Chapter I


The sun rose slowly from behind the trees of Valenwood. It's peak rays glimmering through the trees like a spring mist. The leaves of the trees were damp with fresh morning dew dripping to the forest floor to quench the varies plant life's thirst. Amongst the forest hidden by surrounding tree growth was the village of Falinesti. One of the few tree-lining villages in the vast forests of Valenwood. Here, many Bosmer walked along the bridges of the "tree house" village. A small few Dunmer here, Imperial there, with flourishing shops to keep the provincial trade flowing through Tamriel. Yes things where quite peaceful here in this village. The hunters and scouts prepared for their daily patrols through the forest, but among the common rabble of the village one elderly Bosmer made his way through the village seemingly flustered. "Mourne! By the eight where has that girl gone to now? Mourne!" He called out, to any unusual passers by he would have looked like a madman. "Rulious!" The man came to a group of scouts making their way out of the village. Rulious, a tall Bosmer for his race turned to face the old man. "Gharen? What is it?' Gharen stopped to catch his breath placing his hand on Rulious' shoulder.

"My daughter is no where in the village, I woke up this morning hoping to see her tending to the garden or somewhere in the market to buy our monthly supplies. She wasn't in the tavern when I went back to check a second time!" Gharen cursed under his breath.

"You think she may be out in the forest? Doesn't she know it's dangerous in these parts, especially during the day with all the tribes?" Rulious rubbed the back of his neck leaning his head to the side as one of his fellow scouts whispered in his ear.

"I can't think of anywhere else she could be. Please while you are out on your patrol can you please see if you can find her and bring her back here. We were supposed to leave by mid-day to get back to our farm." Gharen looked up to the sky. "Seeing that we didn't get to shop for supplies that deadline won't happen."

"Fine Gharen alright. I'll look for her, that woman is such a handful for the both of us." Rulious chuckled a bit before wiping the smirk from his face seeing that Gharen was indeed serious.

"Yes, she's worse then she was when the both of you where children. Always wanting to go out and explore, wanting to be a great hunter. Well what good are those dreams when you go out and get eaten by a wilder beast, or one of those Vampires that are rumored to be around here. You tell her to meet me in the tavern, after she gets our supplies. I swear that girl is going to be the death of me." Gharen walked away mumbling as his temper hit it's balance. Rulious shook his head placing his hand over his eyes and dragging it down. "Alright lets go! remember be on your guard stay in groups of two, and if you see a woman bring her to me." The group moved out, walking down the tree ramp and out the gate. They split up vanishing into the mist of the morning.
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The sun climbed shinning brightly through a large opening of the canvas. A drop of dew rolled off a leaf free falling a few feet then splashing on the nose of a woman. Her eyes tightened then opened as another drop struck her cheek. She giggled as she sat up from a nap she had taken. She looked around seeing the wondrous beauty of the forest in the morning. The leaves had turned brown symbolizing the coming Frostfall. The suns rays were like lights from the god's through the early mist. Mourne stood on the branch carefully balanced then hugged the tree trunk. Her attention came to a bird who flew from branch to branch. Mourne held out her hand allowing the bird to perch on her finger. They both looked at each other for a brief few seconds until Morne smiled. "Go!" She said and the bird dove from her finger, she followed yelling with joy as she fell to the forest floor. She closed her eyes imagining herself with wings, how wonderful would that be. Soon her mind came back to reality as she heard her name being called from directly bellow her. She opened her eyes to look down. "Watch out!" She warned. But it was to late. Rulious looked up only to see a slim Bosmer female in brown linen pants and shirt land right on top of him. They tumbled briefly, Mourne laughed playfully. "That was fun!" She said as she got to her feet. Rulious sighed and rushed dirt from his arms. "Oh.. Sorry Rulious."

"Don't worry about it. It isn't everyday you have a woman fall on you while you patrol the forest." He got to his feet and picked up his longbow, checking it to see if it had been harmed in the tumble. "what are you doing out here anyways Mourne? Your father's worried sick about you!" Rulious scolded Mourne. "It's dangerous out here."

"I think I can take perfectly good care of myself Rulious! Besides I was looking for thorn-bellies. They didn't have any at the market, and you know how Gharen gets when he can't make his pies this season." Mourne crossed her arms swinging her hip to the side.

"Yeah I remember, but in any case, he told me to get you back to the village. You need to get the supplies and see him at the tavern." Rulious turned to the sound of the bushes rattling to see one of his scouts appear.

"I can get back on my own Rulious, thanks for the message. I'll leave you to your patrol, May the wood serve you well." Mourne bowed her head then walked by Rulious who gave a bow in return. "Be safe boys."

It wasn't long before Mourne made her way to the gate of the village. She lifted a small sack which she held in her right hand and smiled. "You better be happy I got these for you." She mumbled as she made her way up the ramp and to the tavern which was across the first bridge. Gharen waited at the closest table to the door in anxiety. He took a mouthful of water from his cup and looked around the tavern. He began to mumble something until his head jerked to the direction of the door where Mourne stood. Her golden blonde hair showed signs of dirt with a leaf sticking out on the side. "Where have you been Missy? Do you know the anxiety you have put me through this morning looking for you? I thought you where kidnapped, or worse!" Gharen quickly got from his chair to give Mourne a worried fathers hug and a kiss on the forehead. "No matter, did you get our supplies to the wagon?" Mourne nodded her head and tried to speak but Gharen interrupted. "Good, we can leave now. So much time wasted and so much to do when we get back to the farm." He picked up a sack and heaved it over his shoulder. "Thank you again Talhes, see you next season!" Mourne followed after Gharen as they left the tavern and made their way to the back gate. Gharen tossed the sack with the other cargo then sat in his seat next to Morne grabbing the reigns giving the horse the signal to go. This would probably be the only horse in Valenwood anyone would ever see, besides the occasional courier from the Imperial province, the only symbol Gharen and Mourne had of Mourne' mother.

