Fellow Grimblades. It has been a while since I last contacted you for a contract. But I have finally returned. And have brought a contract I am sure you will accept. So here it is.
While on my travels into the Redguard homeland of Hammerfell, I came across a town known as Hegathe. In that town lived two old Redguards. I ignored them at first, they were just an old couple, best leave them to their affairs. However, they followed me for a while and were even bold enough to enter the inn i was residing. Growing annoyed at the couple I confronted them.
"Tell me, Redguards, why are you following me?!" I shouted to them.
"We are sorry if we angered you, but we see you are not from Hammerfell. Would you, perhaps, be from Cyrrodil?" The woman inquired. I was slightly taken a back, but I answered.
"Yes. I am from Cyrrodil. What of it?"
"Well, we have a son, you see. Trayvond is his name. However, I do not feel comfortable talking about this in public. If you would please, come to our house tonight." I agreed to this, curious about what the couple wanted of me. I waited until around nine pm, and then set off for the couples house. When I got there the old man ushered me in quickly and the woman lit a candle. It's flame illuminated the room I was in, and cast long flickering shadows against the walls. I looked around the room to see all sorts of armor and weapons on the wall. Akaviri katanas lined the wall. A ebony cuirass lay in a show case, and a glass helmet rested on a stand. Jewels and other precious gems and marvelous things filled this house. I was quite awed. But the woman quickly brought my attention to hers.
"Now. We can talk more privately. Our son, Trayvond, went to Cyrrodil to become a mage. Why does this worry us, you ask? It worries us because we are both retired war chiefs. We both served in the War of the Bend'r-mahk. And both lived to tell the tale."
"Didn't Hammerfell AND High Rock lose that war to Skyrim?" I said. At this the man interjected quickly.
"It doesn't matter. We still fought in it. And still lived through it. But listen to us, we have an offer for you. Our son is a mage. If word of this spreads, we will be looked down on. Parents of a mage! They will say. Barely even Redguards! I will not year it! My son must be killed! I have tried reasoning, but he will not give! I have cried and wished there was another way, but there isn't! He needs to die!" As he said this, he and his wifes eyes filled with tears, and his wife gave out a loud sob. I pondered this for a moment and then replied.
"What would be the reward for this?" The man looked startled, and the replied.
"I have a friend named Lenwin. I loaned her some armor. Kill my son, and you shall be given that armor. Wear it proudly. That armor saved my life more than once." And so I thanked the man and woman for their generosity in reward and left the house.
So Grimblades, you know what to do. Kill Trayvond. And then find Lenwin. Simple.
Mmmm. Quite a tasty morsel if I do say so myself. I especially enjoy the dectective work involved. Nice one!