Legends of Skyrim: The Kingkiller (BOOK FOUR)

I - Innocence Lost

Windhelm, also known as the City of Kings, was the capital of Eastmarch Hold. It was the oldest city in Skyrim, possibly the oldest city of Man on Tamriel that was still standing, dating back to the Merethic Era. During 4E 201, as the Civil War raged on, Skyrim had become a nation divided, and Windhelm became the new capital of the Stormcloak Rebellion, the main centre of the entire Nord revolution against the Empire. Windhelm was governed by Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak, the leader of the Stormcloaks. Ulfric was chosen by the public as the new Jarl after his father had died. Since the recent deposing of Laila Law-Giver to Maven Black-Briar in the Rift, now only two of Skyrim's other eight holds pledged loyalty to Ulfric and his rebellion during this time: the Pale and Winterhold, along with their Jarls, Skald the Elder and Korir. Whiterun Hold remained neutral ground as Balgruuf the Greater refused to take a side in the conflict, while the Reach, Falkreath, Hjaalmarch, and the Rift, remained loyal to the Empire alongside Haafingar Hold and the provincial capital, Solitude, under High King Torygg's widow, Elisif the Fair. Ulfric believed that Skyrim should secede from what he believed was a corrupt and crumbling Empire. This stance came about due to the aftermath of the Great War and the introduction of the White-Gold Concordat by the Aldmeri Dominion, though it was not until the Markarth Incident that Ulfric's rebellion truly started. The Stone Quarter was Windhelm's central district: the one visitors first entered when passing through the main gate into the city. It contained the marketplace, the most important shops, and the city's inn. The Grey Quarter was so named because of the large number of Dunmer that resided there. It was once named the 'Snow Quarter' but that was a long time ago. But, to the Elves, the name 'Grey Quarter' was one of derision, cruelty, and discrimination. They believed the Nord people of Windhelm had always seen them as outsiders, and hated them because of it.

"You come here where you're not wanted," Rolff Stone-Fist, in a drunken state, stood with his friend Angrenor Once-Honored, berating a Dunmer woman, Suvaris Atheron, "You eat our food, you pollute our city with your stink, and you refuse to help the Stormcloaks."
"But we haven't taken a side because it's not our fight." Suvaris protested.
The Civil War was reaching a climax. Everybody knew that, sooner or later, Solitude or Windhelm would be marched upon, possibly even both. And when that happened, Tamriel would be fresh bait for the Aldmeri Dominion. "Hey," Angrenor suddenly piped up, equally as drunk, "Maybe the reason these grey-skins don't help in the war is because they're Imperial spies!"
"Imperial spies?" Suvaris scoffed in offence, "You can't be serious!"
"Maybe we'll pay you a visit tonight, little spy," Rolff slurred as the two Nords stumbled away, "We got ways of finding out who you are."
She rolled her eyes as they walked away. Turning a corner, she almost walked into an Imperial, who stopped for her. "I apologise for the disruption, but I hope you can help me," he spoke in a low tone, his hood pulled up obscuring his face, "I'm looking for the Aretino Residence."
"Why? It's been abandoned since Naalia died." she looked up the street.
The Imperial's breath hung in the air as the wind whistled above the walls. "My business is personal," he explained, "I was contracted to provide a service."
Before she could open her mouth to talk, Suvaris felt a small weight fall into her hands. It was a small coin pouch. Looking back up to the Imperial, she pointed him to the house with a curious shape above the Grey Quarter. "Thank you," he walked past her, before stopping and turning back, "Please, forget my face."
Suvaris watched as he left her sight, before looking back down at the coins and tucking them into her pockets.

The front door to the Residence was unlocked. Tasitis pushed it open to a set of stairs leading up. He could hear a timid, high voice chanting somewhere inside the house. "Sweet Mother, sweet Mother, send your child unto me," the voice begged, "For the sins of the unworthy must be baptised in blood and fear."
The room was dimly lit and contained an end table with some random books and a knocked-over bottle of wine on the floor. The neighbouring room was lit up by numerous candles, presumably arranged by the small shivering boy, to perform the Black Sacrament. He sat, chanting the Sacrament over and over, frustrated that the Night Mother would not acknowledge his plea. For the ritual he had set up a number of candles, along with a chunk of human flesh and a human heart. The obligatory tome A Kiss, Sweet Mother lay next to him, with an iron dagger and a sample of Nightshade on top. As Tasitis approached, the floorboards creaked beneath his feat. Turning with excitement, the boy's, Aventus Aretino, eyes lit up to see standing before him an Assassin of the Dark Brotherhood. His attire wasn't typical of a Brotherhood Assassin, at least not one known to Tamriel. It was composed of a red leather, sleeveless, and a red hood instead of the typical black. Nevertheless, Aventus sprung up with glee. "It worked! I knew you'd come, I just knew it!" he cheered to himself, "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."
Tasitis pulled over a chair and turned it so the back was facing the boy. He sat down in it backwards before holding a hand out. "Tasitis Amatel, at your service." he introduced himself.
At the sight of the gesture, Aventus' eyes shone as he shook his hand with vigour. "It took so long," he explained after letting go, "So very long. But now that you're here, you can accept my contract."