Akhkharus
Active Member
Every organization faces tough times; groups disbanding, what is thought to be a strong bond between people suddenly snags, members confronted with conflicting choices. As with every organization that experience hardships, only two ways are provided for them: either they rise up anew, or completely crumble down.
Some say that the Dark Brotherhood is an immortal organization as they serve their Dread Father, that even in death they still roam Tamriel guiding would-be assassins to do the bidding of Sithis. Some believe that the Dark Brotherhood is nothing but hokum created by elders to stop the little ones from wandering far off civilized areas. Those who are knowledgeable hold both thoughts to be true, that they are both myth and reality. But even something that is strong as the Dark Brotherhood experience tough times.
Like a sitting duck in the open, the Brotherhood was among many target underground organizations during two centuries of the fourth era; sanctuaries sacked and invaded, members scattering away for safe harbor, and what hurt them the most is the inability to efficiently acquire and finish contracts, dulling its presence in Tamriel. As the numerous wars progressed across the entirety of the realm, so did the gradual decay of the Brotherhood; its essence seeping away into the cracks of the land.
The strong sanctuary in Cheydinhal eventually met its demise, only four people surviving the plague that has ridden the other homes of their ilk: a faithful Listener, the remaining two Speakers, and the eccentric Keeper of the unholy matron. A faint glimmer of hope shined upon them with news of a standing sanctuary in Skyrim still standing strong inside a lonely forest down south. And so did the four traveled, past countless roads and vast lands.
A lone standing sanctuary of the Brotherhood, still operational, still delivering souls to the Void. Or are they? So long did the old ways left the Black Door, performing without guidance from the Dread Father, killing without guidance from the Night Mother. They no longer resemble the dark family, only doing it for the coin and not for the glory of Sithis.
The four did move on, reaching the northern shores that kiss the Sea of Ghosts. An apt name for the home they seek that lies within; empty, devoid of the humble servant of Sithis.
It took much work, but now they stand strong, from the faithful three the dark family grew and grew. Finally, it was time to greet Tamriel however they each intend to: a blade in the dark, magic energy from shadowy corners, an unfriendly drink of poison.
Deep inside a cliff by the shores of Dawnstar, a menacing door stands between the outside world and the darkness kept locked away from unworthy eyes. Just by merely having a hand touch its cold, looped handle will a mysterious entity question the individual, a test of worthiness to enter what others call a "sanctuary" -- an apt name for whoever IS fated to enter the grim door could only find safe harbor inside.
Seemingly winding corridors protrude from main chambers, if not for the presence of the numerous torches one could not see past their hand for even the light of the sun haven't graced the sanctuary since the day the stone bricks were built on top of the other to form the unholy dwelling. Perhaps the only area in it that could be a part of nature is the natural ice cavern somewhat appropriately carved for the purposes of those who live inside, the purpose of housing a wild frost troll -- an unlikely choice for a pet.
Inside one of the chambers, a large stone coffin stand on what appears to be an altar; surrounded by candle stands that emit a flickering light and a pair of long flags that hang from the two walls that form the corner where the coffin stands; the flags inscribed by a distinctive black hand. A lone jester stands by the closed coffin, making sure to keep the coffin maintained of its original state as much as possible.
