It was one of those moments when I regretted not voting against myself, if I had the chance. Certainly, I had nothing against a few friendly card games, but it had been since early morning that Teineeva, Taleandril, and I had been playing while waiting for contracts.
"Game, eight, red, and I win again. Well played, my brothers," Teineeva muttered something and began shuffling the deck. The elf was so humble when she beat us that it became annoying.
As Taleandril was about to select her cards, Vincente entered our quarters. After two days of inactivity, I hoped he had something for me.
"- My brothers, my sister, how are you today? Well? Good. I have a rather unique contract here that will test both your skills as an assassin and a combatant, as there will likely be a formidable opponent. Would any of you three be interested... you, Brother Teineeva?"
The Argonian pondered for a moment, then gave his response.
"- Not really my cup of tea, my brother. I have no doubt in my ability to remain in the shadows, but I am not built for combat; that's Brother Gro-Bolmog's job."
"- Brother Vincente, I'm sorry, but you can probably guess my answer. I am suited for ranged combat and tactical killings, not crude fighting." added Taleandril.
"- Very well, that settles it then. My friend, you seem competent enough with blades to survive this contract. It involves assassinating an old criminal, now aged, leaving Cheydinhal today to flee to another town. The old man was heavily sought in his youth under the name 'Heartbreaker.' He is still actively sought and has to move regularly, although he hasn't committed any crimes in at least thirty years."
I added that criminals always had the most ridiculous nicknames, but mainly that I didn't see any problem with this contract; killing an innocent old man didn't pose any issue for me.
"Alright, for the past twenty years, Heartbreaker has had a bodyguard, an adopted child. He has become an exceptional warrior and a rarity, a Redguard with pale skin and smooth hair, ready to fight the world to protect his master whom he loves more than anything. He, on the other hand, will put up quite a fight. They will be leaving the city in two hours and you'll find them at the tavern in the meantime."
How could I refuse? I particularly enjoyed humiliating those who thought of themselves as vigilantes. The more they loved their master, the harder they would fall.
Vincente congratulated me on my wise choice and invited me to consult Teineeva and Taleandril for further information. Teineeva sighed and spoke up.
"- Yes, that's right, Heartbreaker. A bad memory for me. His bodyguard, whose name I don't even know, gave me a good beating two years ago in Anvil when he was only in his twenties. Details? Well, then... I don't have much to say about Heartbreaker, he's a very old man haunted by his criminal past. But his knight... The moment I tried to go after his master, I only had time to see a silvery gleam before falling into a coma. That was my luck. The street was empty, and I could make it back with a terrible headache. He's a formidable opponent, be certain of that. But we're in Cheydinhal, and that's a significant advantage. How? You can't guess? It's quite obvious, actually. The Count of Cheydinhal is aware of our existence, but he will never reveal it to anyone. He's far too afraid. He would even deny it vehemently if we were to provide him with a small, let's say... service in return for his good deeds."
I had gathered enough information, and it seemed the Argonian hadn't retained much else. I then turned to Taleandril.
"- It's fortunate that you're asking me, my brother. I had a stash of throwing knives just waiting to be taken, along with combat chains, if you're interested."
The combat chains were hidden within the sleeves and could be launched from the ends of the arms at the edges of the costume. They were perfect for catching an opponent from a distance and drawing them closer, for instance.
"Is the poison in the needle of your poison ring recharged? Oh, and didn't you ask for something that could freeze blood? Well, try this. It's just a trial version, so don't test it in a combat situation."
The Bosmer gave me these translucent heart-shaped discs and explained that they froze whatever they touched upon impact. I only had three of them. I wasn't too fond of magical items for throwing, but it might be worth it.
"- Oh, and one last thing. I know you won't like it, but I would ask you to wear your hood this time, along with a full cloak. Don't look at me like that, I'm well aware that you find it aesthetically displeasing, but to hell with beauty. Your face needs to be seen as little as possible if you still want to leave the sanctuary. Your reputation begins to precede you after all"
I sighed and pulled up my hood, which, once in place, cast my face in shadow and made it impossible to distinguish.
"Now, with Sithis's protection, my brother, and good luck."
I left the sanctuary and headed towards the tavern at the edge of the city.
It was a fairly pleasant and typical place, with the burly bartender cleaning his dirty glasses while telling stories, a pianist rehearsing the same tunes, and an unattractive dancer moving on stage without much belief.
The room was filled with various customers, drinking to forget their troubles, toasting to the ladies, toasting to fortune, to lost love...
And at the back, two figures wearing gray cloaks that completely hid their bodies and faces. Trying to be discreet, they stood out the most. I strode purposefully towards their table, pushing people aside, nocked an arrow, aimed at the smaller hooded figure, and loosed three arrows, causing the dancer to scream as she witnessed the scene.
