User:Rpeh/Thief of Darkness

[edit] Thief of Darkness

by rpeh

[edit] Introduction: Chapter Two Part One

It is a universal law that the smallest things can have almost unimaginable consequences. On this Frost Fire night in the Imperial City, a coin landed showing the head of the emperor, just as Gerich Burtilius had predicted it would. Later, he headed for his favorite haunt the Tiber Septim Hotel, where flush with his winnings he bought one more bottle of Tamika's finest from Augusta Calidia than he usually did. The strong wine soon had its effect and walking home after dark, his drunken singing attracted the attention of two imperial guards, who walked so close to Faric Merian that he lost count of doors, and accidentally broke in to the wrong house.

The consequences hadn't become unimaginable yet, but it was only a matter of time.

[edit] Chapter One: A Welcome Return

Faric Merian was 26 years old and had been thieving for 23 of them. His earliest memories were of being taught how to make the right kind of distractions to ensure a successful robbery by a tall dark man who, with hindsight Faric realized was probably his father. These days he was a cat burglar in the Thieves Guild, making his living by relieving the wealthy of their excess possessions and selling them on to his network of fences. He had inherited dark hair and gray eyes from his father along with his light-fingered tendencies but his dark looks hid a ready smile and a friendly nature. In a city as rich as the Imperial, there was no shortage of employment for a thief of his ability and had been successful enough to move out of the traditional low-life haven, the Waterfront, recently and into a small house in one corner of the Temple District.

All thievery in the city was controlled by the Thieves Guild, headed by the mysterious Gray Fox who always hid his face under a cowl rumored to have been stolen from the God Nocturnal over 300 years ago. He was rarely seen in the city and sent orders through his lieutenants instead, usually Methredhel. Faric made it a point to pop into the guild’s headquarters at Dareloth’s House every so often to pick up the latest stories and gossip, see his fellow guild members and relax in the absence of any guards for a few minutes.

Faric was in Dareloth's house talking to Methredhel, listening to news about a good target whilst wondering distractedly if his endurance would be a match for her famed agility.

'He seems to be some kind of merchant' said Methredhel, 'although how somebody so stupid made the kind of money he has is beyond me.'

'Stupid?' asked Faric.

'If you'd bought a nice new house in the Elven Gardens would you then bring several large crates marked "Silver: Handle with Care" inside in broad daylight?'

'Ah. Stupid. Yes.'

'So since he's evidently too stupid to have made the money honestly, he must have made it dishonestly', said Methredhel. Faric was too much of an old hand to wonder at Thieves' Logic. It removed so many of the bothersome little questions from life it was as invaluable as a good set of lock-picks.

'Well obviously', he agreed. "So as the true representatives of dishonesty in the land...'

'Apart from the guild of Accountants!’ interrupted Methredhel.

'Apart from them'. The pair smiled at the obligatory old joke. 'So as the true representatives of dishonesty it's our solemn duty to retrieve the silver.'

'Kid, you read my mind.'

'I'll pay him a visit tonight.'

'You're happy doing it on your own?'

'For one lousy merchant? I'll be fine and won't have to split my share of the loot, thanks!'

'Just as long as you pay the Guild its cut.'

'25%. It's easy to see how the Thieves Guild gets its name', he grumbled.

'See you later', smiled Methredhel and walked off. Faric watched her go.

'Fantasizing about the wood-elf again?' said a voice behind him. 'I've told you, she's over 100 years older than you and that's not the biggest of your worries.'

'So what is?'

'Somebody might take offense' came the reply as Faric felt the tip of a dagger pressed into the small of his back.

Spinning round, he knocked an arm aside, moved forward and grabbed the smiling girl who had been standing behind him in both arms. 'It wouldn't matter if that person was as slow as you, Risi', he said, kissing her.

Two years ago he'd bumped into an attractive Nord girl near the Temple and had been so busy staring after her that it had taken him several seconds to realize she'd managed to walk off with the 20 gold coins he'd been keeping in his inside pocket. Smiling suddenly, Faric had run after her.

'You're new to the city then?'

The girl looked up, shocked, and walked a little faster, frowning slightly. 'What makes you think that?'

