An unusual request has come to the Dark Brotherhood, and it’s an interesting one. And it has fallen squarely in Vara-do’s lap for once.


    The Pirate Queen Fortunata has performed the Black Sacrament and has requested to meet the assassin to be taking on the contract. And Matron Astara has heard about the unusual way Vara-do and Kisha handle our affairs sometimes.


    “I’ve heard you’re a master of disguise,” Astara says. “I don’t want to compromise the identity of our Brothers and Sisters, and you’re the best one to become someone that doesn’t have to keep existing afterward.”


    “Hmm, perhaps this one should not be a dancing girl this time,” I say. “How about…” I switch to the all-concealing version of the Dark Brotherhood leathers that I had made up after realizing the hood didn’t cover enough of the face, and put on my best Imperial accent. (Actually an imitation of Speaker Terenus.) “Greetings. I am Silencius, the most generic assassin ever.”


    “Perfect,” Astara says flatly. “There’s no telling who Fortunata might want dead. It could be anything from a minor noble who offended her to a certain upstart pirate assassin. Note, if she asks her to kill yourself, don’t. I still have work for you, and one can’t take out contracts against members of the Dark Brotherhood.”


    Astara probably suspects I’m not really a Khajiit by this point, but doesn’t seem to care terribly much.


    I head over to Anvil and get Ilara to watch my back from the shadows. Just in case. It offends my senses to simply walk in the gates of Anvil Castle dressed up like an assassin. There’s no style to it. It would give completely the wrong impression. So instead I dress up like a servant and head in through the kitchen carrying a barrel of poisoned ale. And so long as I’m here, I slip a little something into the other barrels as well. (It’s just sleeping poison. No one will know the difference. Why waste the opportunity?)


    I find a suitable corner to swap clothes in out of sight, and approach the throne where Fortunata is flanked by a half-naked man and a white lion lounging on the floor. She’s got one leg slung over an arm of the throne, and a golden goblet probably full of something expensive in hand. Clearly, she’s enjoying having her own castle.


    She doesn’t know who I am, but she figures it out quickly. The obvious leather armor should be obvious before I even open my mouth.


    “Fortunata ap Dugal,” I drawl. “I understand you have need of our… services. You may call me… Silencius.”


    She tries not to act intimidated, but a catch in her voice betrays that she finds the over-the-top creepy assassin act to be creepy.


    Fortunata wants me to murder someone named Marcus Scipio in Kvatch, and then tell Count Carolus I killed him. Pretty much the opposite of subtle, really. A power play on her part, that she can make anyone dead for the right price. I have no idea how much she paid for this.


    Castle Kvatch, as we discover when we arrive there, is locked down tight-ish and we’d require an official seal or document to get inside. The front door, at least. According to rumor, however, there’s a side door at the end of the moat. That’s great. That’ll save us having to climb the walls and try to get in through a tower hatch or second floor window.


    When I actually find the door in question, I have to wonder why it even exists. It’s set into a nook that isn’t visible from the other side of the moat, behind a tree and overgrown with ivy, and is only accessible by swimming. You’d think a servant’s entrance would have a way to get carts up to it or something, but this doesn’t even have room to moor a boat.


    “This one thinks this is very strange,” Ilara says. “Do you agree, dear brother?”


    “Very much agreed,” I say.


    The door leads into a tiny room with a hatch leading down into a tunnel with ankle deep water. Past that, at the top of a staircase, is a hole in the wall as if someone very carefully removed stone bricks and put in a secret passage behind a wardrobe.


    “Well,” I murmur. “This particular gaping security hole is good to know about. Kisha, scout the area and stay out of sight. Also steal anything that looks valuable and someone might not immediately notice it missing. We probably aren’t going to be taking over this castle today, so we might as well swipe a few valuables while we’re here.”


    We split up and search the castle. Along the way, I keep half my focus on my music, still trying to keep it more than quiet. I think of how the Dwemer canceled noise not by actually stopping the noise but by making a sound that perfectly matched it in opposition. I don’t quite know what that means or how to do that, precisely, but it’s worth practicing just to see if I can get anything from it.


    I eventually find the Commander’s office. He’s inside, hunched over a map, not even paying attention to the door behind him. I pause just out of sight, and consider whether I think he’s liable to give me a good fight or not.


