Fate of the Assassins

Blythe, a young Nord woman, just arived in Windhelm to join up with the Stormcloaks when she heard the whispers in Candlehearth Hall. A boy? Contacting the Dark Brotherhood? Dangerously futile! She had too see for herself, make sure the Brotherhood stayed away from the city walls. Little she knew how much more trouble she would encounter in this than being a Stormcloak.

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6. With Friends Like These…

Many days passed by, but Blythe didn't join up with the Stormcloaks yet. She spent that time held up in the inn, drinking away the worries that the other Assassins were causing.

All the commotion and trouble and death and sorrows in the world had been caused by the Dark Brotherhood and yet, no one tried to stop them.

All the problems in the world weren't being solved by drinking away all the mead in the tankard, let alone the inn, but what else was she supposed to do? Blythe had no way of contacting the Dark Brotherhood, except for the Black Sacrament, but Blythe didn't want anyone killed; she wanted the exact opposite, which was to keep people safe and alive.

After her third drink, she was really hammered, though she felt okay enough to walk. The innkeeper had her escorted to a room for the night, but she refused to sleep in the unmade room.

Forty minutes after just sitting around on the bed, the innkeeper asserted herself in the room with a letter from a courier, the writer unknown.

Blythe took it, reluctantly, hoping it wasn't going to be a Letter of Inheritance and that her parents were dead; thank Arkay that it wasn't that, but something else. Something just as equally as bad as the death of her parents; a letter from the Dark Brotherhood. Known only because Blythe saw the Black Hand once before when being taught about it by her parents, the handprint was also accompanied by two words that sent shivers through her spine; We know.

Blythe didn't feel like being conscious for long anymore, after reading that note that made her sick to the core. Her body ached from all the pain that she still felt from killing an innocent old lady, so Blythe laid down on the bed and slowly drifted into a deep sleep.

When she awoke, her vision was slightly blurry and Blythe was no longer in the inn. Where am I? She slowly tilted her head up and rubbed her eyes before being faced with a figure of a person sitting atop of a dusty old bookshelf.

"Nice to see that you're finally awake..." A female voice speaks from beneath her cowl.

Blythe was confused, "Wha - where am I?" She stuttered out her thoughts, trying to contain her confidence.

"Confidential; but wouldn't you rather want to know why?" Her booming voice echoed through the room; Blythe nodded, "You took a contract that was meant for the Dark Brotherhood, my brotherhood. For that, you must pay. There are three captives tied up to the left of you; a contract was put up on one of them and you have to guess which one it is by killing any of them or all of them."

Rage boiled through the Nord; this monster wanted her to kill another innocent person. Blythe couldn't go through the drinking and guilt again, after what happened the first time. Blythe stood up from her position once the assassin was finished explaining what she no longer paid attention to. Blythe withdrew her lucky dagger and took cautious steps towards the woman; she didn't moved the entire time.

One word slipped sharply from Blythe's tongue before she plunged the dagger in the figure's mid-chest, "No."

She smiled weakly before speaking in a pained voice, "Well…done." And that was that; Blythe killed the leader of the Dark Brotherhood.

Before looting her body throughly to get through the locked door, Blythe untied each of the captives that were in place of were she spoke of. They each thanked the Nord before following Blythe out of the abandoned shack and running towards the closest city; Solitude.

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