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Walking by the stairs, Swift-Knife looked around in the somewhat empty downstairs after killing the fireplace, and took a careful seat in a thick swooping chair that fit perfectly with his tail and bulk. Opening a black leather-clad journal sitting on his desk, he looked at the several pages written, and found an untouched page.

In his little study corner, there was his large wooden desk and chair; holding his dictionary, ink bottle, and a fractured skull holding up a thick burning candle, a bookshelf behind him assorted with a slowly growing collection of books.

The candle light burned bright and gleamed off his muscular torso, his scales more healthy to a dark bronze color with a patch of black on his back with his legs clad in nice black pants. Heavy-lidded eyes looked thoughtfully before dipping his index talon into a large cup of ink and start to write with small and somewhat simple calligraphy;

First Seed 8, 3E 433

A month has passed since becoming a member of the Dark Brotherhood and my life is beyond a dream. I am truly blessed by the Dread Father to have been given a chance of life after surviving the ruthless bondage of Dunmer mages and the cruel imprisonment of Imperial scum since hatching.

My Family is the greatest gift that have been bestowed to this forsaken, that I have earned through righteous blood. I still keep Rufio's skull as a glorious trophy in remembrance of my first kill for the Void. More will come to join it.

I have learned much in the weeks with the family. Ocheeva have taught me how to read and write. Due to my time as a'

Swift-Knife paused and swallowed at the very thought of one of many words that he tried to avoid thinking of.

"Slave...I have been forced to learn quickly and adapt and I use my ill-earned talents to my new life. It was quick to learn the texts that the Sanctuary provided, from the Five Tenets to the eight volumes of the Wolf Queen. While a quill would seem more efficient, I enjoy the use of my claw more.

My decade of imprisonment had weakened me, but I am still strong and quick for my size. It amazed most of the Sanctuary and with the help of the others' training regiment, I have grown more adapt to my life as well as healthy.

While I love and enjoy my time with all of the family, I enjoy a small word jousting or magic training from M'raaj-Dar. The Khajiit still has a spiteful attitude but I can tell he enjoy the fact that I can take his insults. There are moments of civility between us, but very subtle.

Gorgon and myself work as sparring partners, since we are the only ones to be able to survive the others' brutish strength, which no doubt bring the Orc much joy.

I worked with his obvious love, Talaendril, for a week. Despite my deep distaste of elves, I enjoy her company. She is patient and wise, like the archer that she is. She taught me how to use a bow, the task was long and difficult due to my...body structure, but it happened. She helped me craft a fine bow made from strong wood exported from Valenwood and string made of silk. I worked for days to hit the targets in the training room in the center. We tried different exercises, I succeed in some but I wasn't nearly as good as I am with a sword or my beloved Blade of Woe.

The Blade of Woe...

He was about to continue his thoughts when something pulled his attention, he caught the smell of magic and fine-smells of cinder, mint, and death. Smirking, he lunged out of his chair as a flash of ice struck the wall beside him-where his head was-and the novice bounced back to his feet to see the barely-visible figure throw another veil of ice at him from up the stairs.

Throwing his hand out, the ice was caught by magically winds and pulled into his palm, converting into his own pool of magical energies, but some of the magic effects still struck him, making his blood run cold and body stiff abit. Chuckling in his throat, Knife smirked at his attacker, which was responded with a very quick spat, and another bolt of whirling ice stuck his chest before he could blink.

Maneuvering himself to the front room, the attacker vaulted the steps and into the room, throwing another bolt while he was recovering from his stiffness.

Thrown back, Swift-Knife shivered from the attack as the ice stiffens his body even more. Acting quickly, he pounced forward.

The invisible attacker tried to cast another spell but Swift-Knife was already tackling into it and slammed the body into the wall. Chuckling again, the Argonian looked delighted to have caught the invader, "You almost got me down that time, brother. Your spells are growing bolder each time."

"Whoever said I've haven't?" A familiar accented voice retorted as a smirking M'raaj-Dar materialized, the Argonian's large arm over his collar-bone, seemingly defenseless. Looking down, Swift-knife saw the dark mage's clawed paw hovering over Swift-Knife's side with it glowing with more icy magic.

Laughing dryly, Swift-Knife remarked, "As an assassin, you must always seem be ready with the death blow. You never disappoint, but you really should be more careful with your scent, Cat."

Grimacing, M'raaj spat back, "Yet you remain as reckless as Gorgon, Leather Boots."

Smirking, Swift-Knife pulled away from M'raaj, "Now what brings you here to my humble home, brother. Certainly not to try to teach me another ambush lesson."

Dusting his jaded robes, M'raaj off-handedly answered like the grump that he is, "It seems Vicente have finally thought of you to be worthy of a real contract, swamp breath. Yet, of all of the family, he chose me to send you the message. Sometimes I think the old vampire is starting to become senile."

Wide-eyed, Swift-Knife swallowed, "F-finally?" Flickering his ears in frustration, M'raaj snarled, "Did you hear me correctly or have you been swimming in the swamp again?"

Grunting at the insult, Swift-Knife spat back, "It is hard to hear you over your hairball sometimes, you know that, brother." Flattening his ears, the mage scolded, "Get going before my magic runs wild in your cozy little home."

