I made this fanfic a while ago. Around the start of 2013 I think. I've decided to post it here so it won't sit on my computer forever. Please point out canonical errors if I made them, although I think I was pretty good about that. This fanfic contains a few swear words and was my first attempt at writing something like this. You have been warned.





The Captures






You’re walking through the forest that surrounds the city of Riften, arguing with your fellow bandits about whether or not you should pay off your bounty’s to start an honest life, or to attack a trade caravan that would have a major influence on the local economy . you hear a twig snap and a bird give a warning call, Vasha slowly unsheathes the dagger on his left hip and places his index finger over his mouth as a signal to be quite, then angles his ears to where the sound came from, and move’s to the source silent as the wind. He peers into a bush and chuckles “was only a squirrel, that proves my and cassandree’s point only more.” Valgronuk snorts and says “That doesn’t prove anything. You’ve always been paranoid, especially since you took to the skooma.” Vasha glares at Valgronuk and says “If I so paranoid why did I join bandit clan then?” “OH so you forgot how we saved you then” Valgronuk grins and adds “Or did you think you fought off the town guard all by yourself? Ya know what I think, it’s high time you either leave the clan or die in battle, cause you’re of no use to us. Ya filthy cat.” An expertly aimed arrow from an unknown assailant killed Valgronuk as it went through his throat. Vasha and Cassandree both gasp. Vasha cowers on the ground with his hands over his head while Cassandree starts drawing her great sword but, an arrow was shot at her chest, you assume it was met to hit her heart but it missed by a couple inches. Still the arrow went deep enough to be a killing blow. Cassandree stumbled forward a couple of feet and fell to her side, clutching her wound in an attempt to stop the blood from gushing out. You suddenly notice Vasha start to grow larger and change form into a werewolf and then he starts dashing away, fleeing the arrows. As Vasha slips out of sight a burlap sack is put over your head. You franticly reach for your sword but, you’re pushed to the ground with a hard kick to middle of back before you could even feel the hilt. Someone quickly bind’s your wrists together with a strong knot and says in the impatient but seductive voice of a young woman “Come on get up. We don’t have all day.” You obey her command, knowing they could and probably will kill you at any moment. As you get up a strong hand is placed on your shoulder, and a cold voice with an Argonian accent says “We’re going to have to walk for a bit.” Then he adds “Wouldn’t want you trying to escape now would we?” So you start walking in the direction the Argonian tells you, the whole time his hand on your shoulder.


After walking winding trails for what seems like an hour you come to a stop. The woman says “Alright we’re here. Lay down flat on your stomach prisoner.” When you lay down you feel two strong hands grab your wrist and another pair grabs your ankles, and then the ground is jerked away from under you as your thrown into the back of what you assume is a passenger buggy of some-sorts. A low and commanding male voice says “Get up off the floor and sit on the bench. You may be a prisoner but you’re not dirt.” Then he adds to himself “Or a Dunmer to a Nord…” Then an old and scratchy male voice says “I HEARD THAT!” you realize he must be a Nord. “Why should I care? It’s not like I can be exiled from the brotherhood for not being friends with you.” The Nord says “Astrid how much is the fine for killing a brother?” The same seductive voice you heard earlier answered “Why finally had enough of that little gray skins back talk? Or do you need to practice your destruction magic? Either way, its three hundred Septims.” The Nord says grimly “Good I can afford that. Mind if I pay you in advance?” Astrid reply’s “Not at all Krex.” A few moments later you hear the sound of mage fire accompanied by the screams of the Dark Elf beside you. After a couple minutes the screams and the gout of mage fire stops. Astrid says “Alright now that that’s over, are we going get this prisoner of ours to the Sanctuary so we can decide his fate? Or are we going to stay here all day?” with that said the carriage started to move.


After what seems like an eternity of waiting and silence you hear Krex say “Stop the carriage Astrid I can sense a guard patrol up ahead.” The carriage stops immediately after he says that. Two maybe three assassins hop out of the carriage. After a few moments of silence you hear a twig snap and the whistling of several arrows and the dreadful sound of bodies hitting the ground. A couple seconds later you hear the Argonian beside you say “It sounded like they didn’t even fight back.” A low and gruff voice replied “They didn’t even see us coming Veezara. By the time those Ham shanks saw us; they were either dead or about to die.” “Don’t brag Arnbjorn” It was Astrid “Those ‘Ham shanks’ as you call them heard us and started drawing their swords before our arrows left the quiver, but your right Veezara they didn’t have a chance to fight back.” “Now I don’t mean to break up this conversation.” Krex started to speak “But we have to get to the sanctuary.” “You’re right Krex. We are wasting valuable twilight standing here talking” That was Astrid who spoke. After a couple seconds you hear the assassins hop back in the carriage and it starts moving again.


