Tales Of Skyrim: The Clawed Assassin

Chapter One

The khajiit was finding that traveling alone in Skyrim was more troublesome than he had imagined. Besides the cold weather, which he thought he had become accustomed to after spending his life traveling with caravans in this northern region, the wildlife itself was proving difficult. So far he had killed a pair of wolves and out ran a snow cat. But yet again, his past experiences were to be out done.

"Hand over your coin purse, kitty," the leader of the bandit trio asked. Angrily the khajiit tossed his pouch on the ground at the robber's feet. "Good, kitty," the bandit mocked.

"How bouts we take a look in your travel bag?" another one pointed at the small knapsack hung on the cat's back.

"Yeah. Toss it forward, kitty," the leader commanded. Again, the khajiit complied. He watched as the bandit poured out the contents on the road way. A cheese wheel rolled itself off into the ditch and disappeared from sight. Traitor, the cat thought...

"Aye, look at that fandangle thing on his ear," the bigger of the three highway men finally spoke as he flicked the chained object with his finger. In return the cat hissed, startling the man back a few feet.

"Oh! Would you look at that; it does have a back bone!" The three men began to laugh. "Now hand it over," the leader's face became serious as he held up a steel dagger, pointed at the khajiit's face.

"No..." the cat replied sternly.

"No?" the leader was surprised, but he kept his knife still.

"No. Oblimar has given you everything. Oblimar asks that you leave this piece alone," the cat stared back at the bandit with golden feline eyes.

"Ha! I don't care what you want, desert kitty. Boys, get the earring," the leader gestured for the other two to move forward. The khajiit looked back and forth between the two. He weighed the options, and finally he took action. Hopping to all fours, he made a quick dash around the larger bandit and pushed off with his hind legs. He landed on the man's shoulders and with his front claws, he ripped his throat. As the brute fell, the khajiit jumped from the man's back and grabbed hold of the other bandit's head. The sheer force of the khajiit's jump broke the man's neck, letting out a grotesque cracking. As the last body fell, Oblimar stared back at the bandit leader.

"Oblimar gave you the chance to leave with the gold and goods. Oblimar was compliant. But now for your greed, you leave with nothing." The bandit panicked and decided to charge. Swiftly the cat pulled a dagger from the dead bandit's body at his feet and flung the blade. With a swish sound the dagger turned several times in the air, then lodged itself in the bandit leader's chest. Slowly, the last man standing crumbled to the ground. The khajiit leisurely went to stand over the body, staring down at the dying man's face.

"W-why..?" The bandit asked as blood sputtered from his lips.

"It is one thing to take gold, another to take sentimental trinkets. You should've learned the difference," Oblimar then pulled the dagger from the man's chest and the bandit let out a loud groan. The cat then attempted to pack up his things, but footsteps approached.

"Hey! Over here!" a voice rang out. The khajiit turned to see guards running down the road. Quickly he ran for the ditch, travel pack in his hand, though most of the contents remained on the road. The guards circled the bodies as Oblimar hid in the bushes.

"Aye, look at this," one guard held up a small orange pouch. The coin purse. The cat stifled the need to curse as the guards began to split the coin between them.

"I think it best if we search the nearby area," one suggested. Oblimar took that as a sign to leave. As he turned to go, his foot hit something. He looked down to find a small cheese wheel.

"You return to Oblimar once the situation is safe? You are not a very loyal cheese wheel," the cat whispered as he picked up the cheese and started through the frosted woods.

As the sky started to get dark, Oblimar found himself at the front gate of Windhelm; a city of stone and ice. As he looked at the large doors, he stuffed the last piece of cheese in his mouth. Wiping his hands on his black robe, he then proceeded into the city. On first entering, an inn was lit and ready for travelers. Which wouldn't have been a problem had he not lost his coin purse. Eh, every town has an abandon house to sleep in. He began to wander about the streets, and he watched as one by one each house became lit. It was then that he noticed a house with no lighting. He tapped a passerby on the shoulder, but did well to keep his hood up to hide his face. Khajiit were not welcomed in the cities.

"Excuse Oblimar, but what do you know about that house there?" he pointed to the building.

"Aretino Residence... sad story that one is. The woman died, and then her son was sent to an orphanage. Lost one, that boy is-"

"Thank you," hearing all that he deemed necessary, he quickly headed off down the street.

Crouched down, he began to pick the lock and every so often checked over his shoulder. It wasn't long before he heard the click of the mechanism and he pushed the door open. As soon as he stepped inside he was faced with a set of stairs, and not far off he could hear a voice chanting.

"Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me..." a child's voice.
"For the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear." Oblimar climbed the steps to a large room, with a fireplace and bed. Hidden, he looked around a corner into a smaller room. Candles were lit, and a boy was seated on the floor. "Please... How long must I do this? I keep praying, Night Mother. Why won't you answer me?" The Black Sacrament? Oblimar had heard stories growing up of the Black Sacrament. It was a serious endeavor, which provoked the Dark Brotherhood to do your bidding. But what kind of torment would bring a child to seek such help? The khajiit could think of a few, and he shuddered at his own memories. It was then that Oblimar heard a grumble from his stomach.

"Quiet cheese wheel."

"Is someone there?" the boy called.

"Betrayal again..." Oblimar whispered as he stood up from his hiding place. "Uh, yes. Are you alright?"

"It worked! I knew you'd come, I just knew it! I did the Black Sacrament, over and over. With the body and the... the things. And then you came! An assassin from the Dark Brotherhood!"

"Oblimar is sorry, but he is not who you think he is," the cat held up his hands in an attempt to calm the boys excitement.

"Of course you are! I prayed, and you came, and now you'll accept my contract!" The boy folded his arms defiantly.

"Eh, contract?"

"My mother, she... she died. I... I'm all alone now. So they sent me to that terrible orphanage in Riften. Honorhall. The headmistress is an evil, cruel woman. They call her Grelod the Kind. But she's not kind. She's terrible. To all of us. So I ran away, and came home. And performed the Black Sacrament. Now you're here! And you can kill Grelod the Kind!" The child was so passionate that tears began to form in his eyes. Something about the boy reminded the khajiit of himself as a child.

"Are you sure about this? About murdering this woman?" Oblimar felt himself conceding.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my entire life. Someone like Grelod doesn't deserve to live one more day. She's a monster," the boy's voice shook with fear, but he kept up a tough front. Oblimar definitely saw himself now, and all doubt had vanished.

"Oblimar will do this," the khajiit nodded before walking back down the stairs and out onto the street. Though he promised to kill the woman, he would first check and see how awful this "Grelod the Kind" really was.