The Tale of Sethyas Velas

Chapter two; Rise of the Black Hand

To make your oath and enter our service, the worthy must seek the Grandmaster, who by tradition lives in the unseen and unlooked-for corners of Vivec City between the blood of battle and the waters of life.

I returned to my apartment in Vivec. Thinking of the riddle that would lead me to this mysterious Grandmaster of the Morag Tong. Before entering my apartment though, I passed by her apartment again, the Dunmer Maiden that smiled sweetly at me a few weeks ago. Strangely enough as I looked at her door, wondering if she was home, it opened as though she read my mind. She was carrying a stack of books and smiled sweetly again as she saw me.

"Oh you're the new tenant right? I haven’t seen you in forever! I thought you moved out! Listen Elam Andas has told everyone that the Murderer was caught and executed, by you! Thank you! We were all so worried!" she said as she approached me.

"Um...no, no problem really, I."

She looked at me with a mischievous look. "I see the strong, silent type are you? Well if you’re so strong, would you mind giving me a hand with these books? I've got to return them to Jobasha in the Foreign Quarter."

I grabbed most of her load, and we started walking together, she introduced herself as Ilmeni Dren, I didn’t give her the recognition that she seemed to be looking for, but that seemed to please her. She told me of the Khajiit Jobasha's bookstore, and asked me of my background. I told her that I was a courier for the East Empire Company trying to earn some gold for my sister back in Cyrodiil.

She seemed to be pretty open to my story, and eventually broached the subject of slavery. Asking me what I thought of the armistices tolerance of the 'ancient Dunmer right'. I was actually shocked by the Idea, and professed my ignorance in it, as I had not yet actually encountered any slaves. But I did tell her that the idea did not appeal to me. I knew quite well what living in slavery was like.

She was quite amiable to my reaction and even gave me a kiss on the cheek as we exited the Bookstore. She then asked me to escort her back to her apartment, taking my arm in hers. As we parted company at her door, she waved goodbye at me saying that she might see me again sometime.

For the first time since I came to Vvardenfell. I felt good....hell, I felt great! I was drunk with some sort of feeling that I had never felt. And I let it was over me as I returned to my apartment.

Ilmeni. I whispered to myself.

But there were more important tasks ahead of me. I had an Assassin's Guild to join, and I read the book over and over, until I fell into a deep sleep.

I ate lunch with Ilmeni in a large domed area, we were in the middle of a large dirt field, and we made some banter that I couldn’t hear. But I was outside my body, watching the two of us. Then suddenly from nowhere a Man approached us dressed in heavy steel armor. His face was hidden behind a menacing steel mask, but I could still feel his hatred fuming through it. He unsheathed his sword, and charged us.

I than picked up a sword, and ran towards him, it seemed each step I took lasted a lifetime. The closer the Warrior and I got, the further apart we were, as though some unseen force was repelling us. Then finally, after what seemed like an eternity, we clashed swords. Neither one of us relenting to the other, until finally we pushed away from one another. The Warrior moved in slow motion, and I fiercely struck at him, and he fell.

Behind me, I heard Ilmeni scream. I turned, but she wasn’t there. I turned back to my fallen opponent, only to see the he was no longer there, instead Ilmeni lay there with a wound in her side lying in a pool of her own blood. She mouthed the word 'why' over and over. I was paralyzed to the ground and couldn’t move. But her blood shimmered. And the redness became overwhelming. I could see it, I became it. And the blood soaked through the ground, through the ceiling beneath, through the bricks, landing and dripping in the water below the canton.

I awoke with a start, once more. Horrified by the images of my dream. But the realization that followed struck me to full consciousness.

...between the blood of battle, and the waters of life....


The Arena. My next stop to confirm or deny my suspicions as to seek out the Grandmaster's location. I walked through the lower waistworks, seeking out the underworks, which was my first thought. But after an hour of walking through those sewers, even diving under the water, casting a simple water breathing spell I had picked up from Marayn Dren in Balmora. But it was to no avail. The Morag Tong had no base in the underworks.

Taking the ladder up to the waistworks again, I dried myself off as best I could. And was greeted by an Ordinator, the same guy I had had a hackle-lo with.

"Greetings! I am at your service! What brings you to this lonely post, Sethyas?" said the bored Ordinator.

"Well. Believe it or not, I seek the Morag Tong. I wish to join them."

The Ordinator's Helm nodded in approval. "Members of the Morag Tong enjoy an ancient and honorable trade here in Morrowind. I do see them from time to time at this post." he told me, but unable to give me any further explanation. I looked to the door marked as 'storage' behind him. I figured it was worth a try.

The door itself was well used. A clear sign that there was traffic through here. The second was that while the dust on the crates was thick, the floor was quite clean. But a sudden squeaking brought me to full awareness that I wasn’t alone. Suddenly the largest rat I've ever seen in my life attacked me, biting my foot with its large teeth. Satisfying my frustration with severing its spinal cord with my wakizashi, I cast a Restorative Spell, and common disease cure.

Turning my attention back to the matter at hand, I examined the room once more, and found three doors; one was unlocked with a bedroll, and some living supplies. No sign of a hidden base however. The next door was down was locked which I picked open easily enough, same thing however. Then I thought to myself, looking at the door to the opposite side of the room, 'let's see what's behind door number three.'

Sliding my probe along the edges of the door, I managed to let loose a cable that had the door trapped, then focusing my attention on the lock, my pick broke as I tried to figure the pins. This actually made me smile as I realized that somebody didn’t want just anybody in here.

Pulling out the Master's lockpick that I had picked off of a bandits corpse, the better quality of the metal gave me a better feel for the pins and the door opened. Examining the room, I nearly missed the trapdoor hidden behind a crate, realizing that this was a very high quality lock, I instead tried casted an alteration spell, it took a few tries, but the focused energies embraced the door, and the lock clicked open.

Letting myself in, I made my way down a corridor and up some steps. Greeted by the surprised stares of several Dunmer, and even an Orc, I stared back but then broke the silence. Pulling out my copy of the Black Glove, I commented that the hunter seeks the company of hunters.

A Dunmer Woman in Netch Leather armor approached me and asked my name and purpose. I told her of Hickim in Balmora, and the recruitment he offered. She smiled at this, and sent me upstairs to speak with the Grandmaster.

How to describe the first encounter with the Grandmaster of the Morag Tong? What many of his victims must surely have felt prior to there demise. Chilling dread. How can you explain the powerful presence that someone who has mastered himself and the art of death? Only that you know this is one not to be trifled with. I made a vow to myself then and there never to let my ego take control of me around this Dunmer.

He wore an ankle length wine-red robe, with leather pouches over both shoulders and around the waist with a large red jewel or glass of some sort right above the waist, with another one at the side of the belt, above two side pouches, another red cloth that hung down to the knees. Finishing his ensemble was a pair of black leather gloves.

Approaching the Mer, I respectfully looked down. And introduced myself, as Sethyas Velas, the Outlander Assassin, and sought to join the Morag Tong.

"So you have found me, and you request to join the Morag Tong. By merely finding me you have passed the first test. But there is not time to make pleasantries, Sethyas Velas. Taking life is a serious business. And Mephala demands murder. I will allow you to join as a Probationer." he said reaching into one of his many pouches and pulled out a key, and opened up a small chest on his desk, and pulled out a small rolled piece of paper.

"This is a Writ for the honorable execution of Feruran Oran, who is here in the Hlaalu Canton, my agents report that he is in the Elven Nations Corner club, as we speak." he looked at me very seriously before saying what came next.

"Do you accept this writ?" he said very slowly and seriously, enunciating each word clearly.

"I do." I said without hesitation, or stammering.

"Very well, your second test has begun; you have proven that you can seek the prey, now you must prove that you can kill in cold-blood in Mephala's Name. Go now, and know that if Feruran Oran still draws breath at sundown, you will most certainly not."


How can I explain the feeling of being sent out to kill a Mer for an initiation into an Assassin’s Guild? Exhilarating and terrifying all in the same breath. I’m no stranger to death, but this was a little different than what I was used to. Killing a Man in public wasn’t exactly my forte. I was going to have to get creative. After all, my orders were to execute Feruran, in any manner I saw fit. Even the writ had a macabre little tone to it.

The afore-mentioned personage has been marked for honorable execution in accordance to the lawful tradition and practice of the Morag Tong Guild. The Bearer of this non-disputable document has official sanctioned license to kill the afore-mentioned personage.

I made my way into the club, and studied my mark carefully. He merely sat to himself and kept ordering drinks, dressed in dark clothing, and wielding a dai-katana on his back. I retreated back up into the serving area, and ‘accidentally ‘bumped into the waitress on her way to serve him his latest round. I of course managed to grab his Sujamma before it hit the ground. Utilizing the poison spell that I had learned in the mages guild, I put enough of the vile spell in his drink to choke a guar. The waitress was simply happy to not have to get another drink, and did not notice the swirling green vapors coalescing with his dark drink.

I waited for a few minutes in the upstairs until I heard an audible thump followed by screaming. I ran down both to maintain my cover of seeming to be an innocent bystander, as well as to confirm the kill.

Judging by the horrible twisted grimace on his face, and sheer amount of bile surrounding him, it wasn’t hard to confirm that he was dead. Slipping out in the midst of the chaos, I quietly exited the Hlaalu Canton and returned to the Grandmaster’s Chambers.

The dark-spirited Dunmer greeted me coolly, simply asking if Feruren had met his fate.
I said yes, and he actually smiled and gave me a slight nod. Me simply confirming what he already knew.

“Now we have time for pleasantries, I am Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu, and welcome to the service of Mephala’s Black Hands, Blind Thrall Sethyas Velas. You can ask me, or any other Master for Writs of execution, if you’d like, you can start right away. But I’m sure you’d prefer to get to know your new brothers and sisters. And if you’d like we have an optional uniform of sorts. Traditionally, Agents of the Morag Tong have worn this shirt and leather pants.” He said as he brought out a pair of black leather pants and a shirt the had, a flowing collar and a similar red bauble decoration. He also handed me a mask its cloth and leather combination was made for concealing one’s Identity and traveling the Ashlands.



. I now wore the Morag Tong clothes, along with the netch cuirass and boots, and I now wore leather bracers instead of the gauntlets. I took a moment to reflect on all that had transpired, and I felt a bit colder for my experience. I had always held a mental block between myself and my trade, now with this latest execution I was beginning to feel it wear away. It had always been the love for my sister that held me at bay. But I would see this thing through. I also began to worry about maintaining stealth on these quests.

Fortunately however, Taros Dral had a little side mission for me it turned out….

While speaking with my new Brothers and Sisters, one of the Assassins maintained an aloof distance from me, while still giving me the impression that he wanted to speak with me, alone.

As I finished a small talk conversation with Ulmesi about how she came into the Brotherhood, I approached a small shrine and examined its markings, ‘Altar of Mephala’ it said.

The Assassin approached me from behind, and began speaking in a hushed tone. “It is beautiful is it not? The Black Hands of Mephala can reach through Oblivion into Mundus, and look over and guide us.”

I nodded and whispered my name to him, he responded in kind and told me his name was Taros Dral, both Assassin, and priest to Mephala, he continued with a small story about how Mephala had brought to his attention about a fellow brother living in Balmora who had been performing unsanctioned murders, that is, killing victims without a writ. Writs were sacred and honorable, the very basis of the Modern House Wars system. Normally, the matter would be handled with a few Morag Tong Agents visiting him in the middle of the night, however, Balyn Omavel’s brother was a ranking, and very influential member of the guild, requiring that the matter required be handled with extreme sensitivity.

“And so, when I saw the new blood enter through our doors, I knew you would be the one to fulfill this need. First you have proven that you are capable of infiltrating his house, second, he does not know you, and will not suspect that we know anything. If you help me however, none must know of this, only yourself and I, not even the Grandmaster must know before the time is right. Do you accept?” he asked with his low, raspy tone.

I nodded slightly maintaining the pretense that we were merely having small talk. He smiled and pulled out a small pouch, palming it and pretending to clasp my hand, and bade me farewell in a normal tone.

“Then farewell, my newest brother, I am certain you will do well. Mephala be with you.” He said than returning to his hushed quiet tone.

“These are specially treated Bittergreen Petals, you must not openly kill him. It acts swiftly, as should you, and as I said before. Mephala be with you.”

I left under the pretense that I was retiring for the evening after having my nerves shot by today’s Writ. I in fact wasted no time heading directly for the Silt Strider. The request of Taros Dral’s was shady to say the least, performing an Assassination on a fellow guild member on my first day in the Morag Tong, but I have a way of knowing when people have an ulterior motive, Taros only wanted Balyn Omavel removed in a quiet fashion, whether he hallucinated his message from Mephala would remain to be seen.

I arrived late in the evening in Balmora, as the rising moons of Secunda and Masser cast an eerie glow upon the town, complemented by the long, dull howl of the Silt Strider. I walked around town quietly asking where a certain Balyn Omavel lived. Almost ironically, I found out that he was Caius’s next door neighbor. As I watched his door from a well-hidden vantage point behind some crates, I considered what the best way to go about poisoning the rogue assassin might be. Watching him step out of his door, and walk to a spot underneath a torch on a nearby building. He was clearly waiting for someone, perhaps even his latest client. Realizing that he would immediately recognize my Morag Tong clothes, approaching him would be out of the question.


Instead deciding to skulk around the long way, I approached Caius’, front door and took the stairs going up towards his roof, figuring that I might be able to hop over his roof to Balyn’s and enter hopefully unseen. However I was fortunate to find out that Balyn had a trapdoor on his roof, a unique feature likely added due to the architecture of his house. Not one to look a gift guar on the tail, I lay down and looked at Balyn still waiting off in the distance, this time talking to a shadowy figure whom I could not make out. Realizing that time was of the essence now, I quickly pulled out my pick and quickly set upon the lock, the pressure causing me to miss a few pins, but I still managed to click the lock open in less than thirty seconds.

Grabbing a quick glance to Balyn and his associate, I silently lifted the door and snuck down the ladder into his house. Once inside, I looked around for the opportunity to present itself, and found that he had left his dinner cooking on a small cauldron. Smiling as I dumped the contents of the pouch that Taros had handed me as we parted, I stirred his dinner as he spoke outside.

After a few seconds, I could hear footsteps leading up the stairway to his front door, realizing that his meeting was likely over, adrenaline and fear forced me to let go of the ladle, and run to the ladder, running up the slats, I forced the roof door open, and jumped as quietly as I could back onto the roof. Quietly closing the door, I heard his front door open as soon as the roof door closed.

