The Dark Brotherhood wants to send Kisha and Vara-do, as well as Tanek and Kor, on missions to Kvatch. Dark Brotherhood business is always a nice break from war. Vara-do’s life is a simple one, comparatively. If Astara thinks four assassins are necessary for this mission, who am I to argue? Still, this contract is Kisha’s, technically, and the rest of us are just there to provide assistance. I don’t know why they’re giving them all to her specifically, but I’m not going to argue it.


    Our target is someone with the ridiculous title of Grand Sermonizer, of the Order of the Hour. Just the name makes me want to stab them in the face.


    I insist on saving time by teleporting us there. We arrive in Kvatch and after a little investigating, we determine that the Grand Sermonizer is at an estate just outside of Kvatch. Blue-and-gold banners marked with hourglass symbols hang outside the manor.


    “The priests around here certainly seem to have a lot of wealth to throw around,” Ilara comments. “This one would like to enforce a vow of poverty upon them.”


    We emerge out onto a walkway. In the room below, two figures are standing near a table where a man has been pinned with knives. I barely recognize the man as one of the other assassins, Cimbar, underneath the blood and bruises. I throw a Blinky Heal down at him without giving a shit if it gives away our position, and leap over the railing.


    My companions follow my lead, and after a brief fight, our quarry stuns up with bright light and makes a tactical withdrawal further into the manor.


    “Vara-do will take care of Cimbar,” I say. “Go!”


    “We’ll meet you back at the wayshrine,” Tanek says.


    Once Ilara and Tanek (Kor hasn’t caught up to us yet) have gone after the Grand Sermonizer, I bring out my communication orb and order up a healer.


    A portal opens and a Khajiit woman steps through. One look at Cimbar and she says, “Jone and Jode, this one’s bad.”


    “Vara-do did what he could to keep him alive until he could get help but he’s afraid he healed those knives inside of him.”


    She shakes her head as she carefully starts to get to work. “Ezreba can re-heal them, though they’ll probably scar badly. You gave him some time at least. They didn’t touch the important bits. They were clearly trying to keep him alive.” She sighs. “Ezreba studied with the moon priests to learn Restoration magic, but this is worse than anything she has faced yet.”


    “Do your best,” I say. “This one can assist with Restoring Light.”


    “Is it safe to remain here?” Ezreba asks.


    “This one can assist with stabbing anyone that shows up, too,” I say.


    Kor shows up not long after. “My job ran long, did I–that’s Cimbar! They tortured him?” He looks to Ezreba. “Who is this? Not another new initiate already?”


    Ezreba shakes her head, and doesn’t look up from her work. “Ezreba is a friend. She is no killer, but she can help with healing them. Cimbar will not be going to the Void today.”


    I didn’t realize she’d been told that much about what I’m doing. Or that she’s okay with it.


    “Thank Sithis,” Kor says. “I’m glad to have you, then. Where are Kisha and Tanek?”


    “They went to hunt down the Grand Sermonizer,” I say, pointing to the door. “If you hurry, you might still catch them. They probably have this well in hand, though.”


    “Ezreba can’t believe a priest would resort to torture,” the Khajiit says.


    “I’d best make sure they don’t need any backup, at least,” Kor says, and exits through the door..


    “Does the rest of the support team know about the assassin business?” I ask.


    “Of course,” Ezreba says. “We all have faith that wherever you go and whoever you kill, Nirn will be better off for it.” She carefully removes another knife from Cimbar’s body, healing the wound as she goes to stop him from bleeding out. “And if you’re going up against so-called priests who do things like this to people, even assassins, Ezreba has no reason to doubt your cause. At least assassins kill cleanly, unlike those foul cultists.”


    While I’m not sure about letting so many people know about my secret identity, I trust my hunt-wife’s judgment. She’s not the sort of person who would murder her husband to make herself a god. I mean… I didn’t think my former friends were that sort of people either. But there were signs I should have seen, in perfect hindsight. Still, I’d rather love and trust my wives and risk being fucked over again, than be paranoid and never let anyone get close.


    Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Cimbar regains consciousness with only one knife remaining stuck in his body, and lets out a pained groan.


    “Tch, you should have stayed asleep a little longer,” Ezreba says. “This one will be done soon.”


    “Who…” Cimbar’s eyes fall upon me. “Vara-do? You came to rescue me?”


    “To be honest, we didn’t even know you were here,” I say. “We came after the Grand Sermonizer. Once you’re capable of walking, we’ll head back to the Sanctuary.”


    We explain again who Ezreba is, and finish healing him as much as we can here. I ask him to step outside first, then call in my looters. There’s probably less wealth here than the Jarol Estate or the Ayleid ruin the Gold Coast had their crap in, but it’s still a perfectly good manor to strip to the floorboards. I meet up with Cimbar outside.


    “You just left her in there?” Cimbar asks.


    “No,” I say. “This one sent her home.” I pause. “And called in his loyal crew of portal pirates to loot the place. It would be criminal to leave behind perfectly good loot.”


    Cimbar laughs, then coughs. “Ugh, laughing hurts.”


    “Sorry, Vara-do is out of magicka,” I say. “He still has potions if you need one.”


