Imperial City — Market District Square One Week After the Assassination, 4E 201 Rain threatened overhead, turning the white stones of the Market District slick and gray. The square was packed long before the herald arrived. Merchants abandoned their stalls. Beggars pushed to the front. Legion veterans stood with folded arms beneath dripping awnings. Refugees from the southern borders clustered together nervously, whispering prayers to the Divines. Above them all, the banners of the Empire hung at half-mast. Black cloth wrapped around the dragon sigils. The herald finally emerged onto the raised marble platform flanked by two Legionaries in polished armor. Unlike the crowd, he wore mourning colors — black robes trimmed with gold thread. He looked exhausted. The murmuring slowly died. The herald broke the wax seal on the scroll with trembling fingers. When he spoke, his voice carried across the square with practiced authority. “Citizens of the Empire. By decree of the Elder Council.” Even the wind seemed to quiet. “It is now confirmed that His Imperial Majesty, Titus Mede the Second, was assassinated aboard the Katariah while anchored at Solitude.” A woman near the front covered her mouth. Someone else muttered a curse. The herald continued. “The assassins responsible are believed to be members of the outlawed order known as the Dark Brotherhood.” That broke the silence. The crowd erupted instantly. “Impossible—” “The Brotherhood’s extinct!” “They killed the Emperor?!” The Legionaries slammed spear-butts against the stone platform. Order returned slowly. The herald pressed on. “The assassination follows the murder of Lady Vittoria Vici during her wedding ceremony in Solitude only days prior. The Elder Council therefore recognizes these attacks as coordinated acts against the stability of the Empire itself.” At the edge of the crowd, an old Colovian veteran lowered his head. A younger man beside him whispered: “Gods… not again.” The herald unrolled the second half of the scroll. “To ensure the swift restoration of order, the Elder Council has authorized the formation of a special investigative commission under the authority of the Penitus Oculatus.” A pause. Then: “The commission shall be led by Vice Director Valentinian Nepos.” The reaction was immediate — not outrage, but recognition. People knew the name. The young officer from the southern campaigns. The rising star of the Oculatus. The man who had broken led Legio XVI in the Blue Rose War in Tullius’ absence. Whispers rippled through the square. “Nepos?” “The Colovian?” “I heard he fought the Bretons personally.” “They say he never sleeps.” The herald continued reading. “Accompanying the Vice Director are Senior Inspectors Cassius Voren, Livia Drusus, and Vex Vulpur. The commission departs for Skyrim immediately. The perpetrators of these crimes will be found and punished.” This time, the silence afterward felt heavier. More uncertain. Then the rumors began. Quiet at first. Then everywhere at once. “You think the Brotherhood acted alone?” “No chance.” “Someone paid them.” “An Elder Councilor maybe.” “Stormcloaks.” “The Thalmor.” “The Mede family itself.” A fishmonger crossed herself nervously. “The Emperor dead… and the Dominion waiting across the sea…” Nearby, two merchants argued in hushed voices. “If the Brotherhood can reach the Emperor, who’s safe?” “Safe? There is no safe anymore.” At the front of the crowd, the old veteran spat rainwater onto the stones. “Doesn’t matter who held the knife,” he muttered. “Empires don’t get this weak overnight. Something’s rotten in White-Gold.” No one answered him. Above the square, thunder rolled faintly over the Imperial City. The herald stepped down from the platform as Legionaries cleared a path through the crowd. The people watched him go in fearful silence.

The Vice Director