I lay there for several minutes, letting my beating heart slow down, as I breathed in heavily, and let the cool night air dry my cold sweat. In spite of the reason that I had paid this Mer a visit tonight, I actually enjoyed the thrill of the whole experience. But I did feel a small twinge of guilt knowing that Balyn Omavel was now eating his last meal, and that I was the cause of it. I put the thought out of my mind as I put my ear to the door, and I could hear a clink of spoon against plate, and the dull thud of a tankard being placed down on a table. He was eating indeed, and I listened for a few minutes more until I heard the expected sounds. First a loud gurgling followed by a chair landing on its back, and the sound of a Table being kicked over and a loud crash of dishware and utensils hitting the walls and floor.


I lifted the door open a crack, and Balyn’s lifeless red eyes stared back at me. I was neither mortified nor pleased by the sight. I simply confirmed the kill, and hopped back down from the roof to return to Vivec.


Arriving in the early morning hours, I walked through the cantons and slipped into the Vivec Chapter of the Morag Tong, looking around to make sure that I wasn’t followed. And I waited by the Altar for Taros to awaken.

Half an hour later, he approached me, whispering once more.

“Is it done? Has the traitor met with his fate?”

I smiled and nodded, and whispered back asking how we proceeded from here. He explained that he would handle the matter from here on out, and I was to remain silent. However, Mephala wished to speak with me, and reward me for acting as her Black Hand.

With a confused expression on my face as to why a Daedra Lord would wish anything with me, much less that a God would wish something as trivial as a conversation with me, I nonetheless approached her alter and knelt, and as I concentrated on an otherworldly location, I was drawn into a vision, halfway between my world and hers. She appeared as a vivacious human woman, wearing a sleek black dress, with a large shock of white hair, while still appearing with a young face.

”Ah, so at last we meet, do not doubt Taros’ loyalty to me. You have served me well, and you will continue to do so. There are some things that must be done to preserve the order, and I wait for this business to come to light, I look forward to it. Take this ring mortal, through the brightest day it will carry you with speed and with stealth. Leave me now.”

I came back into my own body with a strange sensation of peace. I also felt something in my hand that wasn’t there before I had knelt. A beautifully jeweled ring that bore a strong enchantment with it.

Showing the ring to Taros, he smiled as told me that I had been blessed with the Ring of Khajiit, a ring that could bear its wearer with the abilities of Invisibility and fleetness of foot. It is indeed a fine ring, and well suited to the Morag Tong. I proudly bore it upon my finger; stealth would no longer be a major concern. Or outrunning my prey for that matter.

Now I want to take a minute here and perhaps explain myself. Or mentally justify being a new cold-blooded killer. The reason I joined the Morag Tong wasn’t merely because I was an Assassin, true I needed gold, and I’ve sold my honor for profit before. No, there was a less linear answer. The Morag Tong isn’t merely Assassins for Hire; they are in fact rigidly defined by a set of rules and a code of honor. Sounds like an odd mix perhaps. Honor in an Assassin? It is based on the Great Houses system of Morrowind, rather than a Noble calling upon his subjects to serve in a War that would ruin the economy and land, that same Noble may call upon and hire the Morag Tong to terminate his enemies. Indeed the Morag Tong is forbidden from ever killing a person other than the mark of a writ, or in self-defense, anything else is irresponsible, and incompetent. So in my own little way, perhaps I thought I was a noble assassin by joining. Time will tell.

I groggily approached the Grandmaster, and informed him of my readiness for beginning my duties. Eno Hlaalu made no smile or comment. He merely reached into his pouch once more and unlocked his chest. Considering several pieces of rolled papers once more, he pulled out also a large leather bound book and began to make several notes. Ah, Record Keeping, at least when it’s for assassination I suppose it’s interesting.


“Toris Saren has been targeted for assassination. He resides in his Manor here in Vivec, and unexpectedly shall Mephala’s Wrath befall him. I assign the Writ to you, Blind Thrall.” He rasped out.

I took the writ, and turned to leave as he spoke aloud once more.

“Odaishah Yasamibaal, a renegade Ashlander is squatting on a Telvanni territory, and we are being well paid to see to it that he never draws breath again. Go now, swiftness and accuracy to you.”

I took my second writ, and waited a few seconds to see if he would speak as I turned once more, the impatient look he gave me told me that he would not, bowing in respect to my new Master I walked out to the gondolier.

I reflected on which Target I would first visit. Odaishah was certainly showing to be the most challenging one, as he was in distant territory and not easily accessible either. The mapped parchment that accompanied his writ did show that Tel Aruhn was relatively close, and I could certainly cast a water walking spell. So I decided to get the hard one out of the way first. Toris Saren, though perhaps no more than two cantons away from, had earned at least a few more days time to draw breath based on my simple decision.

I dropped by my apartment to prepare myself some potions and poisons, as well as pack supplies for my journey. On my way out, I decided to drop by Ilmeni’s place to bid a farewell. Though I knew that perhaps it was a strange thing to do as we were barely associated. I knocked on her door anyways, and as she opened the door, she smiled and told me to come in and have a seat. We ate lunch together and I told her that I would be out of town for a few days on business. She quietly nodded and asked if it was a courier job, and I nodded. I did not wish to lie to her, but the Morag Tong demanded secrecy, the Blades demanded secrecy. As much as I wished to tell her everything, I could not. At least not yet.

As I stood at her doorway to say goodbye, she kissed me sweetly. This time on the lips and I once again found myself stunned. She laughed as I stared dumbfounded at her, and she pushed me out the door, telling me to go good-naturedly. She certainly was not like the other Dunmer in Vvardenfell.

Putting her aside in my mind, I knew that I could not afford to be distracted on my mission. And two days later I arrived in Tel Aruhn, disembarking from the ship as it entered port. Consulting my map and the setting sun, I set about southwest along Zafirbel Bay, arriving two hours later to a sole yurt along the edge of a peninsula.

I spent the night on the beach waiting for my opportunity, anyone else may have simply gone in and stabbed him while he slept, but I was Morag Tong, and I had to be sure of whom I was killing. When morning arose, I again watched and waited from a clearing of trees, waiting for him to come out, I did not have to wait long. Grabbing my Wakizashi, and wounding myself on my arm, I let the blood dry as it dripped down my arm, then walked towards Odaishah now tending to a small campfire.

“Hail. I am a Hunter and have been wounded while hunting for kagouti hides, have you any potions or medicines I might trade with you?” I asked the Ashlander.

He looked me over carefully, and in some broken Dunmeri bade me come into his yurt.
He carefully tended to my wound, washing away the blood, and setting the wound.

“This wound not animal. This blade. Who you fight?” the Ashlander asked me.

“A rival hunter. We had an argument over whose kill a Kagouti was. I won.”

“Ah, you like me and the Telvanni House Dunmer here, Odaishah has lived here many years and now they say this land is theirs. They will not share. They no wish peace with me. I want only to be left alone.”

At the word ‘Odaishah’ I cocked my head. And asked him if that was his name, he smiled and nodded and said his whole name was “Odaishah Yasamibaal’ I extended my hand and as I opened my mouth to speak, I instead pulled his hand above mine, forcing him to side step, and with my left hand, I unsheathed my Wakizashi, point down, and forced the tip into his side. He yelled in pain and blood pooled from his side. Instead of running or falling, or even begging for death. He picked up his Chitin War Axe off the table, and faced me with a courage that I will always respect.

“You TELVANNI?” he yelled, angry, and perhaps in shock/=.

“No. Morag Tong.” I said as his eyes grew wide with fear and I disappeared before his
eyes.

He looked wildly about the room trying to find me, as utensils flew off the table, and sacks were crushed by invisible feet, my attempts to confuse him were well placed, and I finally snuck up behind him and placed the blades edge on his back, directly behind his heart.

“I’m sorry; I wish there were another way. But I promise you that I will bring you the peace you desire.” I whispered into his ear as I pushed the blade through his back and his body went limp in my hands.

Sometimes, we can sympathize with our marks. Death comes to us all, not one of us can escape it nets. Odaishah was a good man, and I had preyed upon his sympathy, and stood face to face to his courage. He had wanted only peace with the Telvanni and now it would seem he had found it some other way. Sometimes I do hate living in a world where compassion can be a weakness. But as an Assassin, I couldn’t afford to have any, but I still buried Odaishah’s body and whispered a few prayers for him and his ancestors.

My return to Vivec City was met with a harsh storm. As harsh as my own storm that blew through my mind and heart. Each crack of thunder had the suddenness and impact of my own thoughts of Ilmeni and Setsuna.

I let the cool rain wash away my guilt of the murder of Odaishah, as I gazed upwards to the doors of the Redoran Canton Plaza, inside the plaza was Saren Manor. The house of my next target, Toris Saren, a rich, ranking noble of the Great House Redoran. Also known as the warrior house, this gentleman would not be so easy to kill it would seem, and I would have to once again get creative.

Donning my netch leather cuirass to hide the Morag Tong shirt, and putting my leather satchel in a prominent position to give the impression of a courier, I put on the finishing touch, the Colovian fur helm I had found on the fallen body of Tarhiel when I first trekked from Seyda Neen to Balmora. No one could take me seriously with this hat on, and looking like an idiot was quite the point. I even chuckled at myself when I looked at my relection.

Knocking on the door of Saren Manor, I was greeted by an elderly Dunmer Maiden whose expression and tone told me she was doing her best to stifle her laughter. Exactly the reaction I was going for.

“Can,--can I help you?’ she asked’

“Sure…here to give some papers to a Serjo Toris Saren, from Bolvyn Venim, ma’am!” I said in a cheerful tone.

“Bolvyn Venim? The Archmaster? Oh my yes! Please, please come in!” she said apparently excited to have a message from the Archmaster of House Redoran. Personally I had yet to even step foot in Ald’Ruhn, but I had been reading the local guides to the important cities during my travels on the silt striders and ships.

She directed me to the lower quarters of the Manor where Toris Saren sat at his desk going over paperwork of his own. She told him that a courier was here to deliver a message from the Archmaster and he dismissingly waved her away making an impatient comment about already having enough paperwork as is.

Looking at me did nothing to improve his mood, and he even made snide comment about my hat making me look like a fool. And he impatiently stared at me as I shuffled about my satchel for a piece of paper that could serve my purpose of distraction. Finding nothing else, I handed him the rolled writ that gave me the legal authority to end his life.

He impatiently sat there and fiddled with the string that held the paper rolled; in the meantime I stared at the silver dagger on his bureau, and decided that the shorter blade would be more effective in his seated position. Quietly picking up the blade and positioning myself behind him, I waited until he had finally opened the Writ and as he suddenly paid more attention to its lethal message, I grabbed his mouth with my left hand and brought the dagger to his throat with my right. As I slid the edge along his throat I told him that he shouldn’t have insulted the hat.

Grabbing my Writ from his lifeless hands, I pulled off the Colovian fur helm and placed it on his head, sometimes you respect your marks, and sometimes you take pleasure in killing another arrogant honored user that annoys you.

Taking the back door out of the manor, I silently slipped through the human traffic, pulling off leather cuirass and exiting back out into the pouring rain. I returned to my apartment, and waited a few hours until the rain finally let up, and headed over to the Arena Canton once more, entering I nodded amiably to Taros whom returned my nod with a slight smile.

Approaching the Grandmaster I reported my success in the Assassination of my designated targets. He gave me an acknowledging nod and opened a large chest at the foot of his bed, pulling out the large leather-bound tome once more, and after a few minutes of making some entries and notes, he handed me two bags of gold. They equaled one thousand drakes in all, 500 for each murder.

“An excellent beginning for you, Blind Thrall. Or shall I say, Thrall Velas? Yes. You have earned a promotion for your loyalty and obedience to the Morag Tong. But hear me out on this one Thrall. Your assassinations will begin to prove more challenging and your skill and technique must be up to the challenge. Seek out our trainers and Masters in the other Guildhalls, they will test and train you to perfect your deadly art. Leave me until the morning, or seek out one of the other Masters.” He said with a calm expression.

As I turned to leave he called me once more, Man that was getting annoying.

“Oh, by the way.” Eno said looking at the Ring of Khajiit on my finger. “Nice work with Balyn Omavel. The only authority higher than mine is the Word of Mephala, as you have pleased her, so you have me ...Black Hand of Mephala."

I smiled at him and the nickname. It fit my character and my Tattoo. Black Hand.


Rising with the morning sun, the air was still cool from the evening before, and I walked briskly through the Canton’s of Vivec, to the Mages Guild in the Foreign Quarter. Taking the guild guide to Ald’Ruhn. There I sought out Master Goren Andarys, known for his spiritual guidance in the Tong and mastery of hand to hand combat.

Greeted warmly by a Nord dressed in black clothing I spoke to him for a few minutes of my recent membership, and did make a comment that it was strange for a Nord to be a member of a very traditional Dunmeri Society, to which he bellowed out a hearty laugh.

Then an aged and extremely calm Dunmer Man, also dressed in dark clothes greeted me and asked me to follow him into a training room. Introducing himself as Goren Andarys, Master of the Ald’Ruhn Chapter of the Morag Tong.

“…and so the Grandmaster has sent you to me to seek additional training. Very well. I will begin with an examination of your ability to remain in shadow. This is the core of all our disciplines. Begin now.” He stated in a very calm, but raspy Dunmer tone.

I looked at him incredulously, and didn’t know what he wanted me to do exactly. So I figured I would showboat, and used the ring of Khajiit to make myself invisible and did my best to walk around him slowly. With a speed I had never seen before, he kick-swept my feet and as I fell on my back and the spell wore off, he had a dagger to my throat.

“Dependence on anything but pure skill is a weakness; deceit is also a form of shadow. Had you instead tried to present yourself in a convincing manner as someone other then my life’s end, I would now be in your position.” He said sheathing his weapon and helping me to my feet.

“I know that, how do you think I killed Toris Saren?”

“I know how you killed him, and handing him his own writ was incompetent, you must plan out every movement of your kill before you even meet them face to face. The wise tactician knows that the battle is won even before it is fought if all things are in accordance with the proper way.”

He continued on with his lecture, and preached the finer points of controlling ones self, ones feelings, as a means to better control others. He pointed out that it was self contradictory, but when we understand our own weaknesses we become stronger than those that do not. And as he pointed out, the art of shadow was mostly in the mind, not in the body. A very spiritual man, who brought the mysteries of the unseen world into a practical form. And combining spirituality with the art of murder was a strange concept to me indeed.