'I just haven't seen you around before.'

'So you think you know everybody in the city?'

'I'd recognize anybody as pretty as you, that's for sure!'

For a moment, a smile lit up her face then the frown returned. 'Does that one ever work?'

'Nope. So usually I rely on threatening to haul people up for stealing from a fellow member of the guild'.

She stopped so suddenly that Faric walked into her again. Her eyes darted from side to side and she spoke in a whisper heavy with panic. 'You're in the Thieves Guild? I didn't know! I'm sorry!'

'Hey! There's nothing to worry about. It'd only be a problem if you actually had stolen from me.'

'You know I did! This...' she put her hand in her pocket then broke off, looking puzzled.

'So I was wondering if I could buy you a drink with one of these gold coins I have here?' said Faric.

The girl took her hand out of her pocket and appraised Faric carefully. 'Smooth. I'm Risi Fire-Eye. And if you think you can get me drunk on 20 coins, you've never met a Nord before.' She smiled again, her entire face lighting up.

'Faric Merian. And if we're both thieves, what makes you think I'll be paying?'

'Where've you been?'

'I told you, I had some business to take care of', replied Risi.

'But that was a week ago!'

'It was a lot of business.'

'I was wor... wondering where you were, that's all.'

'Aw! Is the poor little Bwetony-wettony wowwied about the wittle Nordy-wordy?', she teased, reaching up to pat Faric on his head.

'Nah. The only thing I was worried about was having to turn to sesquicentennial elves for... entertainment'

'I heard you usually have to make do with Orcs. Or ogres', smiled Risi.

'In that case perhaps I'll have to find an orc to wear this.' Faric reached into his pocket and pulled out a gold necklace studded with so many gems the gold was almost hidden.

'Faric! It must have cost somebody an emperor's ransom!'

'Nobody important'. He fastened the amulet around her neck and waited for the reaction.

'Oh! It's wonderful. I can hardly see myself!'

'It's a chameleon enchantment. Pretty handy for people with our... calling.'

'I think we need to see how well it works. I'm going to remove anything that might make a noise' - a pair of shoes appeared on the floor - 'and you try to track me down.'

Faric followed the faint shimmer in the air as it moved towards the stairway, a green blouse appearing as if out of nowhere.

'Is this helping?'

'I can still see where you are...'

A skirt dropped to the floor.

'Now?' The shimmer moved out of sight.

Faric headed for the stairs.

The two of them walked hand-in-hand through the Imperial City scarcely aware of where they were. They made their way to the Arboretum and sat on a bench watching the city's inhabitants going about their business. Risi lay back with her head on Faric's lap while he stroked her hair.

'So just reconnaissance then?', he asked.

'Yup. You know that big old house called Riverview?'

Faric paused. 'I think so. I haven't been to Cheydinhal for a few years though.'

'It's owned by this Altmer called Voranil who loves throwing parties for the great and good. The Gray Fox wanted to know if one of those parties would make a good... investment opportunity.'

'What's your verdict?'

'You'd need to be invisible, silent and lucky. I couldn't get in but there were so many people you'd be falling over somebody all the time.'

'Is that what you told him?'

'Yeah. I said that if you could get in you could make a fortune but I couldn't see how it could be done.'

'I bet he didn't like that!'

'He just smiled and said that was why he was the Gray Fox and I was just a cat-burglar'.

'Arrogant git!'

'You know what they say. If anybody can do it, he can. Just wait for the news of a bunch of penniless partygoers.’

Faric grunted. Risi was right; the Gray Fox was the greatest thief Tamriel had ever seen. If only a tenth of the rumors about him were true it meant he’d still pulled off stunts nobody else would even think about.

‘Don’t tell me scouting one house took a week though?’

‘It didn’t. He wanted me to try to lock down a rumor. There’s an abandoned house in Cheydinhal and he was hoping I could find out about it.’

‘There are abandoned houses everywhere. What’s the big deal?’

‘This one’s a nice house right in the center of town, opposite the chapel, nice surroundings.’

‘Okay so it’s a nice house. I still don’t get it.’

