Chapter Three: Conversation with a Killer

Faric froze as the four figures walked towards him from the corners of the room, appearing as if from nowhere. They were all clad in black robes and hoods and carrying thin dark swords, their tips pointed straight at his chest. He made no move for his own dagger, realizing that to do so would be suicidal. Instead, he moved his hands slowly up until they were level with his shoulders and tried to see if there was any way he could escape.

'I know what you're thinking and I strongly advise against it' said a voice from behind him. Turning slowly, Faric saw a tall figure also clad in black emerge from behind the curtain and realized at the same moment that the low murmuring had stopped. The man was an Imperial, dark and threatening. Like the others he wore a black robe and hood but it seemed more terrible by far; there was an aura of evil that was almost tangible around him.

'Do not move. Do not talk. Do not lower your hands. Do not, in fact, perform any action not explicitly ordered by myself.' The man was walking slowly around Faric and suddenly stopped, looking him straight in the face. 'You may breathe incidentally.' he added with a thin smile, and started walking again. 'You have no idea what you have stumbled upon. I wonder what you thought to find here?'

'I...' began Faric, before a fist thudded into the side of his head.

'I'm positive "Do not talk" was in my list of proscribed behaviors', continued the man. "And even if it wasn't, surely you can recognize a rhetorical question? Hmm?'

This time, Faric remained silent.

'Better.' The man smiled thinly again as he walked through Faric's line of sight again. 'I cannot deny you have talent, however. I wasn't aware of your presence until my associates revealed themselves and it's rare for that to happen, believe me.'

The man stopped in front of Faric and turned towards him. His stare was powerful and Faric would have looked away if he hadn't been certain he'd be dead within seconds. The thin smile returned to his lips but it was purely cruel, containing no mirth whatsoever.

'Search him.'

Hands went through Faric's clothing, removing his dagger, his lock-picks and a few scraps of parchment.

'What have we here?' said the man. 'Thieves Guild membership... maps... who is this?'

Faric went white as the black-clad man held up a sketch of Risi. Faric had made it not long after they'd got together and had kept it with him ever since.

'You may answer... in fact I insist you do.', said the man, smiling more broadly.

Faric licked his lips nervously. 'J... Just a girl I saw in the city one day.'

Another fist crashed into the side of his head.

'She's an old girlfriend.' he gasped. 'She dumped me a few years ago.'

To Faric's horror, a cracked whisper came from behind the curtain. 'He lies. She is his lover still'.

The man closed his eyes for a moment. 'Your servant humbly thanks you, mother'.

'Master', hissed one of the other figures, 'That is the Nord I mentioned, the one who was skulking around the Cheydinhal sanctuary'.

The first man opened his eyes and stared at Faric again. 'You have infiltrated a sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood. The penalty for so doing is death.'

The smile became even crueler as he saw the look of terror cross the face of the thief in front of him.

'Whose death though?'

Faric couldn't remain silent. 'Mine! Kill me and leave her alone. I'm the one who's violated your sanctuary. Don't you dare touch her!'

The smile vanished from the face in front of him. 'Little thief. You have earned death for yourself and as many of your friends as I deem fit. Yet the mother sends you to me when I have... a problem... with which you might be able to help.' The man turned and walked away a few paces. He spent a few moments as if in thought then spun back round. 'For your crimes, the girl must die but you...' - he swept up and grabbed Faric's throat before he could even move - 'you will have the choice. Leave her to us and she will suffer every torture the Dark Brotherhood can create. She will spend hours in agony before surrendering at last to Sithis at which point we will do the same to you. Or you can live and she can die a quick death. At your hands.'