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ironwoman359 · 1 year ago

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A Thief's Gamble - Ch.5

The Renegade from Cyrodiil

Previous: Ch.4 - Bedlam and Burglary || Next: Ch.6 - Unhindered Insights Fic Masterpost

Fic Summary: Brynjolf is certain that the only way the Thieves Guild will return to its glory days is by bringing in new, talented members. Unfortunately, Mercer doesn't agree, and it's not like Brynjolf's latest attempts at recruiting have gone well. But when he meets a stranger in the marketplace one morning, he's willing to take the risk and bring her on board....only time will tell if his gamble pays off.

Chapter Summary: Brynjolf learns that Ariene has been hiding who she really is, and he is forced to confront her before she endangers the Guild.

Content: Brynjolf POV, Thieves Guild quest spoilers, game typical violence.

Ships: Brynjolf x Dragonborn OC (slowburn)

Word Count: 3,857

Check the reblogs for a link to read on AO3!

--- --- ---

Sometimes, Brynjolf wondered what his Ma would think of him today.

She’d wanted him to join the merchant’s trade when he was a lad, but he’d refused, complaining that he didn’t want to spend his life stuck behind a desk filling out paperwork and speaking with boring noblemen. He wanted to do something exciting with his life.

He’d always been a schemer, inventing wild tales to scam the other kids out of pocket change and sweets, and as he grew, so did his ambition. His targets grew bigger and his plans became more elaborate, and soon he caught the attention of others who operated on the shadier side of the law. He made some new friends, acquired some new skills, and before he knew it he was being offered a position in the Thieves Guild.

Finally, he had the life he’d always wanted, far away from the daily drudgery of ledgers, bookkeeping, and his Ma’s boring expectations.

Thirty years later, as he sat at his desk keeping books, balancing ledgers, and reading correspondence from boring noblemen, he was certain that she was looking down from Sovngarde and shaking her head at him.

It turned out that running a Guild required just as much paperwork as being a merchant. And while not all of the contacts he kept were boring noblemen, sometimes he thought that actually made things harder.

Merchants didn’t have to encode half their messages to keep the guards from discovering their movements, and shopkeepers didn’t have to keep two sets of ledgers, one with real figures and one with numbers that were faked.

Sometimes, Brynjolf regretted being so eager to prove himself to Gallus and the other higher ups. While he did prove that he was an exceptional thief, he’d also proved that he had a good head for numbers, and more and more of the Guild’s administrative work was passed on to him, especially after Mercer took over the Guild. He still managed to keep his more interesting skills as sharp as his daggers, but there were definitely days when he felt more like a merchant than a thief after all.

Today was one of those days.

He’d been cooped up in the cistern for what felt like ages, reading over reports from his agents across Skyrim. It was important for the Guild to keep a finger on the pulse of what was happening in each hold, and while most of their clients had dried up, Brynjolf had managed to ensure that his contacts still sent him news about any notable changes in the country.

The most concerning news was the rumors of a dragon attack in Helgen. Brynjolf had received reports on what had happened near the southern border, but it had been right before the situation at Goldenglow had escalated, and he hadn’t paid much attention to the rumors. There were, after all, more pressing matters to deal with.

But now it seemed that Helgen really had been destroyed, and that not long after there’d been another attack in Whiterun. Only about a day later, by the accounts he was reading. He was only receiving the report now because his contact had feared traveling across the Rift with dragons on the loose.

Brynjolf wasn’t sure what to make of the idea of dragons. He had initially thought the reports about Helgen were written in some kind of code, but once he’d disproven that theory he’d simply written them off as mere rumors. This latest report from Whiterun implied otherwise though, and Brynjolf couldn't help but think back to the stories his Ma had told him as a boy, about dragons and fire and the end of times.

Still, despite the existential threat that the return of the dragons posed, he found something else in the report from Whiterun to be even more surprising.

He was sitting at his desk, staring down at the letter in disbelief when Delvin walked up to him.

“Brynjolf, you’re never gonna guess who I just got a message from.”

Brynjolf blinked, then shook his head.

“Sorry old man, what was that?”

“You got wax in your ears or somethin’?” Delvin asked. “I said I just got a message in from Whiterun, and you’re never gonna guess from who. Olfrid Battle-Born himself. Says he’s heard we were active in the city again, and that he’s got a job for us. We haven’t had a break like this in months.”

“We haven’t,” Brynjolf muttered, more to himself than to Delvin, and the old man snapped his fingers in front of Brynjolf’s face.

“You awake in there, Bryn? What’s got your head in the clouds?”

Brynjolf just passed the Whiterun report to him, and pointed at the last paragraph that he’d been reading and rereading for the past several minutes.

Delvin huffed, but took the paper and read aloud:

“A final note: word is that you’re making moves in Whiterun again. Be aware that the jarl has appointed a new Thane to his court, an imperial by the name of…Ariene Anneius? It is unknown at this time how amenable she is to persuasion, or whether or not she will seek to take Justice into her own hands. Proceed with caution.”

Delvin lowered the paper and stared at Brynjolf.

“I know,” Brynjolf said, his mouth a grim line as he took the page back.

“Why on earth would a Thane join up with the Guild?” Delvin wondered aloud. “Could she be tryin’ to take us down? Gather evidence against us?”

“I wondered the same thing, but if that were her goal then she’s seen more than enough to incriminate the lot of us. Instead, she just…keeps doing jobs,” Brynjolf said.

“Besides, if a Thane were to try and take us down, why would it be one from Whiterun?” Delvin added. “We haven’t had a strong foothold there in years, and it’s only because of her that our reputation is gettin’ stronger in the first place. Maybe she wants somethin’ from us? A cut of the action in exchange for her silence?”

“Maybe…” Brynjolf trailed off, something Delvin said sticking out in his mind. “Except…wait a moment.”

He pushed a stack of papers aside, digging through the older pile of reports until he found what he was looking for.

“Except she’s not from Whiterun. I knew I’d heard that last name somewhere before. Look,” he said, passing over a crumpled note bearing the Imperial seal.

Delvin took it and read aloud again.

“Wanted: Renegade Imperial Soldier Ariene Anneius. It is believed she is headed for the northern border with Skyrim. Likely armed and dangerous, DO NOT ENGAGE alone. If spotted or captured, inform the nearest Imperial outpost.”

He let out a low whistle and passed the note back to Brynjolf.

“This came in around three weeks ago, but I didn’t give it much attention.” Brynjolf said. “By the time I saw Ariene in the market and offered her a job, I’d already forgotten about it.”

He shook his head in disbelief.

“No wonder she was so nervous about Maven knowing her name. Maven’s ties with the Imperials are well known, if Ariene is on the run from the law in Cyrodiil…” he trailed off as another thought came across his mind. “Hang on. If she’s a wanted renegade, then-”

“How on earth did she end up gettin’ named Thane of Whiterun?” Delvin said, completing Brynjolf’s thought. “Jarl Balgruuf is a man of honor, so much so that it makes things difficult for us on occasion. He wouldn’t just award a wanted criminal the highest position in his court without a damn good reason.”

“Whatever the reason, I don’t think we should send anyone out there to meet Olfrid Battle-Born just yet,” Brynjolf said. “Not until we get some answers.”

Delvin nodded in agreement.

“And how do you intend to get those answers?” he asked and Brynjolf grimaced.

“The only way I can. I’ll have to ask the lass myself.”

— — —

Brynjolf found Ariene in the training room. He stood in the entryway, hovering just out of sight and watching her with renewed curiosity.