After another long period of time the carriage stops and Arnbjorn says “Alright prisoner get up and out of the carriage, were here.” You obey and once you fall on the ground and get up Veezara’s hand is placed on your shoulder again. You start following the directions Veezara tells you. After you walk down a little hill and pass by the sound of trickling water you hear an almost ethereal voice say “What is the music of life?” Astrid replies barely audible “silence my brother.” the voice says “Welcome home brother.” As the voice finishes speaking you hear the sound of a large stone grinding against another stone, and then you’re escorted into the sanctuary.


Once inside the group of assassin’s inner sanctum Astrid says “I was thinking brothers; do you remember that rumor about how the orphanage headmistress was murdered? Well if that rumor is true, don’t you think we should recruit that rouge assassin before he kills more of our marks?” A loud male voice you do not recognize speaks up “Hmmm… you have a good point Astrid. If that rouge assassin were to keep taking our contracts, the good people of Skyrim will lose confidence in us, and then our last sanctuary will be nothing but a barren cave.” You suddenly feel a sense of dread as a young girl about ten years old says “Honestly Nazir, sometime you act as if we have no influence left In Skyrim.” “Well I’m just worrying about what would happen if we don’t start getting more contracts Babbete.” Babbete lets out a little sigh and says “What happened to you Nazir? You used to be the most cynical and sarcastic person here and now you’ve turned into a Khajjit on skooma, always paranoid…” “He has a point Babbete.” It was Astrid who spoke “With how many contracts we’re getting it may be fine for a group that’s just starting out, but for a thousands of years old organization. We might as well consider ourselves ghost of what we once were.” “I’m not arguing that point. I agree that this rouge assassin should be hired; if he were hired then we would be able to accept at least forty more contracts a year. What I’m saying is that too much stress is being put on Nazir.” A slow and methodical female voice says “So what you’re saying Babbete is that Nazir cannot handle the stress of dealing with maybe two hundred contracts a year?” “Coupled with the stress of knowing how close the fall of our sanctuary is then yes.” “Well if we do hire the rouge assassin then some stress will be taken off Nazir.” This is Astrid speaking “But that will only lead to more contracts being taken.” Krex spoke up. “I wouldn’t mind deciding what contracts I get. I barely have breath to run after a Solitude contract, and my bones always ache after taking a job in the snowy regions of Skyrim. So I can choose my own contracts and Nazir will no longer have to worry about giving them to me, if that’s ok with you Astrid.” “It is Krex. That resolves the contract problem, now the problem is locating this rouge assassin… Veezara, would you mind researching this rumor a bit more, and see if you can get a description of him.” Veezara replies “I’ll do anything for you Astrid.”

After a couple moments of silence Astrid says “Well aren’t we going to take this prisoner to the chamber or are we going to let him wander the sanctuary all day, Arnbjorn mind taking him to there?” “Yes Astrid.” As you’re led through the main clearing you feel heat only a forge could make, then a couple seconds later as you’re walking up a stairwell the deafening roar of a waterfall meets your ears. Puzzled you think why would they put a forge so close to a waterfall? The Roar of the waterfall fades and is replaced by the sound of a frostbite spider as you step into another room. Arnbjorn stops walking and says “That spiders tame. I still wouldn’t suggest fighting it.” Arnbjorn starts walking again and leads you into a dank room. “This is where you will be living from now on. I’m going to take this off your head now, but the rope around your wrists is not coming off.”


You feel the knot around your neck begin to loosen and light flood your eyes. You blink several times to help adjust to the sudden light. You see a small empty cave with a hay pile that has a small patch of rough cloth on it. You start looking for the source of the light that blinded you a couple moments ago. You see a small hole in the roof of the cave. You look to Arnbjorn so you can recognize him later on, and see he is hanging back in the shadows. You only know where he is by the glinting of his cold eyes. But even seeing his silhouette you can tell from his muscles that he could rip off your arm if he wanted to. After a couple seconds Arnbjorn walks out of the cave and close’s the entrance behind him. You start walking around the cave to get an idea of how small it is and find the cave is bigger than you originally thought. You then walk under the hole in the roof of the cave to see if you can catch a glimpse of either trees or low growing shrubs, so you can get a better idea of what region you are in. you already know that you’re in one of the more southern regions of Skyrim because you see no snow and no chilling wind touched you on the trip here.
Looking through the hole you see large pine trees and some overgrown grass drooping down the hole. You now know you’re in or around the Falkreath hold.


