The two fresh blooded assassin's walked through to the sanctuary, answering the door and opening it as it squeaked a solid creaking sound. It was late at night, and most of the assassins were either out filling contracts or asleep. No one else knew what the Listener and Yelor were up to, silently sneaking out to take action against the Stormcloaks.
"Where do we head now, Listener?" Yelor whispered, passing snoring bodies on furred beds.
"We plan our next onslaught. I'm thinking, next time, we attack the Pale Camp, dead south from here." she smiled.
Yelor gazed at her with wide eyes, rather speechless.
"Listener, if you don't mind me saying, that it is no easy task!" he pleaded, still in a hissing whisper. "Our assault on that patrol would've spread like wild fire. Every Stormcloak in Pale will be high alert!" they walked past the dormitories, and into the main dining area. "And now you say you want to make an assault on the Pale Camp by ourselves?! We maybe good, Listener, but there is a limit to what we can do!" his voice raised more towards the end as they came away from where everyone slept.
She only grinned back at him, grabbing a quill from an ink well on a table.
"Pass me a bit of paper." she asked, holding out her hand and not turning to him. He grabbed a blank roll of tough paper, thick like card. She took it gladly and started scratch and scribble on the paper, the feather on the quill wiggling and wobbling. Yelor looked over her shoulder.
"Who-... Who are you writing to?" he muttered doubtfully. The Listener didn't answer him, too immersed. "Listener?"
She then snapped at him with an even more creepy snigger.
"Let's just say... old friends of ours." she chuckled, twisting back to the letter. Yelor raised an eyebrow.
"Who would that be? The Penitus Oculatus?"
The Listener slowly turned around to him, moving like a cog, her smile wiped away.
"No..." she then turned back. Yelor hesitated to speak out again after the stare he was given, but he shallowly asked once more.
"Who then...?" he murmured.
The Listener twisted around again, tickling his nose with the feather.
"Another clue for you, nosey:" she teased, "Nocturnal has some unfinished business with Sithis."
Yelor's face still looked confused, inquisitive and jumbled.
"Nocturnal?... How is that Daedric Prince got anything to do with this?"
"You'll find out..."