Tales From Skyrim: A Khajit's Dark Deed

Skyrim is getting so much love it's almost sickening. Almost. The game deserves all the praise its getting, I assure you, but there is nothing I can say that could describe how incredible the game is that hasn't already been said. So I've decided to take a different approach to exzibhit my love for Skyrim. I'm going to regail you eith tales of my charcters journey throughout Skyrim. I am currently sporting a level 18 Khajit named Liono. This is his story.

Midnight, 14th of Heartfelt, Whiterun

I've just purchased my first home in Whiterun after being honored with the title of Thane of Whiterun by the Jarl. After a weary battle with the Storm Cloak invasion on Whiterun, I have been tasked with a mission to deliver a young man's satchel to his estranged daughter. The man mines at Darkstar, and has no means of communicating with his daughter.



I felt bad for the man. I looked into his tired eyes and realized that there was more he wanted to say to his daughter. It was more than I could ever hope to tell her. He has been working the mines for months to provide for his family. I fear he may work himself to an early grave. Whatever it was that weighed heavy on his heart, he was unwilling to part with it. He offered what little gold he had for me to deliver a sentimental satchel to his daughter. I agreed to deliver.


After a three hour trek, I delivered the satchel to the girl. She was enternally grateful, and had no means of paying me. She offered a family heirloom. It would have fetched a hefty weight in gold. I would guess 100 gold or more. I didn't have the heart to take it. She was at a loss for words. I simply asked if I could take shelter for the evening. She was gracious enough to feed me, and gave me a warm bed to fall into.


When I awoke from my slumber, I was greeted by an enigmatic woman propped on top of a dresser. I instinctively went from my sword, but I was paralyzed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't move. Panic began to set in. I kept telling myself I won't let this happen. Was this it? Am I to die a cowards death. Then she spoke.


"Relax Khajit, if I wanted to end your life, it would have been so," she said dryly. "I've dosed you with a paralytic, so spare me the exhaustion of having to put you down. After all, you owe us a great deal."


I tried to remember what I may have done. Who's harlet of a wife had I had? Who's gold had I stolen? Who's life ended swiftly to my blade?


"My name is Astrid, leader of the Dark Brotherhood. It appears you foolishly stole one of our contracts," she said.


I had to gather my thoughts, I was still disoriented. By the Gods, was it Garlod the Good?


"The boy in Riften performed the dark sacrament in order for us to fulfill the contract. Yet you found it neccessary to lie, cheat, steal. Commendable, yet foolish actions."


I had thought that the Dark Brotherhood was extinct. She rattles on about how the last Dark Brotherhood sanctuary in Skyrim is the last in all of Tamriel. I tried to distinguish where she hailed from based on her garb. I assumed an assassin of Redguard. I assumed wrong. This went deeper than I thought, and I was faced with a choice.

"You have a choice Khajit. Looking at your current circumstances, it appears you have to comply with the order of The Dark Brotherhood," Astrid said, as if to mock me. "I have brought you three willing participants to this trial. One of them is a contract. Choose the right one, and you can consider the debt paid. Otherwise, well, you're an itelligent creature...you figure it out."


The paralytic wore off. I had limited mobility, but I was able to do what needed to be done. I could hear one of the victims shouting "We can hear what you're saying, what do you want from me?" I went to the first victim. I could hear him panting nervoulsy. How did I let it come to this?


I knew that I would need the Dark Brotherhood. This was a necessity. The thieves guild never steered me wrong, nor did the Companions. I did everything in the world to legitimize this evil. There was nothing else I could call it. I raised my axe, shouted, and with one blow I took the life of an unarmed man. I wasn't done. I couldn't risk choosing the wrong one.


I went to the second victim, a woman.


"May the Gods smite you, you coward," she screamed, no doubt motivated by fear. "You're not fit to be a Thane of any land, you miserable bastard."


This one had a fighters spirit. I couldn't afford to think. I had to end this now.Doubt began to creep into my skull. What if this woman is to be wed? Is she bearing a child? Is she a vile bandit? Too late now, I thought.


One blow. Her headless body slumped as if it were merely a sack of potatoes. I always wonder where they go afterward. The souls that is.


The third victim said nothing. No screams or cries for their life. This was someone who was at peace with dying. I admired that. One blow. His blood was warm to the touch. What have I done? What have I become?


"Bit of an overachiever are we Khajit," Astrid said. "Why take the Risk of killing the wrong one? Why not kill them all? Consider your debt paid."


She knew this was the end result. This was a game to her, toying with people's lives. It was all a sick game, and I participated in this disgusting charade.


"You have passed Khajit," said Astrid. "If you're looking for a home and family, seek out the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. You belong with us now, whether you think so or not."


I left the musty derelict shack she brought me to, and sought the whereabouts of the Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary. But first, I needed mead to wash the nightmare off. The hole was already too deep. I was an assassin. Unbeknownst to me, I had become a member of The Dark Brotherhood. For better, or for worse.


Jon O.