"- Look out, Lord Marsha!"
The second hooded figure extended their arm, and the arrows embedded themselves in it just before they struck the one I was aiming for. The commotion in the bar became deafening, some shouted, "A FIGHT, A FIGHT!", while others acted as if nothing had happened.
I lowered my bow and looked at the hooded figure who had taken my arrows in the arm. They stood up from their chair and swept their cape aside in a single motion, which had the effect of momentarily blinding me.
"Are you alright, Lord Marsha?"
"- Yes... thanks to... you..."
The man was quite young, slightly older than me perhaps. He was so pale and his hair so smooth that I could have mistaken him for an Altmer. He wore a very peculiar light armor that seemed to be made of silver links, gleaming brightly. The Redguard pulled out the arrows without showing any sign of pain, then used a healing spell.
"- It will be taken care of quickly, my lord."
"- Hurry, my son... we mustn't... linger here, or they... will find me..."
The Redguard cracked his fingers and drew a silver sword and shield of the same material before assuming a defensive stance. We stood there, staring at each other for a brief moment. I particularly despised these types who thought they were righteous heroes. I reached into my cloak with both hands and retrieved five throwing knives and one of the ice discs, which I hurled at the charging Redguard, shield first.
He skillfully deflected my five blades, and the disc only managed to lightly freeze his shield. Upon reaching me, he delivered a shield strike that propelled me against the bar counter, while he leaped forward for an aerial sword strike. I barely had time to use my chain to snag a bystander who was watching the fight, using them as a human shield to intercept the full force of the sword blow.
Amidst the chaos, I began slashing at his abdomen with my dagger. He didn't even whimper and started hitting me in the face with his reinforced gloves, all the while tugging on his sword. After a brutal few seconds, he pulled hard enough to yank his blade out of the dead man's body, and he prepared to strike me. I quickly drew my bow and fired an arrow at the old man who was still lurking at the back of the room.
The knight interrupted his motion, throwing a stool to deflect the arrow. When he turned back to me, I hurled a table at his face, causing him to stagger backward, but not fall. In retaliation, he picked up a table and hurled it at me. I grabbed a couple fleeing civilians to cushion the impact of the table, which shattered into pieces of wood upon impact.
Through the debris, I saw a whistling blade coming for my throat. I managed to intercept the strike with my own dagger, but he pushed so hard that it made me stumble back, edging closer to my throat. With my other hand, I pulled out a poisoned arrow from my quiver and drove it into his chest. A trickle of blood dripped from his mouth, but he didn't cry out and continued pressing his blade against me.
He was indeed a formidable opponent, psychologically as ruthless as I was – pain didn't matter as long as the opponent was a lifeless mass of flesh.
Now it was his turn to use his second hand to deliver a powerful blow to my face that made me release my dagger. He rapidly swung his sword towards my throat, but I managed to catch it between my teeth. With my two hands free now, I grasped his throat and began choking him while he pushed his blade against my face.
His strength surpassed mine; I wouldn't hold out for long. So, I raised my knee as forcefully as possible into his stomach, extricated my head from his sword, and headbutted him. But as he stood up, he managed to slash me severely across my right cheek. Neither of us showed any signs of pain, but he must have been in a similar state as me.
"Son... we must leave the city... these people... will come for them."
"- Wait, my lord, I'll deal with this nuisance who means you harm, and then we can go."
I retrieved my dagger and took out my cursed blade with my other hand, in the same time asking him why he associated with this dying old man.
"I'd give my life for Lord Marsha!"
I laughed ironically, telling him he might be a little old to be playing the hero. He charged at me with his shield, and I had to trip him to make him fall. I attempted to drive my blade into his head, but he rolled and sprung back up while smashing a chair on me, knocking me down. He tried to crush me with his foot, but I intercepted his leg with my cursed blade. He then dealt me a horizontal kick that made me roll near another civilian. I seized the person's leg and threw them at him. True to hero form, he caught the civilian, and I managed to sink my dagger into the citizen's body to reach the Redguard. I hadn't accounted for the small size of the daggers.
The silver-armored knight struck my face with his shield, causing me to stagger backward.
"Why do you want to kill Lord Marsha, and what do you seek?"
I replied that I didn't even know how I was going to do it, but that I would.
He struck the ground with his foot, causing a board to pop out, which I dodged.
I added that I was an assassin, not a threat to the world's balance, but just someone seeking some fun.
The heroic Redguard ran towards me, and we resumed exchanging blows with our weapons. He eventually gained the upper hand with a parry, and managed to inflict a cut on my chest.
