For the Future of Skyrim - Part 16

Turdas 24 Sun's Height 204 4E 6:00 PM

"And I say we ignore it!" Nazir's voice was angry. I don't think I've ever heard the Redguard so emotional before, not even right after Falkreath fell.

"We do not ignore a contract from the Night Mother," Garnag protested. The two men were at the dining table. Garnag was seated at one of the benches while Nazir was preparing dinner. Both looked pissed off.

Cicero and I had just come in from swimming in the ocean so we were clad in only our underclothes. "What's the problem?" I asked as I toweled my long, black hair dry. Cicero flopped onto a bench and started munching on the various vegetables Nazir had chopped up for dinner.

"Can't you put on some clothes first?" Nazir huffed trying to ignore the Keeper's and my state of undress.

"Probably would have if I hadn't entered Sanctuary to the sound of yelling," I said casually. I draped the towel so it covered my top half to appease Nazir a bit. "The sooner you tell me what the two of you are arguing about, the sooner I'll dress."

"Nazir wants to discard a mission from the Night Mother," Garnag said scowling. Cicero looked up frowning. Nazir was treading very close to disrespecting our Matron.

"Do you remember the Grieving Mother from the most recent list of contracts?" Nazir asked me. I nodded. She had been one of several contacts the Night Mother had given me after I had defeated Meena for the position of Listener.

"I decided to visit her first since she is in Windhelm," Nazir explained as he grabbed the plate of vegetables from Cicero and dumped them into his stew. He glared at the Keeper who just stuck his tongue out in retaliation. "It is Tova Shatter-Shield. The woman is a gods-damned wreck. I could smell the alcohol off her breath from fifteen feet away. She wants the Butcher dead."

I whistled softly. The Butcher was a serial killer who has been plaguing Windhelm for the last three years. His first victim had been Friga Shatter-Shield, Tova's twenty-five-year-old daughter. I had never met the young woman, but everyone who spoke of her to me only had the kindest things to say. No parent should ever have to bury their child especially one who was at the prime of her life, but it must have been especially hard on Tova since Friga had a twin sister, Nilsine. I didn't want to imagine seeing my dead child's face every day.

Nilsine could have died at my hands when my first contract included her as an optional bonus. An old family friend, Muiri, had visited them after Friga died. She had trusted a con artist named Alain Dufont who wanted to exploit the family during their time of mourning. When his plot was discovered, Dufont had been thrown out on his ass and Muiri with him. Muiri had felt bitter about what she considered a betrayal from the Shatter-Shields and requested Nilsine's death as payback.

I had refused the optional kill. I didn't feel Nilsine had done anything to deserve death and the thought of how that would have destroyed Tova was too much to consider. Muiri had been disappointed, but frankly I hadn't had it in me to care. Woman should have had better taste in men.

"Oh! Cicero's heard about the Butcher! Interesting knife work! Hhehheh, just stab stab stab stab stab stab stab," Cicero mimed stabbing the table. He paused, thoughtful, "And then, stab stab stab stab stab stab!"

"Eloquent, my dear Keeper," I said sardonically. I turned back to the original topic. "Nazir, that's a hard task, but not impossible."

"I know, but I cannot in good conscience send anyone into that," Nazir admitted. "Everyone knows the Butcher hunts only women. I send a male and it is unlikely he'll even get a hint of the killer. I send a female and we risk one of our sisters becoming the next victim."

"Let the Brotherhood decide if they want the prestige," Garnag countered. "You don't have to specifically assign the task, just let someone take it for their own. Assassins die all the time on assignment. Why are you making this personal, Nazir?"

"Because those kids are too green for a killer like this!" Nazir responded. "He's been killing for at least three years exclusively in one of the most fortified cities of Skyrim and the militia is nowhere close to catching him. He's good, very good."

"Then we recruit him," Cicero said quietly. We all turned to stare at the Keeper who was sitting very still suddenly. "He's one of us, so we ask him to join our family."

"What about the contract?" Nazir asked. He sounded hopeful at the alternate solution.