A day or two passes and you don’t have a solution on how to escape, alive that is. Plenty of ideas on how to get out of your cell have come to mind but, none of them will let you get past the guard outside of your cell. Around mid-day the entrance to your cell opens and a man with ripped sleeves, huge muscles, no shoes, and long white hair brings another person into the cell, a woman. The man says to her “I am going to take the sack off your head now and then the rag out of your mouth.” You recognize the voice as Arnbjorn. He takes the sack off her head then the rag out of her mouth. The woman says with her loud and whinny voice “Finally you took that rag out of my mouth. Now are you going to take that rope off wrists or not?” you watch the man to see his reaction. But he merely takes a deep breath and says “No that rope is not coming off your wrists.” She looks at him and says “Why not? It’s not like I could escape even if my hands were free.” He stares at her for a couple seconds, his anger towards her Cleary visible in his eyes. “Look I cannot take that off your wrists. Believe me I would just to shut you up. But Astrid wants your wrists to be bound. If you can get that rope off by yourself then do it, we won’t put it back on if you do.” He quickly walks out of the room and closes the door.


The woman looks over at you and says “So what’s your name?” This being the first time you’ve spoken in a while you’re voice comes out a bit rough. “It’s Fultheim The Fearless.” The woman says “My names Alea, Alea Quintus. Why do they call you The Fearless?” you stare at her for a couple seconds trying to remember why it is The Fearless was added to your name. Then you remember. “Before I was abducted I was part of a bandit clan. The clan I was a part of was stationed at Fort Greenwall, and one morning a Khajiit was seen running towards the fort. The archers took aim but decided not to waste arrows on the Khajiit. After all he was unarmed, and even from a distance we could tell he was a piss drunk. As he got closer to the fort we heard yelling and shouting from a large group of people. Probably didn’t pay his bar tab or something. As he flew through our gates and hid in the stables, the large group of people turned out to be the city’s guard. I can guarantee you I wasn’t the only one thinking ‘What in Oblivion did that Khajiit do?’ anyways, I was one of the bandits that saved him from the guard. He wanted to join the clan we let him, but not before he told us his name and why the guard was after him. His name was Vasha and why the city guard was after him he didn’t know. He said ‘one minute I having a drink with someone named sapphire the next, the guard come’s storming into the bar and is asking for, well asking might be wrong word, yelling for me, so naturally I got out of there as fast I could and my feet carry me here.’ We then told him to tend the forge and practice his smithing skills. Valgronuk hated him and was convinced he was on skooma, just because Vasha was a lousy smith. Last time I saw Vasha he was running away like a coward when our hunting party was ambushed, I don’t blame him though they probably would’ve shot him dead.” Aleas only reply was “humph” As if she didn’t really care or was too caught in up her thoughts to really pay attention. “Were you listening?” “You said something about a drunken Khajjit, and him bringing the guard to your fort.”


Great the first person I see in a couple years that won’t stab me in the back, figuratively or literary, and she doesn’t even listen. Three or so more days later another prisoner is brought to the holding cell, this time a Khajiit, and this time a woman brings the prisoner. You assume its Astrid because her voice matches this woman’s hourglass figure and trance inducing walk, as she spoke your assumption proved to be correct. “This sack is coming off your head now.” ”What about the wrist binds?” “You can take the rope around your wrists off yourself.” As that Khajiit spoke you immediately recognized his thick accent and moderately high voice as Vasha. When Astrid leaves you say “Daedra and Divines Vasha it’s good to see you.” “Fultheim I thought I was only survivor after ambush. Is good to see you alive still.” Alea has a puzzled look on her face “you know this cat?” “Of course I do Alea. Remember the Khajiit I was telling you about? Well this is him.” A few more uneventful days pass, then some more, and on about your tenth day of imprisonment, something odd happens. Astrid comes into the cell followed by an Argonian and Arnbjorn.


Astrid says “Veezara, take the cat, Arnbjorn, take the Nord.” And at that you Alea and Fultheim were bound and gagged, escorted out of the sanctuary, and thrown into a passenger buggy of sorts. Unlike the first time the buggy ride is filled with conversation between the assassins. After a day or so you feel a cool breeze against your scales, then the air slowly becomes colder, but not so cold that it could snow. As if you were passing into the Whiterun hold. A couple hours later you feel something wet drop on your arm, and some more drop on your legs, and some seeps through the sack on you head. You realize it must be raining and as you realize that it picks up speed. You hear Arnbjorn “Damn it Astrid it’s starting to rain.” “Well put up the tarp.” “We didn’t have room enough for the tarp.” “We’ll have to keep going until we find cover then.” “There is no cover Astrid, this is the Whiterun hold.” “Your point?” “It’s all moorland, except a few caves which are either full of bandits or full of vampires.” “What else are we supposed to do Arnbjorn, teleport to Morthral?” Their argument continues for a couple minutes until they decide to have Veezara Run to Whiterun and buy/steal a tarp, whichever is more convenient. Astrid helps Veezara find his civilian clothes among their supplies, and also tells him to wait at the Loreius Farm for them if there not there yet after he gets a tarp. You hear Veezara jump off the cart and make a kind of wet thud when he hits the ground. His squelching footsteps fade off in the distance as the buggy starts to move.