    Does it matter, though? I’m not here to give a show, gloat at him, intimidate him, or prove anything. I’m just here to kill him. I’m just offended by it being too easy. That’s the realization that hurts more than anything else. It’s hard to top punching a Daedric Prince. I’m probably going to need to find more ridiculous things to fight just to keep from being bored, but today, that doesn’t matter. At least sneaking around playing assassin has been fun.


    Marcus continues to have a complete lack of situational awareness, until he has a lack of awareness at all. Once he’s dead, I cross paths with Ilara who quietly informs me where I can find the Count’s office. And that she found something weird there but I have to see it for myself. I make my way over there and discover that Count Carolus is performing the Black Sacrament.


    “Sweet Mother, Sweet Mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear…”


    Carolus chants in the middle of a circle of candles, over bones and a heart. He spots me coming in and looks up, and I look like the most generic assassin ever. He, of course, reasonably thinks I’m here because he’s been performing the Black Sacrament every night. And he’s offering not only gold in payment, but information about a threat to the Dark Brotherhood.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    As for who he wants dead, it should probably go without saying that he considers Fortunata to be the greatest threat to the continued wellbeing of himself and his people.


    “Your reasons are your own,” I drawl. “It is not for me to say what good or ill may come of it. However… I did not come here to take your contract.”


    “Oh no,” Carolus says. “Did she send you to kill me?”


    “No,” I say. “Though if I were, would you have preferred to see me and speak with me first… or to simply be dead and have no idea what happened?”


    “I– I don’t know,” Carolus says. “How can anyone answer a question like that? I mean, I suppose an Orc or a Nord would want a chance to fight back, but… Never mind, why are you here, then?”


    “Fortunata contracted me to kill Commander Marcus Scipio, and then inform you of the deed,” I say. “And now I have done so. Neither is it for me to comment on the efficacy of such intimidation tactics. Had you not already been doing so, you might have performed the Black Sacrament in response to her escalation.”


    I don’t get to use words like ‘efficacy’ in conversations with Orcs frequently.


    “That could well be,” Carolus says with a sigh. “She must think I’d be a waste of gold to have killed. Like I’m already useless, damn her. But I can’t just sit back and let her do whatever she wants.” He looks up over toward the far side of the room. “Another one?”


    Speaker Terenus has shown up while I’m speaking with the Count, thankfully. As much as I might fake it, I’m not actually him and it’s better to have someone along who has the authority to handle this. And willingness to do paperwork.


    “The contract is yours… Silencius,” Terenus says. “You may use whatever methods you choose so long as Fortunata dies.” The look he doesn’t give me indicates that definitely includes just sacking the castle. “The quickest way out of this castle is through the secret passage in the dignitary suite.”


    “Does everyone know about that?” Carolus grumbles.


    On the way out, I glance at the correspondence on his desk. Not long enough to make it look like I’m actually reading it, but just enough to stick it into my Library of the Mind and read it at my leisure.


    I take a moment to consider how I’m going to handle this. Anvil is ripe for conquest and once Fortunata is dead, I’m going to need to work quickly and not waste any time before someone else tries to claim the city. Especially another pirate. But if I waste too little time, it will look suspiciously upon the Aldmeri Dominion, and Count Carolus may either think it’s a mere coincidence and that I didn’t perform the deed at all, or that the Dominion is in league with the Dark Brotherhood somehow. Most likely the former. The latter would be silly.


    Maybe I’m just overthinking this. It’s not too much of a stretch that the Dominion has eyes and ears in the city and would be quick to send word along that the current leadership has toppled and to send in troops to take over. I’ve seen Razum-dar in the area.


    Count Carolus might not have thought far enough ahead to care who controls Anvil once Fortunata is dead. Presumably if it winds up being someone worse, he’ll just call up the Dark Brotherhood again and have them also removed, until he runs out of gold or enemies. He’s done it once. How much would it take for him to do it again?


    Ilara and I return to Anvil Castle and run across Mirabelle, who is posing as a servant. Her disguise is a little less thorough than mine, but no less effective since it’s not like Fortunata knows she’s an assassin anyway.


    “I know that armor, but who are you?” Mirabelle whispers, not noticing Ilara-daro. “I hope you have a good reason for approaching me while I’m working.”