((Well there is the beginning, feel free to P.M. me with comments or criticism, both are welcome ))

The trip was long traveling south past Silvenar into the deepest part of the northern forest. The sun had started to set making the thick forest darken more. Gharen seemed to be anxious about something glancing every which way here and there. He glanced at Mourne and sighed softly. "Looks like we'll set camp for the night, this forest is dangerous to travel when the sun sleeps." He pulled the reigns back signaling the horse to stop. I hoped we could make it home before nightfall. He thought to himself. Mourne had gotten off the wagon stretching her legs and her arms. Gharen dug out some blankets and some wood for the camp then handed Mourne a torch with some flint and steel. "Light this torch so we can find a decent enough spot to sleep, preferably close to the wagon." He glanced down the trail behind them with the look of fear in his eyes. Mourne took a container that hung from the side of the wagon pouring it's ooze like contents on the cloth wrappings of the torch scrapping the flint and steel together. It only took one try to get a good spark to light the torch, Mourne smirked impressed that her skills of survival had grown to be above average the past few months. The fire on the torch roared to life making her blue eyes sparkle. She looked around for a flat patch to make camp, moving rocks and evening the ground she made a perfect spot to sleep. "That will do." Gharen smiled laying down the blankets and piling the wood far enough away to not set them alight.

"You look worried father." Mourne announced seeing the fearful expressions on Gharen' face.

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm an old man with a young daughter in the middle of Valenwood at night." Gharen smiled to try and lighten the mood and draw the conversation away from his fear.

"You know I can take care of myself don't you?" Mourne gave a questioning glare to her father.

"Of course I do, you're just like your mother was." Gharen smiled and brushed Mourne' cheek gently. "You have her eyes, and her sense of adventure." Gharen chuckled taking the torch and lighting the fire pit he had made. He gazed into the dancing flames for a moment or two then sighed. "Look, if anything happens, and I were no longer here. I want you to travel to Cyrodill, to the city of Skingrad. There is a man there named Victor Creeg. He's an old friend of the family." Gharen looked to the sky, the little he could see through the canopy of the trees. Mourne looked at him with worry.

"What do you mean?" She asked with curiosity.

"Nothing you should worry about now, my dear daughter. Get some rest, we leave at dawn." Gharen smiled then before walking off to the wagon he gave Mourne a kiss on the head. Mourne worried, but then shrugged it off. Gharen was right she needed sleep, the only bit of sleep she's had for the past few days was that nap she had in the forest before falling on Rulious. She fixed her blankets and pillow laying her head down and in no time at all she fell into slumber.

The darkness of sleep soon filled with bright stars, and a silver moon. It was a different place, a place that seemed so familiar. Mourne looked around to see no trees, but a large flatland of tall wheat grass. The sky was soon filled with shooting stars, making a display of wonder. Mourne laughed and skipped, much like she did when she was a child. Running her hands across the top of the tall grass. This dream was the only dream she had that gave her peace of mind. The dream she thought about every waking moment, giving her the wanting, the lust to go out and explore new places other then Valenwood. Her spirit was wild, attuned to the forces of nature around her. You could say all Bosmer feel the same way, the free ever lustful spirits wanting more then just one land, one culture. The aspiration of adventure, the curiosity which drives them everyday. Or perhaps, it was just this woman who felt it. It would never be known, but one thing for sure was, as Gharen said, Mourne is much as her mother was. So much Mourne would love to know about her mother besides what Gharen tells her. This dream is the closest thing Mourne has to her mother. There are no memories or good times, Mourne' mother died just a few days after she was born. Making every step in life difficult for this young Bosmer, her choices unknown even to her. Not knowing what her mother would want or whether she would be proud or angry. One thing Mourne know about her mother for sure, was the spirit of freedom. It was almost as if her mother still existed in her soul. The dream became more pleasant, but something was different now. "Mourne.." A woman appeared. A slim young Bosmer. Mourne approached slowly, the woman continued to say her name over and over.

Something felt wrong, Mourne became anxiety stricken. Her eye's opened, her body jerked forward. "Mourne!" Gharen cried out her name from behind the wagon. The sound of steel striking steel rang through the forest. Mourne quickly got to her feet running to the wagon seeing a man in dark armor fall to the ground. Gharen appeared dropping the sword he held. Mourne couldn't help notice his hand clutching his side, dripping with blood. Mourne gasped but before she could say anything, a sharp whistle rang passed her face. Gharen coughed, blood escaping his mouth as the arrow punctured his ribcage near his heart. "Go, Now!" He grabbed a rolled up bundle from under the wagon pushing it into Mourne' arms and fell to his knees looking into his daughter' eyes. "Go, Now!" Mourne shook her head, then another arrow pierced her father making her jump and bolt to the horse. She pulled herself to the horses back then pressed her heels into its side hard making the horse sprint forward down the trail. Arrows shot passed her, one successfully scratching her right cheek. She paid the small wound no mind, concentrating on one thing alone, her survival. The horse didn't stop, even now with the campfire consumed by the darkness of the wood behind them. An hour passed or maybe two? It felt like a long time. Mourne finally relaxed, the horse stopped. Tears rolled down her face, tears of agony and pain. Her heart felt like it was in pieces, Her only family she had left was gone, and for what reason? She didn't care, all she could think about was seeing her father die right in front of her. She leaned forward resting her head against the horses mane, but only to jerk back as the horse fell to its side. Mourne rolled to the side and looked up at the horse. Three arrows stuck out half way from between it's shoulder-blade, puncturing it's vital organs.

Mourne cried out in agony reaching out for the horse. But it was no use, it slowly drifted away into an unending slumber. Mourne screamed, picking up the satchel Gharen gave her and running south through the forest, in the direction of the farm. She ran for what seemed forever, not looking back, with no light to guide her. Soon her legs felt weak, her footing became clumsy, all it took was a small stone to block her path, she fell hard, her head hitting the ground and the world drifted away. She became unconscious.

Chapter II: Tears of a child


The world become swallowed by a black abyss. Mourne felt as though she was free falling into an endless pit, without fear, without emotion. It felt as though everything was spinning around her. Soon the darkness shifted into color. Trees and sky rolled out before her. The sun breached the canopy of the forest giving light to the farm which she stood in. The flowers of the garden where in blossom and the sweet aroma of Gharen' pies freshly baked filled the air. "Mourne? Honey don't give up. Level your arm and feel the weight of the bow. Be the arrow." Gharen fixed her posture. "That's it. Now take your time, aim and let it fly when you are ready." Mourne focused on the bail of hay which was her target. A wooden board strapped to it with three rings and a dot in the center. Mourne took in a deep breath and let go of the arrow she had perfectly perched, lined with her arm. The arrow whistled forward as the string snapped forward. A loud thud sounded as the arrow struck the center dot of the target. "That's my girl!" Gharen praised his daughter. "Your mother would be so proud." Mourne could feel nothing, no joy, no happiness. Not even the smile on her face. A sweet soft voice echoed from the sky. "Wake up dear." Mourne felt a sharp stinging sensation on her cheek, she rubbed her hand wiping blood from a cut. "Mourne, dear, you are dreaming. Wake up." The voice came again. A slim bosmer woman appeared from thin air in front of Mourne smiling, her blue eye's were beautiful. Mourne made an attempt to speak but no words escaped her mouth. "It's alright, you're safe now. Wake up."