"The Black Sacrament only demands a life. There have been instances in the past where the Brotherhood was hired for other tasks via the Sacrament, but a life must always be paid," Garnag said slowly as if he was tasting the idea. The orc nodded, "Yes, I think if we could arrange a death for payment, we could propose that this Butcher join us instead."

"But he's a serial killer," I protested uncomfortable with this turn of events. "Usually having an initiate kill is a way to bind them to us in blood. This person is going to be pretty inured to the thought of murder."

"The only thing that matters is that he's willing to kill for the Brotherhood," Garnag reminded me. "If he can follow commands, then he's one of us."

"I'll take the contract," I sighed as I picked up the details Nazir had written on a scrap of parchment. "Of the women, I have the most experience."

"Cicero will go too!" Cicero said jumping up.

"No, my dear jester," I shook my head, "not this time."

"Why not?" Cicero whined.

"Because this is not just a snatch and grab," I explained. "Windhelm is only a day's journey away, but I don't know anything about this killer. We're just assuming he's a man since he's been targeting women exclusively, but honestly the Butcher could be anyone. It is going to take time to find out who the killer is, what his motivation is, and how to catch him before he kills anyone else."

"Before he kills someone else?" Cicero snorted. "When did that become part of the agenda?"

"When I took the job," I said.



Fredas 25 Sun's Height 204 4E 12:00 PM

"Damned place is closed again," I muttered.

"What is it?" Elbent asked. I had invited the Breton to accompany me on my mission. He was human and would draw little attention while in Windhelm unlike most of the rest of our family and was very gregarious which I considered only a bonus.

Elbent reminded me of a less slimy version of Belethor, the owner of the general goods shop in Whiterun. Both were Bretons with broad shoulders, easy grins, and ridiculous brown mutton chops. The biggest difference was that Elbent didn't make you feel like he was evaluating how much you were worth while he talked to you. Bretons are notoriously short and Elbent was no exception. He was a few inches shorter than me. Mixed with how broad his shoulders were, Elbent often reminded me of a bulldog.

"A shop called Calixto's House of Curiosities," I said. "I've tried to visit it every time I'm in this hell hole and it's always closed." I smiled sadly at the memory of me kicking the door in frustration while Lydia patiently rolled her eyes at my tantrum.

"What is in it?" Elbent scratched his head.

"I have no idea!" I admitted. "That's why I want to go in so badly. At first I thought it was some sort of store so I could have another merchant to sell trinkets to, but word on the street is that it's some sort of museum."

"I don't know, my friend," the Breton shrugged. "I have been very underwhelmed by the quality of museums in Skyrim. Remember that one in Dawnstar for the Mythic Dawn? It was one room with four displays of old Mythic Dawn clothing while Silus talked about how he was distantly related."

"I laughed so hard," I said. "He was going on and on how the Dawn killed Uriel Septim which was very impressive until the Brotherhood killed Titus Mede and we were standing right there." I shook my head. "Oh well, maybe next time it will finally be open. I have no idea how they stay in business since they are never open. It's time for us to get to work ourselves." I pulled on the Stormcloak helm to hide my face.

The Brotherhood's armory was very extensive. Whenever we killed a target, we would steal a uniform if possible to allow us the ability to infiltrate. We had many suits of both Stormcloak and Imperial armor in our coffers thanks to the war.

Elbent and I walked to the Palace of Kings and were given immediate access to the barracks. Off-duty guards were lounging around, either eating or sleeping in their bunks.

"Pardon me," I said tapping one on the shoulder. "We were just assigned here to help with the Butcher case. Who should we report to?"

"Either Jorleif, the steward, or Wuunferth, the court wizard," the soldier said shortly.

"Thanks," I gave a two-finger salute and left.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I left the soldiers' barracks and returned to the main court. Thankfully, I never had reason to interact with Jorleif, but it was possible the man remembered me from when I had been here previously. As head steward, it would Jorleif's job to remember important guests and their preferences to make their stay as pleasant as possible.

"Elbent, take over for the next part," I said softly. The Breton nodded. Our face-concealing helms would protect our identities, so if only Elbent spoke we wouldn't have to worry about anyone recognizing my voice.