To further my education, Master Andarys began teaching me in the martial arts. For several days he made me throw precise punches and kicks, and as it turned out, I was a quick study. Already naturally swift and agile from years of firing a bow and swinging short blades, within a week I had acquired enough skill to rival even my teacher, and in an act of ingenuity that even Goren praised, I had combined touch level destruction spells with successful blows landed on an opponent. When I landed a punch on someone I could simultaneously cast poison, fire, frost, shock, poison, or any other spell I had in my repertoire. Goren himself taking it a step further taught me a simple spell called the “Five Fingers of Pain.” Combining fire, frost, shock, poison, and health damage in one shot. It would later become my signature finishing move.

Dubbing my new fighting style “Black Hands of Mephala Style.” Goren gave me a parting gift, a heavy object wrapped in cloth, I unfolded it and my eyes grew wide with surprise.

“This is a Daedric Dagger, passed down from Master to student for generation, not quite the elegance of a wakizashi, but one of the most deadly weapons an Assassin will ever hold. It has been a pleasure, and I know that I will see you soon for additional training. I see great potential in you Sethyas; I know you will do the Tong proud. Now go, and perform more writs in Mephala’s black name.”

Departing from Ald’ruhn, on the silt strider it was time for my weekly report with Caius, so before I returned to Vivec, I dropped off in Balmora and knocked on his door, the time was late in the evening, but I knew I had to do something.

Opening the door Caius nodded amiably at me and asked how I had been. I spoke with him for a few minutes before I lashed out at him unexpectedly. Back sweeping his feet and unleashing my dagger to his throat, all before he even had time to blink, I smiled triumphantly.

“Now you’re not the only one who can put people on their backs, Caius!” I said laughingly, and then helping him to his feet. I promptly apologized and Caius seemed to take it rather well, even complementing me on my speed and skill. Followed by two quick jabs to my midsection, had me out of wind, and twisting my hand behind my back he laughed out loud as well.

“You may have caught me by surprise, boy, but let’s not forget that I’ve been doing this longer than you, and you will show me respect. Age and treachery will always defeat youth and hubris. Now get outta here, and Ill talk to you next week.” He said in a bemused tone.

This time, I wasn’t angry. And I did even respect the old man some more.


My return to Vivec was under the cover of Secunda and Masser. I gazed at the hollow sky as the gondolier made his way to the Saint Delyn Canton, admiring the stars. Hearing my name being called from the ledge as I arrived, Ilmeni waved to me excitedly. I smiled and waved back. She ran down to the small dock and hugged me as I got off the gondola, the smell of Stone flower perfume intoxicating my senses.

“I’ve been worried sick about you! How was your latest trip?” she asked me with a smile.

“It was good, just a simple inter-house message to Ald’Ruhn. Nice place actually, if you don’t mind ash being blown in your face. But the locals seem nice enough to a foreigner like me. How have you been these last few weeks?”

She considered what she was going to say before looking at me. “Not bad, there was some…..family business I had to deal with up in Ald Velothi, and it looks like I may have to go back.”

I inquired as to what business, and she wouldn’t say anything more. It was strange that I felt like I wasn’t the only one with secrets. Putting it out of my mind, I ate a late supper with her, and we stayed up late into the evening drinking Shein laughing and talking. As dawn broke through her windows, I groggily got up and made my way to her door, once more she kissed me, and feeling brave from the alcohol I kissed her back. Pushing me outside playfully, I mockingly said I wanted more, to which she leaned against her door and laughed, and closed it.

Waking several hours later to a dull ache in my head and a strong thirst on my tongue, I was nonetheless feeling good. I bathed and donned my Morag Tong clothes and made my way once more to the Arena Canton.

The Grandmaster nodded at me with his usual expressionless countenance, asking me if I had come for more writs, I nodded adjusting my leather bracers, and straightening my new Daedric Dagger.

“Excellent, Blind Thrall. I have here two new writs. One is for Sarayn Sadus, an outlaw who has fled from Vivec, and from Justice. He hides from the Ordinators in Zaintirari, not far from where you honorably murdered Odaishah Yasamibaal, seek out the Ashlander Camp of the Erabenimsun Tribe. Search northwest of here for a bandit cave. Be forewarned that his band of followers will seek to protect him. Show him that he cannot escape the hands of Mephala.”

I nodded, making a note of the location on my map. It looked like I would be passing through Ashlands territory, meaning my mask would be essential to the trek. The Grandmaster continued.

“This one you may find a bit more challenging. For you must not kill one, but two. Ethal Seloth and Idroso Vendu. Know that these two are Telvanni, therefore deadly mages. They are also murderers, since this was done within their House, the Duke will do nothing. So we are being well-paid by their families to ensure Justice. They were last spotted in the Temporary Housing in the Telvanni Canton here in Vivec. Swiftness and Accuracy to you. Go now.”

I accepted the Writs, and placed them within my satchel. And I emerged in the late afternoon to the gondola and made my way to the docks. This time I wasn’t going to Sadrith Mora first because I wanted to get the harder Writ out of the way, it was because I was hangover and in no shape to take on two mages, Mephala help them if they were battle mages.

Arriving in the late hours of the next day, I immediately set upon my task of seeking Sarayn Sadus. I traveled east along Zafirbel bay for two hours before I finally reached a large setting of yurts. Donning my Morag Tong mask, I studied the woman carefully sewing clothes and laughing among themselves, while men returned from the Ashlands with animal skins and meats. Openly entering the camp, I was met with hostile stares, and Two Dunmer Men approached me wearing Chitin armor, Spears in hand.

“We will warn you but once, leave here now.” They threatened in a harsh raspy tone.

I merely stood my ground and pulled out a small pouch of drakes, throwing it on the ground before me, and uttered one word.

“Zaintirari.”

One of the Mer knelt down and picked it up; counting the coins he looked to the other one and shrugged, speaking a tongue I did not recognize.

“A Man cam through here a few days ago had more men with him. He demanded services and was disrespectful, but they were all wearing the Iron skins of the Imperial devils, and had big swords. They went to a cave there.” He pointed northwest towards some steam pits and dead trees.

“That place is called Zaintirari.”

I nodded and unslung my bow, which caused the Ashlanders to flinch, but they relaxed as I walked away and headed to my mark.

After a few minutes, I found the old weathered door to the cave. And silently crept in, keeping an eye out for any guards that might be posted, I didn’t wait long as I saw a Dunmer in steel armor drinking from a bottle and smoking a hackle-lo. Keeping to the Shadows, I nocked an arrow and aimed for his most vulnerable spot, his throat. The arrow whistled through the dark cavern meeting its target with a soft squish. The clang of steel armor hitting stone was audible enough to warn any others, as I heard footsteps and yelling.

A head popped out from the bend in the passageway, and rather then check on his friend, the face saw the arrow sticking up into the air and ran off. I winced as I thought that I would have to move to combat tactics.

Pressing on, I saw a wooden stairway that lead to a lower part of the cave. Left unguarded, I realized I was headed into a trap. Using the Ring of Khajiit, I jumped down the small ledge, landing silently rather than risk making creaking noises with the stairs.

Then I saw three of them, all Dunmer men dressed in Steel and leather armor. One had a huge claymore, and the other two broadswords. They prepared themselves to massacre anything that moved. Plus I didn’t know which one was Saryn. They all had to die.

Sneaking up behind one, I made sure that the other two were facing the opposite direction, moving with my enhanced speed, the invisibility dispersed as I quickly grabbed my victims mouth and with the deadly Daedric dagger, slit his throat, quietly leaving his corpse behind the other two, and crept back into the shadows.

The yell of the gruesome discovery left the other two Mer in fear. As they had no Idea what had just happened.

“What do we do? S’like the shadows themselves killed him!”

“Keep calm; this is obviously an Assassin of some sort. He can’t hide forever, soon as he makes a move we’ll get him! We just have o keep an eye on each other, then we’ll get Sarayn, and get outta here!”

I smiled as he let me know that Sarayn was none of them, and that the hunt would continue after their deaths. Nocking an arrow once more, I aimed not for them, but for the feet of Mer holding the claymore. As the arrow rattled at his feet, he fearfully swung his huge sword around, meeting an unintended target with the blades edge.

He cried out in shock as he realized that he had beheaded his own friend. Saving me the trouble. As Goren had told me “Shadow is the art of deception, fear can always be used against your foe. Use this to your advantage, and when the moment is right make him his own worst enemy.”

As he dropped the blade in his confusion, I sheathed the dagger, and ran quietly towards him, taking him down with a spinning back kick to the neck. He landed dazed face first with a loud grunt, balling my fists; I then quickly punched his kidneys through the openings on the side of his steel cuirass. Then grabbing his fallen friend’s broadsword I punched through his armor piercing his heart. Taking a moment to collect myself from the excitement, I looked around at the torch lit caverns, and saw another door at the base of the stone wall.

Quietly approaching it, I could hear footsteps pacing, and smelled lit hackle-lo. The signs of a nervous man. I considered opening the door, but my instincts told me that this was a trap. Pulling out a probe instead, I moved it along the sides of the door, until I felt a cable and then loosened it. Using my ring once more, I let the door creak open slowly. Waiting for my mark to come out.

“Guys? What’s going on? Where is everyone? Who’s…..By Azura!!!” he yelled at the last statement as he saw the bodies of his band lying on the floor.

He unsheathed his sword and looked around preparing to fight he knew not what, his eyes encompassing the room intensely.

“Come out coward! Face me with honor!”

“Honor?” I called out from my invisibility, my voice echoing off the walls, so that he couldn’t tell where it came from, his head rapidly moving around attempting to discern my location.

“What sort of Mer claims to have honor when he is an outlaw? A murderer? And just plain has no manners when he asks things of others? I was once like you. You had every day to change, to atone for your sins. But now, it’s too late.”

“You’re no match for me Morag Tong puppy!” He yelled to the ceiling raising his sword in anger.

The invisibility wore off, though his back was to me, and I was crouched next to the door that he exited. I quietly sneaked up behind him and as I grabbed his mouth, I casted paralysis on him, leaving him rigid, but still able to hear.

“I don’t have to be, I just have to outthink you.” I said as the Daedric dagger slid along his throat.

A week had passed since my writ against Sarayn Sadus. I had left with a large sack of armor and weapons, almost too heavy to carry but I had managed. I had left it with the Erabenimsun for there directions. The men were more then happy to accept my gift and even as I left with a flurry of thank you’s and waves, one Mer whistled and threw my sack of gold back to me. I hoped that at least should I ever have to return they might not view me as an enemy.

Now I had returned to Vivec, carefully studying my targets in the Telvanni Canton. Ethal Seloth and Idroso Vendu were both on my list, and from what I had gathered they were indeed powerful mages. Able to get a feel of there armaments and speed from there comings and goings between there temporary housing and taverns, I was surprised to see that they carried no weapons at all. Nor did I hear the creak or clang of any armor. This was the sign of either commoners, or mages that held extreme confidence in their abilities, and to preserve my own life, I was betting on the latter.

Furthermore, investigating there housing left me with yet another obstacle. Two heavily armored occupants, one Orc and one Redguard both with wicked looking battle-axes would more then likely be willing to join in any fight that broke out, leaving stealth as an only alternative, but that would be next to impossible in such close quarters. I reviewed my own weapons and spells and realized I would need two new additions for this project.

First I visited the smith Alusaron in the foreign quarter, and bought a steel katana, until now I had only used basic spells and weapons that were quick, but did not pack a quick punch. Wielding the blade and getting a few quick moves with it, it was heavier than what I was used to as the principles of short blade were different than that of the long blade, relying on strength rather than speed, for the katana. But willing to shell out the gold, a warrior at the fighter’s guild was willing to teach me some of his insights.

The second thing I needed was a new spell. A very strange one at that, as Mavel Romari at the Mages Guild commented. She looked at me strangely as I told her what my needs were, but once more, shelling out some gold got me what I needed.

Now I waited for the right moment, and the right moment was after Ethal and Idroso returned from there dinner at the Lizards Head, I knew they had been drinking and that would give me somewhat more of an advantage in the coming fight.

Entering the housing a minute after they did, Goren Andarys’ words recited themselves in my mind.

There will be times when stealth alone cannot overcome your enemy, and you must face them in the light. But this does not mean that you cannot control them, if your are weak, pretend that you are strong…

I opened the door, dressed fully in my Morag Tong clothes, mask, and netch leather armor. I brandished my katana as the four people gazed upon me.

“Ethal Seloth! Idroso Vendu! You have been marked for execution in the name of the Morag Tong! Time for redemption!” I stated clearly and loudly.

The whimpers of fear were followed by flashes of light and energy, as the mages marked for legal assassination casted some sort of alteration spell on me that held me in place; it felt as though my feet were a ton each.

“Not today, assassin!” laughed one of the mages as they prepared to cast their next spell on me.

Goren spoke once more …and when you are strong, pretend that you are weak.

I spoke aloud in fear asking them to spare me, as I prepared to cast a spell of my own. But now Malven spoke aloud in my mind.

“This is a rather strange spell, Sethyas. I mean only a master of Mysticism can cast a reflect spell this strong for anything more than ten seconds.”

And I recalled my response. “Well, All I need is one second. Teach me that.”

And then the most powerful thing that Goren had told me.

There is a moment, one moment in every battle, in every fight, when there is an opportunity to turn your enemy’s greatest strength into his crushing weakness. This is the moment that every tactician that has ever lived, and that has yet to come, lives for.

Back in the present moment, I could sense the powerful energy of two casters preparing destruction spells that would engulf and destroy me. Exactly as I had planned. And now, the gamble I was prepared to take with my very life had paid off. For a spilt second, a spell of reflect engulfed my body as the energies of the two mages reached me. The energies of the three different spells seemed to intermingle for an eternity as the spells returned to their casters.

Lighting and frost filled the room as the anguished screams of the once overconfident mages joined the torrent of light and wind. Lying broken on the ground, I approached each mage and ceremoniously decapitated both with my katana.

Looking over to the Orc and Redguard, they clearly showed no desire to fight, after witnessing what took place. I sheathed the katana, and took my leave. It was a strange feeling having come that close to death, anyone on the outside of my perspective might have seen an incredible sight, but to me it was a fifty-fifty chance, death would have come for either of us as I entered that room, I reminded myself to remember this writ above all others to remind myself the importance of humility. Arrogance only leads to carelessness, which leads to ones, own demise.

Returning to the Grandmaster, Eno looked at me with a slight bit more emotion this time then my previous writs as he handed me 1500 gold pieces.

“Goren has taught you well, Sethyas. My agents have reported how you cleverly disposed of Ethal and Idroso. You have well earned the rank of White Thrall. Go and rest now. Eat, drink, make love, enjoy this day for tomorrow we may die. That is the truth that we as assassins, as the messengers of death know and experience more so than any other profession.” He said both solemnly and proudly to me.

