Kill Steal
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This morning, Falkreath woke up on the news of a murder. Someone under the light of day while the Jarl was touring the town and that one was none other than the Jarl's own guard, Helvard.
Almost the whole town witnessed what happened. Almost everything went in the bloodiest of ways. One moment Halvard was following the Jarl, the next he was facing an angry woman who dug her fangs into his neck and made his blood splatter covering every inch of Jarl Seddgeir.
To the calm and quiet Falkreath, this was terror incarnate, for the kill is the Jarl's strongest arm and the killer is a Vampire.
With such an incident about a Vampire targeting a Jarl, every corner in Skyrim was alerted to the existence of those vampires attacks as it would that those beasts have finally grown bold enough to go after the better men and the blue blood.
Jarl Seddgeir survived the attack with three of his men falling victims to the claws of the vampire and while all that happened, the monster still escaped. Who would blame the Jarl for cashing out every favor he has to alert every hold in Skyrim and put a bounty on the Vampire?
The thing that everyone failed to notice was the fine details of the incident itself. Surely anyone who is killing the people of the Jarl is after the Jarl himself but that logic is flawed since Helvard was the Jarl closest man in both rank and action. He would always follow Jarl Seddgeir like his shadow and be alert from every hostile aura targeting his Lord yet a Certain Woman saw this from a whole different perspective.
As she walked in Falkreath carrying a basket of vegetables and dressed like a farmer, she smiled at the townsfolk who recognized her as the woman who sells fruits every Fredas at Falkreath's market. She has a farm outside the town somewhere in a nearby village but no one really cares for a mere villager with
She walked on the muddy street avoiding the coming and going horses, bowed to a Thane patrolling the streets and took the long turn around the Jarl's Longhouse to avoid the security checkpoint around the area.
Falkreath was locked tight.
She found the Alchemist Shop of Falkreath in the innermost corner of town where the buildings meet the mountain and she put the fruit basket on the ground then sat on the wooden sidewalk with her back against the stonewall of the shop. She looked like a simpleton from a village with her old looking dress stained with five inches of mud around the hem of her dress.
"Fresh vegetables! This morning's pick! Fresh vegetables."
As she shouted the same as any villager who sells their fruits in the local street, people started looking at her with annoyance as she was totally out of place. Whoever wants to sell their products go to the market in the middle of town, not in this secluded quiet place. However, the person who got annoyed the most about this noisy villager was none other than Zaria, the owner of Grave Concoctions alchemy store.
Zaria was just brewing some minor healing potions for the morning and had a lot in mind lately so the voice of a villager selling their veggies outside her door was clearly an unwelcome interference. She grabbed a mop and with heavy steps towards the outside of her shop, she went on with her hot-headed Redguard temperament.
"Who in the name of Bal would come to…"
As she raised her mop to shoo off the villager woman, Zaria's feet froze and the muscles of her body stiffened with an instinctive reaction to the stare she received. If stares can kill then the villager's stare was one that snaps necks and slits throats.
"Zari, dear. Been a while." The woman spoke in a tone so clear and yet so faint only Zaria could hear.
The accent changed, the attitude switched, the temperament wasn't that of a rough villager but rather a silent hunter, a deadly trapper, a beast waiting.
Zaria recognized whom she's up against and lowered the mop she raised with cold shivers running on her dark skin.
"Astrid."
"Dear! You look unwell. Is it so dark in there with all the potions and… other things."
Zaria, a mere owner of an alchemy shop or so she seems, met with Astrid, a power-hungry woman who happens to be the leader of the Sanctuary of the Dark Brotherhood.
Of course, the two of them have had prior knowledge of each other. It may even extend to be called History.
"Come on in." Zaria felt strange meeting Astrid this way thus she cleared the way for her inside the shop but Astrid seemed rather… uncaring.
"To be fully honest with you, dear Zari, we are having a situation here. A situation where trust is an issue at the moment. Excuse my caution, of course. Never walk into the den of an alchemist not knowing their intentions, they say." Astrid said with a faint smile on her mud-stained face.
Zaria could see the air of caution looming around Astrid and towards none other than her. This complicates things.
"Astrid, how long have we known each other?"
"You tell me, Zari."
"Then believe me when I tell you it has nothing to do with me."
"Oh! I didn't even begin to ask anything." Astrid laughed, "You are a dear, Zari. I wouldn't suspect you would have any other means other than us to deal with poor Helvard. Still, your revenge against him may have driven you… impatient."
"Impatient?" Zaria dropped all mannerisms of Astrid and glared at her, "You know what this did to me and my sister. Impatient is the word that fits me best while you were stalling for more time and money."
"Hold on! Hold on! Hold on!" Astrid acted a little bit on the retreat, "I haven't done anything about it just because the man was the Jarl's dog. Believe me, killing