Elbent and I approached the steward and saluted. "Reporting for duty, sir," Elbent said smartly. "We have been assigned for the serial killer case."

"That is good to hear," Jorleif said sounding relieved. "We can use all the help we can get on this. There was another murder recently. A woman who worked at the Candlehearth named Susanna. She makes the sixth victim to date."

"What can you tell us to help us along, sir?" Elbent asked looking at me. Serial killers rarely have all of their victims discovered. If there were six known victims, odds were there were at least that many more no one knew about.

"The victims are all females in their mid-to-late twenties. There seems to be no connection to race since there are reports of both men and mer, but no Argonians or Khajiit. Helgird, a priestess of Arkay, is in the Hall of the Dead preparing the most recent body for burial," Jorleif told us. "You might want to talk to her about details of how Susanna died."

"Would there be anything else, sir?" Elbent asked. I liked that he stayed in character as a soldier and didn't immediately didn't try to leave after gaining the information we needed.

"No, just get this resolved as soon as possible," Jorleif nodded his dismissal.

Elbent and I saluted and made our way to the Hall of the Dead. Each city had a Hall of the Dead. It is where the dead are embalmed and interred in elaborate catacombs that hold ancestors of some families back to the beginning of Skyrim's history. The god of burials and funeral rites, Arkay, has a shrine in each Hall and his priests and priestesses act as morticians.

Helgird was a woman in her sixties who had been a priestess most of her adult life. She had quite a bit of useful information to tell us. "Whoever did this didn't do it for coin. The girl's purse was still on her. Most of her clothes were gone by the time the body was discovered. Cut into shreds, they were. If you look at the cuts, you can see it was done with a curved blade. Looks like the work of embalming tools to me. See the long cut from the left shoulder?" The priestess pointed to a smooth cut along the back. "Most people couldn't tell, but it looks like the muscle was removed."

"Who would have access to embalming tools?" I asked.

"Me, obviously," Helgird shrugged. "Not sure who else would nowadays."

I managed to restrain from rolling my eyes. Helgird was much too suspicious to be the actual killer. "What about the other victims? Did they have similar cuts?"

"Definitely," the older woman nodded. "Each of them missing different tendons and muscles."

"Have you reported this to anyone else?" Elbent asked looking at the corpse on the preparation table. The figure was pale from where Helgird had already drained it of blood. It was hard to imagine this was once a living, laughing human being.

"Who else has been down here?" Helgird shrugged. "I have my priestly duties to attend to. I tried to go up to the Palace to report my findings, but the guards just ran me off. Said the jarl was too busy for the likes of me. I guess they thought I was trying to convert. Figured I'd done what I could and left the rest for Arkay."

We bid the woman farewell. "If you find out anything else, we're staying at the Candlehearth. Be sure to let us know immediately," I said. As we departed the Hall of the Dead, I turned to Elbent. "Are you thinking the same thing I am?"

"Necromancer," Elbent said nodding.

A shiver of cold ran down my spine. Necromancy was not technically illegal in Skyrim, but that was only because the mage's college in Winterhold didn't acknowledge it. The practice was forbidden although the occasional zombie raised in battle still happened.  Draugr are undead that protect barrows throughout the country, but those were warriors who dedicated themselves in death as well as life and that particular practice of interment had not been done in at least an Era.

To kill someone in order to raise a golem from their flesh was monstrous.



Morndas 28 Sun's Height 204 4E 6:00 AM

My eyes snapped open when the door to my room at the Candlehearth clicked open. I was sleeping on my side facing the wall of the small room I was renting so I couldn't see who was coming into my room. I mentally reprimanded myself for not sleeping facing the door. It was stupid mistakes like that that got you killed.

I slipped my hand under my pillow where I hid a dagger for emergencies. If the Butcher had come for me, I was going to make him regret it. Recruit or not.

When the bed creaked from the added weight of the intruder, I flipped over and swung my dagger straight for the jugular. The blade flew out of my hand when the figure stopped my attack by grabbing my wrist. Before I could scream for help, a gloved hand clamped over my mouth. I was pushed back onto the bed while the silhouette straddled me.