Everything went dark again soon a mans voice could be heard. "Wake up young elf." Mourne opened her eyes the dim light stinging. She blinked once, then again. Her vision became clear to see a redguard looking down at her. "She's awake Marha, go get him." The Redguard continued to look down at Mourne. "You're alright, take your time. I'll see you outside when you are fully awake." The Redguard stood and left the tiny room which was furnished with a dresser and a portrait above it. A small green stained glass window let in light from the outside. Mourne sat up quickly only to be punished by a shard sting in her side and ache in her head. She shrugged it all away and got to her feet. She kept the blanket wrapped around her half nvde body as she scanned the room. A stack of clean cloths where left on top of the dresser. A blue long sleeve shirt and a matching blue silk skirt with leather boots. Mourne dressed quickly then made her way out of the room and down the stairs into the dinning room where the Redguard stood looking out the kitchen window. Mourne scanned this new room her senses flooding with anxiety and curiosity of her new surroundings. This architecture was different then usual Valenwood hovels and huts. There was fresh fruit on the table in the center of the room. Mourne grabbed an apple and took a bite. The redguard turned around to face her . "Good afternoon, how are you feeling?" He asked with a smile. Mourne chewed and swallowed giving quick glances around the room.

"Where am I?" She asked with caution keeping herself attuned to her surroundings.

"You are safe, we are in New Kvatch, a city of Cyrodill on the border of Valenwood. Me and my wife and a few companions where in a trade cartel. We found you unconscious on the side of the road. You suffered a gash on your head so we acted quickly to heal you." The Redguard sat down at the table holding out his hand offering Mourne a seat. Mourne obliged and sat comfortably on the bench rolling the apple in between her hands. "I'm Bronus, fighter' guild veteran, blacksmith and weapons master. My wife is Marha, she'll be back in a bit, we have someone here you might know." Bronus blalled his hands together, and the front door opened with the sound of two pairs of footsteps sounded through the entrance. A Redguard woman with curly short hair garbed in tanned clothing appeared from behind the wall, followed by a huge Nord in fur armor. His beard was braided into two halves, his hair shoulder length with tribal braiding on the sides and a blue tattoo on the side of his face of a dragon. Bronus stood and approached the Nord with a handshake. "She's awake and well by the looks." Bronus explained Mounre' condition of which they found her. The Nord' eyes watered with sad news who knew he might hear from his god-child. He turned his head and cleared his throat.

"What happened?" He asked in a stern Nord voice. Mourne looked at him, her eye's watering with the painful flashbacks of that night.

"My father and I where on our way to our farm. We made camp during the night. I woke up hearing him calling me. Men in black armor attacked us."

"And your father?" The Nord quickly asked. Seeing tears now fall down Mourne' face gave him a much too familiar crushing feeling in his heart and gut. Mourne started to cry.

"It's all my fault, we would have been home before nightfall if I wasn't so childish!" she lashed out dropping the apple to the floor.

"No, it's not your fault Mourne." The Nord wiped the tears from Mourne' face. "You need to be strong. You're mother and father would both want that for you. Honor that." He implied sternly. Mourne looked up at him.

"How do.."

"I'm Victor Creeg, or Victor Cragskorn in my native lands of Skyrim." Victor Looked at Bronus. "Did you tell her?" Bronus sighed.

"No, I didn't think it was her for sure." Bronus looked to his wife. "We should give them privacy, I have a feeling this won't end well." Marha nodded her head and they both left the two alone.

A grim silence settled for awhile. Mourne was lost in her mind reliving that day and gruesome night. Victor stood leaning against the wall with his arm's crossed thinking of what to say. Before he could say anything Mourne stood still looking at the table. "He knew it would happen. He hinted it that night." Victor eyed Mourne questionably. "He told me to find you in Skingrad if anything where to happen to him." She looked up at him. "Who did this?" Victor opened his mouth but hesitated.

"The Dark Brotherhood has been hunting you sense your mother died.." Mourne' face went from sorrow to anger.

"What do you mean sense my mother died? Did they kill her too? Why didn't he tell me any of this? He knew!" Mourne threw a fit much like a young girl. Lightly pounding her fists into Victors chest. "You knew! You could have stopped this from happening!" She kicked his shin, but with a quick reaction he wrapped his arms around her holding her still.

"I thought he had eluded them! It was only a matter of time Mourne! Now stop you're childish tantrum and stop taking this out on me, I'm not your enemy!" he bellowed letting go of Mourne. She backed up and stared at Victor for brief moment. Victor' face was red with anger, he calmed himself and sighed with a grunt. "C'mon, I'll take you to you're new home for the time being, Skingrad is only a few hours by horseback. To the east of here, there we will talk more about the subject." Mourne attempted to refuse, but Victor had already gone outside. She sighed then followed. "Bronus! We're heading back to Skingrad, thank you for tending to her." Victor called out to Bronus with a voice like thunder. Bronus nodded and waved. "Mourne!" Marha yelled after them with the satchel Gharen gave Mourne. "don't forget this." She said handing the satchel to Mourne. Mourne smiled then turned to follow Victor. They made their way through the front gate of the city. Victor payed the stable keeper a few septims and brought out two bay horses. "I hope you know how to ride these." He said handing Mourne the reigns of her Bay horse. She rolled her eyes then pulled her way onto the saddle and they both rode down the mountain top city and headed east to Skingrad.

