Si'Basha placed the book on the stand next to him and stood up from his armchair. He looked through the window, and observed the busy streets of the city of Solitude. It was midday, and the sky was filled with big, gray clouds. "It's going to snow soon" he thought, slightly shaking his head. A Stormcloak patrol was passing below his window. "Those bastards..." he muttered, with his eyes filled with hate. Before the Great Civil War, that happened around a decade ago, Si'Basha was a successful Khajiit that managed to attain the title of Thaneship throughout the nine Holds of Skyrim for the first time in the written history. He was respected, he was rich, he had power... And then the stupid Stormcloaks had to ruin it all. When these racist nordic hogs took over Skyrim, he has lost most of his hard earned titles and was forced to live in his cottage in Solitude, where Ulfric's influence wasn't that high.
Si'Basha stopped looking through the window and grabbed his winter coat from the wardrobe. Then he opened the front door and headed outside, to the cold streets of the once-Empire-Controlled city of Solitude. He slowly walked towards the Winking Skeever inn, with his tail hidden and wearing a hood to conceal his Khajiit origins from the nordic extremists in the area. When he was at the door to the tavern, he entered inside and approached the counter, where Corpulus Vinius was cleaning an iron mug with a white rag. Upon seeing Si'basha he placed the mug and rag on the table and asked:
"Welcome back, thane Si'Basha. The usual glass, right?"
"Yes, Corpulus, the usual glass." Si'Basha had a really good accent for a Khajiit. "What is the word around this place?"
"Not much, really." the innkeeper said while pouring a bottle of firebrand ale into the mug. "There are tensions building up in the Ulfric's court about who will take charge of Skyrim after their leader's death. Hmph, they didn't have enough spilled Imperial blood to satisfy their needs and now they are cutting each other's throats to take control over their leader's territory. What a bunch of mindless idiots, claiming that they care about their "homelands" and "traditions"... Ha, traditions my ass!" he spit on the ground and handed the mug to the Khajiit. "In the other news, there are also travelers talking about an ever-increasing bandit activity in the southern holds, so you should be careful if you travel around that area. Also, there are rumours that the Empire is considering to retake Skyrim under their lead again; I hope that it's true."
"Retaking Skyrim, you say?" Si'Basha said in a curious voice while taking a drink from his mug. "Interesting... Anything else?"
"No, that's all. Oh, and also I forgot to mention that your cousin's trading caravan will arrive to the borders of Solitude next week. Maybe you can visit him when you have some time."
"Thanks for the advice." Si'Basha said while finishing the ale. And then he noticed a strange figure entering a bedroom. By her movements, Si'Basha could tell that she was a woman that didn't want to get caught. A bit paranoid, the wealthy Khajiit thought about the worst; someone ordered the Brotherhood to kill him. He placed the mug on the counter, alongside with a bag of septims and approached the room where he saw the possible assassin. Without making a noise, he peeked inside the keyhole, and saw the woman standing with the back facing at him. Taking advantage of the situation, Si'Basha picked the lock and entered in the bedroom, with the ebony sword in his hand. When he was behind her, he has put the blade on her throat, and held her tightly so she couldn't do anything to attack him.
"Shh, quiet now." he whispered in a calm but creepy tone (considering the situation), while stopped her from struggling. "And now, you little Brotherhood rat, tell me who sent you to kill me, or you can forget seeing the light of day ever again. Or should I say, the darkness of your Nightmother?" Now his voice was threatening.