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Traveling through the forest and roads towards the east of the Imperial City...and closer to the mountains that border Morrowind, Swift-Knife knew the smell that the wind carried as he got closer to Cheydinhal. The smell of ash and Dumner magic under the layers of Cyrodillian luster, but he could smell it easily. Growling under his breath, the beast continued on in pondering.

He dreaded going even near the mountains again, but his new family was there. If it means facing his fears to meet them, so be it. After two days of constant travel, Swift-Knife passed the Black Waterside stables at the break of night, and after some suspicious glares from the gate guards, entered the city.

In his throat, he chuckled some. He thanked Sithis that Imperials were arrogant fools...like the Dumner.

Remembering his benefactor's words, he followed the wall, ignoring any wondering eyes that passed him in the night, and finally found an old house, less lively than the others, by the church with a boarded door and windows. Approaching the door, he effortlessly tore off the old wood that blocked him, and opened it to meet a foul air that only smelled and tasted as age and decay.

Looking around, he found no one around and stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Sniffing, Swift-Knife walked through the ancient house, it have been here a long time. Whatever was keeping even the city guard away must be powerful or its influence runs deep into the city royalty. Good, he was getting tired of being eyed by the guard anyway.

As he walked into the basement, an eerie scarlet light ebbed around a corner to a carved out cavern. With each pulse, a heartbeat was heard in Swift-Knife's ears. It called to him and he followed. Walking through, he noticed an old trail of blood and in moments he found it...

The Black Door.

It was a large door, its stone-like surface depicted a frail woman cradling a child in one arm and a knife in the other as she looked about 4 more that seemed to beg or worship her, watching this dark action was a skull and its pale brow was a scarlet sun that shone its light upon the newcomer and the room around it, and in the center of this disk was a pale hand.

Reaching out, his claws barely took the surface when an otherworldly voice queried, "What is the color of night?"

Rumbling in his throat, Swift-Knife pressed his hand on the door, feeling the dark presence throbbing through the stone. "Sanquine, my brother." He answered.

The door unlocked and pushed inward, "Welcome home."

Fresh air rushed in his nostrils with new smells. Walking cautiously, Swift-Knife felt, for the first time, secure yet wary. The walls were stone and well-preserved. Then he entered a grand hall, two rows of thick pillars keeping the Sanctuary up as old dark red banners flown to the brief air, and lanterns hanging on the walls to give the light to the large room.

There standing in the center of the room was a suit of black armor held up by a motionless skeleton with a rusting war axe in its bony fingers, and beside it was a fellow Argonian, one of the less bestial formed unlike Swift-Knife. A beautiful female with glossy green and almost pink scales that solemnly spoke of her age but a deceptive beauty, easily camouflaged in a forest or marsh like most Argonians, silk veils hung from her horn-crest elegantly. Dark leather armor fitted her lithe figure and each step she took towards him was graceful and silent with her tail waving behind her.

Looking into her red eyes, there were earned wisdom, familial love, and a certain darkness that only a killer would possess. With an Argonian's form of a smile with tiny needle teeth, the female opened her arms to him as he approached. "Greetings, brother! Greetings!" She welcomed with a crock in her throat, common in Argonians, "I am Ocheeva, mistress of this Sanctuary. Lucien has told me all about you. I welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood! You stand now in the Sanctuary. May it serve as your new home, a place of comfort and security whenever the need arises."

Swift-Knife removed his hood at last and bowed his head, "Thank you. It is honor." Noticing the broken language, Ocheeva placed a comforting hand on the larger Crocodilian's shoulder with searching eyes. Swift-Knife could feel her prodding in his very soul. He has been in prison and other places before for so long, he was deprived of the social gifts that other Argonians have now.

Born a slave of Morrowind...

The memory hurt him too . Moving his head away from her eyes, Swift-Knife said quietly, "Is...there anything I need...to do, mistress?" Saying the word again felt like hot coil rolling on his tongue. Ocheeva disregarded it, "Call me Ocheeva, brother." She said, "When you are ready for work, go and speak with Vicente Valtieri. He handles all assignments for new family members."

Nodding, Swift-Knife was about to step around her when her little hand grabbed at his massive arm, "But before you go, please accept this gift from your new family. A unique set of armor, lighter than normal leather and black as the Void."

As she said this, she waved her other hand toward a large box sitting on a nearby table. "Thank you...Ocheeva." The new assassin said with unmatched gratitude rumbling from his throat. Grabbing his gift, Swift-Knife listened to her final words at the moment, "I have kept you long enough. Vicente is waiting. You'll find him in his chambers. Go now, dear family member, and may the Night Mother wrap you in her cold, loving embrace."

Walking down the hall, he was nearly bumped into by a small female, but his massive size was unaffected as she staggered back. A little blonde female and from the smell, Breton. She wore the same uniform as Ocheeva. Groaning abit, she opened her eyes to look upon the beast before her.

Swift-Knife actually expected her to scream in terror but she simply smiled brightly with a slight blush to her rosy cheek, "So you are Swift-Knife, I have heard so much about you. Welcome to the family."

Jerking his head back in great surprise at her friendly mood, Swift-Knife was astonished. This is the first soft-skin who has ever looked upon him with such...affection.

