Lore:Diário de Cicero

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Volume 1

18th of Evening Star, 4E 186
Assim que eu comecei essa nova fase da minha vida, eu finalmente decidi manter um diário. Tanta coisa aconteceu comigo até então, tanto dentro e quanto fora da Brotherhood - quando eu penso que não foi feito registro algum do que tem acontecido, isso quase parece ser uma afronta ao próprio Sithis. Então, estou determinado em compensar tal fato.

Sim, a Dark Brotherhood tem os seus próprios escribas e cronistas, mas a única função deles é registrar os eventos considerados de importância para a organização como um todo. Que esse volume sirva como um registro pessoal de um homem, um humilde assassino que jurou sua lâmina e sua vida à Dark Brotherhood.

23rd of Evening Star, 4E 186
Cheguei a salvo no Santuário Cheydinhal e fui calorosamente recebido pela Rasha e os outros. De fato, o nível de suporte e aceitação expressos pela minha nova família chega a transbordar. Pois este santuário conhece o sofrimento, conhece a mágoa, pois os fantasmas da purificação ainda assombram seus salões. Então, quem mais para entender o apuro de um irmão que perdeu sua casa e seu coração? Quem mais para confortar aquele que deixou de ter um santuário?

O santuário Bruma pode ter perecido, mas meus caríssimos irmãos e irmãs viverão eternamente em meus sonhos, assim como suas almas vivem eternamente ao lado do Dread Father.

1st of Rain's Hand, 4E 187
Completei o contrato da baronesa. Ela até que morreu bem. A empregada dela, nem tanto.

12th of Rain's Hand, 4E 187
Cheydinhal é agradável. Com a destruição ou o abandono dos outros santuários, nossos contratos estão em alta, assim como nossos bônus.

Mas ainda assim, parece que estamos perdendo nossas bases por toda Tamriel num ritmo alarmante. Há rumores de que a Black Hand está dividida sobre qual caminho trilhar. Uns preferem expandir, outros, consolidar.

Eu, pessoalmente, acho que a Dark Brotherhood precisa de, no mínimo, manter a ilusão de estar presente em todos os lugares ao mesmo tempo. Se tornou demasiadamente complicado completar (ou até mesmo estabelecer) contratos nas províncias onde já não temos uma presença física, como em Hammerfell. Quanto mais ignoramos Tamriel, mais pessoas perdem a sua fé na Dark Brotherhood - no nosso poder, nos nossos serviços, na nossa dedicação ao Void.

27th of Rain's Hand, 4E 187
A Ouvinte, Alisanne Dupre, tem-nos visitado com certa frequência, vindo lá de sua residência privada em Bravil. Ela e a Rasha estavam discutindo sobre a possibilidade de reabertura do centro de treinamento Shadowscale de Archon, em Black Marsh, mas no final foi decidido que faltávamos em recursos para dar seguimento com o plano.

27th of Rain's Hand, 4E 187
Completei o contrato da Arena. Eu decidi assertivamente fingir ser um admirador fanático e imediatamente caí nas boas graças do Grand Champion. Enquanto eu escoltava o tolo arrogante pela Great Forest, cortei sua garganta e deixei seu cadáver para os ursos.

Ant.: Nenhum

Acima: Cicero's Journal

Próx.: Volume 2

Volume 2

7th of Sun's Height, 4E 188

Wayrest está perdida. A cidade foi tomada por corsários e é apenas uma questão de tempo até que invadam o santuário. Que a Night Mother proteja suas crianças em seus momentos de aflição.

5th of Last Seed, 4E 188

Hoje nós recebemos novas - O santuário Wayrest foi atacado e destruído pelos corsários. Não houve sobreviventes.

Agora restam apenas três fortalezas da Dark Brotherhood em atividade: O Santuário Cheydinhal, aqui na Província Imperial; um Santuário isolado localizado numa floresta em Skyrim; e o Santuário Corinthe de Elsweyr.