The sun had tilted in the sky. Mourne couldn't help but stare off into the distance in the direction of Valenwood. A piece of her missed her home already, long has she craved to leave the solitude of the wood and see different lands. But she felt as though this wasn't her choice. She was forced into leaving, and with such sorrow. She had never imagined herself without her father. He was everything to her and she was everything equally to him. And this Nord, is her last piece of said family? She couldn't fathom the thought that a Nord was her family. Especially one she didn't know, besides the countless stories her father told her of when him and her mother traveled Tamriel. She sighed deeply feeling the pain in her heart again, like it was cracking slowly, torturing her. She thought of the days her father would scold her. When she would wander into the forest by herself as a little girl. Now as she thinks deeper, Gharen was always protective of her. Maybe his obsession of protection for his only daughter was because of his fear that one day they would be found by the dark Brotherhood? It seemed logical, but alas, she missed her father. The more she thought about that night, the more the hate inside her soul grew and burned furiously. I will never forget, I will never forgive. She thought in her head as anger swelled inside her. She looked to Victor, eying him up and down. He was a big man, such told to her in Gharen' tales of Nords. She felt her anger boil over then relaxed. Victor was right, he wasn't the enemy. The Dark Brotherhood was. She shook her head slightly then scanned the surrounding wilderness.

The southern country side was a beautiful site. Much had changed sense the Oblivion gates were closed completely. Mehrunes Dagon' plans thwarted by the Champion of Cyrodill so many years ago. Gharen spoke much of that tale. The brave mysterious hero, came like a blessing from Akatosh himself. One downside to the tale and a hard truth was, the aftermath required the only heir to the imperial throne to disappear in Akatosh' flame. A sad story but with great meaning. Now the countryside flourished with golden Wheat grass, many curious wildlife, trees and farms. She admired the sight, until Victors loud grunt caught her attention. "We're here." He said pointing to the city walls just up the road. Mourne was stricken by awe at the site of such beautiful architecture. They came closer to see the gate with two guards standing at their posts. The marble slabs of stone that made up the wall were a sight to behold to the young Bosmer. As they entered the gates it struck her even more. The cobble stone roads and bridges were magnificent. They didn't have anything like it in Valenwood. The buildings were majestic in their own way. The brick and stone glowing like they had light of their own as the sun' light shun on them. "The horses stay here, we walk now, something you should be used to, aye?" Victor and Mourne unmounted the horses, two young men came from the stable and led the horses to the pen. "This way." Victor said leading up some stone steps, past what looked like a mage' guild manor and down to the end of the road where a medium sized stone house awaited for their arrival. Victor opened the door allowing Mourne to enter first before he stepped into the marble entry way shutting the door behind them.

"Your room is upstairs. I've already took the liberty to fill the Armoir and dresser with clothing for you." Victor pointed up the stairs to the only door. "I have to leave for awhile, I have some business to take care of. I'll back before super time." Victor cleared his throat one last time before nodding and leaving the house. Mourne stared at the door then sighed heavily then looked around. The house was clean, with a bear skin rug on the floor in front of the fireplace. The walls were decorated with trophies and armaments. Shields, swords, axes, hammers hung for display. The biggest feature in the room was the large wolf head over the mantle of the fireplace. At least what looked like a wolf. When Mourne finished getting acquainted with the house she headed up stairs to her room. This room was no different then the rest of the house. A skin rug on the floor with various fur blankets on the bed, except no trophies or weapons on the walls. Mourne opened the armoir to see a few dresses hanging. She looked through the dresses showing no interest in any of them, besides one. A red and black laced dress. This was more her then anything, and oddly, made Mourne think of her mother. She smiled and put the dress back and closed the armoir.

She looked at the wrapped bundle Gharen had given her. She had almost forgotten about it. She unwrapped it and her eyes widened in amazement. It was a golden elven longbow, and a black leather quiver with a silver lining around the top filled with fifteen fine steel arrows. A note poked out of the quiver. Mourne opened the envelope and pulled out a letter Gharen had made for her.

My beautiful daughter Mourne,

If you are reading this then, the worst has happened and I am no longer with you. I'm saddened to write this, if you haven't learned by now from Victor, we have been hunted down sense your mother died. I have heard rumors lately that the Dark Brotherhood have been hunting the forest for us. I have tried all my life to protect you and make you happy Mourne, much like your mother would. The truth is, your mother didn't die by illness. She was killed by assassins herself. She was once a sister among their ranks, and I was her contract. We knew each other for years before she was taken in by the brotherhood, we fell in love and they killed her for turning her back on them. We eluded them for years and thought we had lost them. Then after you were born they found us. Your mother fought bravely against them so you and I could live, and I will do the same so you can have a future. Victor is one of the masters of the fighters guild, I have asked him to train you and take you under his wing. This bow I give you was your mothers. May it serve you well as it did her. You must understand dear daughter, I did what I had to to keep you safe, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I should have never lied to you.

Your loving father.

Mourne' eyes began to water. Her anger grew more and more intense the more she learned about these assassins, but what could she do? A fire lit in her eyes. The Dark Brotherhood would pay. She swore it in her heart she would make them pay two fold for both her mother and father.

((Well from here on the story is in progression, I made different posts to be safe and not give everyone a loong read, wanted to give some relief in between. I'll post the next chapter sometime this week depending on my schedule. anyways feel free to leave comments and thoughts. :3 )

Chapter III: From the shadow of despair


The sun had finished its decent in the sky. The city fell quiet as the stars made artwork in the sky. Victor had stepped out of his shop with a small wooden box. He stopped to examine the contents, his greatest work he had every accomplished as a blacksmith. He gave a grunt then proceeded down the road back to his house. "Evening Victor." A guard passing by gave a pleasant greeting. Victor nodded his head in return not halting his steps. It wasn't a far walk, his shop being just down the cobble stone path from his house. He passed through the front gate stepping one foot on the steps to the door when he heard darting Thuds from behind the house. He raised a brow and made his way around the house. Thud, Thud. He heard more and as he was in clear view of his archery range he saw Mourne. She perched an arrow perfectly drawing back the string of her mothers bow. Taking a quick second to aim she let loose the arrow which made hit it's target on a wooden target.

This brought back memories of her mother back. Her stance, her posture and concentration was no different then Lihana'. Victor was consumed with memories of her while she was in the fighters guild. He quickly shook his head and approached Mourne. The sound of another arrow hitting the target rang like a bell. "Good form." Victor praised. Mourne' concentration did not falter before she shot another arrow, it whistled then struck it's destination. Mourne lowered her bow relaxing from her stance and turned to Victor with a sigh. The expression which now was apparent on her face showed she was frustrated, angry even. She looked at the box under his arm. "What is that?" she asked curiously. Victor looked down at the box, more memories flooding his mind. He looked back at Mourne and smiled.