Laughing, Swift-Knife grabbed his new gray cloak, and after fixing the room a bit, he started to make his way out of the house that he was so generously given by the city's Dunmer Count, who is apparently from one of the Great Houses of Morrowind, the one that helped free the Argonians and Khajiit from servitude. So he had Swift-Knife's diminutive respect and is amongst the less likely of the Dumner to be murdered by him.

Looking up, he saw M'raaj-Dar looking down at him with crossed arms and narrowed eyes, "See you in the Sanctuary, brother."

The Khajiit rolled his eyes and turned away. Concentrating, the Argonian made himself invisible to the naked eye, using a weak illusion spell to keep himself unseen in by the patrols, before walking outside.

It was midnight by now, so there would be few guards right now. Rushing through the city with incredible speed, he found the abandoned house, and slipped into the Sanctuary. He couldn't wait to gain the key to the well for a quicker get in.

Entering, he was greeted by the Dark Guardian as usual, who continued its eternal duty as protector of the Sanctuary. In the hall, Gorgon and Teinaava were having a conversation by the bookshelves. "Good evening, brothers." Swift-Knife greeted. The two quickly stopped their talk to greet their new sibling warmly, "Ah, Swift-Knife, what brings you here in this late hour?" Gorgon asked.

"Vicente has summoned me." Swift-Knife answered, to which the Orc laughed with a booming voice as he patted his sparring partner on the shoulders, "Excellent. Finally, you can use your skills to good use."

Nodding, the hooded Teinaava smiled, "Yes. You trained hard for this day and I am confident you will succeed. If you need any advice, just come to us. We will help however we can." Gorgon nods with a fanged smile, "Yes, do come back as soon as you are done talking with ol' Vicente. We'll get you started."

Nodding, Swift-Knife rushed to Vicente's room, and breathed carefully before knocking. There was a moment of silence before the doors opened. Vicente stood there with a smile, "Good hour, my young brother. I have collected a suitable contract for you."

"I am ready to pay my respects to our unholy father, at last, Vicente." Swift-Knife said, which made the aged vampire laughed gleefully. "Your determination is always a fine shadow in this light, my brother." Vicente said before gesturing Knife inside before shutting the door.

Taking a seat at the vampire's table, Swift-Knife was glad to know the chair was able to hold his weight. Taking the other chair, Vicente began, "As you already know from your brother, M'raaj-dar, you are going to undertake your very first contact, which is a pact one enters into with the Dark Brotherhood. They provide us with the gold, and we remove someone from existence. It is fulfilled by a skilled assassin, such as yourself, who keeps the Dark Brotherhood's end of the bargain. So it have always been. While carrying out a contract, you may have the opportunity to earn a bonus if certain parameters are met. Understand?"

Swift-Knife purred and nodded.

"Excellent, here is what you must to the Waterfront district of the Imperial you will find a ship named the Marie Elena. Board the ship and find its captain, Gaston Tussaud. He'll be in his cabin. Eliminate Tussaud in any manner you see fit. The pirates have been moving a lot of cargo onboard lately. You may be able to smuggle yourself on board in one of the packing crates." Vicente seemed to be done, when an idea quickly formed up, "Oh, and one more thing, get into the habit of asking your family members about your current insight may prove invaluable."

Taking the advice to heart, Swift-Knife got up, "Thank you, Vicente. I will make the Dark Brotherhood proud."

Smiling gently, the Breton Vampire nodded, "I know you will. Spill some blood for me, dear brother."

"I will." Swift-Knife said before leaving out of the room.

Walking back to the others, he found M'raaj-dar talking with Teinaava and Gorgon. "Brothers." He greeted and the small group nodded.

After explaining his contract to them, Gorgon leaned a heavy elbow on Swift-Knife's shoulder with a thoughtful sigh, "Your first contract. No chance of a bonus, eh? That's all right, you're better off! Who needs magic items when you've got raw skill? And what is the great part about killing a target up close and personal is that you can talk to 'em before you do it!" Then the happy orc ranted on with a contract he performed on a Nordic girl on her birthday.

Chuckling at Gorgon, Swift-Knife looked to his Argonian brother, who politely waited for Gorgon to finish before giving actual advice,

"The Marie Elena, you say?" Teinaava asked as he rubbed his chin, having forgotten the name due to Gorgon's ranting, "I've seen that ship. There's a unique balcony at the stern. My guess is it leads to the captain's cabin. Could be useful."

Nodding to this, Swift-Knife was already forming a plan from the information given to him. "Do you know about the pirates themselves?" "They are a paranoid and dangerous bunch, especially their Dunmer first mate...what's her name...Malvulisss." The senior assassin hissed in remembrance.

Hearing the name made Swift-Knife's spines stand up, but she isn't the target. The Captain is. Looking to M'raaj-dar, he wondered if the Khajiit knew anything, but disregarded the thought. He wouldn't give any information, especially for a useless novice on his first contract.

"Thank you brothers for your help. I will return soon, maybe with some new items to decorate the halls." He said and the three nodded. "Bring back a nice head, dear brother." Gorgon laughed and Swift-Knife left out through the door.

M'raaj-dar watched till the Black Door shut completely. Scolding to himself, the Khajiit walked to practice his magic more, he'll freeze that lizard next time.