    “Who I am is unimportant,” I drawl. “I am here for Fortunata. The Pirate Queen dies today. Tell me, Mirabelle. Have the guards drunk the poisoned refreshments I left them earlier?”


    “Now that you mention it, they have been awfully lethargic today,” Mirabelle says.


    “Excellent,” I say. “Everything is proceeding exactly as planned.”


    This is me, poisoning an entire castle just in case I had to take it over later. If I lay down enough contingencies, people think I actually planned for things.


    “What do you need me to do?” Mirabelle asks.


    I chuckle darkly. “Witness.”


    “I will enjoy watching this,” Mirabelle says with a grin. “And even more, I will enjoy not having to play servant for that bitch any longer, too.”


    We make our way through the castle. There isn’t much point in robbing the place. It will be mine soon anyway. Mirabelle also helpfully pointed out where its secret passages are. And what Fortunata’s favorite wine is. Also good to know!


    Fortunata is in her bed chamber. (Fully clothed, fortunately. Some assassins might get off on killing people mid-coitus, but I’d rather just let them have one last damned orgasm before they die.) She’s surprised to see me there, but realizes that she probably shouldn’t be.


    “Fortunata ap Dugal,” I say slowly, as if tasting the name on my tongue. “The deed is done. Marcus Scipio is no more in this world, and Count Carolus has been informed.”


    “Great,” Fortunata says. “And if that’s all, let’s have a toast and we can put this dreadful business behind us. I can’t imagine if I had to perform that ghoulish ritual on top of it.”


    She leads me out to the balcony and offers me a drink. I decline. Because it’s poisoned and because I can’t reach my mouth under this mask anyway.


    I chuckle darkly, because Silencius always chuckles darkly. “You seek to play this game, Fortunata ap Dugal. You do not understand the game you are playing. The shadows are not your friend nor your servant.”


    “Yes, yes, I get it, I get it,” Fortunata says. “You can stop trying to intimidate me now.”


    The balcony is deadly silent. Not even the sound of the wind and seabirds pierces the oppressive silence I’m focusing on creating. (It winds up being more of a constant drone than actual silence, but it’s still enough to drown out the background noise.) And Fortunata is finally realizing that her favorite wine is no longer her favorite.


    “You–” Fortunata exclaims. “What have you done?”


    “Your coin bought you the death of one man,” I drawl. “Not our loyalty. Goodbye, Fortunata ap Dugal.”


    Fortunata falls off the balcony to her death. I wasn’t sure if the poison alone was going to kill her but standing near a ledge while drinking even sleep-laced wine is not especially healthy. I didn’t even need to push her off.


    “Ah, that felt good,” Mirabelle says. “So now that we don’t have an audience any longer, who are you really? Tanek? You don’t sound like Tanek, and Cimbar’s still recovering.”


    I shift the cat-mask and tail back onto myself. “Bright moons, Mirabelle.”


    “Vara-do?” Mirabelle says. “That I wasn’t expecting. You’re using illusion magic to hide your tail and ears? Very clever. No one would ever guess. Alright. I’ll meet you back at the Sanctuary once I clean up evidence of our involvement here.”


    “Oh, don’t bother,” I say. “This one has it on good authority that there are Dominion spies in the city and a fleet waiting to capture it. Strangely, it seems many of the pirates are indisposed at the moment. The Dominion will pounce at a moment of weakness like a senche stalking its prey.”


    “That makes sense,” Mirabelle says. “Well, they probably can’t do worse here than the Pirate Queen. It’ll still be business as usual for the Dark Brotherhood, though, regardless of who rules the city. We’d best get out of here before they show up.”


    On the way out, I send a signal to be passed along to the ships carrying High Elves, Wood Elves and Orcs from Velyn Harbor and Dra’bul. I have faith in them to take the city with a minimum of bloodshed and to avoid damaging infrastructure as much as possible. We’re here to conquer, not destroy. The eagle banner will be flying over Anvil by sundown.


    Mirabelle and I reach the wayshrine just as sails are converging on the city. “By Sithis, they work fast. Wait, you aren’t a Dominion spy, are you? Were you fiddling with a communication orb back there?”


    I chuckle lightly. “Vara-do could not possibly comment on that.”