 A Countess' Last Breath |
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| ID | xx179354 | ||
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3 |  |
1.0 |
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Found in the following locations:
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| Note | |||
| This Elder Scrolls Book Club selection was written by Mr Fusion | |||
he guard left his post a little after midnight, just like every night this week. He'd be gone for no more than ten minutes, probably to go grab some food. Either way Keizer didn't care. He was here to kill the countess and wasn't to be bothered by guards' late-night schedules.
He swung down from the catwalk into the shadows of a bush, landed with little noise and immediately was swallowed by shadow. It was what he did, and he did it well.
Keizer backed up against the wall, the cold stone embracing his bones making him shiver. It was a cold night, unusually cold even for Bruma. Keizer rubbed his arms, warming his near-numb arms. His Morag Tong armor was thin and did little to keep away the chill of a cold night in Bruma, though he couldn't be trifled with the "skins of steel" as the Fighters Guild brethern [sic] liked to call them. Keizer bent his head around the corner and noticed that the second guard was done with his lap around this part of the courtyard. Keizer ran out into the burning torchlight, something he hated to do but something that was still necessary. He was quick and agile and soon was back into the shadows' cold embrace.
"Ah, Keizer. It is most good to see you. We have another mark for you. The Countess of Bruma, she has been dealing with the wrong side of the law for much too long now. Give her my best."
It was eight days ago that his master had given him instructions, in the small unknown room in the Arena Canton: his home away from home. It was indeed unusual for someone from the Morag-Tong to be dealing in Cyrodiil, but he didn't dare question the writs he was given. He just went to kill; it was what he did, and he did it well.
The castle door stood propped open, allowing a chain of supplies carried by castle workers to be brought in. It would be a stupid idea to try and hide in one of their crates; they would be filled with food supplies, though nothing as heavy as a Dark Elf. The three workers stopped for a small drink, undoubtedly to ebb away at the chill of the night. Now was his time to get in the castle. He didn't use an invisibility spell - magic wasn't an assassin's friend - instead he moved with such speed as to be not noticed by the unwary minds of any onlookers. Not ten seconds later he was in the large Bruma County hall. Under normal circumstances, he would have been seized by castle guards that instant, but they were momentarily detained... a bad case of fever. It was probably something in the Tamika's 399 that they drank every morning between 7:00 and 7:15, though no one could be sure; they drank it all before it could be tested for poison. They drank it all just like they did every morning. Keizer stalked his prey, those that surrounded them, those that have heard of them... and he did it well.
"Keizer, we don't know much about the countess so we can't be sure about her schedule. Though I'm sure there's an entrance to her chambers through the wine cellar... just to the right of the main entrance".
Keizer approached the door; it was unlocked, just as he knew it would be. Seven guards had just gotten off a 13-hour shift and they wanted ale; of course, in their tired condition, they forgot to close the door. Keizer slipped down the stairs, staying close to the wall and ignoring the gentle whisper of spider webs as they draped across his body. The temperature was increasingly getting lower, though it was nothing to rival the frigidness of the climate he had just come from. At the end of his descent he was greeted by a small room with only one passageway leading away from it. He took it, though from this part on his Master's instructions were vague.
"You shouldn't have too much trouble following the passageway, we don't know exactly how far of a distance it covers, but it will take you to the Countess' chambers either way."
It was dark as pitch in the following hallways; the dust was settled on the ground, and the mildew had become very familiar on the stone walls. This passage had remained unused for at least 2 years, that much was for sure. The darkness was not a comfortable kind, not the kind that you see in the corner of your bedroom at night. It was much more foreboding then that, like the area just beyond the ring of light provided by a campfire, right beyond what you knew to be safe and full of the unknown. He ignored his childish fear and pressed on only to be greeted by another door. This one he opened with caution: he knew not of what was beyond the door, whether it be a person, beast or more void, he had to be ready.
He pulled a small elven dagger from its sheath. The only weapon he had. He felt restricted and held back under the dead weight of swords. An assassin didn't need swords, a longer blade and more weight didn't help when slicing throats. The door swung open noiselessly which surprised Keizer, but did little to unsettle him. He put one foot out of the door way and felt an immediate change of temperature. He must be nearing her chamber, there would undoubtedly be a roaring fire in a pit that he would be able to stand in comfortably. There would be a maid in and out of the room, keeping the fire tended and making sure the countess stayed warm. That is to say, there would normally be a maid in the room if she wasn't already busy cleaning up after the workers got sick... perhaps they had too much to drink.
"You needn't worry about her having a husband, Keizer, he was put to rest in battle years ago.. you'll be doing her a favor... returning her to her lost love."
Keizer didn't need reassurances to do the killing: lost love or not, she would not live to see another beautiful Bruma sunrise. He had learnt not to care long ago, it came with the job. A single murder stripped the murderer of that beautiful gift, the gift to love. It was a great sacrifice for any person, but Keizer gave up that gift willingly. He despised the word and all that it entailed. Love... there was nothing more pointless in his mind. Nothing caused more anguish than that single word. No one had suffered more from a blade or axe than this single word. And he hated it.
He swung open the door and was in the ill-lit hallway directly outside her personal bedroom. A quick glance up and down the hallway told Keizer all he needed to know. There would be no witnesses. He creeped down the hallway and pushed open the door, widening the beam of light across the hallway. He got in quickly and returned the door to its original state... he couldn't attract any attention.
The Countess lay across her bed deeply settled under the covers. Her chest rose and fell slowly and she had a deep look of content on her face. She would not wake up. Keizer walked besider [sic] her bed and looked down at her from a standing position. She would spill no blood, Keizer didn't know what came over him but he couldn't bare to do something so barbaric to such a creature. Instead she would die peacefully with poison: some of the fastest acting poison in all the lands of Tamriel. He put three drops in her slightly opened mouth. Three drops was all it took, three tiny drops of liquid and she would be rid of the world forever. Keizer gazed upon her while the poison took hold of her body's system. Her pulse raced, sweat poured down her face and still she did not awake. For several seconds it went on like this, until everything stopped and her chest slowly lowered. A deep exhaling hiss escaped her lips. The Countess's last breath.
He stalked, invaded, and killed. And he did it well.