Our troubles began with a name. Delilah. A mystery given to Daud by the face he sees in his dreams and whose voice he hears when kneeling at the shrines hidden in the lost parts of the city. None of us have ever heard this voice, but we know its power. It spoke to our master, telling him of his coming doom and saying that solving this riddle was the only way to escape.
We knew nothing of Delilah, except that we found a whaling ship by that name. A tenuous connection, but where the Outsider's word is concerned there are no coincidences. We discovered the ship was named after a woman who once walked the halls of Dunwall Tower with Jessamine Kaldwin. Later she became a painter an apprentice of Sokolov himself until she snared an aristocratic patron named Arnold Timsh.
We met with Timsh's niece, who offered us information on Delilah in exchange for eliminating her uncle. Removing aristocrats was our specialty, so our master agreed. With Barrister Arnold Timsh gone, his niece divulged everything she knew. Delilah was much more than a painter and she was hiding in the old Brigmore Manor outside the city.
But by then we were too late. Delilah anticipated our threat. For some time she had been working her corruptive influence on the best of us: the assassin Billie Lurk. Delilah turned Lurk against us and together they sold us out to the Overseers. When we returned to our hideout in the Flooded District we were swarmed by gold masks and hounds. But Daud is quick and wise in our trade. In the end, he kept us alive, though there were losses.
Now our resources are strained. Some of the men are grumbling. I see the strain on Daud's face. Killing the Empress, handing over her daughter those are not easy burdens to bear. And Lurk's betrayal weighs on him heavily. His sleep is troubled by curses and shouts.
Now we make preparations to strike back at Delilah. She is planning something in Brigmore, something that affects everyone in the Isles. And she will be expecting us. Like our master, she shares her gifts from the Outsider with those who follow her. How many are they, I wonder?
I have no secrets from my master. My loyalty is without question. But I fear these may be the last days of the Whalers. Perhaps the last days of Daud.