She stood in the center of the room, her bow drawn and an arrow knocked at the string. She took a deep breath, then in one smooth motion she lifted the bow up, pulled back the string and fired, not even waiting to see where the arrow landed before reaching back and drawing another. Over and over, she let the arrows fly through the air, her movements quick and fluid and her face a mask of cool concentration.

Brynjolf edged closer, tearing his eyes away from her to look at the targets, each with a mass of arrows clustered around the bullseye. Not a single shot had flown astray, and his mind drifted back to her wanted notice.

Possibly armed and dangerous, DO NOT ENGAGE alone.

“How long are you planning on skulking there in the shadows?”

Brynjolf tensed, but Ariene’s tone was light and playful, and as he turned his attention back to her, he saw her bow was lowered, the quiver empty at her back. She was smiling an easy smile, and Brynjolf took a deep breath.

“How long did you know I was there?” he asked, stepping into the room, and Ariene smirked.

“The whole time. You’re not as stealthy as you think you are, Brynjolf,” she said, and Brynjolf raised an eyebrow.

“Or maybe you’re just more observant than the average mark,” he countered.

Ariene laughed, and Brynjolf found a part of himself wishing that he could just ignore the mysteries of her past and enjoy her company for the sake of it.

But he knew that if he did that, he’d never quite trust the lass again, and that would be far worse in the long run than whatever fallout would come out of this confrontation. Better to face the issue head on while he still had a chance to.

“Got a problem, lass,” he said, forcing his voice to remain even. “Was hoping you could give me a hand.”

“Sure,” Ariene said, stowing her bow over her shoulder and looking at Brynjolf expectantly.

Silently, he pulled the folded wanted slip out of his pocket. He passed the paper over to her, and carefully watched her reaction as she unfolded it. Her shoulders tensed and her eyes darted around the room, lingering for a moment on the daggers on Brynjolf’s belt before settling back on his face.

“The criminal organization have a problem with criminal pasts now?” she asked, a challenge in her tone.

Brynjolf couldn’t help the half smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth at that, and he shook his head.

“No, lass. And I’d be a damn hypocrite if I said otherwise. Your past is your own business, so long as it doesn’t affect the rest of the Guild.”

“So what’s the problem? Have you decided the price on my head is greater than the amount of gold I can make you?”

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Brynjolf said. “You’re not the only member with a bounty, and the Guild never would betray one of our own for coin. The problem is this.”

Brynjolf pulled out the Whiterun report, and Ariene narrowed her eyes. She grabbed the paper and scanned it quickly, and when she looked up, her expression had gone stone cold.

“I still don’t see the issue,” she said evenly, and Brynjolf scoffed.

“Then you’re not as good a thief as I thought you were. We’re all entitled to our fair share of anonymity, but this? This is something I needed to know about, especially before I let you take a job in Whiterun.”

“I don’t owe you an explanation-” Ariene began, but Brynjolf cut her off.

“You don’t owe me an explanation for how or why you’re wanted by the Imperial government. That’s not my business. But secretly being a member of a Jarl’s court? Even if it’s in another hold, that could affect the Guild in any number of ways. And that means that it is my business.”

“You make it sound like it’s some crazy conspiracy,” Ariene growled. “Maybe I just like my privacy.”

“A normal thing for a thief to say; a very odd thing for a Thane to say,” Brynjolf countered.

Ariene glared at him and he tensed, fighting the instinct to reach for his daggers. Her quiver was empty; as deadly as she could apparently be with a bow, the weapon was useless to her now. He glanced quickly at her belt, where her own dagger sat in its sheath. He’d never seen her use the weapon before, and had no idea whether her skill with it matched his own. Even if he couldn’t stop her alone she’d likely be bottlenecked in the cistern, but he’d still prefer to keep his blood inside his body, thank you very much.

Still, Ariene made no move to attack him, or to try and escape. Instead, she folded her arms over her chest and kept her glare trained on him.

“Who says I even wanted to be a Thane?” she demanded. “Why would I come to Riften in the first place, break the law multiple times and crawl through a sewer to join a failing Guild if I was set for life in another hold?”

At that, Brynjolf forgot his apprehension and glared right back at her.

“That,” he said, his voice low. “Is exactly what I’d like to know.”

Ariene sighed and turned away, walking over to the archery targets. She began pulling the arrows free and Brynjolf tensed, but she still made no hostile movements. She stowed the arrows back in her quiver and glanced back at Brynjolf, raising an eyebrow.

“You’re not going to be satisfied until you get an answer, are you?” she asked.

Brynjolf folded his arms.

“I’ve had questions about you since the first day you showed up here,” he admitted. “But there’s a difference between personal curiosity and business. This isn’t about me, lass. It’s about the Guild.”

Ariene leaned up against a bale of hay that one of the targets was standing on and gave him a long look. Silence hung heavy in the air between them, the tension in the room a nearly physical thing before she let out a breath and looked down at her boots.

“Fine. What do you want to know?”

“Why are you here?” Brynjolf said immediately.

“Here in Riften, or here in Skyrim?” she asked, then she shook her head. “No, I suppose that doesn’t matter. The answer is the same either way. I’m running.”

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow at that.

“Running?” he repeated, and Ariene rolled her eyes.

“Well, trying to, anyway. It seems no matter where I run to, I find something else to add to the long list of things I’m running from.”

She looked distant for a moment, and Brynjolf waited for her to continue. After a spell, she shook herself, and held up her wanted page.

“I’ve been on the run from the Imperial Legion for nearly two months. I tried to cross the border into Skyrim a few weeks ago, but I got tangled up in an ambush that the forces here had set for the Stormcloaks. I was captured, and very nearly executed.”

Her expression was casual, but there was a detectable tightness to her voice, and despite everything, Brynjolf couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sympathy for her.

“They execute folks for deserting now?” he asked, and Ariene huffed.

“For deserting, for illegally crossing the border, for what I did before I deserted, maybe for all of it wrapped into one, who knows. It doesn’t matter anyway. I escaped Helgen and-”

“Wait,” Brynjolf interrupted suddenly. “You were at Helgen? When?”

Ariene grimaced.

“If you’re asking that, then you already know the answer.”

“So you saw a-”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Believe it or not, I’d be dead now if it weren’t for that dragon. I was able to slip away during all the confusion, with the help of one of the other prisoners. We laid low with some relatives of his for a day or so, but the price for their hospitality was a message to Jarl Balgruuf about the dragon attack. I took the message to him and was going to just move on, but he offered me a contract to retrieve an item from an old barrow in the mountains. And as much as I didn’t want to waste my time dancing on a jarl’s strings…well, the Imperials took my money, and all my gear. I didn’t really have a choice.”

“You don’t expect me to believe he named you Thane because you ran one job for him,” Brynjolf said, and Ariene rubbed her eyes.

“No. No, he named me Thane because right after I returned from fetching the artifact for his wizard, there was another dragon attack.”

Brynjolf’s eyes widened at the implication.

“Are you saying that…you killed the beast?” he asked in disbelief.

Ariene gave a wry smile.

“Not alone, no. But my contributions to the fight weren’t insignificant. I’m sure you noticed, but I’m a hell of a shot.”

Brynjolf nodded, a smile of his own tugging at the edge of his lips despite himself.

“When the battle was over, my, ah, prowess was noted by the other guards, and that is when Balgruuf named me his Thane. I left the city not long after.”