Awaking to knocking on my door the next morning I groggily stumbled out of bed, and opened it, Ilmeni’s forlorn countenance greeting me.

“’mornin’, c’mon in. Lemme get a shirt on.” I mumbled out still half-asleep, she came in looking down at the floor.

“Have you heard about the Telvanni Canton executions? A Morag Tong Agent killed two powerful mages; it seems that even the Ordinators were impressed.” She said with a strange tone in her voice.

“Naw, I just got home last night and went to bed right away. Why do you bring it up?”

“I don’t know, it’s just that after you started living here, strange things have started happening. And I can’t help but think it’s you.”

In no mood for the discussion I reached into my closet and pulled out my regular flax weave shirt, careful to hide the Morag tong style shirt.

“So, what, you think I’m an assassin that goes around killing people for money? Next thing you’re going to accuse me of being a member of Imperial Intelligence.” I said half smiling pulling my shirt over my head.

She actually laughed at that, and put her hand on my chest. I hated lying to her face like that, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want the ones I cared about to know what I did. It was hard to reconcile having a normal life with a dark profession. Even if I was capable of cold-blooded killing, I still respected the lives of the ones I cared about.

“Hey listen, I have to go to Balmora today. I have to check up with a friend and see if I’ve received a letter from Setsuna yet. But I’ll be back tonight; maybe we could go over to the Lizards head or something.”

“How about I go with you? I don’t have anything to do today.”

“That’s…not a good idea. I would love the company to be honest, but my friend is the….paranoid type, doesn’t take to kindly to strangers if you know what I mean.” I said solemnly.

She was visibly disappointed, and obviously didn’t like being put out. She coldly said ‘Fine, I’ll see you tonight.” And stormed out of my Saint Delyn apartment.

I sat down on my bed and sighed. Sometimes I was my own worst enemy. I had to see if Setsuna was all right though. I couldn’t afford to let my own dealings make me forget about her or her situation.

I arrived in Balmora three hours later bounding down the strider port running off to Rithleen’s house, knocking on her door frantically.
She opened the door and looked around with an annoyed glance at me, waving for me o come in.

“Be more careful when you come in. People can’t know about our connections, we’re spies remember. Anyways, I can guess why you’re here. And I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Fear and sorrow shot through my stomach in an instant nearly bringing me to my knees.

”She’s…...”

“No, no. She’s not dead. But, listen. I looked around the Waterfront for her like you said, and they had seen her recently alright. But the thing is, she got into some trouble, theft or the like and she apparently killed a member of the Imperial Watch. They caught her, and she did some time, I thought I could get her sprung for you, a benefit of the blades, but they had released her a few days before I got there. No ones saw her since. But I heard a disturbing rumor….” She paused not certain if she should tell me.

I looked at her with expecting eyes and her expression grew concerned.

“..Now it’s just a rumor. But one of the beggars said he saw her talking to a figure in dark robes in the middle of the night. Seemed suspicious. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but when he left her she looked like a ghost had just visited her, that she was pale even for a Dunmer. He thinks she may have been….recruited.”

My heart stopped beating, and I in turn grew pale. I knew who it was she had been speaking with. I had dealings with them before.

“Recruited…by the Dark Brotherhood.” I said before throat burned with an acidic vomit, and my head spun uncontrollably. The room grew black and the last thing I remembered hearing was ‘hey, you okay Seth?’

In a time and place I did not feel, dark dreams and old demons came to me, rotting corpses of past victims came to tear away and gnaw at my very soul. Evil it would seem came to claim any vestige of happiness that I had.

Then suddenly. There was light. And a rough calloused hand caressed the side of my face. Concerned words filled my ear. Then a sudden sharp pain on my cheek. Someone had slapped me.

I opened my eyes to Caius face laughing at me. My disorientation was nearly overwhelming, and I could barely remember what had happened.

“…how, how long?”

“About two hours. Seems you’ve received quite a shock with Setsuna. Didn’t realize that an Assassin had such a weakness for loved ones. Even if they end up becoming one themselves.’

“Screw you, Caius. You know the only reason I’m still here was because I wanted to give her a better life. Now what’s your hold on me?”

“The fact that you want to know what’s really going on. That there’s something I’ve yet to tell you, but will reveal when the time is right. Now then, as long as you’re here. Tell me all about your week, oh! Two weeks! You’re late with your report Apprentice.”

Somehow his mocking tone and commanding attitude brought me back to my senses. If this was a dream it sure felt real. I even remembered to keep my tongue in check, as I told him of my missions in the Morag Tong, and my training with Goren Andarys, he sat down listening to my experiences, nodding to himself looking at the floor, than I also told him about Ilmeni. I don’t know why. Maybe it was because I had no one else to listen to me.

But at the mention of the name, he looked up in surprise.

“Ilmeni DREN?’ he said in shock.

”Yes, why?”

He laughed out loud. Standing up and lighting a hackle-lo, commenting that he couldn’t believe that it always happened to him.

“Do you know who she is?”

I stared at him dumbfounded, saying that I’m sure he was going to tell me.

“Ilmeni Dren is the daughter of Vedam Dren. In case you’ve never heard of him, he’s the Duke of Vvardenfell! That’s right! The Imperial Magistrate of the whole of Vvardenfell! The top guy! The big slaughterfish! The guy second only to Lord Vivec! You’re seeing a Noblewoman pretending to be a commoner! More than that, my Agent in Caldera, Surane Leoriane tells me she may even be involved with the Twin Lamps. They’re the local abolitionist group; they free slaves and send them back to their homelands. We don’t interfere because although it’s against the law to free them in Morrowind, we don’t condone slavery in the first place.” He sat down after ranting, looking at me intensely.

It was my turn to be shocked now, it was almost enough to make me forget about Setsuna for a moment.

“What do I do?”

“Well, you have to stop seeing her for starters. If something goes awry, there’s nothing I can do to help you. The duke’s authority is way over my head. Sweet Mara, Sethyas, I should have known you were trouble the second I finished reading that report you delivered me.”

I nodded unable to fully disagree. But my thought moved back to my sister.

“What of Setsuna? I need to know if she’s ok.”

Caius sighed and shrugged.

“If you promise to complete what I need from you, I promise I will send word that she is to be found and taken care of, I can set her up in a Blades safe house for a while. Beyond that my hands are tied, and really, so are yours Sethyas.”

I got up and clasped his hand, looking at him square in the eyes.

“I promise.”

Anger and uncertainty are strange things. They both hold your reason back, yet they propel you forward blindly. How can you explain the frustration of being in checkmate? You can’t, only if you’ve ever experienced it do you know how I felt. Everything that seemed to have been developing to some form of hopefulness had been torn from me.

Mostly I felt for Setsuna, and my anger for not being able to help her made me hate myself and Caius. But he kept on reminding me that there was something larger that I was here for. And I couldn’t walk away from it no matter how I tried. I would let the world burn if it meant that I could hold Setsuna in my arms once more, and yet, I also wanted to give the world to her.

But I decided to think locally. Ilmeni and I need to talk, badly.

Knocking on her door furiously, she opened it with a strange and annoyed look on her face; she nodded her head for me to come in.

I pushed her to sit on her bed, she gave a defiant squeak, but one look in my eyes showed her that I was in no mood.

“Who is your father?” I said quietly.

Her face became shocked, her red eyes glowing slightly. “What does that have anyth-“

“Save it. Who is your Father?”

She became indignant to the question, and stood up, staring into my eyes angrily, only inches from my face.

“Fine. Yes, it’s Vedam Dren. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“I wanted the truth. Are you ashamed of being rich? Do you know how many people would kill to be in your shoes? And they must be rather nice shoes for the Dukes daughter, at that.”

“I’m not ashamed of anything I am or do! How dare you accuse me of anything! You don’t know me at all!”

I took the blow personally; I knew I was being hypocritical in the worst way. It made me angrier at myself then her.

“And I know you’ve been lying to me about yourself too. You think I’m stupid? Someone manages to kill two Ordinators, and yet YOU of all people, supposedly just a courier for the East Empire Company, people who buy and use slave labor by the way, manages to catch and kill her?”

“I don’t think you’re stupid.” I said quietly, calming down.

“Guardung! You sure treat me like it!” she yelled.

“Fine, you want the truth? I warn you though. You may not like it.” I said sinisterly, speaking in a tone that I might use with someone that I had a writ on.

She was surprised to my change in attitude, and paused before responding with a quiet, ‘yes’.

I grabbed her by the arm, and led her from her apartment to mine. I let her stand in the middle of the room while I opened my closet, and changed into full assassin dress, leather bracers, Morag tong mask, and put on my weapons. As a finishing touch, I put on the ring of Khajiit and cast invisibility in front of her. Her surprise was evident as my voice moved around her.

“I am not a courier, I am an Assassin. I rely on stealth and surprise to stalk and kill my prey. Because of my profession, I am discreet, efficient and reliable.”

I then reappeared and handed her a rolled piece of paper. She opened it and recognized the Morag Tong Seal.

“This morning you asked me if I had heard of the Telvanni Canton Executions. I much more then heard of it. I executed it.”

I pulled out my dagger and put it to her throat. “I can take life in cold-blood; I am no stranger to it. I was poor in Cyrodiil, so was Setsuna. But the last thing I could ever do was to let her starve. I love my sister more then my own life. I would do anything for her. But she never knew of my trade, I couldn’t stand to break her heart. And for that same reason, I have never told you….” I said quietly lowering the dagger, and removing my mask.

“And so you know what I really am, and you know how I feel.” I shed a bitter tear.

“Now just walk away from me like everything else good in my life.” I said turning my back to her.

She began to cry too, and then grabbed my shoulder, turning me around.

“I know who you are.” She sobbed, kissing me softly. I kissed her back, not letting her go. Not for the rest of the night.

Morning broke through my window; the soft light matched my mood. It was as though a weight was lifted from my shoulders. Ilmeni’s sleeping form next to me reminded me as to why. I had betrayed both the Blades and the Tong last night. No one was to know that I was in the Tong, and Caius had ordered me to not speak with her anymore.

But what I felt for her was undeniable. Enough to even risk my own life so that I may not hurt her anymore. It was strange, but she understood who I was, and why it was what I did. I wouldn’t dare reveal my affiliation with the Blades to her, but she was safe from the Morag Tong. Short of a writ being executed upon her, as she was a noble, even her father had to employ our services from time to time, and she was a member of House Hlaalu, so she had been raised of the native Dunmer tradition of house wars.

Rising and yawning, I washed up and dressed in my Morag Tong clothes, adjusting my leather bracers, sharpening my dagger, and restringing my bow. All in all preparing for another productive day of killing. Realizing that it might be strange to rise from such enjoyment of life only to go and be an ender of life, I recalled what was a common saying amongst my brethren in the Guild.

Take life seriously; if taking life is your profession.

I was learning to. And the thoughts did not stop me from reporting to the Grandmaster that very morning, and he was acting strange as well. Not in a bad way, he just seemed to have more to say then usual. His cold mask of self-control was melting just a little more around me. Though I dared not act in any way less than with utter respect.

“Yes, good morning Sethyas. You have come here seeking writs?” he inquired.

“Yes, Master.”

“Very good. There are two that are outstanding that you should be more then capable of. You will be pleased to know that they are both here in Vivec, moreso, neither is particularly dangerous. So you may find this to be rather easy, I may even see you in a few hours. I realize that Odaishah and Sarayn Sadus proved challenging but that is not a bad thing. Always must we keep ourselves, and our skills as sharp as our blades?”

He pulled out his leather tome, and made some notes, followed by handing me two writs.

“The first is Galasa Uvayn, a house Hlaalu accountant whom offended a Redoran Lord. Likely she is in the Hlaalu Canton treasury as we speak. My agents inform me that she does not realize that her life is in any danger, so you may be able to use this one to your advantage.”

“The second is Guril Retheran, around this time he is usually in the Flowers of Gold Corner club in the Redoran Canton. But take care with this one, Sethyas. He is an Assassin, though not a particularly gifted one. As a matter of fact he’s a terrible Assassin, a shame to the trade. But we suspect that he may have connections to our ancient enemies, the Dark Brotherhood. If you see anything….interesting, on his person…bring it to me, I will explain later.”

I nodded, flinching almost at the mention of the Dark Brotherhood. But I wasn’t about to reveal what I had learned only yesterday. I had to earn more trust in the guild, lest they think I was spying for them, as I most certainly would never do.

Thinking it over, I realized that these were easy, at least in terms of distance. But these would be public executions. Not easy. But when one was creative, they could almost be fun.

First I would deal with the accountant though. If she was Hlaalu then she was likely a rich empire-lover. That was two strikes in my book. Even though Ilmeni was rich and Hlaalu, she had compassion. She dedicated herself to selflessly ending a ‘tradition’ that she believed was wrong. She had conviction and believed that life was worth more than money.

But now wasn’t the time for these thoughts. I pushed feelings to the back of my mind, and focused myself as Goren had taught me.

I thought over her location and likelihood of her position and dwellings. An accountant. Spending all day in a money counting setting. What would her biggest weakness likely be? I smiled to myself as the answer came to me. I had no way of knowing for sure, but I imagined myself in her position. Like all writs, this too was a gamble.

I took a few minutes to gather a small bouquet of Gold Kanet, Stone flower, and Heather flowers, and stopped by the Elven Nations Corner club, where I had killed Feruran Oran only weeks before. The murder did not seem to stop the patrons from coming, as the usual smell of Sujamma and hackle-lo filled the tavern.

I asked the tender for a list of her most expensive spirits, and I shelled out One hundred and twenty drakes for a bottle of Cyrodiilic Brandy, in my opinion the only decent contribution the Imperials ever gave to Tamriel.

Also renting a room from her, I needed privacy to concoct a very powerful poison. One that was harmless in its powder form that Ajira in the Mages guild, had both warned me about, and suggested that in the future I may find it useful. Combining Bittergreen petals, and Luminous Russula, I applied the poison to the object that would be Galasa Uvayn´s death.

Knocking on the door of the Hlaalu Treasury, I was greeted by a surly Dunmer man, who asked me what my business was.

I replied by saying that I had a delivery for Galasa Uvayn. He said he would take it for her, to which I showed him the Flowers and Cyrodiilic Brandy.

”Please Serjo. I’m being paid very handsomely by a Nobleman whose name I cannot reveal to gauge her reaction, she has a Secret Admirer, you see.”

