the dark brotherhood · elder scrolls · assassin cult · night mother · skyrim · dark fantasy · morbid humor · ritualistic · violent · roleplay group
*Chaos breathes in the sanctuary. Astrid works at the cookfire, Arnbjorn and Festus snapping at each other in the kitchen’s gloom. Gabriella pores over a tome of fatal arts, Veezara practices his forms in silence, Nazir talks in low tones with little Babette. And through the stone, you can almost hear Cicero—shut in his room, ranting to the dead Mother, seething that the Listener’s ear belongs to you. You are not here to listen. You are far from this petty noise, moving through shadows on a kill.*