A legendary blacksmith, an Orc by the name "Nodnarb" sets up his shop like any other day, stoking the forge, and arranging the ingots, when a wounded Khajiit sits down in a well-crafted chair by the tanning rack.
Nodnarb: "That's a decent shield." The injured feline lowers his shield. "That's a decent wound as well."
The Injured Khajiit: "What is this book *cough cough*?" There was a book titled "A Dark Covenant" on the table next to the tanning rack.
Nodnarb: "You should give it a read." "Helga, bring a healing potion for our guest." "So, what do they call you?"
The Injured Khajiit: "S'barlo *cough*."
Nodnarb throws a Daedra Heart into the fire as S'barlo picks up the mysterious book. Page after page of a tale that seemed to play at his memories. Many hours pass. A blood-red full moon is uncovered by the clouds. S'barlo slams the book down.
Nodnarb: "How was it?"
S'barlo: "It's you...us...we are the heirs to this evil pact."
Nodnarb laughs as he slams the third set of Daedric Armor down.
Nodnarb: "Are you ready?!"
A Dark Elf, an Orc, and a Khajiit, three ancestors of Macchio, Nodnarb, and S'barlo, respectively, made a deal that would grant them each a plain of Oblivion to rule but they would have to eliminate the fatal limb of the Dark Brotherhood "The Black Hand". Their ancestors all failed to complete this task and the deal became legend which became fable but the deal is still on the table, the blacksmith's table.