Killing the enemy of my leader happened onboard a royal ship docked in a bay. Imagine the deep water bay of a river where the ocean’s salinity yet plagues the fresh water, where shark thrashes, where freshwater bass fear to tread.
Up the ropes I went with undead strength hauling my ass aboard, Daedric battle axe pulling back with gravity to send me back to the depths. Like a dead fish I plop aboard, instantly squatting, unhooking the axe. Four? Six guards to crack open like mud crabs?
I begin the wet work.
I take gold from each cooling body, pocket it in my belt-sack. The stately cabins just off the deck is a foolish spot to hide an emperor, and yet that is where they tucked him away. I can smell his fear.
Taking to the shadows again, I hug the walls until I come to the door where the fear emanates. My left hand feels empty, so I pluck my obsidian dagger from my belt, going in with dual-wield muster.
“And there you are,” he says, almost stuttering with fear as he takes in my red eyes, blanched face. “Come closer,” he begs, “don’t be afraid.”
The fool knows he is the one afraid. Skyrim’s vampyrism is more savage than that of old Britain where the Avatar’s aura dulled the edges of evil, and anarchic pride.
I rise from the shadows.
“Last words?” I ask, anger almost tripping my tongue.
“Are you willing to hear about being a dupe of greater powers?” It’s a good try, but I remember the charred corpse of the Dark Brotherhood’s leader, her last words. I’m not having it.
His body goes slack after the ax cleaves his windpipe in half, and the obsidian dagger finds his heart. I spend a moment of cat-like pride feeling his life leave.
I take his gold, a salute to the old Isabel-self of Britain.
Up the angled flag-post I tread carefully, dangerously high over the waters below. Something flashy caught my attention, and since I like my new toys, I slink.
Someone stuck a sword up there. I feel it’s power, anarchic like me. Smiling, I let go and fall to the green water below even as the alarm sounds, for the undead can swim as long they possess will, and with sword protectively glued to my bosom, I fall to the chill depths.