"Something I made for a guild member. She joined recently." His lie concealed.
"Oh, is she getting it tomorrow?" Mourne asked still staring at the box.
"Not until I see what she's made of. Now get inside I'm going to make us some venison stew!" He smiled and laughed humbly. Mourne nodded then walked back into the house. Victor watched her movement. It was fluid, balanced. "Not until you are ready." He whispered looking down at the box. "Lihana, this is for you." He took in a deep breath and entered the house.

The next day came quickly. Mourne was still sleeping her usual dream filled her with peace. Victor opened the door slowly surprised she was still sleeping. He had left early to talk to the guild master then just returned to bring her back with him. He contorted his face then sighed, clearing his throat loudly to wake her up. she slept through the noise. He shook his head then approached the bed tossing a wrapped bundle heavily ontop of the sleeping Bosmer. "Get up you small elf!" He bellowed. Mourne jumped out of bed with a sudden shock of panic. Victor laughed at the humor of it. Mourne ran her hand through her hair. "What was that for? You almost gave me a heart attack!" She made a sharp gaze at Victor who was still chuckling. Mourne looked down to see she was still half undressed and quickly pulled the blanket over her. Victor pointed at the package he had dropped on her that was still on the bed. "Get it on and meet me downstairs." He said still chuckling as he turned and walked out of the room and back downstairs. Mourne growled in frustration then looked at the wrapped bundle. She sat on the edge of the bed pulling the package to her. She opened it with no hesitation. To her surprise it was leather armor? The question bounced around in her head. What do I need this for? she starred at the set blankly then proceeded to dress.

Victor waited leaning against the door with his arms crossed patiently waiting. Soon Mourne slowly crept down the steps. Victor' eyes widened to the sight, as if a ghost from the past had visited him in the form of Mourne. Her leather armor was black as midnight, the boots lined with grey wolf fur on the top, the pants fitting very well to her legs and waist. The top sleeveless and short cut exposing her belly, with beaded straps lassoed around her upper arms. She fixed her hair as she took one last step off the stairs to see Victor' expression. "What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost." She was half right in her guess. Victor fixed his expression and blinked. He stood and opened the front door. "That armor belonged to your mother." He replied before walking out of the house motioning his hand for Mourne to follow. Mourne watched him walk out and looked down at the black armor and smirked. The more I wonder, the more I'm awarded with a piece of you. She took in a deep breath then followed Victor to the Fighters Guild Hall.

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Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary: Location unknown

Senguine My brother. A low patient voice escaped from the hooded figure answering the riddle of the enchanted door to the Sanctum of his family. A dark aura glided across the red door changing the distinct artwork from a caring mother and her children to a banshee and corpses. The door cracked and creaked open. The hooded man step through the door way into a large room with two support pillars and behind them a large staircase leading upwards with two downward staircases on both sides. The man made his way upward to his mistresses chambers. Passing by others of the family, all in the same black armor as his. He quickly rushed through the library paying no attention to the glares and the whispers of the others. The sanctum had a dark feeling about it with it's dark stone walls and few torches that lit its halls. The feeling of dread surpassed by a cold shiver down his spine as he came closer and closer to his destination. He turned right down a long hallway with double doors at the end. as he came near he paced himself. Thinking of what to say to his mistress. He fished around in a small pocket on his chest pulling out the signet ring of his prey then clenched his fist around it. Preparing himself he slowly opened the door. Behind it was a room separated from the rest of the sanctum. It was lavishly decorated with silk draqes around a violet round bed. A fireplace in the center of the back wall with bookshelves filled with dark literature. The floor was made up of dark wooden planks with a red rug which lay in the center. The room was bright which would give anyone the sense of comfort.

"My child, you have returned." A serene voice came from behind velvet draqes that hung from the ceiling. The man calmed his nerves quite easily and approached.
"Yes, mistress." He kneeled head tilted downward holding out his hand, offering the ring.

A shadow moved behind the draqes slowly, separating both sides. A pale woman garbed in a black gown, laced on the sides. Her eye's colored a piercing dark red at the iris and her hair like silk matching the color of her black lips perfectly. Her fingers where slender, with sharp nails colored in blood red. She smiled and took the ring from the assassins hand. "So they are dead? That Nord was right after all." Her smile gave no expression of happiness but evil triumph. Now we can get back to our lives as a Brotherhood. With that bloodline extinguished we have nothing to fear." She slipped the ring on her finger then placed her hand under the mans chin lifting him from his kneel. "You did well my pet.." As his face became visible she saw disappointment through his icy gaze. "LIAR!" She struck him with her hand, her nails leaving deep cuts in his face. He removed his hood exposing his Elven face. "How did the daughter survive Tevash?" She screeched horrifically.

"She took a horse and rode away from the ambush. Our archers sent her volleys until she was too far." He kept his posture standing completely still. "By all due respect mistress, she could be dead in the forest, I shot the last arrow with the toxin I saw it scraqe her face."
"If she is indeed dead.. Then it would make it much easier for you and your brothers to find her on the forest floor." The woman hinted as she walked to her bed. "Go now, I am weary of this tiresome hunt." She collapsed on her bed using magicka to close the draqes. Tevash bowed and turned but before he could walk out her voice sounded again. "And Tevash, if she is not dead... Don't come back without her, dead or alive! Or you will take her pace in death and see the dread father for your punishment." Tevash stood there for a brief moment then walked back down the hallway.

