[I do not own any part of the Elder Scrolls series nor am I affiliated with them in any way.] This is a short story of a contract of my roleplaying character Lucille. She is a nine year old Dark Brotherhood assassin who is blunt as often rude to others, but has a soft side she sometimes shows. Comments, and just having you read this is very much appreciated, I wanna know your opinion~
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The warm night air rolled across the grass, through the bushes and the trees, across the many rooftops of Whiterun's cloud district. Perched atop one of these houses was a young, hooded assassin, whose fiery red hair and bright green eyes could just barely be seen through the darkness. The girl scoured her eyes over the streets for any sign of the city watch, before moving her gaze back to her target...A spotted cow, resting in one of the small grassy yards below. The assassin slid a hand into her uniform pocket and grasped one of the two vials that lay inside. "One should be enough." she thought to herself as she slid her hood up over her head.
The girl slipped off the roof and landed in the fenced yard with a quiet thud. She crept over to the sleeping creature, popping the cork off the container with her teeth, before releasing and letting it fall back down into her pocket. With her other hand she began to wrench the animal's jaw open. It's eyes popped to life at the forceful touch, but a vile liquid was already flowing across it's tongue before it could react in any other way.
The assassin began to turn away, but she found herself being kept in place. She looked again to the cow and found that it had grabbed hold of her sleeve in an attempt at fighting back. The girl tried tugging away once more, then forcing the cow's mouth open a second time, but it was prepared this time and kept it's jaws clenched shut.
In a final attempt at freeing herself, she pulled back and kicked the cow on it's front leg as hard as she could. The creature let out a loud "Moo!" of a yelp, it's mouth opening and allowing the girl to go free as it did. "What was that?" A male voice was heard not far down the street. The assassin cocked her head in the direction of the noise before darting back up the roof from which she came.
"Must've just been my imagination." She heard as she danced across the rooftops, a silhouette in the light of the moon.
Much to the dismay of the owning family, and the delight of the woman next door (whose prize winning flowers were often eaten by the animal that would break into her yard) the cow was found dead the next morning, with no sign as to what could've caused it's death.