The Dunmer looked surprised and bade me to come in, he ushered me to a back office, to which a young, and not unattractive Dunmer maiden sat, pouring over books and parchments.

“Yeah? Whaddya want?”

“These are for you Madame. You have a potential Suitor that wishes you know his intentions.”

”Mother, Lord, and Wizard! These are for me? I can’t believe it! Is he rich? Is it that fathead Redoran who swore he’d leave his wife for me?”

I simply smiled at her, and told her I could not say. The Dunmer man left down the hallway, and Galasa opened the bottle of Cyrodiilic Brandy, and took a deep swig.

I simply looked at her, and she smelled the flowers.

Come on! I thought to myself.

“Oh you know what?! I should put these in water.” she commented as she reached for a carafe of water and a vase.

As she put the stems in the vase, the reaction was instant, the water boiled almost instantly and the deadly vapors from the powdered poison I had made engulfed her nostrils, and her death was instant, her head hitting the desk on the way down.

I felt sorry for her, so she didn’t offend the Redoran Lord. She merely had an affair, and she became a liability. I doubted that even the Tong ever got the full story when we received a request for a writ. But this was the system that the Dunmer had agreed upon; this was what kept total warfare from consuming the countryside, as the Morrowind Dunmer was very violent people. Then again so was I. If I hadn’t killed her some other assassin may have. And they may not have been as swift and painless as I had been.

Regardless, I had to get out of the room quickly before I too was overtaken by the poison, and using my ring to move unseen, I waited until the clerk went back to check on her to open the door back into the waistworks.

Reaching the Redoran Canton easily, I slipped into the plaza before any alarms could be raised, and ducking into the Flowers of Gold Corner club, I checked to see if my next target was in. And he was, Guril Retheran was quietly eating a meal all to himself, in some lonely corner. I was almost tempted to just sneak behind him and slit his throat. But I remembered what Grandmaster Eno Hlaalu said about him being a terrible Assassin.

I remembered than a book I had read while in Balmora a while ago. A very good book indeed, about a man who was very cunning.

Taking another few minutes to myself in a rented room, I again set about making a poison once more. Fetching out my old iron dagger from the bottom of my satchel, this is what I would need to get what I wanted, and to quietly eliminate Retheran.

Quickly sitting down next to him, before he had a chance to react, I stabbed him in his thigh, and twisted the blade ever so slightly. He of course yelped in pain. But I sinisterly whispered to him, to pretend that I was an old friend that he was happy to see, or else the dagger would end up someplace more painful. He was more than willing to cooperate.

“Now then.” I said as I placed a glass vial filled with liquid directly in front of him. “The reason I stabbed your leg, and not your throat, is because I need some questions answered. But, the dagger is also poisoned, a very subtle but effective poison. It will keep you alive just long enough to answer my questions. The vial I placed there? That is the antidote. If you tell me what I want to know, and I walk away with what I need. Then I will let you drink it. Do we understand one another?”

“Yes, yes. Please, I’ll tell you anything you want just let me live. Oh, Dear, I can feel it taking hold already!’

“Good. Now, what, if any, are your connections to the Dark Brotherhood?”

“Oh, Almalexia! They, they said that they would have a place for me when they eliminated the Morag Tong! They gave me this as a sign of trust!” he said pulling out an expensive looking glove. I touched it, and could sense a powerful enchantment on it.

“What’s this about eliminating the Morag Tong?”

“I swear I don’t know anything else!”

I twisted the dagger a little more.

“I don’t! Please! I feel my breath slipping away!”

“Fine then.” I said releasing my dagger from his thigh, and getting up. “you may have your antidote.”

He desperately grabbed the bottle and drank the entire contents with but a gulp. The relieved look on his face disappeared a few seconds later as his head hit the table. Dead.

Reporting the assassinations to Eno Hlaalu, I told him about the example I showed to Guril Retheran.

“I’m confused. He didn’t drink his antidote in time? How were you planning to kill him after that?”

I smiled at him. “Have you ever read ‘A Game at Dinner’, Grandmaster?”

He had, and laughed out loud. The dagger was never poisoned. The ‘antidote’ was the poison. Any effects felt had all but been in Guril’s mind. I merely used his own fear against him. After all I felt that if he wanted to be an Assassin, he should know how it’s done.

Besides the laugh that Eno gave, considering I had never even seen him crack a smile, I also gave him the glove and reported the information that Guril gave me.

The Grandmaster nodded, and examined the glove.

“Do you know what this is, Sethyas? This is the Sanguine Glove of Horny Fist. Any who wears it will be more skillful in their hand to hand combat. Long Ago, the Daedra Sanguine gave the Great Daedra Mephala twenty seven token to serve her followers. However in the great schism when the Dark Brotherhood broke from the Morag Tong, they stole these tokens from us. Now, through the Machinations of Mephala, she has arranged for these threads to return to us one by one. But now is not the time to speak of this. Here is your payment of two thousand drakes, for your writs. I must follow up on this information you have given me. Leave me now.”

I nodded to him and returned to my apartment, embracing Ilmeni who had not left. Strange to return to her from what I had just done. But it is what it is, I suppose. I’m just happy to return home to one that I love.

After a day of living as a normal person, I went the next morning to follow up with the Grandmaster about the information I had received from Guril Retheran. The idea that the Dark Brotherhood were planning to eliminate the Morag Tong was a strange one to me.

Imagine two ancient factions of Assassins who had spent millennia honing there techniques of secret murder attempting to wipe one another out, a war taking place in shadow and in silence, an invisible war. And unbeknownst to me I would soon be the major warhorse.

Greeting each other, the Grandmaster, Eno Hlaalu clearly had the look of a man who had not slept, and as he explained to me the situation, it was clear as to why. The Dark Brotherhood rarely set foot in the Morag Tong’s territory, that is, Morrowind, where they had legal sanction to operate. Though the contracts that the Dark Brotherhood was occasionally required to carry out in Morrowind were performed by their best agents, and with utmost speed. Tong Agents whom retired outside of Morrowind generally kept a very low profile as to avoid elimination by the Brotherhood.

Now though it would seem that they had infiltrated our turf deeper then ever imagined possible, and until now they had remained undetected. It was disheartening news, especially for the Grandmaster whom felt as though he had failed the Tong in some way, but I would hear none of it. Before I had joined the Guild, I believed that Assassins could not be noble, could not know the meaning of family. They had shown me both, as well as there meanings. They had embraced my talents and honed them to a deadly edge, and yet they also showed me love. It was time to return the favor.

“Tell me what our next move is. We have strength in the fact that they don’t know that we know they’re here now.”

Eno nodded. “I want you to speak with an Enchanter here in Vivec, in the Market Canton. His name is Miun-Gei; he is also a Mehrunes Dagon Cultist. Find out what he knows, by any means possible.” He said pulling off a ring; it was an ebony ring with the Morag Tong seal on it.

“If you need to act in an extra-legal manner, this will let the guards know that you are acting in accordance with the Morag Tongs blessings. Go now.”

I nodded and set out, entering the Argonian´s shop, I inquired as to what he knew of the Dark Brotherhood in Vvardenfell.

“Dark Brotherhood? Why would I know anything about that? Go away before I call the guards!” the lizard hissed at me. Pulling out a small sack of gold, I gave Miun-Gei a disbelieving look.

“All right, fine. Here in the Plaza, look for a Khajiit named Tzarami. Tell her I sent you. Leave me alone, now!”

I walked the short distance up to the Plaza, and was surprised to find a sight that I had seen before, but hadn’t truly seen. A Khajiit female, walking around in dark clothing. Typical of the assassins and thieves trade.

“I want someone dead.” I whispered to her.

“What, you walk up to the first Khajiit you see and you think you know the Dark Brotherhood? Go away!” she hissed at me in a low tone.

“Who said anything about the Dark Brotherhood, maybe I just thought you were an assassin?” I whispered back.

She gulped when she realized that she had made a slip, but probably because I had brought a dagger to her ribcage threatening to puncture her lung.

“You and I are taking a little walk, kitty. Don’t make any sudden moves or I’ll cut you where you stand.” I hissed sinisterly.

“You’re Morag Tong!” she said trembling.

“That’s right. Let’s go.” I said making way with her to the Arena Canton, blindfolding her when I reached the outside, knowing that it would be foolish to reveal our headquarters to a Dark Brotherhood Agent.

Arriving to the Grandmasters room, Eno gave me a surprised look, inquiring as to what I was doing here with this Khajiit. When I told him the story of what had transpired, Eno´s attitude changed from cautious to downright sadistic. His black leather gloves creaked as he balled his fists with a malevolent grin. Two of our other agents tied her to a chair in our interrogation room.

“You’ve done well. For your initiative in bringing her here, I’m promoting you too Thinker, and I reward you with these scrolls of Invisibility, I have at times found them useful. Since the ‘interrogation’ may take awhile, why not execute these outstanding writs to kill some time…..pardon the pun.” He said in a gleeful and relieved tone.

“One is for, Mavon Drenim, whose one year of waiting from his last writ is up. Pay him a visit in the Telvanni Canton, and wish him a Happy Anniversary for us, no? And the other is also for a Telvanni, but he is a dangerous Necromancer living in Shara, far to the North, on Sheogorath Island. Let Tirer Belvayn know that we Dunmer will not tolerate Necromancy in Morrowind. Mephala be with you, Thinker. Swiftness and accuracy to you.” The Grandmaster said handing me the Writs.

Nodding and taking my leave, I once more decided to get the hard writ out of the way first, heading to the docks north of the city, I arrived two days later in Dagon Fel, and checked in at the End of the World Tavern to spend the night and get some info on my mark.

Much to my fortune there was an agent of the thieves’ guild named Hjotra the Peacock, a ‘pawnbroker’ in the Tavern itself. Several flagons of mead later and a few gold drakes lighter in my coin purse, and she opened like a clam.

“Sssure, I hearda hif,--him. Some creepy necro—ffffphilist. No, no…not phil. Mance….yeah mancer…Ty—r,--somethin’……..in Shhhhhhara, sssssure….west ‘a here….on the…coast….or was it east? Naw, naw! The West! I’m ssssure of it!” she said as she passed out onto the table.

I audibly said thank you and stumbled my own way up to my room. I rarely drank, but in the spirit of getting the information I needed, I was willing to imbibe, opening the window a crack to relieve myself, I gave little thought to the sanitary conditions outside. But the rain would wash it away anyway.

Rising to the morning sun, I actually felt alert and prepared, and I set out to hunt the fell grave-robber. Necromancy was somewhat legal in Cyrodiil where I come from, but I always thought that digging up ones remains as immoral. As an assassin, I held respect for the peace of death, and did not relish the thought of someone’s bones being forced to do the bidding of the living.

Finding the entrance some hours later, I was reminded of my mission for the Blades to enter the Andrano Ancestral tomb some months ago, and how I had fled from the bone walker that dwelled there. I was more skilled now, but did not relish the thought of facing the undead. Though my other public assassinations relied on cunning and deception, it would seem that this would be a straightforward ‘go here and kill this person’.

Unslinging my Bonemold Bow and nocking a silver arrow, I was greeted by the skulls of past desecrations decorating the entrance torch-pits. A warning perhaps, but it would not scare me off. I was the messenger of death that had come to bring peace to the denizens within. Greeted by skeletons and zombies, I made short work of all of them, through arrow and dagger.

However I encountered an unexpected host. Within a summoning room, I spied a fearsome creature wearing black pointed armor, and his dark demonic face protruded with small horns. A Dremora Guardian stood between me and my mark. And all my abilities in stealth served no purpose against the intelligent servant of oblivion, as he unsheathed a dark blade, and rushed me.

Cutting through my Netch leather armor like a hot knife through scrib jelly, I was cut and bleeding, and soon had to rely on my agility to dodge his attacks. Switching to martial arts, I was able to land several punches and kicks on the Dremora, who soon seemed tire from the combat. I then began using the Black Hand style, careful to preserve my magicka using minor shock and poison spells. Then when I felt that the moment of truth was at hand, I sent the Daedra stumbling back with a kick to the chest, and pulled my right hand back, with my fingers outspread, the tips of them glowing with the five destruction spells that Goren had taught me. Pushing forward, I made contact with the chest of the beast and fire, frost, shock, poison, and damage health claimed the last vestiges of its existence on this plane.

I in turn claimed its fearsome weapon, picking up the Daedric Katana, I was surprised by both its weight and intricacy, the blade was dark, and the runes along the bottom edge of the blade and the hilt, glowed a faint red. Getting in a few moves with the sword, I realized that it would be important to conserve fatigue while using it. And I intended to use it, quite soon.

Alerted by the sounds of my battle, Tirer Belvayn simply sat at his table drinking from a goblet, preparing for one of ours demise, and as I walked toward him, he knew his was coming.

“I would have rather hoped that the Dremora would have turned you into another one of my servants. You would have made an excellent Bone walker with your skill, no matter. Do what you have come here to do, Mephala’s Servant.”

Sensing something was amiss; I realized that this was too easy.

When you are strong, pretend that you are weak.

Looking about the darkened chamber, I saw them. Two skeleton archers, arrows ready to fire, waiting for me to get into a closer position to fire. Realizing that he likely had reinforcements waiting for me should I leave, I had to assess my situation. What was his weakness? Where could I turn this to my advantage? Then the answer came to me simply.

His weakness was his arrogance.

Knowing a simple Drain spell, I casted it upon the Necromancer, Tirer flinched as he expected a different kind of spell. His Willpower no longer able to control his minions, a fury of undead screams filled the chamber echoing off the walls, seeming to land right on the red eyes of the doomed Dunmer.

Two arrows now landed into Tirer Belvayn´s chest and arms, and from behind me, three bone walkers entered the room, and descended on his form. The sound of flesh being ripped from bone, mixed with his screams of agony, until finally silence.

The undead creatures then stumbled away from the pile of flesh, blood and entrails that once comprised the Necromancer, Tirer Belvayn. They walked toward me slowly, expecting an attack, I moved into a defensive position. But they simply stood there, staring at me. Finally understanding, my Daedric Katana swished through the air, effortlessly cutting down the cursed creatures.

This was the difference between Sacred and Philosophical necromancy. The Dunmer tied there ancestors to their tombs, the corpses serving eternally with a sense of duty. Tirer instead researched it on unwilling subjects. Always aware, and in a living hell, these abominations put up no fight as I brought them to peace a second time.

Control is a fleeting concept, and power held is spent mostly trying to maintain itself, one slip and it is gone. As an Assassin, I was well aware of fates treachery, and always stood ready for the instant that separates life from death, wealth from poverty, fortune from tribulation.

