» Fri Feb 18, 2011 8:02 pm Was it above-average? Was Surlahn making something out of nothing? He tried to look casual. It didn't matter. The guard was right there in front of him, and he was about to speak.
“Hello, citizen. Need directions?”
Thank Sithis. I need to calm down, I really do. I'll never get done here like this; if-
“Sir? Are you alright?”
Surlahn snapped out of his trance, dispelling his train of thought with a slight shake of his head. “I'm fine, thank you.”
The guard grumbled his reply and returned to his patrol as Surlahn continued making his way up the considerably large stone staircase and removed his hand from the hilt of the new enchanted dagger on his belt.
Frelan told me that the mark lives on this road. Maybe the house will have an unlocked cellar door; maybe my first job, just this one, will be easy. I need a confidence boost.
Surlahn turned sharply onto the stone path, telling himself he was being too hopeful. This road was abandoned save for a few hooded Argonians standing together.
They seemed to all be standing directly in front of the house where the mark lived – and that was enough to make Surlahn hesitate. It was too large a coincidence. However, it seemed that if the mark had hired professional mercenaries to defend himself, they wouldn't simply stand huddled just outside his door.
As Surlahn was pondering whether to advance or think of a different approach, the door opened, quite suddenly, and a middle-aged Nord appeared on his front steps. Surlahn couldn't hear the exchange, but it seemed that the Nord didn't appreciate the amphibians any more than Surlahn did. Soon, the Argonians – now clearly entirely innocent – were walking past Surlahn, one commenting on his trendy robe.
Surlahn didn't see the necessity of dressing down to kill someone.
Surlahn reflected or a moment, constantly glancing about with a consterned expression in order to look like a lost tourist. The man hadn't wanted the lizards outside his door, and for more than simple unneighborliness. Had he thought that the lizards were assassins? Surlahn didn't even know if the Nord was expecting a trained killer at his doorstep; however, Surlahn didn't know much anyway. Frelan had been far from descriptive when giving Surlahn his task.
Surlahn didn't want to be shooed away like the lizards, so he advanced toward his target behind the houses on the road.
Houses in Bruma were always built partly below ground for insulation during the brutal winters, so most of the houses had entrances to their cellars in the back. The Nord's house was one of these. Surlahn effortlessly picked the lock and slowly made his way into the cellar.
The cellar was certainly warmer than the air was outside. Surlahn held back a sigh of relief, both at the change in temperature and at his ability to progress this far on his mission.
The cellar appeared to be used as a den and bedroom for a wealthy Nord; it was furnished with an expensive-looking bed, a luxurious fireplace, and bear-skin rugs covering the floor.
Surlahn started, but refrained from gasping; he dashed for the bed and crouched on the side opposite the stairs, listening. The footsteps continued. The man Surlahn had seen before appeared at the bottom step of the staircase, carrying an armful of twigs and small branches. He stretched extravagantly before walking to the fireplace – on the opposite side of the room – and kneeled down.
Surlahn hesitated. He'd killed before, but not like this, not in cold blood. Nevertheless, he made his way across the room. At the last moment, the Nord heard a padded footstep and turned around to face Surlahn. Adrenaline flooded Surlahn's veins.
“No! For the love of Akatosh, please, no, you-”
It was hard, but Surlahn ignored him and thrust his enchanted dagger, piercing the man's heart. He shrieked like a young Imperial girl upon first meeting an Orc, then became a crumpled heap on the floor.
It was exhilarating, but the excitement was short-lived. An unidentified object entered Surlahn's field of vision. It took him a moment to focus his vision on it, but they appeared to be words. As soon as Surlahn was able to read this message, his heart skipped a beat.
This was, undeniably, the worst possible outcome.
It read:
“Frilinas Mherias is unconscious.”
And that's my argument against essential characters.