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Skingrad Fighters Guild: Two months later


Mourne stoop looking into the mirror with anticipation. All her training was harsh, but she was ready for this moment. Her first assignment, but first, she had one final test. Victor entered the dinning area and approached her. "It is time Mourne." He said placing his hand on her shoulder. Mourne smile and quickly turned to give her Nord godfather a hug. Victor smiled and returned the hug. "Master Vharous is waiting in the training room, Don't keep him waiting." Victor led Mourne to the Basemant door and opened it for her. Mourne took in a deep breath and climbed down the stairs. She had no ounce of nervousness in her. She was ready and she new it. Who would doubt it? she was the best of the newest guild members. Her skill with bow and blade were remarkable, maybe even legendary in the guild. Through all the hardship and pain, in the end it was always her mother that drove her to push harder and never back down. Mourne became stronger then she ever was. She came to the training room where an older Dunmer Stood sword and shield in hand, waiting. Mourne approached slowly and cautious as learned in her training. Once she entered the dueling circle, it started. Master Vharous spun around swinging his sword in a diagonal path. Mourne bent backwards stretching her back muscles avoiding the blade. Vharous swung again this time downwards, Mourne unsheathing her two short swords crossing them together to deflect the deadly blow. Vharous quickly jerked his sword back then pushed his shield forward knocking Mourne to the ground. He leaped in the air sending the hilt of his blade to her face, Mourne rolled away just in time. Quickly getting to her feet it was her turn to strike while his back was turned to her.

She slashed with her right sword only to be deflected by Vharous' shield. His movement was quick pushing Mourne back and slashing at her torso deflected by her left sword. Mourne countered with a spin to Vharous' back sending him forward, then stabbing with her right sword. Vharous' dropped his shield side stepping unsheathing his second sword. This is what Mourne was waiting for. She could never best Vharous' duel-wielding, they always came to a draw, but not this time. Yes Vharous knew all of the basic stances, which Mourne used practically all of them, but what he didn't know was Mourne created her own unique stance. Fit for both offense and defense. Taking her opponent by surprise, at least that is what she planned. She had been up all night practicing and perfecting it. Vharous took his stance, his right over his head, the left sword across his chest. He called this the sleeping dragon. His defensive stance, it was strong against almost every attack, but one. No apprentice, has ever found away to defeat him this way. Mourne on the other hand, had spotted the weak point the last time she dueled Vharous. "Take your stance Mourne!" Vharous ordered. Mourne smirked.

"I am." She answered back with confidence, holding her swords in a backwards position, standing normally with her arms loose at her sides. Vharous grunted then gave a nod. Soon the battle began once more. Mourne charged in slashing and thrusting, Vharous would predict every strike, he always did, and he did just that, all the basic strikes Mourne did he deflected and then it got more difficult. Mourne had to predict when he would strike back. Counting in her head "1, 2, 3." Vharous made his move, a thrust with his left. Mourne blocked with her right. again she counted. "1, 2, 3, 4." Vharous struck again this time with both blades, sweeping them in an arc in front of him. This was it, a break in the dragon. Mourne backed up slightly a small cut from one of the blades across her belly. She acted quickly making precise strikes with both blades simultaneously, slashing, thrusting, sweeping and chopping. Soon the gap appeared. Mourne thrust both her blades. Vharous initiated his stance again, but this time it wouldn't help. In the middle of Mourne' thrust she brought back her right blade, leaving the successful block of her left, causing Vharous to block with both of his blades, leaving his back exposed. Mourne spun around him sending both swords against his back. The duel was over. Vharous dropped his blades turning to face the young Bosmer. "Very well done, spectacular." He said bowing.

Victor clapped from the stairs. "This is the first time I have ever seen you fight so hard Vharous." He laughed.
"This is the first time I have been bested in ages, mind that." Vharous breathed heavily. "Well done Mourne, your style is impressive." He walked over to a small lock box sitting on a small round table, opened it and removed a folded piece of parchment. "Here is a map of Cyrodill, it will help you navigate on your assignments." He handed it to Mounre, who accepted it willingly.
"Thank you Master Vharous. When do I begin my first assignment?" She asked anxiously.
"There are a few trolls not too far from the city walls wreaking havoc on the nearby Farms. I need you to go out their find them and dispatch them. Bring back a tooth to prove you have accomplished the mission. They should be held up in a cave to the north west."
"If they are still out there I'll find them." Mourne gave a bow and went on her way.
"I'll be at my shop, Make sure when she gets back you give her the twin blades Vharous." Victor turned to head upstairs.
"I will first thing. Oh and victor.." Vharous placed his hand on the Nord' shoulder. "Rumors about say Dark Brotherhood assassins have been sighted in the city, watch your back old friend."

chapter IV: One for the pocket, one for the blade

Three weeks had passed, the cold chill of Frostfall washed over the imperial province. Snow had fallen, the ground turning white rather rapidly, as the local vegetation had been covered in frost. The branches of pine trees ached and moaned with the weight of heavy snow upon them. The crunch of snow shifting under Mourne' steps could only be heard by her own ears as she crept, rounding a most recent bandit camp that had been set up just southwest of Bruma. The enchanted armor kept her warm and had shifted it's color to match the snow. A mysterious piece of her mother yet to be truly discovered by her. Bow in hand with an arrow already perched waiting for it's masters command, Mourne halted her patrol around the camp. There were four bandits, just like the local guard had said. One Dunmer sleeping in an open tent, one Nord making a slow patrol around the camp, many times had he passed by Mourne without a single notice of her. She had adapted to the art of stealth, it is what has kept her alive on some of her most recent assignments.

Two bandits stood around the camp fire to keep warm, Imperials by the looks. Mourne slowly pulled out another arrow from her quiver placing it perpendicular beside the other, separating both with her index finger. She carefully took aim pulling back the string. She focused waiting for her chance. Both bandits where lined up, an impossible shot. Mourne kept her poster waiting, until finally the front bandit swayed to the side stretching his side. Mourne released the string and both arrows whistled towards their targets successfully felling both quietly. Mourne stood from her position and casually walked into the camp, retrieving both arrows. She turned her head to the sleeping Dark Elf, unsheathing a dagger from her back. She approached slowly, making sure to not wake him. She knelt beside him watching him sleep like he was an innocent man. More like a dead convict to her. She placed the dagger at the mans throat and as he awakened to the cold steel she covered his mouth and quickly made the cut. He struggled, but only for a few seconds until all of his blood covered the ground.