Putting her arms around Faric’s neck, Risi pulled herself upright, looked around and put her mouth against his ear. Out of habit they hadn’t been speaking loudly but now she dropped her voice to a whisper. ‘The rumor is that the Dark Brotherhood uses the place.’ She lay back down again.

‘Come on! They’re nothing but legend! A story to frighten the kids – eat up or the Dark Brotherhood will get you; stop bullying your sister or the Dark Brotherhood will get you; be home on time or the Dark Brotherhood will get you!’

‘Shh! I’m serious. Everybody in Cheydinhal knows it but you have to be really charming to get it out of them.’

‘And you managed how, exactly?’

‘Don’t change the subject! The rumor is everywhere but I couldn’t verify it. The house is completely deserted. There’s some kind of weird painting in the basement but that’s it. I watched it for hours but nobody ever went in or out.’

‘What does the GF think?’

‘Do you really think he’d tell me? He just thanked me and told me he had some thinking to do. You know what he’s like. Anyway, what about your appointment tonight?' Faric told her all the details he'd received from Methredhel earlier.

'And you're sure you don't want any help?' asked Risi.

'No thanks. I need all the money I can get. I want to buy you a ring to go with that necklace.'

'Buy?'

'Obtain.'

'Don't you forget it.'

[edit] Chapter Two Part Two: Mistaken Location

Faric felt the lock-pick break and swore inwardly. He selected another from the velvet roll in his pocket and brought it towards the lock. This time his timing was perfect and he heard the tumblers click into place one after the other. The lock gave a click so loud he half expected the whole city to awaken, and then the door was swinging open. Gliding through the gap, Faric pushed the door shut gently and looked around.

He frowned slightly; this didn't look right. The opulence of a successful merchant's house was a common sight in his line of work, but instead of expensive drapes, nice furniture and all the trappings of luxury, there were bare walls and a couple of cheap tables. Perhaps the merchant was still unpacking. There was a staircase in the corner of the room and a door under it that Faric supposed led to the basement. He headed towards the staircase. In his experience, people stored their cheap stuff in the basement. Maybe he'd take a look later.

The door at the top of the stairs was also locked and Faric lost another pick trying in opening it. The room was even barer than the last. A threadbare mattress lay on a rickety-looking bed and that was about it. Faric crept round the room running his hands over the walls in what turned out to be a fruitless search for secret passages then stood, frowning in the center of the floor. A mustiness in the air suggested that nobody had been in the room for weeks which would have to mean that the merchant had bought a house without even looking in all the rooms. The story Methredhel had told him had sounded stupid enough, but it was getting even more so by the second.

Faric shrugged inwardly. He supposed he’d been wrong about the basement being a waste of time on this occasion. Anybody living in the house would surely have got the bedroom straight and that meant crates full of silver were lying unguarded downstairs. On the other hand… 'Anything that sounds too good to be true usually is', was a favorite phrase of Risi's. He had laughed when she'd first told him that one but he suddenly realized what she had meant. Several crates of silver would be worth four to five hundred coins if he fenced it right. Even after the guild took its cut it was still going to be a big haul, but getting that much cash for such little effort seemed far too easy.

He stood a moment longer, weighing up his options then padded back down to the ground floor. There wasn’t really a doubt. Calling it a night and heading back to guild headquarters with a story of ‘not feeling right’ would get him nothing but ridicule.

Rounding the staircase, Faric stood motionless outside the door to the basement and listened hard. There was somebody in there after all, he was sure. Probably two people in fact, as he could hear a faint muttering sound that seemed to come from some distance away. He turned the handle of the door as slowly as he could and was surprised to find it unlocked. Opening the door a fraction, Faric peered through the gap and waited for his eyes to adapt. The basement appeared to be in pitch darkness although a candle flame flickered at the far end. Moving as quietly as possible, he slipped inside the gap and pulled the door closed.

He found himself standing at one end of a long room separated in the middle by a thick curtain. The light was coming from the far end of the room, but there was still enough to reveal the shapes of at least a dozen crates. The murmuring sound was still coming from behind the curtain but Faric paid it no heed as he silently opened the first lid.

