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Solitude.

Three years spent in the dungeons of Castle Dour, the most secure prison in all of Skyrim. A place of dark walls and small cells, and the cries and shouts of deranged prisoners and madmen.

Three years sitting in the same cell and being thrown the small hunks of moldy food and sour ale. The guards in Solitude never spoke to me. The dungeons were dark and cold, and even the heat from the brazier that was in the middle of the dungeon didn't do anything to warm me. Solitude was the northern most part of Skyrim, and the winters there were cold enough to freeze a man in his tracks if he wasn't prepared.

Occasionally the guards would haul a screaming prisoner out of their cell, but the same cell was quickly filled with a new prisoner. Of course the prisoners who left their cells never came back. The jail master of Castle Dour, a hard faced orc named Koffzal, was also the executioner of the city, and the rumor that whispered through the cells in the dungeon was that he had beheaded more than a thousand prisoners in forty years.

But like in the dungeons of Dragonsreach, I quickly lost my sense of time, of the passing of days, and my sense of will. I let my mind fad and my beard stay long as I sat on my bedroll in my cell, starring at the ceiling or trying to count the individual cobbles that made up the floor of my cell. The screams of the prisoners hadn't scared me in the first year, and after a while it began to mix in with the other sounds I heard in the dungeons. The sound of Koffzal sharpening his headsman's axe for one. The sound of guard boots and the dragging of a body also became a sound I could recognize easily.

The second year in the prison, a guard threw my journal into my cell. I had been sleeping when the guard dropped the dark leather-bound thing into my cell, but I jerked awake and tried to grab for a dagger that wasn't there. I looked around in the dimness of my cell, and by the dying embers of the brazier in the dungeon, I made out my journal laying on the ground. I left my bedroll to pick it up, and this was where things changed.

I read back through all I had written, starting with my life as a young boy on Solstheim, and then leading up to the day that Brekish made the choice to go to Whiterun and turn himself in. From then it was blank, but with the journal the guard threw a quill and a bottle of ink into my cell, and I began to write again. Being able to write agin helped to clear the fog that was swirling in my head after almost two years of nothing but screams, silent nights, and the sharpening of the same axe.

As I wrote, I only filled three pages before I found what would turn into my key to freedom. It wasn't a literal key by any means, but instead the key came in the form of a piece of paper. The paper was sealed with a blob of red wax, and stamped with a symbol I didn't recognize. They symbol of a skull and a candle was set into the wax seal, but as I broke open the letter and read it, the curious seal became the lest of my worries.

The first thing the letter promised me was freedom, but with a price attached. The letter was written in a scrawling hand, but I could read it easily enough. It was somewhat short, only a a page long, but it's contents told me all I needed to know.

"Fathhas Ah-Tar. We know of your relations with the White River Gang, who are now no more. While we extend our sympathy to your loss, we assure this brief letter will be much more to your liking. Your father, as you know, was a member of the Morag Tong, a group of assassins who occupy Solstheim and primarily target the representatives for the Houses of Morrowind. We do not represent the Tong, but a different sect assassins who reside in Skyrim. Many years ago, we were the Dark Brotherhood, although now they are no more. Now we call ourselves the Wolves of Darkness, and we would like to extend our invitation to you now, and ask you to join us. We understand that you currently reside in Castle Dour, in Solitude, and can easily free you if you would agree to join our family. If the contents of this letter are to your liking, then we would encourage you to repeat the words "Innocent darkness" to the guard who will speak the same words to you later this evening.

Yours in Brotherhood, Night-Sister Nam-Rei

I looked at the letter, then read it again. "Can easily free you if you would agree to join our family." I starred at the letter, then pushed a hand through my long hair. Just like in Dragonsreach, I could feel the fog of the years of imprisonment start to lift from my mind. I folded up the letter and put in inside the last page of my journal, then closed my journal.

* * *

As the letter said, that evening the guard came to drop my food to my cell door. But this time instead of sitting back in a hazed state, I walked near to the door and the guard came closer. A plate of somewhat decent cheese and a bottle of ale that smelled foul were dropped at my feet, but as the guard meet my gaze I heard him breath,

"Innocent darkness."

I starred at him for a second, then repeated the words, "Innocent darkness" back.

The guard walked off without another word, and I watched his back as he walked away.

* * *

Eight days later, they came. The assassins.

But first the guards came to my cell, and pulled the door open. I was sitting in the corner of my cell, examining the black and red stone, but I looked up as the guards came into my space. I looked up from the stone and one guard held up a set of chains.

"Get up elf," he said. A nord with a rough voice.

I stood up without saying anything, and tucked the stone away into the folds of my ragged and shabby clothes. I approached the guards and they chained my wrists, then my ankles. One guard took the lead and the second guard came behind me, and they lead me from my cell. In the circle of cells I heard the shouts of other prisoners, and was again reminded of Dragonsreach. But as the guards lead up the stairs and through the dungeon, I looked at the guards back as we went up stairs and around corners.

And again, the sunlight spilled over my face as the guards and I came out of the dungeon and into the world of Skyrim. I looked away and paused for a second as the sun pressed through the clouds and down on us, and then we were moving again.

The guards took me through a short courtyard, and across the courtyard I could see the orc Koffzal. He wore his customary leather armor and his wide executioner hood that threw shadows over his face. His great axe, the silver blade shinning in the dull sunlight, stood over his head as the orc watched me walk across the courtyard. Around us were the walls of the courtyard, and to my right was the Emperors Tower. Also standing with Koffzal was the Captain of the Wolves Guard, the nord Malivar. He wore a set of red and grey clothes, the chest embezzled with Solitudes black wolf face. His mouth was a grim line as the guard pair and I dew closer.

The courtyard was home to eight or so more guards, all carrying swords and wearing the standard leather and red cloth armor of Solitudes Wolf Guard. The soldiers all wore full face helmets and gauntlets that guarded their hands and arms, and their boots were shaped like wolves feet.

We went across the yard, and as I came to stand in front of Koffzal, the orc looked at me from under his hood. His bright orange eyes starred into my dark red eyes, and he said,

"Fathhas Ah-Tar. Here you stand, in front of me, three years later. Your weak, your tired, and surely hungry. Your crimes against Skyrim are fairly wide. Banditry, robbery, murder, theft, assault, and plenty of other crimes that I won't waste my breath on listing," he paused now, and flexed his fingers over the handle of his great-axe. "And after three years of imprisonment you seem to still have a good hold over your will," he paused again, then gave a low laugh and leaned in closer. His bottom teeth were sharp, and they moved with his lips as he said, "But now, none of that matters. Your time is at an end, elf, and I'm glad to be the one to let your head roll from my block."

The orc leaned away and jerked his head at my guards, who moved to the block in the middle of the courtyard. Overhead the sun dimmed as a thick cloud covered it, and the guards pushed me down to my knees. I moved downwards until my face touched the stone block and I felt the chill on my cheek. My vision changed from a view of Koffzal and the surrounding guards, and then I saw the orc in my vision again. The guards left me and the orc pulled down his hood, then took his axe in both hands.

And then, as silent as a shadow and with a puff of black smoke, the assassins appeared. They came from thin air, and I could only see two of them. They appeared on the top of the walls, armed with crossbows and wearing black clothes. Their faces were hidden by hoods and face masks, as I saw them start to take aim, more of the assassins appeared in the courtyard.

The guards saw the black-clad murders as soon as they began to appear, and the Captain Malivar, shouted a word that I would hear many times for the next years of my life.

"Assassin!"