Brynjolf stared at her, trying to wrap his head around the revelation. He’d assumed the lass was capable in combat– she’d made it out of Goldenglow, after all– but taking down a dragon…that was something else. No wonder the jarl had ignored her criminal past and given her a title. A thought occurred to him then, and his brow furrowed.

“There’s something I still don’t quite understand, lass,” he said. “After all of that, why leave Whiterun at all? Why come here?”

The smile slid from Ariene’s face, and she fiddled with the hilt of the dagger at her hip.

“Whiterun was never my planned destination. And Balgruuf…” she sighed, and a look somewhere between a smile and a grimace crossed her face. “He’s an honorable man, for better or for worse. If an imperial officer tried to capture me there?” she shook her head. “I can’t be certain he’d refuse them.”

“So he doesn’t know about your criminal history?” Brynjolf asked, and Ariene shrugged.

“I’m not sure what exactly he knows, but to be honest, it doesn’t matter. Regardless of whether I’d be safe from arrest there, I’m not too keen on spending the rest of my life carrying out the orders of yet another man who thinks he can use me for his own gain.”

She tilted her chin up and looked straight at Brynjolf.

“Like I said,” she said evenly. “One more thing to run from.”

Brynjolf read the challenge in her eyes, but he held her gaze.

“And that running took you here, of all places,” he said. “Why?”

Ariene raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not as though I planned it. I ended up in Ivarstead, and had no desire to go back around the mountains, so I headed east instead. I’d planned on spending a day or two in town here to scrape up enough money to hire a carriage north, but then–”

“Then I offered you a job,” Brynjolf finished. “At this point I’m surprised you said yes. It sounds like following orders isn’t high on your list of favorite activities.”

“Maybe not,” Ariene admitted. “But you didn’t give me an order, you gave me an offer. One that was my choice to accept. Besides,” she added with a half-smile. “You were right. My pockets were pretty light on coin. And in my experience, larceny is the quickest cure for that particular ailment.”

“Aye,” Brynjolf agreed with a chuckle. “You’re not wrong there, lass.”

There was a beat of silence, and Ariene shifted her weight so that she was no longer leaning against the hay bale.

“So…” she said carefully. “What happens now?”

“Now?” he repeated, and she nodded.

“That’s it. You gonna run me out of the Guild or hand me over to the Imperials now?”

Her voice was light, but she carried a tension in her body like a coiled spring, still ready to run or fight at a moment’s notice. Brynjolf watched her for a long moment, then he shook his head no, and she blinked in surprise.

“I said it before, lass. We don’t turn in our own for gold.”

“But if I lied about my background–”

“Look. The only thing that worried me was the question of your allegiances,” Brynjolf explained. “If what you’ve told me is true, and you joined the Guild because you honestly wanted to, no ulterior motives besides getting rich? Then that’s no longer a concern of mine.”

Ariene nodded slowly.

“My allegiance has always been to myself, first and foremost,” she said. “Never to the law, either in Cyrodiil or Skyrim. But the Guild’s done right by me, which is more than I can say about the Legion, or…anyone else, really. So I intend to keep doing right by the Guild, as long as it’ll still have me.”

Brynjolf inclined his head to her, letting an easy smile slide onto his face.

“And we’ll keep doing right by you, as long as you do the same for us,” he said.

Ariene nodded, then looked at him for a moment, her expression thoughtful.

“There’s more you want to know, isn’t there.”

It was not a question, but a statement; one they both knew was true. Brynjolf’s mind was turning over all the information she’d given him, throwing up dozens of questions in response.

Why had Ariene fled to Skyrim after deserting? What had she done that made the Imperials so determined to hunt her down? Hell, why had she, who bristled at authority and walked her own path wherever she went, joined the Legion in the first place? What was she– someone who could hold her own in a fight against two dozen men and take down a dragon– really running from?

Each question fought to jump forward to the tip of his tongue, but Brynjolf pushed them all down with another smile.

“Like I said, lass. This isn't about me. Unless there’s something else that would affect the Guild, there’s nothing more you need to tell me.”

“That,” said Ariene, giving him a pointed look, “was not a no.”

“Aye, it wasn’t,” Brynjolf agreed with a chuckle. “Sharp as ever, aren’t you lass? But I meant it. Your business is your own, and my curiosity is mine. You’re under no obligation to satisfy it.”

Ariene regarded him for a moment, then a smile– small and more than a little cautious but there nonetheless– spread across her face and the tension finally bled out of her posture.

“Well,” she said. “Maybe one of these days, I’ll tell you the rest of the story…if you don’t mind telling me a story or two about yourself in return?”

Brynjolf grinned.

“You know lass? I don’t think I’d mind that at all.”

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Previous: Ch.4 - Bedlam and Burglary || Next: Ch.6 - Unhindered Insights

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter took awhile! Things have been busy at work and I haven't had a lot of energy lately, BUT I'm back at it and more excited than ever about where this story is going! Hope you enjoyed a peek at our Dragonborn's backstory! Please reblog if you liked it, it'd mean a lot to me! <3

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superchat · 1 year ago

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i kinda wanna talk abt my base setup in arknights cuz i have a very specific rotation in it that i like

i have three level 1 factories always working on battle records and i always trying to have ashlock, fartooth, and wild mane in them as much as possible. when they run out of moral they go to level 5 dorm with nightingale (along with whoevers at the office. either penance or eyjafjalla) and pallas, FEater, and someone else (shirayuki, frostleaf, or vigna) takes their place

these three ops specifically cuz my command center always has flametail in it, with the entire RS6 cast, she literally never loses moral and she boosts pinus ops (lol) skills

the other factories run on a rotation of absestos+popukar+scene (i like their colors together and their skills seem like a good combo), gravel+haze+vanilla, dorothy+silence+ptolipsis (i get weird and swap out silence or ptolipsis with perfumer cuz theyre all three a team in my eyes and i feel bad leaving perfumer alone 😣), and fang+kroos+beagle (theyre a team...)

Clue search swaps between projekt red+astesia and kazemaru, this works out cuz since dorm 5 always has nightingale taking up a slot, and my command center never needs rotating ops, kazemaru leaving an empty slot in clue search means i can fully rotate my entire base ops without leaving anyone out. it works out rlly nice actually

Level 2 trading post swaps between shamare+proviso and gummy+tuye, level 3 swaps between texas+lappland+exusiai and tequila+kafka+bibeak

Factories are whatevers highest efficiency which is lava alter, goldenglow, greyy, and whoever i want to be next, usually indigo cuz shes cool

#arknights

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dsknsk · 1 year ago

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it's wild GaviAlter skin is downright ugly but the Goldenglow skin is really nice she also doesn't close her eyes anymore in S3 so that's cool too

#arknights

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thegreatyin · 2 years ago

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today i learned that apparently 1) you can get an unreleased operator from integrated strategies random support unit recruitments and 2) i just got her this morning and used her to get all the way to just before crying over spilled milk, completely unaware she wasn't actually out on global

#yin-thoughts #arknights #it's quercus btw. she was useful #apparently goldenglow herself can also show up? fucking wild

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rev-levitz · 2 years ago

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It's absolutely wild that the infected in Victoria are fighting to Industrial Revolution Era protections

What isn't wild is the guy accosting Goldenglow on the street isn't Liberi, or Draco. He's just British.