Only when submit to life’s flow are we free to truly live and experience. A lesson that Tirer Belvayn, learned too late.

Returning to Vivec, I felt different for my experience with the undead. Nonetheless, I had another writ to perform, and Mavon Drenim, a Telvanni Battlemage awaited the next attempt on his life. I hate battle mages….

Walking to the Telvanni Canton, inside the Tower several of the Hirelings of Mavon Drenim looked at me and my clothes simply stepping aside, one even whispering that they would not interfere. As was Telvanni custom, the strong ruled and treachery and magic was the traditional way of settling disputes. And I was certain the Mavon disputed the idea that I could end his life. Only one could walk away from this.

Donning my mask, and preparing my bow, Mavon Drenim and two of his mage bodyguards prepared themselves against any who would come for his life. Casting Invisibility with my ring, I hopped over the terrace, and through a series of jumps made it to the rafters. Unfortunately with battle mages, they wore heavy armor, making the frontal assault on Drenim pointless. His two companions however, did not wear any armor.

Sniping one of the Mages with an arrow through the heart, Mavon and his friend now spotted me, stealth blown, they showered me with a fury of spells, most were easy to avoid, and the sight of me jumping from rafter to rafter must have been quite comical.

Finally though it seemed that there magicka was low and using a few throwing knives I aimed for the mage bodyguards’ thighs and feet, lacerating her tendons, she fell in a scream of fear and frustration, now crawling for the stairs. Mavon instead turned his attention towards me, and summoned a Storm Atronach as a final barrier to his life.

Though the fearsome elemental kept throwing lightening at me, he soon returned to oblivion in a flash of yellow energy. Mavon Drenim then pulled out an Ebony staff that glowed with a powerful fire enchantment, leaping to the ground I landed effortlessly, and unsheathed the Daedric katana, facing him, as little other tactic could work against this man whom was expecting a visit from me.

The fury in his eyes matched the fury of his staves strikes. He yelled as fire consumed me, but did little damage to my Dark Elven resistance to fire. I countered with a parry that landed on the middle of his staff, chipping the ebony.

We circled one another, glaring each other down, I came in with a slash that he met with an ebony pauldron, once again the powerful Daedric katana chipped the blood of Red Mountain, but did not make a wound, realizing that his only vulnerable spot was his head, or a thrust that could break through the Cuirass beneath his exquisite robe. I flipped the katana around a bit and retreated to a defensive stance, awaiting his next move.

The mage unleashed the full fury of his staff to my body. The fire doing minimal damage, Mavon was aware of the resistance, but had little choice in tactics and I slowly gained the advantage, where he depended on spells and armor, I depended on skill. Where he had heavy armor, I had mobility, and in a flipping roundhouse, my foot met his face, the grunt he bellowed followed by him landing on the floor, the weight of his armor pinning his down, as well as my foot planted squarely on his chest.

Bringing the katana to his neck, I wished him a happy anniversary from his last writ, and as I brought the katana up for a downward swing, he laughed, and laughed, I even hesitated for a moment, wondering if there was a trap. But no, Sheogorath had taken him. He had lived in constant fear for many years now, and now that fear was gone.

“You’re free now Drenim. Go with the ancestors.” I said a small prayer for him. For his bravery I made it swift.

I still hated battle mages. But I held respect for this one.

Returning to the Arena, I clasped hands with Eno, whom winced at my grip.

“Easy, my fists were well used in the last few days. She was a tough, I’ll give her that. But she finally broke. We are closer to planning our next move against the Dark Brotherhood. But in the meantime, here is your gold for the honorable executions of Tirer Belvayn, and Mavon Drenim. 2000 gold. 1000 for each. Now with that out of the way, Tzarami has .had a partner working with her in Pelagiad, seek Hrordis a Nord woman in the Halfway Tavern, if you cannot bring her here, and eliminate her. I need not tell you the need for secrecy on this one. Go now.”

The walk from Vivec to Pelagiad was pleasant, and gave me a chance to unwind. However I was accosted upon the road….

“Greetings, my friend! It is I! Nels Llendo!” said an elegantly dressed Dunmer in Bonemold armor; his elegantly trimmed goatee denoted a streak of vanity.

“Nels Llendo?” I asked incredulously, uncertain of what to make of the Dunmer.

“Ah! So you have heard of me! No, no. No need to tremble in fear! Nels Llendo is hardly the savage cutthroat that some would make me out to be, in fact I have a healthy proposition for you!”

“Proposition?” I said, confused.

“Yes, simply an exchange of gold, say fifty pieces, and you will be allowed safe travels on the road. What do you say? Nels Llendo can be a very good friend to have!” he exclaimed in a merry tone.

The situation became clear, realizing I was being robbed by a bandit who fancied himself a gentleman, truth was he still seemed a decent sort for a rogue, I myself had a past in banditry and understood the motivation. Laughing aloud, I exclaimed, gripping the hilt of my Katana.

“First off, you’re not a Khajiit, stop saying ‘Nels Llendo this and Nels Llendo that’, and what would prevent me from simply cutting you down where stand brigand?” I mocked.

“Because I see that you have a short blade there as well, I know a few moves that you may find quite useful. Besides, it’s only fifty gold!”

Laughing at his response, I surrendered a small coin purse to him, Nels smiled at the ‘exchange’ and bade me farewell, and told me to look him up at the Pelagiad Halfway Tavern in the future. I stopped him short and explained to him that that was where I was headed, and that he may be of some use after all.

At first he was reluctant to agree, but with the promise of ten times what I had just paid him, he was quick to agree.

“After all, how can Nels—um, I, refuse a friend in need?” he said laughing.

Arriving to the Halfway Tavern, Nels settled in at the bar while I cased the joint to devise my next strategy. Amongst the patrons, I noticed a Khajiit woman eyeing me closely and grinning slightly. Afraid that she was a Dark Brotherhood spy, I sat down across from her, she purred in appreciation of my forwardness.

“When Ahnassi sees smooth moves like this, she thinks a tight rope walker? A Dancer? No? It is her profession to see things like this”

Asking her about her profession, she purred that she was in fact a member of the thieves’ guild, and she commented that I moved with such grace, that I should be a member. Declining her offer, I instead offered her a drink, actually enraptured by her conversational skills, as we continued, she spoke of Hrordis and that she possessed a magical belt with some strange writings, possibly linked to the fact that she was a Mehrunes Dagon cultist. The second time I had discovered a link between the Dark Brotherhood and the Dagon Cult.

She also seemed to understand what I did for a living and broached the subject of new friends and sharing cares, and gifts. Pushing the subject, she spoke to me of a bad man who had recently threatened her. Knowing that my new friend could at least be valuable in future information, this simply would not do for me.

“In Gnaar Mok, Daren Adryn tells Ahnassi that there is no more thieves’ guild, there is only Camonna Tong, and he tells her that I work for them now. Ahnassi has no one else to turn to!”

Knowing that I was probably being manipulated, I would still protect her at least as an informant.

“I’ll handle him; you just keep your tail out of trouble in the meantime. Also, Hrordis, if anything comes up about her you look the other way, okay?” I said as she nodded.

Motioning to Nels, we both made our way up the stairs, and pretending to be drunken buddies, we stumbled into her room.

“What you doing in my room?” Nels said in a slurred tone that was all too accurate.

“This is my room! Get out of here you idiot!” she exclaimed.

Nels providing a distraction began urinating on her floor.

“What in Oblivions name? That’s disgusting! Im getting the owner!” she exclaimed running down the stairs. Nels and I laughed aloud, and I told him to make himself scarce as I paid him his promised 500 gold. He took off to the outside, and I made myself invisible, awaiting Hrordis’ return.

She came back up with the Tavern owner whom wasn’t at all pleased having to clean up Nels mess. It was nearly impossible for me to stifle my laughter, in truth it had been his idea, I had told him just to do something to get her out of the room for a minute. The rest fell to the brigand’s dirty mind.

Locking the door after the owner left, Hrordis began disrobing preparing for bed. One word from me stopped her, as I grabbed her key.

“I don’t wish to be dishonorable, milady, but I have some questions to ask you.” I said now visible, and calmly sitting down at her table.

“What the, you’re the other guy! Get—“

“Shhh, I’m not the other guy, I’m the Morag Tong Assassin whom knows of you and the Dark Brotherhood, and your fancy little magical belt. Tzarami, by the way, is dead.”

She flinched at the mention of Tzarami’s name, and unlike her dead partner, she was brave, and unsheathed a glass dagger and rushed me with a yell. Knowing that this one would never talk, I blocked her slash with my left arm, the blade narrowly missing my neck, with my right arm cocked back ready for a punch, I made contact with her abdomen casting a potent poison spell.

She reeled back from the blow and as the poison wracked its way through her system, she fell to the ground in a crumbled heap.

Claiming her belt and dagger, I returned quietly to the outside, and made my way to the Docks of Vivec. I had a small appointment to keep in Gnaar Mok.

Arriving that evening, I knocked on the door of Nadene Rotheran’s shack, as Ahnassi said that was where he frequented, as it was a Camonna Tong territory.

“What?” a rasp voice greeted me through a small opening in the door.

“Skooma?” I whispered, as the door opened and the Mer let me in.

“Hey Daryn, you got a customer.”

“How much you want, outlander?”

“I want you to leave Ahnassi alone.”

“I don’t know of any Ahnassi, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be any of your business, now blow like smoke.” Daryn Andyn said becoming quite hostile.

“I think you do, and I’m making it my business, Camonna Scum!” I said pushing the dealer.

That certainly did it, as all four of the Member attacked me; I ended up with three chitin arrows in my shoulder and four throwing knives bouncing harmlessly off my Leather Cuirass.

The other four ended up with glass dagger in there throats and hearts, as they weren’t used to hand to hand, or close quarters combat. What little I knew of the Camonna Tong I already didn’t like. I wasn’t about to involve myself in the turf war between them and the Thieves guild, but I still needed information to get ahead in my war with the Dark Brotherhood.

Retuning to Vivec later in the evening, Eno and I shared a chuckle as I recited my story with Hrordis, and told him of Ahnassi and her help and the fact that she pointed out a connection between the Dagon Cult and the Dark Brotherhood. I also surprised him with the belt. He smiled as he examined it.

“Yes…this is the Belt of Sanguine Fleetness, any who wears this will find there footsteps swifter than before. Excellent work, take these one thousand drakes and please accept your promotion to Brother, I know that these promotions are coming quickly but you’re doing excellent work. For now, rest. Come to me in the morning, and we shall discuss our next move.”

“Movis Darys. Does the name mean anything to you?” Eno asked me.

I nodded my head no, considering his meaning.

“He is posing as a student in the Ald’Ruhn Mages Guild, as you are a member and had spent some time in Ald’Ruhn recently, I was hoping you may have a least met him, no matter, along with the information we gathered from Tzarami, he is also a member of the Dark Brotherhood. However he has always shown a particular reluctance to the order. It may be possible to convince him to join us. You understand? Do not waste time in being hostile or careless with him, he is far more valuable to us alive then dead, if there is no other way, make sure his death is honorable.”

I nodded understanding his orders in full. If anything he sounded like a kindred spirit.

Arriving in Ald’Ruhn minutes later thanks to the guild guide, I immediately saw Movis, dressed in black reading a book with Valo Catraso. I approached the two of them, and Movis gave me a look of uncertainty, and excused himself from the session.

“Join me in a drink. We have much to discuss.” I offered amiably, he accepted and followed me to the Rat in the Pot.

“What do you know of the Morag Tong, Sera Darys?”

“The Morag Tong? I’m just a simple student, what do I know of killing and all that?”

I gave him a disbelieving look. “Movis, we know who you are. We know about the Dark Brotherhood, either you join us, or I have no choice….”

“Then if you know then it’s all over, but I have learned that the Dark Brotherhoods ways are not as honorable as the Morag Tongs. Tell the Grandmaster I will speak with him, and that is all I can promise.”

”You know we can protect you if that’s what you’re worried about. There is a war brewing, there will be many deaths on all sides. Now is the time to choose. Join us, Movis Darys. Even I have been recruited by the Dark Brotherhood, I held on to what little goodness I had in my life. I see myself in you in this.”

He nodded. Then gave me a strange look.

“Velas you said your name was? Have you a sister who goes by the name Setsuna?”

Shocked once more, I nearly toppled the poor Mer with my questions and outbursts.

“I have only heard the name from rumors that our couriers bring. They speak of a rising star within the brotherhood, they tell tales that she kills like a shadow, and they speak of her dark beauty. Already she is a force to be feared. But they say she never speaks to anyone, she is as mysterious as Sithis, no one knows her past.”

My anger nearly ate me alive. This was Setsuna. The only thing I ever kept from her she had become. It didn’t surprise me that my talent ran in the family, and now she had joined the opposing force. I had to save her. But I could not compromise Movis.

“Very well. Thank you for the information. You need to cut ties this very night, leave town immediately; here are 300 drakes, use it well. Do not betray your second chance.”

“I wont, here, this belt was given to me by the Dark Brotherhood, its not much, but I will not have much more use for it. Be safe.”

I took the belt and sensed the same energies held within it as the last two tokens. Returning to Vivec, I gave the belt to the Grandmaster.

“Ah yes, the Belt of Sanguine Denial, any who wears this will find there skill with blocking blows increased. Excellent. Take these One thousand drakes as though you had performed a writ on Movis Darys.”

Realizing that the time to come clean was now, I told the Grandmaster as to what rumors I had heard of my sister. He listened carefully, showing no signs of any emotion.

“You were right to withhold this until now, had you told me before you proved your loyalty, I would surely have thought you were an Agent of the Dark Brotherhood, and would have killed you myself. No matter. Now I know that I can rely on you to see this through to the end, if you ever want to see your Sister alive again. I will see what I can do in the meantime; perhaps we can draw her to us.”

In the meantime, I have two new writs that are extremely important, and we are being highly paid to see that we do not fail in them. The first is for Mathyn Bemis, leader of the Bemis Gang, who has taken residence in the Hlaalu Ancestral Vaults in the Underworks her in Vivec.”

“The second is for Brilnosu Llarys, a Battlemage who consorts with outlaw and Daedra cultists, she is within Hlormaren an Ancient Dunmer Stronghold west of Balmora.”

“A Battlemage?! Why in Azura´s Name is it always some freakin’ Battlemage I have to take out?”

“What is it with you and battle mages?” Eno finally broke down, half yelling, half laughing. “Always you go on and on about how much you hate battle mages, why?”

“Have you ever had to fight a Battlemage?”

“Of course.”