Mourne paid no attention to her handy work as she sat next to the fire and waited. Wiping the edge of the daggers blade and sheathing it. She tossed the cloth in the snow, and out of the bushes in front of her, was her last target. The Nord looked at the cold bodies of his now deceased comrades. His face reddened with anger. "You!" He yelled in fury. "How did you? I will cleave your head!" He dashed forward chopping down with his great axe. Mourne jumped to the side a smirk found it's way on her face. The axe split the stool in two, but the quick Mourne only angered the barbarian more. He turned swinging his axe repeatedly. Mourne grabbed the handle allowing the momentum of the Nord' swing to pull her, allowing her to swing and flip, her boots meeting the Nord' face. He staggered back dropping his axe. "Damn you elf! I will rip you apart!" He yelled shaking his head. Mourne charged forward to give another kick, but in the middle of her legs momentum the Nord grabbed it and tossed her aside.

Mourne bounced and rolled back on her feet looking up in time to see the Nords' axe twirling at her through the air. She ducked under it unsheathing her mothers' swords. as the Nord charged at her with a short sword he took from the corpse of his dead comrade. Mourne deflecting the thrust giving a cocky smirk, but to her surprise the Nord' strength allowed him to swing the sword back. Mourne had barely dodged, the blade leaving a stinging wound in it's wake. She winced at the burning pain, but held her wits on the battle. The Nord rushed again with another swing but Mourne moved in time to make the counter kill stepping back then made a forward thrust into the Nord' stomach. He dropped his sword placing his hands around Mourne' neck, making a last attempt. Mourne coughed and fought against the Nord' strength then forced her blades deeper into the flesh in an upwards angle. The Nord coughed, and with the loosening of his grip he fell to the ground. Mourne breathed heavily her breath seen clearly in the cold. As she sheathed her blades a flash of pain ran through her body from the wound. she clutched her side in reaction to the pain and fell to her knees.

She reached into her satchel quickly pulling out its contents until she found a vial of clear fluid. She removed the cork and quickly drank. The taste was bitter, but was worth the outcome. The pain slowly went away until there was only the sting of the cold against the open wound. She unrolled the cloth she pulled out of her satchel and wrapped it around her torso using a steel pin to hold it in place. Mourne slowly stood then looked at the dead bandits. That was for the girls mother you sick fiends. She muttered spitefully as she walked away from the camp finding her horse just a few meters away, and rode back to Bruma. A trip which took only an hour she finally came upon the cities gates. Leaving her horse at the stable she proceeded to the house of her contractor. Turning left after she passed through the gate, two houses past the tavern she came across a Breton male who greeted her with a smile. "Are the bastards dead?" he asked in high hopes. Mourne smiled clutching the bandaged wound on her side. "The Nord put up a fight, but they can no longer trouble your or any family of this city again."

The Breton' eyes began to water. "Thank you. Thank you so much. May my wife watch over you in your travels, as you avenged her death where as I could not." He handed Mourne a sack of coins which Mourne accepted kindly. "The coin for the guild and a little extra for you!" Mourne looked at the small coin purse then took her share of the profit and gently placed it in the Breton' hands.
"Keep it for you and your daughter." Mourne smiled and walked away, a saint. The Breton watched her. His daughter approached his side.
"Did the lady elf drive of the mean men daddy?" She asked giving her father a hug.
"Yes Lily, she did. And did not take any profit for herself.." He kept looking down the road even as Mourne was out of sight.

Mourne handed five septims to the Bosmer who ran the stables of the city with a smile and a kind thank you. She mounted brushing the horses mane with her hand. "Lets go home now Masue." She spoke softly, gripping the reigns. The horse snorted shaking its head and soon enough it began the journey back to Skingrad. The trip took them into the night, being nearly halfway home. Mourne pulled on the reigns halting the horses advance near a quiet clear pond. She took the muzzle off the horses snout giving a gentle pat on the chin. "This is a beautiful spot to set camp for the night." she said looking at the pond. It reflected the now clear sky, stars and all. The area was peaceful, to both the senses and the stillness. Mourne closed her eyes taking in a steady deep breath of the crisp night air.

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There was his target just in reach, finally. after so long of tracking the young woman down. It seemed so easy as she stood there, Unknowing of anything but the pure beauty of her surroundings. Tevash had his chance. But this young Bosmer was patient. If what the Nord back in Skingrad said was true, this woman would prove very difficult to apprehend, dead or alive. Those words bounced around in his head. Just hearing the voice again from memory was enough to make his bones chill. He had to think rationally.

If he were to fail, he would be a dead man either way, either by this woman's sword. or his mistresses wrath. Either way he would face Sithis, the dread father. No he would take his time with this one. He stood there in the shadow of the tree which he leaned on watching. He thought about every scenario, which was very few, that wouldn't lead to bloodshed. He glanced around at the four others that where with him. All eager to dig their daggers into that lovely flesh. Then it hit him, a most fool proof plan. The Nord! He smirked evilly. Yes, it was brilliant.

The Nord, Victor, was her god-father, her only family she had left. Tevash grinned wickedly at the thoughts coursing through his head. He gave one last look at the woman, then placed his hand on his companions shoulder pulling him away from the others. "what is it Tevash, what are your orderss?" The Argonian lowered his hood. Tevash gave the plan one last thought then smiled

"The lady wants the Nord dealt with Sveinht. I'm leaving this opportunity to you. I know how you have longed for the chance to slit Victor' throat. Now is your chance brother."
"Ah, I see. How should thiss be accomplished?" The Argonian gave a horrid smile, showing his razor sharp teeth.
"Wait until noon tomorrow, right before he opens his shop. Make it discrete like always brother."
"Finally, I can give the fool what has been coming to him. No one spits in the eyes of Sveinht, Shadow Scale of the Brotherhood." With that said, Sveinht walked off into the darkness.

Tevash smiled again and chuckle under his breath. "I'm sorry to be sending you to your death brother, but this is for my mistress!" He whispered. The plan was set into motion, now to fully light the fire. Tevash removed his armor, setting it down between the tree and some bushes that circled it, carefully as to not make a sound. He proceeded to take exquisite clothing out from his satchel keeping his boots on the side. He gave one last glance at the woman, feeling the sensation of victory, his mistress would indeed be pleased. He dressed himself, slipping back into his boots. His companions knew the signal. As soon as they heard him whistle a bird call they would go in, but instead of killing the woman, they had to die themselves. A small cost for a greater reward, maybe a promotion he was long overdue for. He buckled his sword belt to his waist and slipped his quiver on his back.