A Black Hand ordenou o fechamento do Santuário Corinthe e que seus membros fossem integrados em nossos próprios ranques, aqui em Cheydinhal. Eu vou acolher estes membros novos da família tão calorosamente como eu fui acolhido, quando tempos atrás fiz daqui meu lar.

27th of Hearthfire, 4E 188

A situação em Bravil está indo de mal a pior. A cidade está contaminada pela violência por conta de uma guerra sendo travada entre os dois maiores traficantes de skooma de Cyrodiil, que objetivam obter controle dela. A Ouvinte, Alisanne Dupre, foi obrigada a empregar mercenários para proteger sua própria residência.

1st of Sun's Dusk, 4E 188

As coisas em Bravil chegaram num estopim. A estátua da Lucky Old Lady foi destruída e Alisanne Dupre deixou sua residência para vigiar a cripta da Night Mother, escondida bem abaixo do que sobrou da estátua. Se a cripta for descoberta, Alisanne Dupre vai, com certeza, proteger os restos mortais da Unholy Matron até o seu último suspiro.

Rasha está enviando Garnag e Andronica para auxiliarem na defesa da cripta. Eu implorei para que pudesse acompanhá-los, mas Rasha não permitira. Diz ele que meu lugar é aqui, defendo este Santuário, e eu devo, é claro, respeitar sua decisão.

12th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 188

Provei imprudência no meu contrato e fui privado de meu bônus. O mercador de seda já estava duro e frio, e eu saindo pela janela, quando sua filha entrou no quarto. Eu tive poucas opções naquela hora.

21st of Sun's Dusk, 4E 188

Tanta coisa aconteceu desde meu último registro. Depois que Garnag e Andronica foram até Bravil, não recebíamos mais informações vindas da cidade. Temíamos o pior. Nesta manhã, os temores foram confirmados quando Garnag retornou sozinho, transportando a carga mais preciosa de todas - o grandioso caixão de pedra da própria Night Mother.

A história que Garnag nos contou revira o estômago até dos servos mais carrascos de Sithis. A cripta da Night Mother, invadida. A caríssima irmã Andronica, feita em pedaços. E a nossa Ouvinte, a honradíssima Alisanne Dupre, queimada viva pela tempestadade de fogo dos magos.

Garnag, apesar de gravemente ferido (é quase que certo que ele perderá seu olho direito), conseguiu defender-se dos invasores e transportar o caixão da Night Mother a salvo para fora da cidade. Ele esteve na estrada, desde aquela trágica noite, fazendo seu caminho de volta até aqui.

Ant.: Volume 1

Acima: Cicero's Journal

Próx.: Volume 3

Volume 3

23rd of Sun's Dusk, 4E 188
Now that things have settled down, the reality of our situation has finally come to bear - we are a Dark Brotherhood without a Listener. With no Listener, the Black Sacrament will go unheard. Surely the Night Mother will speak to someone soon, thus choosing a new Listener to take Alisanne Dupre's place. Until that happens, though, we must take to the streets. We must hear the pleas of the desperate and vengeful. The people of Tamriel must not know, must never know, that their prayers to the Night Mother are going unheeded.

24th of Morning Star, 4E 189
It is a new year, and two months since the Night Mother first arrived here at the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, and still the Unholy Matron has not seen fit to speak to any one of us.

And so, Rasha has decided to revive an ancient Dark Brotherhood tradition - the appointing of a Keeper, a guardian whose sole duty is the safeguarding of the Night Mother's remains. The remaining members of the Black Hand will make their decision tomorrow.

25th of Morning Star, 4E 189
I have been chosen. By some incomprehensible twist of fate, the Black Hand has named me the Night Mother's Keeper. In all honesty, I am both incredibly honored and deeply saddened. This means the end of my contracts. I'll be lucky to lift a blade again. Thankfully, Rasha has promised me one final contract before I accept my new duties.

30th of Morning Star, 4E 189.
The jester lies dead. My final contract has been completed. Oh, how he laughed and laughed. Until he didn't.