#arknights #im late to the stories this event but damn

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hinterland-clans · 2 years ago

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Redid the theme songs post because the other one got so mixed up and i can't fix it and it bothers me a LOT lmao. anyways yeah some of them have been updated, list is under the cut because it's pretty long

GlenClan

Sandstar: Rio Grande- The Oh Hellos Wolfshadow: Oliver James- Fleet Foxes Flurryfeather: Zephyrus- The Oh Hellos Larkslip: Gypsy- Fleetwood Mac/Wait By The River- Lord Huron Applepatch: Lost- Amanda Palmer Oakfire: Elmleaf: To Be Alone- Hozier Russetmoon: I Think Your Nose Is Bleeding- The Front Bottoms Berrysplash: Blindsided- Bon Iver Foxtuft: Summertime- My Chemical Romance Sunblaze: Lakeripple: Silverbird: Laments of a Mattress- Hop Along, Queen Ansleis Greenshade: When You Grow Up, Your Heart Dies- Gunship/ Soldier, Poet, King- The Oh Hellos Duskfur: Wrecking Ball- Mother Mother/Poor George- James Supercave Jaystorm: Sirens- Hop Along, Queen Ansleis/Home- Gabrielle Aplin Lilystream: Anemone- Slenderbodies Bobtail: Kids Again- Artist vs. Poet Harepelt: Everything Is Alright- Motion City Soundtrack Acornshine: Girls Like Girls- Hayley Kiyoko Cloudfall: Hawktalon: Eat You Alive- The Oh Hellos Goldenglow: Oliver James- Fleet Foxes Icegaze: Fourth of July- Sufjan Stevens/Boreas- The Oh Hellos Rainmist: Maybe We’re Meant To Be Alone- Bad Suns Echocall: Georgia- Phoebe Bridgers Tuftear: Old Now- Rosemary & Garlic Sparrowscreech: Indica- Foxing Badgerface: Thrushsong: All I Want- Kodaline

Hickorystar: Cold- Novo Amor

PineClan

Rosestar: Passerine- The Oh Hellos / American Money- BORNS Hollyfrost: Sunlight- Hozier Fawnstreak: Breakers- Local Natives Coppershade: Phantom- Of Monsters And Men Ryeberry: Me And My Husband- Mitski Thicketburr: All Things Devour- aeseases Heronstalk: Brackenroot: Blazeflower: Heather- Conan Gray/Strawberry Blonde- Mitski Cloverlight: Could This Be Another Change?- The Samples Cindershock: No Children- The Mountain Goats/Cops and Robbers- The Hoosiers Tangleswirl: Holy The Sea- Forgive Durden/Arsonist’s Lullaby- Hozier Splinterfang: Be Nice To Me- The Front Bottoms/Settle Down- The 1975 Robindown: Tumbleflight: Fleetfox: Famous Last Words- My Chemical Romance/Stray Italian Greyhound- Vienna Teng Littlehawk: Swiftclaw: Wish You Were Here- Florence + The Machine/Nests- Keaton Henson Shimmertail: Son Of A Gun- Lord Huron Nitfeather: All of Me Wants All of You- Sufjan Stevens Bouncefoot: Between Days- Far Caspian Quickwhisper: Mintmoth: Cleopatra- the Lumineers Longear: On A Good Day- Robin Pecknold Ruepetal: Holy Branches- Radical Face

Strikenose: Dear Wormwood- The Oh Hellos/Candles- Daughter Galerush: The Love Club- Lorde Driftrunner: Devil Town- Cavetown Dawnsong: Bloomheart:

RiftClan

Screestar: Rut- The Killers Slatesun: For Sebastian From A Friend- Hop Along, Queen Ansleis Halfskip: Healer’s Dilemma- Mercedes Lackey Fernsplash: Kiss Goodnight- IDKHOW Snowspiral: Slow and Steady- Of Monsters And Men Smokestorm: Torches- The Oh Hellos Darkeyes: Street Fight- Adam Jensen Flintclaw: Any Emotion- Mini Mansions Aspenfleck: Bugbear- Chloe Moriondo Birdpounce: Pheasantruff: Looking Like This- Lyre Le Temps Brightnose: Rounds- The Oh Hellos Puddlepelt: Rose- The Oh Hellos Flamewisp: Community Gardens- The Scary Jokes / Sin Triangle- Sidney Gish Grassripple: No Light, No Light- Florence + The Machine Oceanroar: Fine, Great- Modern Baseball Minksnap: Eugene- Sufjan Stevens Whiskertail: Running With The Wolves (Wolfwalkers version)- AURORA Meadowmoth: Wild Roses- Of Monsters And Men Cavernpool: Any Emotion- Mini Mansions Dustplume: Blizzardfur: Batswoop:

Dovesky: Tilikum- Benjamin Francis Leftwich/Repeat Until Death- Novo Amor

Rubblecloud: Kitehop: Peakstream: Hailfur: Conifertuft: Bluemeadow:

Tempest Rogues

Sheen: Everything Moves- Bronze Radio Return / Land Of All- Woodkid Dusty: Perry: Bee: Snicker: Rudy: Clover: Honeyglow: Honeypie- Jawny

North Face Loners

Night: Sirens- Hop Along, Queen Ansleis Thorn: Time To Run- Lord Huron Fox: Hazel: Trees- The Oh Hellos Tacker:

Icewhisper: Curses- The Crane Wives/Kin- Radical Face

Wildland Loners

Whiskey: Skittles: Dolly: Weasel: Woodruff: Bushy: Skyler: This Must Be The Place- dad sports

Kittypets

Thor: Dexter: Snufkin: Jade (Jadewing): Strawberry Blonde- Mitski Beamer: Blitz: Katria:

Founders

Sorrelstar: Thus Always To Tyrants- The Oh Hellos/North- Sleeping At Last Asterheart: Sunflower/Thunder Mashup Oriole: Aspenstar: King- Florence + The Machine Chatterstone: Soap- The Oh Hellos Crowmask: The Moon Will Sing- The Crane Wives Shardstar: From Finner, Mountain Sound- Of Monsters And Men Spiderleap: Constellations- The Oh Hellos

Dark Forest Cats

Dawnshatter: Choke- IDKHOW Barkfang: Along Came A Spider- Tesco Value Sparkflame: Chillyfur: Mama Hates You- Ck9c Silverpine: Heart Of Glass- Mini Mansions/ Setting Sun- Lord Huron Bramblewasp: Sunshine- the Phantoms/Bad Bad Things- AJJ Tawnyfoot: Vinestar: Absinthe- IDKHOW Quietstar: Catabolic Seed- The Scary Jokes / Twenty Long Years- Lord Huron Twilightpaw: Cain- Cousin Marnie/Evelyn Evelyn- Evelyn Evelyn Blackflame: Przeklenstwo Milleheaven- Katarzyna Groniec / Honey, I'm Home- Ghost & Pals Starklight: Oleander- Mother Mother

#warriors #warrior cats #warrior cats ocs #lore #glenclan #pineclan #riftclan #the tempest rogues #north face loners #wildland loners #clan founders #dark forest #kittypet #loners

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koeiasequoia · 5 years ago

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Hey, Luka! So how's life at the thieves' guild now that you're in charge? What's the toughest place you ever broke into? What's the one place you refuse to rob aside from the Riften tavern? Whatcha do when you're not doing work for the guild?