Now the woman was setting up her camp fire. venturing away from her horse to grab wood and kindling. The was Tevash' chance. He crept around behind the bushes until he reached the horse. He became silent, if he startled the horse the plan would fail. The horse snorted and shook its head, ears moving every direction listening to every sound around the area. Tevash took his dagger and cut the rope which leashed the horse to the tree. He moved into the bushes near the horse and waited.
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Mourne picked up branches and twigs as she hummed a lullaby her father used to sing to her. There was nothing wrong with this night, even with the crisp cold night air, everything was peaceful. After picking up the last twig she headed back to the camp where she placed rocks in a circle and put the twigs and wood she found in the center on top of some dead grass and leaves. It took her a few strikes with the flint and steel to get the fire going, but once the right spark hit, the fire was alight. Mourne took another look around the area as she sat next to the fire.

Her mind was at the least, at ease. This place gave her comfort, if she had it her way she would never leave. Unknown to the danger that eluded her senses she relaxed leaning against the tree which leashed Masue. She closed her eyes feeling the warm welcome of sleep washing over her, which was interrupted by the bushes rattling. She looked behind her to hear a bird chirping. Something was not right, but before she gave any thought an arrow made its impact on the tree trunk. Mourne turned to see men in black armor. "The night mother shall reward us gracefully once we deliver your pretty head!" One of the assassins laughed and soon they charged. Mourne unsheathed her blades and the battle began with the rings of steel clashing against steel.

Mourne was overwhelmed, doing her best to deflect the quick attacks of multiple enemies, kicking one back, gutting another. To make matters worst an arrow had found its way into her right shoulder. She winced and dropped her sword. Another assassin made an attempt to finish her but with a final reaction she blocked the strike, the assassin countering and knocking away her other sword and kicking her to the ground. The pain in her should intensified, a burning sensation sweeping through out her body. Her eyes became heavy with fatigue, she made every attempt to stay awake. It was useless, as her eyes began to close she at the last few seconds of consciousness she bare witnessed to a volley of arrows flying over her hitting the two assassins making their way to make the killing blow, and a man jumped out from the bushes sword in hand fighting the group off.

And then, darkness...

As I lay helpless to the fate of death, only few thoughts ran through my mind. The memories of all I had witnessed, my childhood without a mother, and the death of my father before my eyes. I became the victim, from the shadows of my own despair I trained myself to fight those who hunted me, only to be caught off guard and unaware. This would be the first of many lessons in my life I would hold close. One is never safe, even in the most innocent of times, you can never turn your back on reality, or your enemy. This man, whom appeared from the heavens it seemed, would be the turning point of my life. The new chapter of adventure, passion, a companion of my heart. Or so I thought...

~Mourne Skyfeather

Chapter V: An unexpected arrival

Mourne awakened in the gloom of dawn. In a place beyond her memory, unfamiliar, not of the original camp she had met battle with her predators. Her head ached like she had been kicked in the head by a horse. She struggled to sit up only to be greeted by a sharp pain in her shoulder. She yelped and clutched the wound. "Hey hey hey, take it easy!" An unfamiliar voice echoed from behind. A man approached and knelt beside her. "You took quite the blow, I removed the arrow and administered some anti-venom to get rid of the poison. You are safe now." Mourne blinked to correct her vision. Everything was blurry then became clear. The man was a Bosmer, somewhat taller then the natives from Valenwood. His hair was brown and his eyes were green. He was dressed like a duke with velvet emerald green shirt and black pants and boots. Mourne' felt her heart beat faster then reality hit her as she remembered the battle. She quickly reacted striking the man with her fist, laying him out on the ground. The punishment was more pain from her shoulder, she yelped again. Blood seeped through the bandage, she had ripped open the healing wound.

"Careful! The man yelled rubbing his jaw and getting to his feet. Mourne stood and turned to flee only to be grabbed at the arm. "I'm not going to hurt you!" The man said. Mourne turned and started to pound her left fist into his chest. "Let go of me you devil!" She cried out.
"Is this how you treat your rescuer? I should have left you back at the camp amongst the dead men if this is my reward!" He said with sarcasm.
"Rescuer?" Mourne stopped her fit and calmed.
"There, you're welcome. And you're bleeding again let me see it." The motioned to inspect the wound only to be met with another one of Mourne' fits.
"Some rescuer you are! Should have stopped that arrow from hitting me! You should have been there sooner, some hero!"
"I'm sorry?" The man said hesitantly unsure on what to say.
"No, don't be!" Mourne growled with frustration then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. Thank you."
"You're, welcome... Can I tend to your shoulder now or do you want to bleed all over the place?" He asked impatiently.

Mourne rolled her eyes and nodded allowing the man to inspect her wound. "Ow!" She yelped slapping the man in the head. "Ah, sorry! It's going to hurt!" He replied with little frustration in his voice. "I'm going to have to stitch it again. Don't jerk around so much, you'll rip it like this." He reached into his medical bag pulling out some black string and a pin. "This is going to hurt so prepare yourself." He advised. Mourne held her breath and closed her eyes. "Don't anticipate it or it'll hurt worse!" Mourne gave the man a angry glance. As the pin entered her skin she winced holding back any sudden movement. "I'm Tevash... Briarmil." Tecash introduced himself to make conversation and get Mourne' concentration off the stitching. Mourne looked at him and smiled.

"I'm Mourne Skyfeather." She thought for a second and remembered Tevash had come out of no where and defended her. "How did you find me?" She asked with pure curiosity.
"I.. Was out hunting for venison, I came across your camp seeing you on the ground injured and the assassins. I thought I'd help you." Tevash finished the stitching. "There, now don't jerk it again or it'll bleed again. He placed the rest of the string in his bag and replaced the bandage on Mourne' shoulder.
"Thank you." Mourne smiled then remembered the coin purse then the sun rising. "Oh dear, I must get back to Skingrad, the guild is waiting for my return!" She turned and rushed to the road.
"Hey wait!" Tevash yelled after her, but it was no use, she was gone. "Don't you want your weapons?" He muttered.

He looked down at the twin blades and the bow and quiver and sighed and chuckled. A wicked grin formed as he looked in the direction Mourne had ran off in. "I guess I'll have to bring them to you then!" He laughed. Picking up the weapons he chased after her, with no thoughts of the betrayal he had committed that night. He kept a sure pace, taking a quick route through the forest so he could reach Skingrad. There he would wait outside the blacksmith' shop.