Skyrim: The Nightshade Assassin

Contract: Kill Jorunn

Chapter 4

"The target will remain in Windhelm, no need to travel to another destination time to time, so this'll be easier than the last one," Astrid explains, slowly turning her head towards me. I smile sheepishly, scratching the back of my head. "The target's name is Jorunn, and will be located at the Candlehearth Hall, explained to be lounging on the second floor until late at night. He's a bit of a talker, extremely gullible. I'm sure you two will be just fine," she concludes, pushing both Arnbjorn and I up the staircase.

Gripping Shadowmere's mane, Arnbjorn decides to walk. Astrid packed us six loafs of bread, three wedges of cheese, two mead bottles replaced with water, and seven sweetrolls.

Arnbjorn rummages through the bag, seeming confused and irritated, as usual. "What's all this food for? We're only going to Windhelm. By Sithis, seven sweetrolls and three wedges?"

If only he knew how much of an appetite I can have. "Four pieces of bread and the cheese is mine, water for each of us, and the sweetrolls are my property."

"Whatever," he groans. "I'm taking one sweetroll."

"Touch them and you die."

I feasted on three loafs and two wedges along the way, leaving Arnbjorn to remain silent. A few farmers traveling the path gazed at our unusual horse, in which Arnbjorn growled at. They scurried away like a herd of Skeevers.

"You really are a big eater. Careful not to eat our horse next," he breathes, eating his bread. Shadowmere throws him an insulted glance and continues to trot up the road. I pat his side. Aw, he offended our steed.

We are finally at the stone steps of Windhelm, leaving me shivering madly as Arnbjorn rolls his eyes.

"Honestly, I thought you were part Nord," he says, watching my nose run and have pieces of snow land harshly against my hair.

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms and I bare my teeth. "I only have the appearance of my Nord father, smart one."

We pause near the stables, tying Shadowmere near the two horses that accompanies the small place. We hurry off to the large door, passing through it. I study the outskirts of this hold, scanning prejudice Nords to the elves. Arnbjorn just seems amused by my whinging.

Heading towards the inn, I am greeted by Elda, the innkeeper, saying, "This here's Candlehearth Hall. Great room's upstairs, an' there's a bed for rent on the ground floor." She takes in a look at my elf ears, narrowing her eyes a bit, but I'm guessing a part of her was thankful I wasn't a Dunmer. "Stay out of trouble, Elf." She smiles kindly at Arnbjorn, but he doesn't do the same, and instead follows my steps to our room after we paid.

"Get out," I tell him, grasping my fine clothes. "I'll be changing. You'll need to change yours, too, so be ready."

I strip my Dark Brotherhood uniform and hide it in the chest. Elda pretty much didn't recognise our armour, due to the dim light, but the residents upstairs will. Even when we are inside, the chills still seep to my skin, sending me into a burst of chatters. My pale skin has visible goosebumps. Dear Sithis, how do Nords stand the freezing temperature? I quickly change into my maroon attirement, sighing heavily.

Partnering with the snappy Wolf Man isn't easy. I try forcing him to wear normal clothes, or at least a different pair of armour to replace his crimson Brotherhood uniform. He obliges immediately after I hold up glass armour, which has green and good and hints of blue on it, thinking that it'll look maybe decent on him. He continues to refuse until I force him to wear fine clothes I found in the wardrobe, which is devoid of any hue of blue. I swear, that lard is so picky. As soon as he is finished changing, I almost burst out laughing until he gives me a threatening scowl, causing me to bite my tongue as he walks out in clothes I've never seen on him before.