About half a day later the buggy stops, and you hear someone climb on. Veezara speaks “Astrid there’s a jester down there with a coffin claiming to be Cicero. You want to check it out?” “We’ll check it out on the way back. If he is Cicero I really don’t have the patience to deal with him right now.” “Fair enough, Arnbjorn help me put the tarp up.” You hear Arnbjorn get up and help Veezara unfold the tarp. The assault of numbing water ended so you assume they finished putting the tarp up. Your assumption was confirmed when you hear Arnbjorn “Thank Sithis we got that tarp up a minute longer and I would’ve been frostbitten. So we continue to Morthral now?” “Of course, Veezara’s back and we have a tarp.” The buggy starts moving.


After what feels like days the sound of grass being crushed by wheels and hooves is replaced by a constant wet sound. After a couple hours of this the buggy comes to a lurching stop, Arnbjorn curses under his breath, and says “The buggy’s stuck in the mud, looks like we’ll have to go by foot the rest of the way.” *sigh* “Damn it I was hoping we could go by buggy for at least another hour.” After a moment’s pause “Same as before I escort the Argonian, Arnbjorn you escort the woman, and Veezara escorts the cat.” You’re grabbed on the shoulder by a small yet strong hand and helped out of the buggy. As you’re being led through the marshes that make up the Morthral hold you start to feel a little at peace because you realize any hopes you had of being rescued or escaping are now next to nil. Well I was born in a swamp only fair I die in one.


After another hour or so you hear Astrid say “It’s getting dark we should set up camp.” Veezara speaks “I am assuming we’ll take rotations for watch.” “Correct, you’re on watch.” As the night grows you hear the occasional sound of arrows flying from their bow into their now dead or severely wounded target. When day comes you have not been travelling for an hour yet and you hear Astrid “I can see the cabin now. About five more minutes and we’ll come to the canoe.” True to her word you got there by canoe. So now your bound, gagged, and blindfolded in some cabin in a swamp.


Nothing happens for the first day or so until the door creaks open, then something heavy was laid down on something, then you hear Astrid climb up onto something that’s obviously high in the room. Maybe a shelf or a cabinet you can’t see anything. After a couple minutes you hear Astrid say “Sleep well?” an unfamiliar voice says “What? Where am I? Who are you?” “Does it matter? Your warm dry… and still very much alive. That’s more than can be said for old Grelod hmm?” “You know about that?” “Half of Skyrim knows. Old hag gets butchered in her own orphanage? Things like that tend to get around. Oh, but don’t misunderstand. I’m not criticizing. It was a good kill. Old crone had it coming. And you saved a group of urchins, to boot. Ah. But there is a slight… problem.” “A problem?” “You see, that little Aretino boy was looking for the Dark Brotherhood. For me, and my associates. Grelod The Kind was, by all rights, a Dark Brotherhood contract. A kill… that you stole. A kill you must repay.” After a long silent pause the stranger speaks “You want me to murder someone else? Who?” “Well now, funny you ask. If you turn around, you’ll notice my guests. I’ve ‘collected’ them from… well, that’s not really important. The here and now. That’s what matters. You see, there’s a contract out on one of them, and that person can’t leave this room alive. But… which one? Go on, see if you can figure it out. Make your choice. Make your kill. I just want to observe… and admire.” The seconds feel like minutes as you all wait for a reply, finally it comes “All right, I’ll do it. I’ll kill one of them.” “See, I knew we could resolve this civilly. A debt owed must be repaid. You understand that. Well, go to it then. Pick your guest, and send the poor fool to the void. I’ll give you the key to this shack, and you’ll be on your way.” After several terrifying seconds you hear Vasha cry out in pain it was muffled but still loud enough to hear, then Alea, and now you. As your life slowly slips from your body into the ether, the last voice you hear is Astrid’s “Well, well. Aren’t we the overachiever. Three possibilities, three victims. Must have been one of them, right? So why take chances…”

Not trying to be offensive, but you should really divide your story into paragraphs. Otherwise I don't think that anyone would read this huge text block. Considering it's such a long text it was probably a lot of work and may be pretty good. And you want it to be read by others, so just a tip. ^^

...I don't know much about Skyrim and don't usually read fanfictions though. But maybe I'll read some of it, when you've edited it.

Ryroe : I will do that, It didn't look this intimidating on word starter lol.