If I’m bein honest? Kinda a headache right now. There’s just, so much that needs doing right now. Gotta deal with the influx of new members, sort out all the new clients and jobs, there’s the hassle of setting up four new Guild headquarters in the other four major Holds, so, things are hectic right now. But despite all that, I wouldn’t trade this headache for anything, it means we’re moving and growing, things are goin good, I don’t know if Nocturnal was just really impressed, or if the shadows were sick of bein cooped up for so long, but damn we’ve all just been bringin in tons of cash and valuables recently, Bryn swears up and down this is the best he’s seen us do in a long time, and I plan on carrying that good fortune for a long time.

Toughest place huh? Well two come to mind, the first being Goldenglow, now at this point, Goldenglow would be nothing too impressive, but as far as I can remember, I started on the thieves path the same day they asked me to break into that estate. So needless to say, I was a bundle of nervous energy, accidentally knocked Aringoth out the second he started talking haha! Second place, second place is the Thalmor Embassy. I know, I know, I’ve gotta be insane for breaking into a Thalmor controlled place, especially the one where their leader lives, but they had one of Barenziah’s crown jewels! I wasn’t just gonna abandon my pet project! In the end I did manage to get the jewel and get out safely, but I was triple checking my surroundings the whole time, no way I wanna deal with them again.

Well the Black-Briar’s for one, but that’s a given since we’re... business partners? Yeah business partners. Other than that though, there is this one pair of brothers, one’s a vampire, pretty sure the other’s a werewolf, I do my best not to take their stuff, though that doesn’t mean I don’t take a peek every now and again.

Well I suppose there’s a few things, I’m likely to be tending to one of my gardens, got one at the Riften house and another in Falkreath and oh! You would not believe the variety of flowers I have growing! Might also be catching up on my godsdamned sleep I have been up SO MUCH recently, you have NO idea. Beyond those two, you might just find me out in the wild, exploring, there’s a lot I haven’t seen, or at least, a lot I don’t remember having seen, anyways. But like I said, you might just find me on the road, lots of crypts and ruins to loot after all!

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tastesoftamriel · 6 years ago

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Letter to Talviel, including Rondilwe Andrethi's recipe for Collops

My dear Talviel,

I pray you are keeping well over these last few months, the weather has been dreadfully morose these last few weeks here in Ivarstead. Though that hassle with the barrow has been long resolved (thanks in no doubt to your own efforts- for which we are eternally grateful!), business is painfully slow to return to Ivarstead. My beloved Talvus maintains the view that it would be quicker to render tallow fat from Kwama Cuttle for use as candles than to expect business to pick up again. I am loathe to agree with him, though it saddens me to see our stock of soaps lying undisturbed in bulk. This is not to say that we are not selling any soaps, however! We regularly trade our wares with the locals in Ivarstead for whatever things we cannot afford, and Barknar often trades in the game and pelts for a bar or two of our soaps- he particularly likes the ones that we make with Honey and Lavender, though he says that he has had a lot of close encounters with bears whenever he has used our Juniper Berry Soap. I myself wonder why this is, as I would’ve assumed that the Bears would favour the honey scented soap, though seeing as we get the honey from the Goldenglow Estate, perhaps it says more about the state of the apiaries and the quality of the honey from there, more than it says about the Bears, though I fervently pray you do not let any of what I have written get to Maven Blackbriar. It is bad enough that my Husband Talvus is distrusted whenever he returns to visit his family in the Grey Quarter, I regularly get ‘short shrift’ from Nords, and even the occasional Redguard by dint of having been born an Altmer. We do not desire to draw Maven’s gaze towards us in any way that is not to our benefit.

I want to get to the meat of the letter, if you’ll excuse the poor choice of wordplay there, which is my main reason for writing and put thoughts of Maven Blackbriar out of my head. I recall that the last time that you visited our house, you wanted to have the recipe for the Collops that you had. They are quite simple to make and prepare. Though Collops can be made with any meat, the ones that you had were made with beef. These can be any cut of the cow, however I have found that I prefer the flank cut, whereas Talvus likes the sirloin cut. Overall, this can take up to about half an hour to cook, though preparing everything may take longer. These are then prepared by cutting grooves into the meat- both lengthways and longways so that it crosshatches yet does not entirely pierce through the meat. This is to both tenderise the meat, as well as allow the meat more surface area to absorb the flavours of the dredge once it is covered. Once the meat is prepared, you should continue to the dredge, which is prepared in a bowl of four egg yolks, melted butter, some salt, and some nutmeg. I do realise nutmeg may be difficult to acquire at the best of times, though I do like to keep a small stock of nutmeg behind for special occasions, even if I do tend to use it fairly quickly. Once the dredge is mixed together, place the grooved cuts of the meat into the egg mixture. Once these are liberally covered with the mixture, cover them in flour. These are then fried in a pan. I’ve found that they taste better if you fry them with butter instead of oil, however that could be my own personal taste. Don’t let my preferences prevent you from experimenting!

Once the meat is half towards cooked, add gravy and sliced mushrooms, to brown into the pan alongside the frying cuts. The gravy can be made from whatever is left over from a previous meal- as I recall, the Collops that you had were made from soup bones, with carrots, celery, onions, and had parsnip chunks alongside.

A peculiar quirk that I have seen from some Imperials that have devised their own takes on this recipe, is that they add a slice of bitter orange to squeeze onto the collops, however I personally don’t hold much stock in it as I can never find bitter oranges- as the trend for orange farmers tend to focus on sweeter oranges which will sell more lucratively.

I hope this recipe reaches you well, and I have enclosed two bars of the juniper berry soap alongside this letter, though I would suggest you try not to use it in the wilds so that it may save any bears that come sniffing from you.

Your Dear Friend,

Rondilwe Andrethi

Postscript - If you could be so kind to tell Rune that the next time he visits, if he could keep the noise down if he insists on drinking late at night with Talvus. It kept me up until the dawn hours, with Talvus drunkenly singing about the crude one about the Telvanni Wizard.

P.P.S - Talvus here. Tell Rune he still owe me ten septims and a bottle of mazte for betting that I couldn’t forge a letter from the Synod Grand Council for that delve job in Cyrodiil a while back.

P.P.P.S - Ronnie says that Rune also forgot a hot sword that he left here a while back, and that if he doesn’t pick it up by the end of the year she’ll destroy it. She’s probably bluffing, but there’s only so many places we can safely hide such a unique sword, considering we have no talent for blades and though we are retired actors, we can only bluff about it so often to visitors of a curious and learned nature before suspicions are raised.

- Shadow keep you, Talvus Andrethi

#thank you!#recipe #submission #collops #oc #talvus andrethi #rondilwe andrethi #Morianrhod

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rjalker · 6 years ago

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Thre Recruit

The Recruit

Created on 4/13/2014

Brynjolf stared down at the report in dismay.

Barely three minutes after the burning hives and missing gold had been discovered...

He sighed, and rubbed a calloused hand across his face, closing his eyes.

She'd had so much potential.

He'd really thought that the Guild had finally found the break it had been looking for. Had it been anyone else, that trick with Madesi would have fallen through faster than Skeever droppings in the wine at a fancy party. But the lass had pulled it off without a hitch. For a moment there, he'd been sure she'd gotten caught, when Bran-Shei turned to look at her, but she'd apologized, as though she'd bumped into him by accident, and in that moment his sharp eyes had caught her slipping the ring into his pocket even as the dark elf turned his attention back to him with a small smile.

He'd been sure that she was the thing their Guild had been waiting for.

But now...

Now that just wasn't going to happen.

In his hands, the report of the werewolf attack at Goldenglow Estate crumbled into a ball.