    “You and your friend have done more than enough,” Cimbar says. “You put me back together when I would’ve died. I’m eager to get back to the Sanctuary, though. I might need to sit missions out for a while.”


    We meet up with the others, and I return us to the wayshrine near the Sanctuary.


    “You look like hell, Cimbar,” Tanek says. “But still better than we found you.”


    Kor looks to me. “How did you ever find a friendly Khajiit priestess willing to heal assassins?”


    I shrug. “She wasn’t always a moon priestess. She once did something incredibly stupid and this one saved her life. She would have been executed otherwise.”


    “Ah,” Kor says. “That explains it!”


    Back at the Sanctuary, there’s a loud and messy debriefing.


    “Cimbar!” Mirabelle exclaims, running over to him. “Oh, my darling Cimbar, what happened? Come, you should lay down. Let me get you something to drink.”


    Cimbar staggers off to be doted over, leaving the rest of us to explain how Astara sent four assassins to Kvatch and we came back with five. (I mean, I assume she sent Cimbar to Kvatch too at an earlier time, but he wasn’t with us.)


    We’re congratulated and paid, and everyone is suitably enraged at Cimbar’s treatment. (Aside from Speaker Terenus and Green-Venom-Tongue, who are probably deeply unhappy about the situation but don’t show visible rage.) These mad priests were trying to torture the location of the Dark Brotherhood’s Sanctuary out of him, and he didn’t break. Kor’s promising to buy him a large quantity of Nord alcoholic beverages for that. Not many here who aren’t Nords truly appreciate that offer.


    Once everything’s settled down for the moment, I absently wander around the Sanctuary, thinking to myself, and run across a Dark Elf woman I haven’t seen before (not that I can see much of her face with the mask she’s wearing) who introduces herself as Nevusa.


    “Hmm, perhaps it is you that the Listener told me to expect?” Nevusa muses.


    “Me?” I ask. “What does the Listener want with Vara-do?”


    “The Listener sent me with a book,” Nevusa points to a lectern beneath a creepy statue. “The Litany of Blood. She said it is for the eyes of the one who has tasted death. I assume she means someone who has died and returned to life rather than someone who has merely killed, which would apply to everyone here.”


    “Hmm,” I say.


    “Many of the others here have already looked at it and seen nothing but blank pages,” Nevusa says. “If you are the one it is meant for, you may see something more.”


    “It’s worth a look, yes?” I say, more offhandedly than I’m feeling as I go over to open the book.


    The pages are not blank.


    “From beyond death’s prison, I offer those who meet my unshriven gaze with your blade’s cold caress,” I read the book aloud in a soft whisper, my hands starting to shake involuntarily as I skim over what appears to be a list of riddles identifying targets.


    “Unshriven gaze”, the book says. Like someone who was Soul-Shriven and is no longer. That’s a very specific requirement. And that the Listener knew to send a book that could only be read by an “Unshriven” to this Sanctuary. Or every Sanctuary, just to be sure? It’s still weirdly worrisome. She might not know who I was specifically, but they were clearly expecting me specifically.


    I walk back over to Nevusa and say, “This one can read the book.”


    I might be giving something big away here, but whoever the Listener is, there isn’t much point in trying to hide from her. I really, really want to meet her, though. I also want to find out how they managed to create a book that can only be read by a former Soul Shriven because that would be a really useful thing to do with my journals. I describe roughly what the book contains for Nevusa’s benefit, who I assume also can’t read it and wasn’t told exactly what it contains.


    “You may take the book with you to guide you as you seek out the targets,” Nevusa says.


    I do so obligatorily, deciding not to mention that I have already memorized it and it’s unnecessary. I think I might need to copy out the riddles and ask Grishka for help in this one. Some of them don’t make terribly much sense to me, but I’m sure we’ve got someone on hand who is good at riddles. The book also mentions targets all across Tamriel, to many places I have never been and do not yet have easy access to.


    So, what does the Listener know? That there’s a former Soul-Shriven who has escaped their prison running around. Nothing more. There was no reason to think either Vara-do or King Neri was such a person, specifically. She surely doesn’t know that this person is actually Nerevar Mora.


    The Night Mother might know.


    It suddenly occurs to me that Malacath stated that my ring would specifically guard me from the Aedra, Daedra, and Tribunal. The Night Mother is none of those, nor is Sithis. (I’ve run across theories that the Night Mother is actually Mephala, but I don’t believe that. I know what Mephala’s touch looks like, and this isn’t it. If anything, she’d be Nocturnal, and I doubt that also.)


    I think I don’t terribly mind if Sithis, the Night Mother, or even the Listener know who I am on any level. They don’t play politics and would not betray me to the Three. If anything, they would encourage me.


    “I don’t suppose there’s any chance of actually meeting the Listener?” I ask.


    “I cannot say,” Nevusa says. “But perhaps if you were to complete the Litany of Blood, you might find out.”


    I absently wonder if she’s secretly the Listener herself, but I don’t ask. If she is, I’d rather not force her to deflect and there’s nothing to be gained by a confrontation right now. Let’s play this game her way and see where this leads.