“Then you know how annoying it is trying to poke through some steel armor with a little toe-stabber, while trying to dodge a huge battleaxe, or some claymore, and on top of it all, they summon an Atronach of some sort to burn, freeze or electrocute you, or they summon a Bone walker that’s breathing in your ear, while it robs you of your strength.”

“Oh, I see. That makes sense. But would you rather take on a flock of Cliff Racers, or one powerful Battlemage?”

I thought about his question for a second.

“I’d take the Battlemage.”

“All right then, Go now.”

The stronghold of Hlormaren was not a simple search and kill. No, this was a large Bandit hideout, perhaps even a hub of sorts in the Bitter Coast. For several days I camped out and cased the joint, acknowledging the comings and goings of the bandits and there guard patrols. I was actually impressed by the organization of the band. And occasionally on the very top tier of the Stronghold, usually at sunset, I would see a Dunmer Maiden in dark blue robes. Likely Brilnosu.

Finally finding a weakness, at the coastline but a few yards from the Stronghold, I found an entrance to their sewers, making use of them; I had prepared myself with poisoned arrows for quicker takedowns.

Entering the basement, I found myself in a slave prison. The slavers were none to happy to see me either. A few arrows, a few dodges, a few slashes of my Daedric katana later, they were at peace. Forever. Finding a key on the table, I promptly opened the doors, and freed the Argonians and Khajiits being held prisoner, though I had come to like Morrowind, I found the practice of Slavery reprehensible, I had lived like one for long enough. They were grateful for their freedom, even if from a masked Morag Tong Assassin, one Argonian posed a question: “Thank You for your help…are you in the Twin Lamps?”

“No.”

“This one only hears rumors, they help slaves back home.”

I motioned him to continue through too the Sewers, as I still had a Battlemage to kill.

The lower area found many dark corners to skulk through, and an Orc guard with a nasty looking war hammer found that surprise can beat strength. Especially with a Glass dagger to the throat.


The upper level I found to be similar, except that I was rewarded with a Glass Jinkblade from a one Avon Ravel, along with a nice batch of gold from his chest.

And finally, I was upon the highest tier of Hlormaren, and as the sun set once more; he Dunmer Maiden in a dark blue robe exited her Dome, and gazed upon it. Sizing up my foe, I could not but help notice her beauty, but I also noticed a sizable bulk underneath her robe. Heavy Armor to be sure.

“It really is quite beautiful out here. A shame that I must kill you. Who are you anyways? Imperial Legion? House Hlaalu?”

“Morag Tong.” I said exiting from my hiding place, knowing that she knew I was there.

“That would have been my next guess. No matter, many have tried, all have died. And you are no match for me. I say that with no ego. It seems that only time will claim my last breathe from me. Shall we begin, Assassin?” she said pulling out a wicked looking spear that hummed with a powerful enchantment.

Facing her, I unsheathed my Daedric Katana, flipping it around a bit. We circled each other for a few steps, her face growing into a seductive smile. A single yell from her throat dissolved it and she thrusted forward with the Spear, my katana blocking the physical aspect of the attack, but the lightning from it coursed its way through my body, I grunted, as it took all my strength just to stay on my feet.

Secretly palming my newly acquired Jinkblade; I dodged her next few moves, as she attempted to impale me. Landing a few blows with my sword, they mostly bounced off her armor, though I did manage to slash her shoulder, showing me that she did not have any pauldrons, a potential weakness.

She began to grow tired from all my dodging, and her eyes fluttered in the back of her sockets as she began to chant some words. A conjuration spell. This was my chance, and I jammed the Jinkblade into her shoulder, the paralysis spell holding her fast. Gripping my Katana with both hands, I swung the sword as hard as I could, decapitate her.

“I’m sorry to act ‘dishonorably’ but you would have let a summoning do your dirty work for you, so this was hardly a duel. This was two disciplines facing off.” I said to her head.

I left the macabre scene, and returned to Vivec. It was not far at all. And I had another mark to get out of my way. Mathyn Bemis, leader of the Bemis Gang.

Underworks Ancestral Vaults are dark, dank and creepy places. Perhaps the perfect hiding place for the leader of a gang of bandits. Regardless, there will be blood spilt here tonight, perhaps mine, perhaps not. With a quick prayer to Mephala, I entered the eternal resting place, dagger unsheathed.

Not unlike many other encounters into caves, there was a guard patrolling, and much like my other encounters, my stealth and quick wrists brought him down quietly. I would not risk his steel armor clanging on the floor warning my mark.

Pushing forward, the gravelly ground made no sound as I had learned not to rotate the balls of my feet as I walked slowly. Hearing the sounds of voices coming from an adjoining chamber, I looked carefully around a corner, and took note of what I was up against. Three figures, all clad in light armor, chitin by the look of it, one had a steel crossbow, one had a longsword, and one hade a shortsword. Not knowing which Bemis was, I planned my best tactic.

Nocking an arrow, I aimed for the Dunmer Woman with the crossbow first, no need for me to be attacked long range. The arrow whistled toward her targeted throat, landing in her eye instead, lodging itself in her brain. The takedown was quick, further augmented by the arrows poison.

The other two Dunmer men immediately jumped to action, the one with a longsword running directly towards me, I mirrored his action and unsheathed my Daedric Katana, and my glass Jinkblade.

Not that I made a habit of throwing my most valuable weapons, but tossing the Jinkblade at him the dagger lodged itself in his shoulder, the enchantment holding him in place, followed by my sword running him through.

The shortsword armed Mer came in for swing to my right flank, I dodged out of the way as the blade sunk itself deep into my thigh. Wincing beneath my mask in pain, as he pulled the blade out, my foot came up into his face, a splatter of my own blood splashing his chest. He recoiled for a second, than came after me again, but my katanas point had found its way to his throat.

“Mathyn Bemis?” I asked, holding my leg with my right hand, the extended dark blade with my left.

“Naw, he was the other fella. Looks like you got no more quarrel with me. Lets just walk away like this never happened.”

“Reasonable, but I’m in no mood to accommodate.” I said as I swung around, piercing his heart. It was sad but true, but as an Assassin I always had o make certain. Besides he was a bandit, my justice was more merciful then an Imperial Dungeon.

Back in the Vivec Morag Tong headquarters, I dressed my thighs wounds as the Grandmaster spoke to me of the latest developments in the war on the Dark Brotherhood.

“Based on the information you have garnered us from Movis Darys, we have learned that they have remained undetected because the Cult of Mehrunes Dagon has been accommodating their stay while here in Vvardenfell. While we have agents in every city and settlement in Morrowind, the Daedric Shrines which have been left largely unvisited for centuries have allowed them a large contingency here.”

“However, what we do know is the location and name of a major head of the Dagon Cult. Carecalmo, a High Elf Sorcerer is in Ashalmimilkala, not far from Hlormaren actually.”

“Ash-al-what?”

Eno laughed. “Ashalmimilkala. Ancient Aldmer names for these ancient sites. As soon as you are healed, I want you to give Carecalmo an Ultimatum: Stop aiding the Dark Brotherhood or the Morag Tong will declare private war on the Dagon Cult. This time you need not worry about walking on Kwama egg shells. Let him know who he is dealing with, let him know the true and quiet fury that is the Morag Tong. Should he refuse you, make sure his death is honorable.”

I accepted the mission on behalf of my brothers and sisters in the Tong, but I mostly accepted it to show the Dark Brotherhood who they were dealing with, Azura help me should my Sister be harmed in any way, I would not stop until every worshipper of Sithis was dead. I had lived for her my whole life, and I would just as gladly die for her.

Aided by potions and our resident healer, my cut was fully mended in a few days time, and I left for the bitter coast once more. Fending off Daedra and a High Elf Conjurer to the entrance of Ashalmimilkala, I entered the dark and foreboding caverns. A guard, yet another High Elf, but this one in a full set of Steel Armor, patrolled the passageways, knowing that my entrance here wasn’t fully diplomatic, I made a hostile negotiation to speak with Carecalmo with my sword meeting his neck. Realizing I had a point to make, I took his head with me.

Carecalmo himself was an aged sorcerer that brooded over some tomes in his Daedric Chambers.

Placing his head on the Desk, Carecalmo looked upon it, and then shifted his gaze to me. The golden eyes were a dull almost lifeless hue blending in on his wrinkled face.

“I bring you a message from the Morag Tong. Stop aiding the Dark Brotherhood or you shall join them in there fate.”

“YOU presume to offer me an Ultimatum? No servant of Mephala may command me!” he roared standing up, preparing a spell.

Confronting the angered Wizard, I made quite short work of him with the ‘Five Fingers of Pain’ spell. High Elves it would seem have an inherit weakness to Magicka and elemental spells. Their unusually high sensitivity to the field of Magnus also left them more vulnerable to its effects.

So it would seem that his reluctance to heed the Tongs offer would put the Cult of Dagon in our fury’s wake.

So be it.

Now the war had truly begun.

“Well I can see that there is no way of talking you out of this.” Caius said munching on his bread.

I had gone to Balmora to give my weekly update to the spymaster, the story of the Tongs Private war with The Dark Brotherhood and the Dagon Cult was no small task, but I had a personal stake in it.

“Sorry, about Setsuna, I mean. I did try. I doubt that you’re going to survive this. But, who knows? You’ve learned so much since you’ve arrived here. Might give the Brotherhood a thing or two to think about, Good Luck.”

I nodded, and returned to Vivec later that day, embracing Ilmeni, and telling her of everything that had transpired, she cried as I told her that there was a strong possibility that I might not see her again, and that it was best for us not to see each other until I was certain that this was done.

“I won’t risk you being seen with me, you’re my weakness that they will use to their advantage, I love you.” I said my finger on her chin, as I gave her perhaps our last kiss.

Sleeping that night in my apartment, it would seem that I had known it would come, as the sound of a dagger being unsheathed brought my eyes open.

A shadowy figure clad in black snuck his way not a few feet from my bedside, the dagger poised to strike. My legs sporadically kicked the dagger out of the figures hands, and jumping out of my bed, I landed on top of the shadow, punching his face with all my frustration and anger. Yelling at the top of my lungs, screaming things like ‘I’ll show you the meaning of horror!’

It wasn’t until I noticed the blood seeping around its head that I stopped, my fists now aching from the blows, I stopped and sighed as I pulled his mask off. It was a dark elf; I looked at his outfit, and realized that he was wearing a very strong light armor, dark as the void, and light as a feather.

Making use of my enemies outfit, I cleaned the blood off the mask as best I could. I also found an ebony dart on his person; it had my name carved in on the side of it.

So I had been targeted for assassination by the Dark Brotherhood. But this was strange. This wasn’t like I had been expecting. This was as though there was a contract on me, and someone had paid them for their services to get rid of me, instead of myself being targeted in a Guild War.

I put the thought out of my mind, though it didn’t surprise me that someone would want me dead, it was too unlikely a coincidence. I instead decided to make use of the excellent armor against my enemies.

Sneaking back into the Arena Canton, Eno was surprised to see my new outfit.
“You look like a blasted Dark Brother!” he said laughing.

“You wish for me to remove the armor, Grandmaster?” I asked him humbly.

He shook his head. “Just be careful with it, the Tong and the Dark Brotherhood has made use of each others armor before. How did you get it anyways?”

I told him the story and showed him the dart.

“Give that to me…..hmmm, this is most disturbing. I’ll see what I can do, in the meantime sleep only in the guildhalls until I tell you otherwise, but I have some news. We have engaged the Dark Brotherhood. After Carecalmo’s refusal, we have begun to scour the land for Dagon Cultists and the Brotherhood, reports I have been receiving are mixed so far. But there is a place I wish for you to visit. Far in the northwest of Vvardenfell, there is a Shrine to Dagon known as ‘Yasamiddan’ I have heard that there is a holder of the Sanguine Sublime Wisdom known as Anel Rethelas.”

I nodded and prepared my leave as Eno stopped me.

“By the way, this belt you recovered from Carecalmo was the belt of Sanguine Martial Craft. Good work.” He smiled at me.

Several days later I was in Khuul, preparing to take the long walk to Yasamiddan, I did however stop in Thongar´s tradehouse, my armor covered by a common robe. And there I met a strange Khajiit.

“Shotherra knows these movements, yes, you are an Assassin. This armor you wear, you are with the Dark Brotherhood as well?” she asked me.

Looking around the bar, I met her gaze.

“Morag Tong, actually.” I said unsheathing my dagger.

Her eyes grew wide with fear. “You have come for it? No, please. Let this one go!” she whispered in hushed tones.

“Come for what?”

”The Amulet of Glib Speech, the sanguine token, they say that all the holders are marked for death.”

”Give it to me, and maybe I’ll let you live.”

She handed the amulet to me, and I did feel the enchantment that I had felt on the other tokens. I sheathed my dagger into her heart as her clawed hands clasped mine, I carefully sat her down, making her seem as though she had too much to drink.

The Dark Brotherhood would not see any mercy, nor have any prisoners taken from me. And I left the bar, and began walking westward to the shrine. Several hours later, amongst the ruined housing of a former settlement, I saw the strange architecture of the shrine, and removed my robe and affixed my new mask on, now one with the shadows; I crept into the shrine, sniping several Daedra along the way.

Inside, I was greeted with the same torchlight as other shrines, but there was a long descending stairway to the actual room, which was cavernous, and held a giant statue to Mehrunes Dagon. And standing along the way, there was a Dunmer Man whom met with a small accident as I pushed him down the rest of the stairs.

Retrieving his ring from his corpse, I made my way down into the shrine and another Dunmer, this one a Maiden, was praying before the shrine.

I made quick work of her with a dagger to the throat, and felt the enchantment upon her as well, it was her belt. Which I claimed for myself, as I turned to walk away, a voice from Oblivion called out, speaking through me it would seem.

”Why do you approach me little mortal? Do you seek your death so soon? Yet, you show courage for even daring to approach me, how ambitious are you, little one. Would you like a chance to prove your worth to me?”

I was frightened; I had spoken with Daedra before. But this, a challenge? But then again, the rewards of Daedra could be as equally great as there punishments.

“Very Well, I accept your challenge.”

”You are brave, or foolish. Perhaps both, this then is your chance to prove your worth to me. My Razor, slayer of man and Mer, scourge of all who stand before it, lays unused gathering dust in the Alas Tomb, near Molag Mar. The bearer was an elf of little courage or consequence. Bring it to me so that I may make it again what it once was.”

So there I was in the midst of the Tongs latest assault on Dagon’s Cult, and now I was making deals with there Lord. No matter, even I had heard of the Legendary Razor, it would prove to be a valuable weapon against the Brotherhood. If I could find it.

