THE BLACK HORSE COURIER
SPECIAL EDITIONTHE 'TALL, DARK, STRANGER' STRIKES AGAIN!
TALES OF A TALL DARK WARRIOR HAVE BEEN CIRCLING AROUND CYRODIIL. LEGENDS OF THE MAN THAT WASN'T ANYWHERE. FOR TEN YEARS, A STRANGER HAS BEEN DOING QUESTS, GAINING FAME, AND CREATING STORIES. WE HAVE INTERVIEWED TEN CIVILIANS THAT CLAIMED TO HAVE SEEN HIM.
"MY SONS WERE GOING OFF TO THE FAMILY FARM TO RID OUR PROPERTY OF GOBLINS. A MAN CAME UP AS THEY WERE HEADING TO ODIIL FARM, AND ASKED IF HE COULD HELP. HE DID, AND AS SOON AS THE GOBLINS ARRIVED, HE SHOT 'EM DOWN WITH A BOW! HE ACTUALLY MANAGED TO GET THREE GOBLINS WITH ONE ARROW! IMAGINE THAT! " SAYS ONE MAN, NAME UNDISCLOSED, IN CHORROL.
"HE BROKE OUT OF THE BRUMA JAIL, ONCE. KILLED THREE GUARDS, LATER FOUND TO BE CURRUPT, TO GET OUT!" EXCLAIMS A BRUMA JAILER.
"HE SAVED ME FROM A HORDE OF WOLVES!" A YOUNG WOOD ELF TELLS. "JUST RAN UP AN' SLAUGHTERED THEM ALL! HE WAS AMAZING! JUST ONE SLICE OF HIS SWORD, AN' HALF OF 'EM ARE DEAD!"
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I rubbed my head, and tried to remember doing any of those things. I remembered the Bruma jail, all right... but...
"Hey, sir, move it, will ya?" called an old toothless butcher carting a load of dead sheep. I stepped out of the road, and sat down on an old hollow stump. Something rattled inside. I leaped back, and approached the stump cautiously. I kicked it. Another rattle. I found myself turning it over, and saw... a letter. But even I knew that letters don't rattle. I opened it up. Inside was 500 septims - and a letter telling a silencer (whatever that was) to kill someone named Alval Uvani.
I frowned. An assassins guild quest? Just then, the sound of a horse running downhill reached me. My eyes widened as I took in the rider. It was a tall, pale girl with emerald green eyes and black hair. "Put that down!" she snarled. I quickly dropped the letter and bag of septims, and backed away.
"Did you read this?" She demanded.
"Yes," I said softly.
"It seems I will have to kill you." She launched herself at me and attacked. She was good, but not good enough. After a minute or three, her black stygian iron sword, now beat up and rather cracked, skittered out of her hand and fell onto the dusty road. Her eyes narrowed as she took me in.
"Who are you?" she snapped. I decided that the assassin wasn't one to take kindly to being defeated.
"As a matter of fact," I began slowly, "I have absolutely no idea."
"Oh, please," she scoffed. "Not the amnesiac thing."
"I never said I was an amnesiac. I'm a nomad, adventurer, and otherwise quest-doer."
"Oh, a mamma's boy. Lovely."
I frowned at her. "No. An adventurer. Don't worry.I kill people too."
"If thats so, then why aren't you in the Assassins Guild?"
"No idea," I said. "Maybe I'm not bad enough."