Instead of a mass of silver, the bottom of the crate stared up at him almost bashfully. ‘One empty crate doesn’t matter though’, he thought to himself and headed for the next. It was empty too, as was the third, the fourth and the fifth. Becoming more worried, Faric slid over to the sixth crate and opened the lid. His heart seemed to leap into his mouth as inside the box, the face of a middle-aged dark elf male stared lifelessly up at him. Only his years of practice prevented him from yelling in shock and disgust.

‘I see you have met the last person who inconvenienced us’.

Suddenly four figures were walking towards him and knew that Risi’s saying had been right all along.

[edit] Chapter Three: Conversation with a Killer

Faric froze as the four figures walked towards him from the corners of the room, appearing as if from nowhere. They were all clad in black robes and hoods and carrying thin dark swords, their tips pointed straight at his chest. He made no move for his own dagger, realizing that to do so would be suicidal. Instead, he moved his hands slowly up until they were level with his shoulders and tried to see if there was any way he could escape.

'I know what you're thinking and I strongly advise against it' said a voice from behind him. Turning slowly, Faric saw a tall figure also clad in black emerge from behind the curtain and realized at the same moment that the low murmuring had stopped. The man was an Imperial, dark and threatening. Like the others he wore a black robe and hood but it seemed more terrible by far; there was an aura of evil that was almost tangible around him.

'Do not move. Do not talk. Do not lower your hands. Do not, in fact, perform any action not explicitly ordered by myself.' The man was walking slowly around Faric and suddenly stopped, looking him straight in the face. 'You may breathe incidentally.' he added with a thin smile, and started walking again. 'You have no idea what you have stumbled upon. I wonder what you thought to find here?'

'I...' began Faric, before a fist thudded into the side of his head.

'I'm positive "Do not talk" was in my list of proscribed behaviors', continued the man. "And even if it wasn't, surely you can recognize a rhetorical question? Hmm?'

This time, Faric remained silent.

'Better.' The man smiled thinly again as he walked through Faric's line of sight again. 'I cannot deny you have talent, however. I wasn't aware of your presence until my associates revealed themselves and it's rare for that to happen, believe me.'

The man stopped in front of Faric and turned towards him. His stare was powerful and Faric would have looked away if he hadn't been certain he'd be dead within seconds. The thin smile returned to his lips but it was purely cruel, containing no mirth whatsoever.

'Search him.'

Hands went through Faric's clothing, removing his dagger, his lock-picks and a few scraps of parchment.

'What have we here?’ said the man. 'Thieves Guild membership... maps... who is this?'

Faric went white as the black-clad man held up a sketch of Risi. Faric had made it not long after they'd got together and had kept it with him ever since.

'You may answer... in fact I insist you do.', said the man, smiling more broadly.

Faric licked his lips nervously. 'J... Just a girl I saw in the city one day.'

Another fist crashed into the side of his head.

'She's an old girlfriend.' he gasped. 'She dumped me a few years ago.'

To Faric's horror, a cracked whisper came from behind the curtain. 'He lies. She is his lover still'.

The man closed his eyes for a moment. 'Your servant humbly thanks you, mother'.

‘Master’, hissed one of the other figures, ‘That is the Nord I mentioned, the one who was skulking around the Cheydinhal sanctuary’.

The first man opened his eyes and stared at Faric again. 'You have infiltrated a sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood. The penalty for so doing is death.'

The smile became even crueler as he saw the look of terror cross the face of the thief in front of him.

'Whose death though?'

Faric couldn't remain silent. 'Mine! Kill me and leave her alone. I'm the one who's violated your sanctuary. Don't you dare touch her!'

The smile vanished from the face in front of him. 'Little thief. You have earned death for yourself and as many of your friends as I deem fit. Yet the mother sends you to me when I have... a problem... with which you might be able to help.' The man turned and walked away a few paces. He spent a few moments as if in thought then spun back round. 'For your crimes, the girl must die but you...' - he swept up and grabbed Faric's throat before he could even move - 'you will have the choice. Leave her to us and she will suffer every torture the Dark Brotherhood can create. She will spend hours in agony before surrendering at last to Sithis at which point we will do the same to you. Or you can live and she can die a quick death. At your hands.'