3rd of First Seed, 4E 189
I have settled well into my new role as Keeper. It is my duty to not only keep the Night Mother's shrine clean, and the candles lit, but to tend to the body as well. The Night Mother's crypt was a consecrated place - shroud-kissed, absent of sunlight, and safe from the world above. Removed from there, the remains are subject to the filth and corruption of the living. The body is perfectly preserved, so the concern is not physical, but rather spiritual - the remains must be sanctified regularly, so that they may continue to serve as a conduit for the Night Mother's soul. Our Matron's eternal spirit may travel the Void freely, but it is through her own earthly remains that she communicates with the Listener.

And so, I wash the corpse weekly with the requisite oils, recite the ancient incantations, and personally see to the extermination of any insects or rodents. If the Night Mother does not speak, it will be because she chooses not to - not because she is unable. This is my responsibility. This is my vow.

12th of Mid Year, 4E 189
Months and months and months and no Listener. Why won't the Night Mother speak to me? I am worthy as Keeper, but not as Listener? I protect our Lady, keep her sanctified, but still she will not grace me with her voice?

4th of Sun's Height, 4E 189
So long since I worked my blade. So long since I saved a soul. But I am now Keeper. No longer a taker.

I think back fondly on my hours with the jester. His laughter, his screams, his pitiful cries. And then, as the end drew near, his laughter once more. Merry in death as well as life. I was honored to know him.

Ant.: Volume 2

Acima: Cicero's Journal

Próx.: Volume 4

Volume 4

1st of Hearthfire, 4E 189
Cheydinhal has erupted into violence and chaos, like so many other cities before it. The Sanctuary has remained unbreached, but for how long? Our numbers are few, and with no Speaker, the contracts have dwindled almost to nothingness. Rasha's hold on the Sanctuary is slipping.

26th of Frostfall, 4E 189
Silence! Deafening silence! In my head in my head in my head. It is the silence of death, the silence of the Void. Seeping into me, through the Mother. The silence is hatred. The silence is rage. The silence is love.

4th of Evening Star, 4E 189
Today, Rasha declared himself Listener, claiming the Night Mother spoke to him at last. But when questioned, he could not name the Binding Words. Liar! Deceiver! His charade must not stand.

5th of Evening Star, 4E 189
Rasha is dead.

As commanded by the silence, so did I obey. I did not wield the knife, oh no, but dipped the honey softly sweet, into Garnag's eager ear. He is a good brother. A loyal brother. To both Cicero and our Matron. He did the deed, gladly.

10th of Sun's Dawn, 4E 190
Only three of us left. Cicero, Garnag, Pontius.

15th of Sun's Dawn, 4E 190
The Night Mother remains silent. I remain unworthy. The Sanctuary remains doomed.

3rd of First Seed, 4E 190
I can hear it. Deeper, and deeper. Louder and louder, punctuating the silence like thunder on a calm evening. Laughter.

4th of First Seed, 4E 190
Laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing! It is the jester! A voice from the Void, to cheer poor Cicero! I accept your gift, dearest Night Mother. Thank you for my laughter. Thank you for my friend.

16th of Rain's Hand, 4E 191
Pontius is dead. A Dark Brotherhood assassin was killed by a common bandit while walking the streets of Cheydinhal. How can something so sad be so funny?

17th of Rain's Hand, 4E 191
I love the laughter, dearest Night Mother, but still I long to hear your voice. It's not too late! Speak to me, my mother! Speak to me, that I may set things right! I can save the Sanctuary, I can save the Brotherhood!

You can have the laughter! Take it back! An exchange, then? The laughter for your voice?

2nd of Second Seed, 4E 191
It's not safe to leave the Sanctuary. We'll stay here. All is well.

29th of Last Seed, 4E 191
Garnag is gone. Gone gone gone gone gone. Left to get food, but he'll be back. It's only been three months. Three months. Tree months? Twelve moths? Four sloths!