"Welcome, brother." She stated again in nervous excitement, "So good to finally meet you! I am Antoinetta Marie, like you I am new here and loving every minute of it. I hope the same for you." Swift-Knife nodded and walked passed her to walk down the hall with a slightly open maw of surprise, there a large Orc in iron armor and uniformed Bosmer were in deep conversation in front of a large thick door, arguing about subtlety on their contracts and the values to them, but the Orc, as Swift-Knife could easily tell, isn't going to change his way of thinking.

And when the two realized they were being watched, they smiled at Swift-Knife, more so with the somewhat smaller Gorgon. Laughing heartily, the Orc pat on Knife's shoulder happily, "Welcome! Welcome to the family! I'd hug you, and you obviously look like you can handle it, but Ocheeva told me not." Giggling abit, the she-elf stepped on Swift-Knife' other side, "Indeed, warmest welcome to you. I am Talaendril. Wood elf and loyal daughter of Sithis. And you already know this big lug as Gorgon. I hope you find our Sanctuary to your liking." Gorgon nodded in agreement.

Still shocked and amazed by this foreign love, Swift-Knife nodded, "Thank you. Excuse me, must get to Vincente." The two let Swift-Knife go and when he was walking to the end of the hall, there stood a Khajiit against a corner, a leonine with a bandanna wrapped around his braided mane and his tall figure dressed in a green robe. With arms crossed and eyes closed, he didn't seem to notice the Argonian's approach until his nose sniffed.

Opening his golden eyes, the feline man showed an expression of obvious disdain at the sight of the large Crocodilian, showing his gleaming fangs. "If it isn't the newest member of the family. Let's get one thing straight, the Tenets prevent me from killing you. But I don't like you. I'll sell you equipment, but only because Ocheeva is making me. This family doesn't need any more..." The Khajiit said before eying Swift-Knife up and down if seeking every imperfection that he seemed to offend him, "Outsiders."

Naturally, Swift-Knife would be tearing him apart, but he respected his bluntness and familiar demeanor. Unlike the others, he wasn't friendly or hospitable. Something about the Khajiit that Swift-Knife liked and he will let the insult go, but he will prove his power, meeting the Khajiit eye-to-eye, staring into each other's stony expression, "I don't fear you, Khajiit. I have killed things twice your size and from your smell, I enjoy the taste of Mages. If you do come to thought of attacking me, you better know that I have killed my share of magic-users from Morrowind."

This was his most complex sentence spoken in years and that alone surprised the former prisoner that he could still speak so well.

The two were silent and still like statues, they continued their battle through a voiceless stare-down, and finally the Khajiit snarled, "Very well, Outsider. You will live to know that you have survived a day with M'raaj-Dar." With that, he rounded Swift-Knife with his lengthy tail flicking in frustration, and walked off.

Watching the Khajiit, Swift-Knife smiled, and continued down some stairs to find another large door. Then, they opened before he even touched it, and a tall being stood. While he had the appearance of a Breton with a well-groomed black ponytail and dressed in fine black clothes, his face immediately spoke of a different nature.

When those unnatural red eyes fell on Swift-Knife, the man smiled with fangs sticking from the corners of his lips. "Warmest greetings to you, I trust you've already spoken with Ocheeva?" Which was answered with a nod and he continued, "I am Vincente Valtieri. I provide assignments for all new family members. Please don't let my appearance...unnerve you. The needs and Tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my own needs as a vampire."

Swift-Knife was far from unnerved.

Swift-Knife bows his head, "You do not unnerve me, Vincente. I am but awed by your power and our family. Never have I been greeted with such kindness and will do anything to keep it safe from others." Vincente chuckled kindly, "Quite a humble beast, aren't you. You will make it far here, my brother. I know you have traveled far and wide to arrive here, so please...Rest and enjoy the Sanctuary. I will summon you when a contract is ready for you."

"Thank you." Swift-Knife said with a deep bow and started to walk off back to the grand hall. Then the sound of pages turning caught his attention, turning his head, he saw a uniformed figure sitting in a chair. The tail obviously belonging to a fellow Argonian. Sensing the presence, the Argonian turned his hooded head and gave a toothy smile. Was he always in that corner?

Swift-Knife almost thought it was Ocheeva, but the body and more scarlet scales proved otherwise. Closing his book with a mark to keep track of his place, the Argonian put it down and got up from his seat with familiar welcoming arms. "I welcome you to our family, and this Sanctuary. May you always find yourself at home here, in the loving embrace of our Lady, the Night Mother." He greeted.

Blinking, Swift-Knife questioned, "I am Swift-Knife, and you...brother?" "Teinaava." The Argonian answered with a proud smile, "Egg-brother of Ocheeva and proud Shadowscale."

Surprised, Swift-Knife blinked, it is rare to find egg-siblings, or in Soft-skin terms, Twins. And to hear the term Shadowscale, Knife's scales shivered as he could barely recollect that word before and queried on the term, which Teinaava answered happily,

"In the Argonian home of Black Marsh, those born under the sign of the Shadow are taken at birth and presented to the Dark Brotherhood. A Shadowscale hatchling is trained in the arts of stealth and assassination, and lives a life in service to the mighty kingdom of Argonia. Any Shadowscale who lives to come of age is accepted into the Dark Brotherhood as a full member of the family. So it was with me and Ocheeva."

Nodding as he absorbed the information, Swift-Knife thanked his new brother for the knowledge and walked off to the living quarters. Pushing the heavy door, he began his new life to the Dark Brotherhood.