Because everything within a five mile radius of the estate had been slaughtered. Blood had rolled in little streams down the cobblestone paths, the life force of man, beast, and animal alike all mixing together into a stream of infinite darkness.

The walls inside the house were splashed with red, and the porter who had reported all of this to the city guards—he'd been there to deliver the food stores that had been purchased the day before—told that everywhere he looked, there was nothing but death.

He had arrived just moments after the slaughter, and before he'd even seen the first mercenary—still down the path a ways—a howl more terrible and deep and wild than anything he had ever heard had torn through the air, sending his horse rearing up and screaming in terror and almost throwing him clean off, before it bolted back down the way they'd come. He'd made no move to stop it, and clung on for dear life, sure that the beast would be upon their heels at any seconds. He didn't need to pause to think about the situation. A werewolf pack had attacked his village when he was a child. He knew that howl, and he knew what it meant.

And for a moment—just for a moment—his heart had stopped within his chest as he leaned over the mare's neck, because just for a moment, out of the corner of his eye—

—He'd seen it.

Racing next to him on the path, loping on all fours more like a beast than a man, the moment frozen in slow motion by his heart's terror, every detail sharp for his eyes to catch. Its muzzle thicker and its head longer than any natural wolf's, its ears almost like those of an ass, but for that they ended in points, deep black, impossibly dark fur stretched across skin as grey as clouds threatening rain, and all of this wrapped around a small, golden orange eye with pupils darker than night, and a powerful jaw filled with razor teeth that he knew—he knew—would have no trouble at all breaking his neck in an instant.

And as he'd watched—in horror, his horse beating her hooves into the ground faster than she'd ever run before, her panicked breathing heavy and loud in the air, but not loud enough to drown out the harsh breathing of the beast, starting to veer them to the side and away from the thing they could never hope to outrun—its outline had started to blur, and a shadow that was almost silver had seemed to leap away from its skin, hovering just a few inches over the tips of its fur, an exact copy of the beast moving beneath it, like a light thrown from within, flickering and wavering like moonlight itself, and growing in intensity until he could see every spark of detail in the creature's body—the red of the blood that soaked its fur and skin, the black ichor that oozed like something vile from several shallow wounds, the arrow shaft that stuck from the loose skin at the back of its neck—before, as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished in a wink of light.

Not even a moment later, the werewolf's amber eye darted upward to stare directly into the porter's, and its horrible mouth twisted into a purposeful grin, baring every last canine in a fierce display of its power. It gave a single, short snarling bark that the man would later swear up and down was a laugh, then swung its head toward the right, toward the trees, and leapt away from the man and his horse, disappearing into the darkening shadows with one last, low to the ground howl that raised the hair on the backs of his arms and sent shivers down his spine even as his horse continued its frantic charge across the ground.

They were in the woods themselves at that point, and the man wasted no time in reigning in his terror, and the panic of his horse, setting them straight on the path again, with directed movement this time, frantic to reach the safety of the guard's patrol reach as quickly as possible.

Not even a few hours after the terrified porter and his horse had arrived at the town's main gates, reports from the patrolling guards started flooding in, of slaughtered deer, frostbite spiders, even bears and a stray sabre cat. Trees had been smashed to pieces, and deep claw marks scared the surfaces of those too old to be rent from the ground.

And Brynjolf had sent that woman right out into the middle of the slaughter. She'd even managed to complete the mission. Three hives burnt, and no more, the safe cleaned out so that not even spiders would find a place to weave their nests...

...And it had cost her her life.

And it was all his fault.

The drip of the cistern in his ears even through the thick stone walls, he allowed his body to slump under the weight of his guilt, and fell back across the straw-stuffed furs of his bed, the now-crumpled report of the werewolf attack slipping from the fingers he held over the side of the bed and onto the floor.

He was a thief by trade. A conman by all rights. A scoundrel, a criminal. Guilt wasn't his burden to bear. The weakness of that emotion was reserved for the high-moraled folk who had never had to fight a day for anything in their lives alone. He couldn't afford to feel anything other than glee when he stole a man's coin purse, or an expensive necklace from a woman's throat. He had to steal, or he didn't get to stay alive any longer. It wasn't a choice. It was fact.

But now...

His free hand slammed itself into the stone of the wall, striking pain against his knuckles. He growled softly in the back of his throat, and rolled onto his side so that his face was only a few inches away from the cold stone, his back to the small, crowded space that was his bedroom.

Pulling one of the thin furs up and over his shoulder, he glared at the faded brown stones for a moment, then resolutely shut his eyes, pushing the squirming guilt in his heart to the back of his mind. He had a Guild to run. He couldn't afford to waste sleep over something as insignificant as lost potential.

Folding one arm under his head and pressing the fingers of his free hand into the stone of the wall until the bits of stone were digging into his skin, Brynjolf swore to himself that next time, he would make sure he didn't get attached to new recruits. Enough people had already died that he didn't even know why he needed to remind himself.

Brynjolf had trained himself years ago to sleep whenever he could find it. That night was no different, and within minutes of willing setting his head down, he was deeply, fast asleep, his dreams plagued by visions of teeth flashing in the darkness, and a howl that sent shivers rolling up his spin even in the waking world.

The next day, the Bosmer woman walked into the Cistern as though nothing had happened. Her armour was flecked with blood, and her eyes had a wild look about them, a ragged burn marred one of her arms, and the war tattoos she had across her face were almost impossible to see for the soot and ash that covered her skin. She limped slightly with one leg, but none of her wounds appeared to be serious. The other guild members greeted her as they normally did, without concern, none of them the wiser as to the horror she'd survived.

News traveled fast, and they were all aware of the slaughter that had happened at Goldenglow, but most of them were unconcerned with the newer recruits until they'd proved themselves worthy of attention. None of them knew that the woman limping past them with a nervous look in her eye had survived a horror that even the most seasoned warriors would quail at. Brynjolf had never seen a werewolf attack himself, but the stories were graphic and detailed and terrifying.

And here was this woman, as far from a Nord as possible, and elven in every way-the slim musles of her arms and legs that by the look of them would hardly be able to lift the lightest of loads, her tall stature that somehow made her seem even smaller, the way she shivered even in the barely noticeable chill of the Cistern, the heavy furs she wore to fend off the cold of Skyrim's summer months...

And she had managed to survive what over a hundred trained and powerful Nord mercenaries had not. Brynjolf's imagination was already racing forward, cataloguing her wounds, and the ash that covered her skin, far too miuch for her to have gotten from just setting the hives ablaze. As she limped ever closer, nervously waving away his colleague's attention, as though afraid for them to look at her, the acrid smell of smoke grew ever stronger. She was reeking of it.

She paused a few paces away, leaning heavily against a table to take the weight off her wounded leg-the left one, he saw-and giving him a chance to study her more closely.

#I'M TOO LAZY TO FINISH THIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#Skyrim

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fan-burns · 3 years ago

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Short Skyrim Story Time!

Thought I’d spice things up a bit on the blog, lol. I’ll definitely be doing more of these, but for now, here’s the most recent one I’ve experienced. Let me know if you’d ever have this happen!

So I decided to replay Skyrim after 2 or 3 years after I completed it with my khajiit character. I went with a High elf character named Mimir since I wanted to a mage warrior build this time. He’s also infected with vampirism by Alva as part of his backstory, (this detail will be important later). It’s also worth noting that I’ve only encountered 1 dragon in the wild, not counting the Whiterun watchtower dragon near the start of the main quest.