21st of Sun's Dusk, 4E 192
Cicero is dead! Cicero is born!

The laughter has filled me, filled me so very completely. I am the laughter. I am the jester. The soul that has served as my constant companion for so long has breached the veil of the Void finally and forever. It is now in me. It is me.

The world has seen the last of Cicero the man. Behold Cicero, Fool of Hearts - laughter incarnate!

28th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 200
Found the old journal, decided to write, a treatise on silence, sound, darkness and light!

How long has it been since the Night Mother first came here? How long since I was made Keeper? How long since I became the fool? Since I've been alone? Since Cheydinhal fell? Since they started pounding on the door, like so many hammered heartbeats?

It's dark in here, and quiet. Poor Cicero no longer hears the laughter, for he is the laughter. There is no Listener in Cheydinhal. No Listener in Cyrodiil. No Listener in me.

We must leave here. Before the Sanctuary falls. Before the Night Mother burns. Before the Dark Brotherhood withers. Before the laughter dies.

29th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 200
I took a stroll, and spied a maid, but Matron's duty stayed my blade. So busy now, I miss the thrill, if only I had time to kill.

Ant.: Volume 3

Acima: Cicero's Journal

Próx.: Final Volume

Final Volume

30th of Sun's Dusk, 4E 200
I have written the letters. So polite. So official! To Astrid, in Skyrim. Her Sanctuary still stands. Still operates. But how? No Listener means no Black Sacrament, no Black Sacrament means no contracts. Her family can abandon the Old Ways, and still survive, still kill, but is that family still Brotherhood? Or something else? Something new. Something different. Something wrong?

Something wrong.

Still, we must go! Tomorrow, we set sail. Float on a boat through the moat called the sea her and me!

22nd of Evening Star, 4E 200
Sick sick sick of the rocking tossing rolling throwing upon the gray gray waves!

I've been reading of Skyrim, of the good days, the old days, of the Old Ways. There was another Sanctuary once. A Dawnstar Sanctuary. Good, ancient and strong. Blessed by Sithis. Cicero will go there! No need of Astrid!

The Mother and I will settle, and she will speak to me, finally, and we will build the Old Ways anew, together.

23rd of Evening Star, 4E 200
The passphrase is mine! I have found it, in a letter ancient as the Sanctuary itself.

The Black Door will ask - "What is life's greatest illusion?"

I am to answer - "Innocence, my brother."

Finally, a space, a place, to call my own! A joker's retreat for the Fool of Hearts!!!!

4th of First Seed, 4E 201
The Sanctuary is home! As I had dared hope! Cool and dark and lovely. My Sanctuary, Sanctuary from all.

I know its every corner, every hall, every shadowed nook and alcove. My Sanctuary. The guardians know me, recognize me as Keeper. They leave poor Cicero alone. The big ugly beast - a different story. He'd eat me if he could, but to bind me, grind me, he'd need to find me. And Cicero will make sure that does not happen. For I have Sanctuary!

Sanctuary from all.

13th of First Seed, 4E 201
The Sanctuary is safety, and salvation. But silent, so silent. I give my love to the Unholy Matron. I give my laughter freely. But I do not hear her. The silence has returned. Now that I am laughter, and no longer hear laughter, I once again hear the silence. The silence of the Void. It reaches across time and space. Its silence is deafening, once more.

1st of Rain's Hand, 4E 201
Mother and Keeper must go. I am not the Listener, and never will be. But I am the Keeper. I must serve my Mother's will above my own. I must find her Listener. I must teach Astrid the error of her ways, the beauty and necessity of the Old Ways. I have sent the letter to Astrid. We leave soon. But Cicero will keep this Sanctuary as his Sanctuary!

A place to rest and ply my trade, for I once more take up the blade, and send some lucky souls to Him, when laughter strikes, as fits my whim!

Ant.: Volume 4

Acima: Cicero's Journal

Próx.: Nenhum