I stepped into the cold fog of night, shuddering in my spare hide armor. I only wore it for contracts. I had made qiute a name for the Dark Brotherhood. So Shrouded armour would be an aweful idea.
Shadowmere was standing alone, waiting for me to mount. The Shadow Horse was strong and healthy. I envied him. The famine had no effect on him, he fed on the shadows of pain. That must be why he looked so good.
He took off fast, already knowing were I wanted to go. The wind ripped it's dark, icy fingers through my hair, as if it was a piece of treasure that it must claim before anyone else did. I strugled to breathe, as the iced air of autunm clawed at my lungs. The ride was over too soon. Riften stood over us, looming in the light of the moon.
I calmly walked through the streets. I knew where this contract would be. Finding him was easy. He was right where I guessed. I entered The Bee and the Barb. My contract sat drinking and telling about a werewolf he supposedly killed. What bothered me was he said that the werewolf was ten feet tall and covered in mud and grime. He was either lying and had never seen a werewolf, or met a species confused giant.
"You must be very brave to kill a werewolf!" I spoke pretending to be interrested. He smiled at me, survaying my curvy body hungrily. The famine was good for one thing at least. I was angry though, this man didn't know a werewolf.
We spoke quietly, and I was able to get invited home. Good. Phase one complete.
As we entered Oric's house, (contract's name) I calmly unshealthed my silver dagger. He pressed me against the wall ready to kiss me. He would have too, if he didn't get my dagger in his chest. After that I pulled out the note, setting it on the floor next to him and walking to the door, so that he could bleed to death. A sign of merciless work.I emerged from the house not feeling completely alone. So I set off worriedly towards the gates.
A blistering pan shot through my head. Someone had hitt me with the butt of a blade. I toppled over, the force pushing me to the ground. A worse pain shot up my ankle. As if someone crushed the bone completaly. "Your head will fetch a nice price won't it?" A woman's voice asked in my ear. Fear swam into my brain. "Hold sti..." The woman fell dead to the ground.
I looked up. A man pulled his sword from her back. I didn't feel scared as he slid his arms under me. I knew who he was. Brynjolf, expert theif of Theives' Guild. His face was the last thing I saw before I blacked out.
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I woke up in a strange place lyin in a strange bed. Okay, the bed wasn't strange, but it was to me. "Sleep well Lass?" I then noticed Brynjolf sitting at the end of my bed.
"Let me guess, you want to know my name?" I asked sarcastically. Brynjolf smiled. He had shoulder leingth reddish-brown hair. There were stubby whiskers on his face, and bright, forest green eyes that danced with mischief. Overall I found him ruggedly handsome. He only spoke a few words
"Welcome to Theives Guild, Saphira." Brynjolf said before turning and walking away.
props to you!
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