkreath’s daughter. Having been nearly killed by the Count’s guard, he and the Count’s daughter had fled the city, and using all of his money and resources, hired men to construct this fortress where they would live together away from any city. The Dark Brotherhood had been contacted by the Count himself, and tasked with killing the Imperial and recovering the Count’s daughter.
Personally, you believed that the nobleman had the right idea, and that the Count had no right to treat his adult daughter as a child, but a contract was a contract, and you would not fail it. As you continue to sneak through the halls, you go back to the day when you tried to rob the Bosmer woman.
*************************
The Bosmer violently pulled the dagger from your hand, and with a wave of her own and a glow of blue light, the wound healed instantly.
“My name is Aliira. Khajiit, you just tried to pickpocket a member of the Dark Brotherhood. I could cut your throat right now, or you could join us and become a member of the Brotherhood. You’re as dark as the Night Mother herself, and I have no doubt that with training you would become an effective, and very rich Assassin.”
Of course, you accepted her offer, and after a five day journey on horseback, you found yourself within the city of Windhelm, where Aliira had said the Skyrim sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood was hidden. At night, she led you into a large graveyard, to a mausoleum that belonged to the Suhtilis family.
“Something is wrong…” she whispered, and she runs to the door of the mausoleum, which seemed to have been pushed over. “We do not use this door, there is a portal, behind the mausoleum. Stay close to me.”
She draws her daggers and silently enters the mausoleum, walking down the spiraling stone staircase, into a long hallway with an open steel door leading into it, and through the darkness, your Khajiit eyes allow you to see six doors, three on each side, one of which was broken off it’s hinges, the first on the left side.
Aliira peers through the door, and sighs deeply. “The sanctuary has been found, by whom I do not know. Follow me.” She continues down the hall, and as you pass the door, you see the bodies of another Bosmer, and a Nord who had been beheaded. At the end of the hall, a dark door with carvings of a skull, above a series of human figures who were bowing before it. When Aliira gets close to the door, you hear a hissing voice.
“What is the color of night?” The voice seemed to come from the door itself.
“Sanguine, my brother,” Aliira said, and the door slowly swung open. On the other side of the door was a large stone chamber, and within it was a complete bloodbath. The body of a Khajiit with it’s head split open lay at your feet, and the bodies of an Orc, a Redguard woman, and many others lay scattered about the room, all wearing black robes, except for the Orc, who was in heavy steel armor.
“Who could have possibly done this?” Aliira whispered, walking through the bodies to a room in the back of the chamber. An Imperial man lay against the back wall, a silver shortsword piercing his chest. “Even the Speaker lays dead… I do not see the body of Arraso, he was our Mage, but these wounds are not of Magika, he could not have been responsible. Perhaps he escaped.”
“I did not escape, Aliira,” said the voice of an Altmer from the shadows. “It was a guard. It seems our new Argonian spilled the location of our sanctuary to one of the Countess’ bodyguards. He broke into our sanctuary, killed every one of the other assassins, and knocked me out.”
“This is unfortunate, indeed, but the Brotherhood has seen worse. I will send for members from the Morrowind, Cyrodiil, and Black Marsh sanctuaries. We will rebuild and continue our mission.”
And for two years, you trained with Aliira, while Arraso recruited and trained other members, and eventually the assassins from the other parts of Tamriel were able to go back to their homelands. You were now a Silencer in the Dark Brotherhood, and one of their most effective assassins.
You had completed many contracts, including hunting down and killing the Argonian who had released the location of the Windhelm Sanctuary. One night, Aliira had given you a contract of what she had described as “Of the utmost importance”, an Imperial who had run off with a Count’s daughter.
**************************
You come to a steel door at the end of the hallway, and see a female Nord in Orcish armor standing guard, a massive Claymore on her back. You roll out of the hall, throwing your left dagger, and it sticks into the gap in her armor by her knee. You sprint forward, and end it with a quick thrust with your remaining dagger. You drag open the steel door as quietly as you could. The change of scenery threw you off, the bleak and dark hallway leading into a bright and colorful bedroom, with a massive four-poster bed set against the back wall. You could see a Nord woman sleeping beneath the sheets, and you guessed she was the Count’s daughter. The Imperial was nowhere to be seen.
Suddenly you hear a loud voice shout from behind you, and you roll to the side, fearing you had actually been caught unaware. The Imperial was standing in the doorway, holding two steel sabers. The woman in the bed shrieked, sitting up and pulling the blankets over her body.
“I knew you would come, assassin. Drop those toys and fight me with honor,” he said calmly, pointing at your daggers and throwing one of the sabers to you. You catch it by the hilt, and while you had no intention of a duel, you had to admit your daggers were not a good option in direct combat. You never expected to meet this man face to face. You decide to play along, and unbuckled your dagger’s straps, throwing them to the side.
Of course, Aliira had taught you how to fight with every weapon imaginable, from the smallest kitchen knife to the heaviest of war hammers. Daggers were the preferred killing tool of assassins, but they were by no means inadequately trained with all other weapons. The saber felt familiar in your hand, and you take your stance, facing the Imperial.
He lunges forward, and your blades meet, clashing together many times, as you step forward and back, masterfully parrying and dodging his strikes. The Imperial was obviously a master of the blade, easily evading your strikes. The woman lay crying beneath the blankets of the bed, obviously fearing for her lover’s life, but unable to aid him in this clash of metal.
You don’t know how long you had been fighting, but it seemed as though the Imperial was growing tired, slowing down. He let in one inaccurate strike, and you took advantage by smashing his sword from his hand with all your strength, and he collapsed to the floor, and you put the sword to his neck.
“NO!” the woman shouted, and she rolled out of the bed, throwing herself over the Imperial. “Why do you do this? What right do you have to take the lives of the innocent? What honor allows you to kill the defenseless?” she cried, as the Imperial tried to push her away from him, out of harm’s way.
You remember S’Rashza, how you felt about her, how you gave her up simply so she would be safe and kept from the life of a criminal. You sigh and drop the saber. You throw the woman off of the Imperial, and draw your dagger. The Brotherhood confirmed the death of the target by using magic to check the blood on the assassin’s weapon.
You kneel over the Imperial and cut a good wound into his arm, making sure to soak the blade in his blood. You lift your left hand and wave it over his arm, and the wound mends instantly. You then rip off his signet ring, with his family seal carved onto the large gem.
You head towards the door, and the Count‘s daughter stands, covering herself with the blankets again. “I…thank you, Khajiit. You have shown mercy that my own father was incapable of. How will you explain why you returned without me?”
You were not one to talk much, but you would answer this one question. “When I killed the Imperial, you threw yourself off the side of the mountain in grief. I will place the body of the Nord woman outside this door at the base of the mountains, and I’ll make sure her body is not recognizable. When they find the body, they will guess it was you. The blood on my dagger and the signet ring will be enough to prove his death,” you said, waving a hand at the Imperial, and you walk out of the room.
After days of travel, you return to the sanctuary in Windhelm. Displaying your dagger and the ring for Aliira. She holds a hand over the dagger, and looks the ring over through a spyglass, and seems satisfied with the results.
“You have done well once again, Dar’Krishan. You are our best assassin, and because of this accomplishment, I feel it appropriate to give you our most important and dangerous contract yet.”
She opens her desk, and pulls out a sheet of parchment with the seal of the Dark Brotherhood stamped in blood-red wax. “We have found the man who destroyed our sanctuary all those years ago…”
TO BE CONTINUED~