Lips pressed against my ear, laughing evilly. "Is this how the Listener greets poor, loyal Cicero?" He released me. "Not that I'm complaining, mind you."

"Cicero," I said, "what are you doing here?" I sat up and punched the jester in the shoulder.

"Cicero finished oiling Mother and decided he wanted to visit the Listener. Rode all the way here as fast as he could, Cicero did!" The jester beamed with pride. "How goes the hunt?"

"Not good," I admitted. After our initial success, we had not been able to find any more clues. The trail for the other murders was just too old. I outlined what Elbent and I did know for Cicero. "This is not my forte," I admitted.

"Why not summon Deesei? She's a tracker," Cicero suggested.

"Good luck getting an Argonian into the city," I grimaced. "Believe me, I already considered it, but she would be lucky to get past the walls. No matter how good at stealth Dee might be, the guards will notice her immediately." I think the only reason we had been able to get Meena in last time was because Khajiit will try harder to go anyplace forbidden to them.

"Cicero will find this Butcher," the Keeper promised. "Then we will go home and sweet Hecate will show Cicero her gratitude." Cicero pushed me back onto the bed.

"I'm on contract," I reminded him.

"All the more the reason to finish this," Cicero murmured as he leaned forward to give me a chaste kiss that promised more later.



Morndas 28 Sun's Height 204 4E 11:00 AM

"I might have found a lead," Elbent told me when we met for an early lunch. He nodded to Cicero, who was also wearing a Stormcloak outfit that I had 'borrowed' from the barracks. The Fool was still wearing his jester's gloves. Cicero rarely ever went completely without at least one part of his velvet armor, even while undercover. "Brother," he said by way of greeting. I was amused to see that the Breton was completely unsurprised to see the Keeper here.

"Thank, Mara," I said. Cicero rolled his eyes. I was the only member of the Brotherhood who never swore by Sithis. Cicero had asked me about it once and all I could do was shrug. It had never seemed appropriate. Maybe I had just joined too late to pick it up. "Tell me."

"You remember those 'Beware the Butcher' posters we've seen all over the city?" Elbent asked. The posters in question were simple pamphlets that warned of the Butcher, for the reader to not be the next victim, and that Viola Giordano should be contacted about any suspicious behavior. The posters were obviously the work of an amateur. When I nodded, he continued, "I talked to Viola about her suspicions of who the Butcher is. I figured it couldn't hurt to see if anyone had approached her about possible suspects. She said she thinks it is Wuunferth."

"The court wizard?" I asked in disbelief. "No way would Ulfric employ a necromancer."

"Viola said that he has a history with necromancy," Elbent said leaning forward. "Also, get this: Wuunferth has the title 'the Unliving.' He's infamous for saying 'Whatever you've heard I can do is probably true' and is on the outs with the Winterhold College. We could at least check it out since we have no other leads."

I threw a few septims on the table to pay for our meal. "Might as well get started then. I don't want to stay away from Sanctuary too long even if I am on contract."

"Now you know how Cicero feels," the Fool muttered good-naturedly.

The three of us marched back to the Palace of Kings. I was tempted to explore the Palace every time we had to enter it. Ulfric was taking advantage of the summer months and was out campaigning to try to bring more provinces under his command via diplomacy. Lydia was camped out at Markarth to ensure that it was secure from the Forsworn and that the flow of silver was going directly into Ulfric's coffers and not any greedy officers' pockets.

I wanted to know more of how Ulfric had convinced Lydia to join his side. I knew the older man had a honeyed tongue as well as a strong sword arm, but what level of speechcraft had it taken to make Lydia forsake her vows to Jarl Balgruuf and Whiterun?

I couldn't risk it though, not after having just earned the Night Mother's favor back. At least I could finally rest easy knowing that she was not angered that the Keeper and I had a physical relationship. If she had been so quick and thorough to punish me for neglecting my duties, then she would have made her displeasure known for distracting her Keeper.

But maybe that was something both she and Cicero needed after so many years of service.

"Are we just going to directly ask Wuunferth if he is a necromancer? Or are we going to try to get him to leave his room so we can investigate for clues?" I asked Elbent.