"So you're worse than I thought, not psychotic, just selfish."
I chuckled and told him that as a hero, he should enjoy himself more, and that I wasn't all that bad if you got to know me.
I threw a knife at his head and another at his legs. He ducked, but couldn't avoid the one that pierced his legs. He fell to his knees briefly, and I leaped onto him, aiming to sever his head. But with a sudden move, he sprung back up and struck me powerfully with his elbow, sending me to the other end of the room, severely dazed.
He was stronger than me, and it had become evident. I got up and placed my blade at Heartbreaker throat. He hadn't moved all this time. I told the hero he should bid a farewell to his beloved adoptive father.
"- You're under arrest !"
A group of Boisnoir mercenaries burst into what had been a tavern, all of them stringing their bows with tranquilizer arrows. The city guards had received orders not to intervene, leaving the situation in the hands of the Boisnoir Company. I was hit by several arrows and eventually fell asleep. I woke up in what appeared to be a cell. Recognizing the basement of the Cheydinhal houses, it was likely a prison belonging to the Boisnoir Company.
To my surprise, the heroic Redguard had already escaped his cell, using some kind of spell to do so. I attempted to follow suit, but the bars were enchanted with a flame spell. The gentlemen of the Boisnoir Company were making the execution of my contract even more complicated, yet all the more satisfying when the execution itself took place.
"- You don't care, do you? The man who raised me, my... father is going to prison for crimes he committed thirty years ago, and it's YOUR fault!"
I adjusted my hair and suggested that it was rather OUR fault.
"Maybe, but I'm going to make sure to free him before he gets transferred to prison, and if you had a semblance of a heart, you'd help me!"
I sat down at the back of my cell, stating that not everyone found heroism amusing.
"I'll come back to send you to prison."
He attempted to leave the prison using a set of stairs but was met by six mercenaries who rushed at him. Despite his fighting skills, he was already injured and struggled to hold his own. He managed to kill one, then two... but was starting to lose ground seriously.
I had to make a choice.
Two chains shot out from the cell of the hooded prisoner and grabbed the throats of two mercenaries, strangling them. Then the mysterious prisoner hurled a knife, killing a third man. The heroic Redguard took care of the last one, then cracked open the cell door, speaking to him with irony.
"I thought you didn't like playing the hero?"
Smiling, I told him that didn't mean I couldn't do it.
"Follow me!"
We ascended the stairs, killing everything in our path and assisting each other as much as possible, without any difficulty. He and I were absolutely identical, devoid of identity, painless, unstoppable, only our roles were different.
The last mercenary took his last breath, and we broke down a double door. Behind it was the old man, wrinkled, exhausted, and wheezing, but very much alive. The Redguard knight lifted him onto his shoulders, apologized, and I signaled him to jump out of the window before following suit.
On the road, I shook the hand of Heartbreaker to see if he had survived. He was alive. We had succeeded in saving him, and we were now in a small house on the road to the Imperial City.
"I want to thank you. Without you, I would never have been able to do it... even though you're the one who put me in this situation in the first place. Let's say it doesn't absolve your sins, but it helps to correct them."
The old man seemed relieved at last, peacefully sleeping. His face was finally calm and serene. I spoke solemnly to the knight, expressing gratitude for allowing me to open up to others and that it might help me become more human, perhaps.
"All the pleasure was mine... but look at Lord Marsha, my friend. I've never seen him so peaceful. I am truly grateful to you... Here, take this."
He handed me a sort of amulet, a trinket of little value.
"I give you this token as a friend. Thank you so much, truly."
I pretended to leave, then turned back to shake my friend the knight's hand. He looked at it for a moment, then shook it with a wide smile.
"I'm sure that... if Lord Marsha was awake, he would thank you too, from the bottom of his heart."
I smiled and replied that it was impossible, for he was dead.
"W-what?"
I withdrew my hand and pointed to the end of the ring I wore on my right hand. There was a small needle, slowly dripping poison.
"You despi...c...ab..."
His body stiffened, then collapsed as if life had completely abandoned him. Abraxion poison, with which the needle of my poison ring was filled, caused swift and silent paralysis while leaving the subject conscious. The only condition for proper transmission was that it had to be administered through the hand, such as by taking the pulse.
I sat him in front of his apparently sleeping lord's body; it was quite comical. The knight's will was so strong that he could still move his eyes, but nothing else. I needed to offer him an interesting spectacle, though I was a bit short on ideas at the moment.
Searching the cupboards, I found plenty of raw meat, and conveniently, I had two paralyzed individuals at hand. I truly loved my job. Reality isn't like books; heroes don't always win. Sometimes, in rare cases, they get devoured alive by bears.