Dark Brotherhood Contracts

A man in pyjamas wanders into the stone-made kitchen of the Understone Keep. A dry throat in the middle of the night is the worst. Rubbing his eyes, he groggily looks around the kitchen. Pots hang over a spit while some meats are hung up to dry. A table stands in the farthest corner with a large jug seated on top of it.

 The man reaches for it, pouring cold water that tastes slightly of iron into his mouth and gulping it down to soothe his throat. Placing the jug back on the table, he turns his foot to go back to his quarters when a rough fabric is placed over his mouth and nose, a foreign smell invading his nostrils and throat. Lifting his hands and placing them over the hand holding the cloth, he tries to pull it off of him. His assailant's hand stays firm in its placement while they also evade his sight by turning with him. He reaches behind him to grab at anything of theirs, his hands reaching nothing. His eyes tear up as the smell begins to sting his sinuses and his vision becomes blurrier than before. His hands go limp and fall to his sides as he loses consciousness.

 Opening his eyes he stares down at his lap, his legs obviously restrained with the rope visible. The knots didn't look difficult to undo but as he reaches for them he realises he wouldn't be able to untie them anyway. Rope binds his wrists together as well, leaving him with very little movement.

 He looks around the room, vision still blurry but clear enough to see the shapes around him. Small candles burn dim lights in the corners of the room, with tall shadows between them. A light shoots from the shadow directly in front of the man and lands between his feet, lighting another candle. Looking back to the shadow, legs can be seen but nothing above the waist is visible.

 "You're finally awake." A voice calls out. The man squints into the darkness but can't make anything out. "I didn't think it would take that long." The voice belongs to a female, or a thin framed man that can masterfully disguise his voice.

 "Who- who are you?" The man's voice comes out a croaking whisper.

 "Who is the gourmet?"

 Silence. The man stares down at the candle between his feet.

 "The Gourmet..? Why would I know who that is?" He continues to stare at the candle, it's flame dancing gently.

 "Don't play dumb with me Anton." his hidden attacker softens their voice. "Don't get me wrong, everyone is entitled to their privacy. However I'm in need of his name, and while his book doesn't carry his, it does carry yours."

 A book slides across the room, hitting the candle and knocking the burning wax to the floor. Anton looks at the page it's open to.

 'To my dear friend, Anton.'

 Fear enters his mind. "That must be a different Anton."

 "It says 'Virane family' in there too, 'dear friend Anton.'" Her taunt is obvious.

 Staring down at the book once more he spots his family name.

 "Listen, I can't tell you what I don't know." Just keep pretending to not know anything, they'll believe it soon. He looks up and watches the shadows his kidnapper hides in. A giggle sounds from all corners of the room and their voice turns bittersweet.

 "I could bleed it out of you, if you'd prefer." A leg clad in dark leather moves further out, and Anton watches as the rest of the body pushes itself out of the shadows. Slamming his eyelids shut he yells.

 "Wait!"

 Opening one eye slightly, he only sees a foot poking out. He breathes a sigh of relief and breathes slowly as he speaks.

 "The man you're looking for is an Orc that goes by the name of Balagog gro-Nolob."

 He looks down at the candle again. Silence surrounds him.

 "And where can I find him?" his assailant's voice begins to sound as if it's growing impatient.

 "O-oh! Right! You can find him at the Nightgate Inn, i-it's very close to here." Unless we're nowhere near Markarth...

 "Don't tell him about this little visit of ours," The voice sounds from behind him and his body perks up from the surprise. "I won't bother you ever again." A pair of hands rest on his shoulders.

 "What are you goi-" A rag covers his mouth again, but he doesn't fight it this time. Tightly closing his eyes, his head falls back as his consciousness fades.

 "It's too late to be curious."

 Groggily opening his eyes, Anton looks around and sees that he's back in his bed in Understone Keep. It's afternoon and the other cooks flit around him, taking care of their duties and allowing him to sleep in.