Anyways, I was on my way to Goldenglow Estate for the Thieves Guild quest line. My character was level 11, so I knew I had to play it smart since I’m familiar with how tough the mercenaries inside are. As I was swimming to the island thinking of a plan, all I hear is this loud roar, blaring battle music and a fucking dragon appears. A fire breathing dragon.

Que me panic swimming looking for a way inside while trying not to die to underwater fire dragon breath. My first thought was to lure it to the island so it could kill the mercenaries for me, and that’s what I did after struggling to survive. So, to recount, we now have a fire breathing dragon, a bunch of hired mercenaries trying to kill said dragon, and then you have a vampire running around setting the bees on fire.

To my surprise, the plan worked pretty well, and I was able to get in. The mercenaries were pretty easy to take care of surprisingly. The dragon and the mercenaries were gone by the time I was outside, so I just sprinted to a nearby mill and fast traveled away!

This wasn’t the first time a dragon showed up at a weird time, and I doubt it’ll be the last. Least now Mimir gets to share his tale over at the Thieves Guild!

#Skyrim story #Skyrim

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plutojones · 4 years ago

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Chapter Seven: Dampened Spirits

Andie makes her way to the second floor of the Bee and Barb, to the secluded table and chairs where an older woman with black hair similar to her own waits. The woman looks up with a judgmental gaze, looking Andie up and down.

“So you're the one. Hmm. You don't look so impressive.”

Andie stops in her tracks and just raises an eyebrow at Maven. “Well then, why don’t we skip pleasantries all together and get to the point?”

A temporary smirk crosses Maven’s face. “You're a firebrand, aren't you? It's about time Brynjolf sent me someone with business sense. I was beginning to think he was running some sort of beggar's guild over there.”

“You’ve no faith in the guild? Even after the Goldenglow job?”

“Faith? I don't have faith in anyone. All I care about is cause and effect. Did the job get done and was it done correctly. There's no gray area.”

“Whatever the details, I’ll get them done.”

“I hope so. This is an important job. I have a competitor called Honningbrew Meadery that I want to put out of business. I also want to know how they managed to get the place up and running so quickly.” She pauses a beat. “One more time in case I wasn't clear. You butcher this job and you'll be sorry.”

Andie gives her the most forced smile she’s ever made in her whole life. “Crystal. May I ask you a few questions before I go?”

“Fine.”

“How exactly did you become allied with the Thieves Guild?”

“The Black-Briar family has always been allied with the Guild. Our connections with the Empire and within Skyrim make for a perfect fit. I dare say the Guild owes its survival as much to my family as it does to its own people.”

“Who runs the show at Honningbrew Meadery?”

“Some layabout called Sabjorn. Been a thorn in my side for the last few years now.” She sighs and picks up the wine glass on the table.

“Sabjorn sounds like more than just friendly competition.”

“Not a day goes by that I don't regret letting Sabjorn get as far as he did. In only a few short years, he's taken that bile he calls mead to market and a chunk of my profits with it! I can't imagine where he found the gold to take it to market so quickly.”

“So get rid of him and he's no longer a threat.”

“Exactly. With Sabjorn in prison, his meadery will be forced to close. Then I swoop in and take over the place. No more competition.”

“Why strike now?”

“The Goldenglow Estate job undoubtedly interrupted the supply of honey I need to make my mead. Sabjorn could use this interruption to his advantage and collect a larger share of the market. I can't have that.”

“Understood. I’ll be one my way.” Andie turns to leave and makes her way out before allowing Maven a chance to get the last word.

Whiterun. The place of her first real job for the guild. She had been here a few times since then, of course, a few other odd jobs here and there. Still, it was always a reminder of how far she had come in the past few weeks. She didn’t mind the travel. It was nice to get fresh air, see new sights. Still, she missed the guild. She missed those rare evenings of song and dance, ale and meat. But most of all, she missed the quiet moment after the celebrations. The ones where she and Brynjolf would sit next to each other off to the side in the shadows, watching everyone else, silently enjoying each other's company. He had quickly become a comfort and a confidant to her. Someone she felt she could rely on.

The carriage slowly came to a halt at a crossroads in front of the great city at Dragonsreach. Hopping out, she gave the driver a tip before making her way past the city walls to the tavern. Finding her way there was easy, she’d been there many times before. With a nod to the owner, she turned towards the kitchen, looking for the one called Mallus. A pale man with deep, dark circles under his eyes, he looked up at her with an expression of annoyance.

“Can't a man drink in peace?”

“Maven said you're expecting me.” Andie crossed her arms, still standing above the seated man.

“I'm going to keep this short 'cause we've got a lot to do. Honningbrew's owner, Sabjorn, is about to hold a tasting for Whiterun's Captain of the Guard and we're going to poison the mead.”

“You have the poison?”

“No, no. That's the beauty of the whole plan. We're going to get Sabjorn to give it to us. The meadery has quite a pest problem and the whole city knows about it. Pest poison and mead don't mix well, you know what I mean?”

“Where do I fit in?”

Mallus smirks. “You're going to happen by and lend poor old Sabjorn a helping hand. He's going to give you the poison to use on the pests, but you're also going to dump it into the brewing vat.”

“Heh. Clever.”

“Maven and I spent weeks planning this. All we need is someone like you to get in there and get it done. Now get going before Sabjorn grows a brain and hires someone else to do the dirty work.”

“How do I get to the brewing vats?”

“Both of the buildings are connected by tunnels made by the pests infesting the meadery. There's an entrance to it in the basement storeroom of the warehouse that used to be boarded over. I've already removed the boards so the meadery would get infested. That's where you should start.”

“What about just going in through the brewery?”

“Sabjorn keeps that locked up tight. If you can get through that way, go right ahead.”

“Why are you doing all this? I know what Maven wants, but what about you?”

“I made the mistake of borrowing coin from Sabjorn. He's allowing me to pay it back, but he's working my fingers to the bone! He treats me like a slave... I have to do every nasty, dirty job in the meadery.” At that Andie rolls her eyes. Probably an exaggeration.

“There's more to this than a debt, isn't there?”

“If this plan works, not only is my debt gone, but I'll be set up for life. Maven and I worked out a little deal. If Sabjorn ends up in jail, she's going to take over his meadery. And guess who gets to run the Black-Briar Meadery in Whiterun? You're looking at him.”

“Why bother poisoning the nest for Sabjorn?”

“Once Sabjorn is out of the way, Maven has plans for this place. One way or another, we don't want the pests coming back. Consider it just more of the dirty work. I did my part getting them in there, now you need to clear them out.”

“Fine. I’ll be on my way then.”

“Remember, Sabjorn will be needing a helping hand. Make it look good.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” She waves him off as she makes her way back out the tavern and into the streets of Whiterun. Making her way back out the gates, she takes in a deep breath as she walks out towards the large brewery near the windmills surrounding the city. As she enters the building, she puts on a warm, helping smile.

Immediately she’s met with a hostile glare from a scowling older man.

“What are you gawking at? Can't you see I have problems here?”

Andie blinks for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Is something wrong?”

“Are you kidding me? Look at this place. I'm supposed to be holding a tasting of the new Honningbrew Reserve for the Captain of the Guard. If he sees the meadery in this state, I'll be ruined.”

“Well, I’d be willing to help.”

“Oh really? And I don't suppose you'd just do it out of the kindness of your heart, would you? I hope you're not expecting to get paid until the job's done.”

“Well you’d better, or I yell ‘skeevers’.” Those once warm eyes flash cold once more as the smile drops and her expression turns serious.