"You're the Listener," the broad man shrugged.

"And I am listening for options," I replied. "This is your lead. You know more about the man and are the one with the suspicions, so give me your thoughts on how to handle him."

"How serious are you about possibly recruiting this man?" Elbent asked carefully.

"Very," I replied. I was still a little uncomfortable adopting a necromantic serial killer into our family. I would never forgive myself if he killed one of my sisters. But a necromancer could provide an invaluable service to the Family, so I was willing to take the chance.

A necromancer could build a new crypt for the Night Mother.

We wouldn't need a Keeper any more. Cicero would be free to be an assassin again. He could take any contracts he wanted without having to worry about rushing back to Sanctuary to attend to the Night Mother. No more oiling, no more flowers, no more incense, no more Keeping.

Cicero could just be Cicero the man. And maybe he could finally start healing. Lately the Keeper had more and more bad days. My extended absence had damaged Cicero further. He would ask if I was real and if his mind was playing tricks on him again.

There were particular problems with Eiruki. Her natural silence drove Cicero mad. He didn't like to be around the Nord, but she seemed to have a fascination with the Night Mother and would frequently, quietly sit in front of the coffin. There had been a particularly nasty incident when Eiruki had left wildflowers on the Night Mother's shrine. When Cicero discovered them, he had started screaming about "WEEDS! SOMEONE LEFT WEEDS ON MOTHER'S SHRINE!"

"Our best bet is to establish trust, then," Elbent said thinking out loud. He placed one hand curled up into a fist under his chin. "Yes, that sounds right. Just be direct. Not accusatory, but understanding. Don't reveal our intent just in case we're wrong, but keep our options open."

"All of us should go in?" I asked. This was Elbent's specialty, getting the trust of a target. He knew the right thing to say and do to win a person over to his side. This usually lowered their guard enough for him to kill them, but it worked well in other aspects too.

"I think so. We run the risk of coming off as an overwhelming force, but in this case it is better to appear too strong instead of too weak. If he thinks someone has discovered him and he can eliminate that threat with a slit throat then he'll take it," Elbent said. "I think you should do the talking since you're the leader. It gives any offers authority."

"Okay, let's go," I said. I looked around. "Where's Cicero?" I could hear laughter down the hall where Wuunferth's room was. "Oh, dammit!" I bolted towards the room afraid that Cicero had decided to take the contract into his own hands.

"You think you could give us a copy of your notes?" Cicero asked politely with a winning smile for the Nord mage. "It would be most helpful."

"Of course," Wuunferth snorted. "I'm just glad someone finally came around to get them. Although, I have to admit, as terrible as it is, they only really became completed with this last murder."

Cicero turned as Elbent and I burst into the room. I looked around and saw that Wuunferth's room looked very normal. Well, normal for a mage anyway. There was a single bed in the corner while the rest of the room was dominated by alchemy and enchanting stations and ingredients. Shelves were full of alchemical components and books on magic theory and practice. I could see that most of them were dedicated to the study of destruction magic.

"Ah, there are my companions. Were you delayed by another youngling complaining someone stole their sweetroll?" Cicero's eyes danced with amusement. "I was just talking to Wuunferth about his research on the Butcher. Our dear mage has been making notes of the times and astrological connections of the murders."

"It is good to see some people with firm heads on their shoulders," Wuunferth said. He had been standing over a desk making notes on some parchment. He handed the pile to Cicero. "This is a copy of what I've discovered. Please make good use of it."

"Thank you," Cicero said, saluting. Elbent and I echoed his actions before the three of us left.

"You went without us?" I hissed once we were out of earshot.

"Hecate was overthinking the whole ordeal," Cicero snorted. "Cicero knew when he saw the man if he was one of us or not and the mage was most definitely not. Better that Cicero get us information instead of just standing around awkwardly."

I paused at Cicero's words. Maybe I had been overthinking this whole chase. You cannot expect rational thought from a lunatic. You had to think like one instead. And we had our own personal madman right here.

"Cicero, what would you do if you were the Butcher?" I asked slowly.

The fool turned to me with a huge predatory smile. "Cicero thought you would never ask."