 Sitting up he holds his head in his hands. That was a dream. Right..?

He coughs lightly into his arm, then shakes the feeling away and stands with the other cooks that buzz around the kitchen, checking that the vegetables are chopped properly and that tonight's broth's ingredients are clean.

 The light filtering into the Keep softens, telling the cooks that it's time to start dinner. Lifting the largest pot they have over the spit, he coughs into his arm. Hard.

 "You should rest, it sounds like you're coming down with something." a female chef chirps. "You were coughing in your sleep earlier too."

 "It's just a dry throat, focus on your work." Anton coughs into his sleeve again, this time leaving splotches of blood.

 "Just a dry throat, he says." the male chef chimes in. "Get back to work." He ignores Anton's glare.

 "Rondach!" he coughs as he finishes the name, but doesn't cover his mouth this time. Blood spills onto the floor, splattering back up onto his clothing. All three stare at the blood on the floor. Rondach looks up at Anton's face and watches as blood drips from it, little by little and then a lot.

Anton tries to breathe but gurgles on blood instead. Scratching at his throat, the female chef screams and Rondach runs out of the room. He falls to his knees, still scratching at his throat, until his hands go limp and the rest of his body hits the floor. The woman screams again, and guards rush into the room with Rondach close behind them. He runs to the woman's side and shields her eyes, holding her close as the guards inspect Anton's lifeless body.

"I got a letter here." Footsteps sound behind them and a courier pokes his head into the room only to see a dead man. "Ah! How... unsightly.." Nervously clearing his throat he speaks again. "I'm looking for Anton Virane." He reaches into his bag and pulls out a note.

The female chef points to Anton and the courier opens the parcel, a violet flower slipping out of it.

"It's blank."

-------

You listen to the crunching of snow beneath your feet as you make your way to the small dock overlooking the lake. It's quiet outside, maybe you can actually think today.

Stepping onto the deck your footsteps turn to creaks in the wood and the sound of snow crunching behind you catches your attention. Turning your head you spot a young girl, her hair catching snow in it and a slight look of fright in her wide eyes.

"Is it okay if I join you?" a small voice squeaks out.

Studying her face it doesn't look like she has any other intentions.

"Fine, but I'm not in the mood to speak with strangers."

You turn towards the lake and listen to the boards creak under her weight as she steps up next to you.

"That's okay, I'm just here for the view." You can hear her smile.

Sunlight reflects off of Lake Yorgrim, exploding into small sparkles and causing the body of water to shimmer. Small ripples make their way through it, only making it more glittery. You watch as the colours slowly change from pale yellows and blues to rich reds and oranges. In the midst of it all, you realise what time it is.

Turning around, you feel something hook around your foot, causing you to lose balance and fall into the lake.

The cold water stings and you can feel as it soaks the clothing you put on this morning. Moving your arms, you move toward the surface. Finding air, you shake your head and water droplets fly away from you, sprinkling into the cold lake.

Opening your eyes you see the girl is still there, she looks to be both surprised and concerned. You watch as she gets onto her knees and reaches a hand out to you, a soft smile forming on her lips. Your cheeks flood red with embarrassment.

"You didn't see that."

"I didn't see anything." she whispers.

You feel relief, and reluctantly take hold of her hand. You watch as her soft smile turns to a sinister laugh. It shocks you. Her hand.

Electricity surges throughout your body, sparks rippling all around you. It wouldn't hurt as much if you weren't drenched and surrounded by water. Did she trip you?

She continues to hold your hand, making sure to not let go. Your vision gets blurry, distorted. Unable to hold onto your consciousness, you give in.

The girls' face softens as she feels your hand go limp. Waiting for the sparks to settle before touching your body, she holds a blade underneath your nose. You're not breathing. She positions your body so your face is underwater and pushes it away from the deck. Watching as your corpse drifts further and further away from her, she places a nightshade in a cup and walks away.