Setting myself upon the task, I casted a Mark spell in the Yasamiddan shrine. And took to the fields of the West Gash, running with all my speed towards Khuul, I needed to get back as soon as I could. The boat trip was long, two days around Vvardenfell´s coast to Molag Mar. Arriving, I asked a local Hunter, Rumare. If he knew of such a Tomb.

“Yes, I’ve heard of it, east of Mount Assarnibibi, the Pilgrimage site.”

I thanked him, and wasted no time. I’d been gone long enough as was.

The tomb was a bit more difficult to find then I had thought, but no matter, the numerous Daedra infesting the tomb, spoke of Dagon’s ‘challenge’ but slicing my way through the denizens with my katana I approached the resting place of Varner Hleras, upon his person he was buried with a rusty dagger that seemed unfit for use. Regardless this is what it seemed to be the Razor.

Casting a recall spell I found myself back where I had started. And the voice called out once more.

”Ah, you found my Razor. Good. I will now make it again what it once was. Can you feel its hunger? Can you feel its frustration? DRAW A LINE OF BLOOD ACROSS THE LAND IN THE NAME OF MEHRUNES DAGON!!”

The voice echoed its bloody message through my mind, and I now held a shimmering beautifully deadly dagger. Armor would melt before its strike, and deadly poison would guarantee death.

A true Assassins weapon.

The moons rose over the ancient city of Vivec, and I entered the Morag Tong base once more, having been gone for nearly two weeks, it was no wonder that the Grandmaster was concerned about me. Nonetheless, I turned in not one, but three Sanguine Tokens. Saying nothing about Mehrunes Razor to him, I did not need to bring any suspicion upon myself; I would kill the Dagon cultists and Dark Brotherhood alike with it.

“Excellent. Please accept these 1000 drakes as if this were a Writ. Now then, I have news for you. Setsuna has come to Vvardenfell. My agents have seen her skulking about Balmora looking for someone, my guess is for you. As to what her intentions are I cannot say, proceed with caution Sethyas.”

I nodded, not finding the information surprising. The last two weeks had found most of my frustration and anger melting to acceptance of the situation.

“We are reaching a foothold on our war with the Dark Brotherhood. We have cleansed Balmora, Ald’Ruhn, and Sadrith Mora, of known agents operating undercover. Though this has led too an act of desperation on the Dark Brotherhoods part. We have reports that state that they will assault our very headquarters here soon. They have come for me Sethyas, as soon as they learn our location, we can expect an attack. However. I know of a shrine to Mehrunes Dagon in Saint Olm´s, in the underworks. The Ordinators cleared it out years ago, but there have been rumors that it has been awoken in recent weeks. I believe that Durus Marius, a leader in the Dark Brotherhood may be administrating the operations in this location, investigate this place for me, and if my suspicions are true, bring death to all that inhabit this place, cleanse Assernerairan.”

I accepted his mission, and prepared myself for an assault. Sharpening my Katana and Dagger, restringing my bow and applying poisons to my arrows. Finally, I donned the black armor of the Dark Brotherhood, putting on the mask and moved silently into the night, the cool air and shadows hiding me from any agents or witnesses.

Within the Saint Olm´s underworks, I crept along the walls, the toes of the dark boots muffling my footsteps into total silence, in the distance I could see torches set up along an entryway, a sure sign that this shrine was no occupied once more. A Dunmer Maiden in steel armor guarded the door, sitting at a stool, she clearly expected no one, a fatal mistake, made even more fatal by the poisoned tip of a silver arrow that pierced her breastplate, leaving her leaning over to one side, mouth wide open in a silent scream of pain.

I opened the door a crack, using the Ring of Khajiit granted to me by Mephala to make myself invisible. Slipping through, I ran hastily to a pillar, and waited in the shadows to discern my next move.

Durus Marius was an Imperial name, and the only Imperial in the shrine I saw was in an adjoining room, dressed in black and leather armor, I saw another two enemies, one a Dunmer in Steel armor, the other a Bosmer in Bonemold. I was wiling to bet the Dunmer was a Dagon Cultist, whilst the Bosmer was more likely a Dark Brother shock troop of some sort. No conversations were held between the occupants. However, the bosmer did seem to be walking back and forth a great deal, even by me occasionally. Making use of his pacing, as he walked away from me, my left hand clasped his mouth pulling him to me, while the Razor ate through his cuirass and the poison wracked its way through his system, bringing death in but a few seconds. Fortunately the other two did not notice his absence immediately, allowing time to nock an arrow, and aim for Durus.

The arrow hit his left arm, the Imperial rising up in a painful scream. Pulling the arrow from his arm, he grabbed for a crossbow, aiming at nothing but shadows. The poison did its work as he collapsed in a heap.

The Dunmer, now alerted to my presence, had drawn a Daedric Longsword, and was frantically looking for the unseen assailant. Drawing my own katana and wielding the Razor with my other hand, I used my ring once more, and sneaked behind him, lodging the dagger in his back, he turned to face my now visible form, swinging the sword with furious tenacity.

I countered and blocked his blows as best I could, but the warrior showed no signs of fatigue or duress from the dagger in his back or the poison in his system. Finally felling him with a spinning back kick and a thrust to his midsection, the dark blade easily pierced the steel armor, and left him coughing up blood.

Feeling that the fight was finally over, I was proven by wrong by a bolt hitting my left shoulder, the tip barely saw its way through the pauldron, and I looked over at the body of Durus Marius attempting to prepare his crossbow for another shot. I walked over to him; he was lying on his stomach, breathing rapidly.

Kicking the crossbow away from him, I pushed him onto his back, and began the interrogation.

“I guess the poison didn’t have enough effect to kill you. That’s good, it gives me enough time to get what I need out of you.”

”Actually the poison was quite potent, Sethyas, I compliment you. But I’ve developed a small immunity to poison over the years. Being an Assassin makes you paranoid. You should know that.”

I wasn’t surprised that he knew my name. But his next statement did.

“Ah yes, I know your name, we’ve been watching you since you were a bandit in Cyrodiil, quite a shame too. You could have been quite an asset to our organization, looks like we got the better half though! Hahaha! That’s right! Setsuna is a Dark Sister now! Not only that, when we told her that you’d been lying to her all these years, she broke down! She hates you Sethyas! She’s renounced the blood you two share, and even now she has come to Vvardenfell to prove her loyalty to Sithis by killing you! It’s almost…..poetic, and most certainly ironic. Had you simply told her your true nature you may have saved her from her dark destiny? And you will die Sethyas. I have not seen an Assassin with her talent in many years, as much as you may think yourself good, she is better. And once the Morag Tongs golden boy is dead, we can finish our mission here, and eliminate the servants of Mephala in Sithis’ name.”

I am not sadistic, even though such things might be associated with an Assassin; our art is in death, not in dying. I will not describe how I finished Durus Marius. Indeed there are things worse then death, and I made certain that he suffered as many of them as I could think of before he finally begged me for death.

“This is most disturbing Sethyas, most disturbing indeed. I don’t know whether the Durus was speaking the truth or not. Remember your training. Deception is the art of shadow, and you were dealing with a veteran of our art.” Spoke Goren Andarys, the Master of the Ald’Ruhn Morag Tong Guildhall, and my teacher in the arts and sciences of murder.

“But should he have told you the truth, your love for her may not be enough, you must bury your feelings deep inside. You must train. You must be willing to end her life, as she may be willing to end yours.”

I shook my head in anger, was this what Durus was trying to do? Steal my focus with my greatest weakness? I had not slept in days, I had turned in the four belts I had found, and Eno had given me a promotion, to Master no less. But I had cared little, I had withdrawn inside myself, and all those around me could see it.

“Go and sleep now Sethyas. Speak with me when you awake.”

I nodded and complied, hitting the bed, all my weariness caught up with me and I fell into a deep slumber.

In sleep I dreamed of distant memories. Twenty years or more, and I was but a child living in a Chapel orphanage in Cheydinhal. Setsuna and I were copying documents, I looked up at her, and she gave me that sweet smile that melted my heart. I flicked a bit of ink onto the tip of her nose, she giggled.

“Sethy! I’m bored!” she cried out.

I laughed. “Shh. Or else the Priest will make us clean up the stables! You wanna touch horse doody?”

”EEeeewwwwWW. Gross!”

She looked at me with her red eyes, filled with all the love in the world.

“When are we gonna get outta here? I want to see the world already!”

”The world isn’t as great a place as you think it is Sets, there are a lot of things out there that could hurt you.”

“No they won’t, I my big brother to protect me!”

I smiled, and took her in my arms, tickling her.

“Yes, you do. I promise I will never let anyone hurt you Setsuna!”

I awoke in a cold sweat.

I promise I will never let anyone hurt you.

My head ached, and I felt tears welling up in my eyes. The world had become a cruel place indeed. Was I contributing to it? Or was I taking it away piece by piece?

No matter. The time was soon coming when our war would depend on a single battle, a single decision. Where would my loyalties lie? Whom would I choose? The hardest part was not knowing of Setsuna´s choices. Could I forgive her for joining the Dark Brotherhood?

I spent the next week with Goren polishing my skills; he called me a ‘master of marksman and short blade’ and an ‘expert’ in the martial arts. I reworked the philosophies of the Shadow into my focus.

Remember, the mind is the source of all true power. Of Steel Wielders, Spell Slingers and Shadow stalkers, this is the one unifying thread that leads to victory or death. There is no claymore so powerful, no spell so destructive, and no footstep so silent, that a proper tactician cannot foresee all things in his path and work them to his advantage.

Learn to think ahead further than you ever thought possible. Think like your enemy, become your enemies mind. Do not hold hatred for him in your heart, this only serves to confuse you. Respect your enemy; never underestimate his abilities or his thirst for vengeance. Show no mercy when the time to strike is in proper accordance with the plan. Follow these words, and no foe shall ever strike you down. Though you never unsheathe your blade, legions of men will fall a hundred miles away because you wished it so.

I opened my eyes from my meditation; peace had come to me at last once more. There was clarity in my path. And I had to see this through, in spite of what I may have thought before, this was all the culmination of my own actions. I could blame the Dark Brotherhood, but that only gave them power over me, if I took anything less then full responsibility, I was powerless.

I had to plan out my next move. As a Master of the Morag Tong, I had extended privileges, and access to information, more and more the guilds actions became my own. All over Vvardenfell the guild acted in unison to exterminate our enemies, and now it had seemed that the final solution was to be enacted.

“In Ald Sotha, a Daedric shrine to the northwest of Vivec has been the base of operations for the Night Mother herself. Kill Severia Magia, leader of the force that has plagued us for all these weeks.” Eno’s voice and demeanor was strict and militaristic. Finally knowing her location had brought out the Mers steely resolve.

“It is possible that Setsuna herself may even be there Sethyas. I...I don’t know what to say if you find her, I will entrust you to deal with the situation as you see fit. This is a family affair, so long as she does not harm a guild member. Should you die however, so shall she….”

I nodded, knowing that the situation was about to resolve itself one way or another, I prepared myself both mentally and physically. Ensuring that all my gear was in top shape, I headed for the shrine under the cover of the twin moons, the dark armor swallowing any light.

And once more, I found myself outside a Daedric shrine, the entrance to this one surrounded by water. Entering was the familiar sensation of low lighting and cold air. This shrine was larger then any other I had encountered, and the denizens of Daedra seemed numerous. Sticking to the shadows, and firing poisoned arrows I was able to kill all of them in silence.

As I descended deeper into the shrine, I could sense that my mark was close. Indeed, I heard footsteps pacing back and forth, into a makeshift office or lair of some sort. And standing there as though waiting for me, was a beautiful Imperial Woman, dressed in a black leather armor I had never seen before.

Not knowing whether she had detected me or not yet, I took no chances with this one. This target was the most important of all my Writs and special duties. This was the Night Mother of the Dark Brotherhood. The head of the snake that I would grind beneath my heel.

Wasting no time, I fired several shots at the dark lady, some arrows hitting there mark, others she dodged effortlessly, I casted invisibility, and silently ran toward her glass Jinkblade drawn. She looked at the ground carefully where my feet were, and with ease, she reached out a leather gauntleted hand and grabbed me by the throat. The spell fizzled, and she reached with her other hand twisting my wrist, my glass blade falling out of my hand.

Holding me secure with a brute strength, she picked up the blade, and stabbed my thigh with it, I fell still, seemingly unable to move.

”Ah, now that you’re nice and secure, we can chat a bit before I kill you….” She ripped off the dark mask. “..Black Hand of Mephala….Sethyas Velas. You were a fool to come after me; did you really think a Morag Tong has the cruelty to face the boss of the Dark Brotherhood?”

Pulling out the real Jinkblade that I had switched with my regular glass dagger right after I had casted invisibility with Mephala’s Gift, I surprised her with my real speed, instead of holding back as I had, and stabbed her left arm with my right hand, the razor sharp glass edge easily biting through her leather armor, and the enchantment paralyzing her.

“That’s the problem with you Sithis worshippers. You think it’s about cruelty, heartlessness. No, it’s about guile, the ability to outwit your prey. We are hunters, but our prey is human. The only time when ruthlessness is necessary, is when it comes time to remove you from existence.” I said as I unsheathed my Daedric katana, and brought it down on a ferocious down swing to her neck.

I smiled, and fell to my knees in relief.

I had killed her.

The war was over.

The only thing left was to mop up a few pockets of resistance, find any other Dark brotherhood assassins in Vvardenfell, and see to it that a message was sent. No Dark brother may set foot on Vvardenfell and live.

Indeed, along with a pair of Daedric Tanto’s on Severia’s person, I did find three Sanguine Tokens. As well as three more on a Dagon Cultist deeper within the shrine, dispatched by her own Lords Razor.

And now I would be free to find Setsuna, and reunite with her at last.

However, on my way up the final leg of the stairs, I became increasingly aware of something that I had sensed from the beginning of entering this place, a shadow, a faint wind, something I had sensed had been following me. Bu it was nothing I could see.

Then, right before I reached out to open the door to leave Ald Sotha, a shadow extended from my left with a speed that did not leave me time to react. A sharp pain filled my gut, and a powerful poison wracked its way through my system, I fell to my knees once more, but this time in weakness, in pain. The already dark shrine became darker, as I felt the sharp pain leave my stomach.

I looked up into a pair of beautiful red eyes that I had not seen in many months. Her hair in a stick twist style, and the strange black leather armor hugged her every curve.

I smiled. “I love you, Setsuna.” I said weakly as the world faded away around me…..

On to the next chapter