“Okay, okay. No need to make rash decisions. Here's half. You get the rest when the job's done. My only demand is that these vermin are permanently eliminated before my reputation is completely destroyed.”

“How do I "permanently" clear the vermin?”

“I bought some poison. I was going to have my lazy, good-for-nothing assistant Mallus handle it, but he seems to have vanished. If you plant this in the vermin's nest, it should stop them from ever coming back.” He huffs and crosses his arms after handing her the poison.

“Who’s Mallus?”

“Mallus is the best deal I've ever made. Lent him a bit of gold some time ago I knew he'd never be able to pay back. Nothing like free labor to make operating costs cheaper.”

Oh. So it wasn’t an exaggeration. Okay then. Fuck this guy.

“I’ll get going.”

“Don’t come back till you’re done!” He shouts as she walks further into the brewery.

Andie enters into the basement of the building and finds the hole leading into the underground. Ahead she hears the skittering of skeevers, indicating to her it was time to pull out the good ol’ bow and arrow. With a deep breath she lowers herself towards the ground and begins sneaking down the tunnel, arrow at the ready. Here in the darkness, the shadows wrap around her, hiding her from the gaze of the pests. One arrow, two arrows, three. She watches the skeevers fall one at a time to each of her arrows. She collects what arrows are still intact and continues on her way down the tunnel. After a while, and many skeevers, sees a small light up ahead, and the figure of a man. She furrows her brow in confusion but continues to sneak up regardless. Standing no more than a few feet from him she slowly stands up.

“H-hello?”

“Huh? Who’s there?!” He spins around with a wild look in his eye and immediately screams when he sees her, casting a spell that she just barely dodges.

“Shit!” She drops the bow and pulls out her daggers, rushing forward and slashing him once with each. The first catches him off guard, and the second silences him for good.

Andie takes a deep breath, letting his body fall to the ground as she steps back. She stands there staring at him before spotting the nest out of the corner of her eyes. Mindlessly, she takes some of the poison and sets it in the nest. With one last look at the madman, she continues down the tunnel until she makes it to the brewery. Finding her way in, and alone, she climbs up to the second floor, dumps the rest of the poison into one of the vats, and then climbs back down. She lets herself out of the brewery and back towards the front door that leads to the bar area.

Entering in she can see Mallus, Sabjorn, and another fellow: most likely this captain fellow. She approaches Sabjorn and holds out the empty vial.

“Job’s finished.”

“Well it's about time! I had to stall the captain until you were finished.”

“Well? Where’s the rest of my pay?” She holds out her hand.

“You'll just have to wait until after the captain's finished. I suppose you can wait around if you must.” He shoos her off and makes his way over to the captain. With a roll of her eyes, she shares a glance with Mallus before taking a seat nearby.

“Well, Sabjorn. Now that you've taken care of your little pest problem, how about I get a taste of some of your mead?”

“Help yourself, milord. It's my finest brew yet... I call it Honningbrew Reserve. I think you'll find it quite pleasing to your palate.”

“Oh come now, this is mead... not some wine to be sipped and savored.” He takes a sip of the drink and immediately starts spitting it out. “By the Eight?! What... what's in this?”

“I... I don't know. What's wrong?”

“You assured me this place was clean! I'll see... see to it that you remain in irons for the rest of your days!”

“No, please! I don't understand…”

“Silence, idiot! I should have known better... to trust this place after it's been riddled with filth.”

“I beg you... please. This is not what it seems!”

“You,” He points to Mallus. “You're in charge here until I can sort this all out.”

“It will be my pleasure.” Mallus gives a bow while doing his best to hide a wicked grin.

“And you... you're coming with me to Dragonsreach. We'll see how quickly your memory clears in the city's prisons. Now move.”

“Look, I assure you, this is all just a huge misunderstanding!”

“I said move!” The captain grabs Sabjorn by the shoulder and forces him forward, leading him out of the building.

No longer hiding the smile, Mallus turns to Andie and clasps his hands together. “I don't think that could have gone any better. Anything else you need before you head back to Riften?”

“I need to get a look at Sabjorn's books.”

“So, Maven wants to hunt down Sabjorn's private partner, huh? You're welcome to take a look around Sabjorn's office. He keeps most of his papers stashed in his desk. Here, this should help.” He hands Andie the key to the office.

“What are you going to do with this place?”

“Start changing it over to the Black-Briar Meadery West as soon as possible. That was Maven's part of the deal. She's put me in charge of keeping the mead flowing, so that's exactly what I'm going to do. If you're in the area and you ever need anything fenced, you just let me know.”

Andie hesitates for a second before speaking again. “You never mentioned that lunatic living in the tunnels.”

“I thought it would be better to leave some of the details out of our previous discussion. Didn't want to risk you walking away from the job. Besides, you've done Maven a favor getting rid of him and saved me from wasting coin hiring someone else to do it later.”

“Right…” She turns to head to the second floor of the building.

“Remember to put in a good word with Maven for me!”

Making her way to Sabjorn’s private chambers, she searches around for a short while before finding documents hidden away in one of his drawers. A cursory glance reveals the same symbol seen on the Goldenglow documents. She raises an eyebrow but quickly stuff the papers away. Looking towards a door in the back of the room, and finding it locked, she of course picks the lock and sneaks her way in. She had heard from Delvin of a special decanter at the meadery before heading out that he’d be interested in - surely Mallus won’t miss it. There’s a small smirk on her face as she slips it into her bag and re-locks the door behind her before making her way out of the meadery, down to where the carriage driver is waiting, and back to Riften…

Once again on the second floor of the Bee and Barb, Andie approaches the older, dark haired woman. Maven doesn’t look up at her as she comes to a stop by the table, eyes focused outside the window the table sits next to.

“I trust you have good news for me.”

“Job’s completed. Here's the information you requested” She pulls out the papers and sets them on the table in front of Maven.

“This doesn't tell me much. The only thing that could identify Sabjorn's partner is this odd little symbol.” Maven points to the bottom of one of the pages.

“Yes. I've seen that symbol before.”

“Well, whoever this mysterious marking represents, they'll regret starting a war with me. You should bring this information to the Thieves Guild immediately. There's also the matter of your payment. I believe you'll find this more than adequate for your services.” She pulls out a rather large pouch of gold and sets it on the table. Andie scoops it up and shoves it in her bag, turning to go and disappear down the stairs once more, not letting Maven speak anymore.

Andie makes her way through the marketplace, towards the graveyard. The small building that sits in the cemetery holds the secret entrance to the cistern. Brynjolf had pointed it out to her at some point after she had joined when he realized she kept traveling through the Ratway. Pressing the button on the stone coffin, it shifts into the wall, revealing a hidden staircase beneath the floor leading to a ladder. As it closes again above her, she slides down the ladder into the cistern. She greets the other thieves there, Sapphire, Cynric, Rune, Niruin, and Thrynn. They all tended to hang out in the space near the secret passage, so she would regularly greet them when she came and went. Walking past, she quickly spotted Brynjolf sitting on the edge of the pool, boots dangling in the water. Without looking towards her, eyes focused in the water, he speaks.

“Word on the street is that poor Sabjorn has found himself in Whiterun's prison. How unfortunate for him.” A moment later he looks over his shoulder with a smile.

“Very fortunate for Maven though.” She sighs and lowers herself to take a seat next to him.

“Exactly! Now you're beginning to see how our little system works.”

She looks at him, tired and annoyed. His only response is a shrug.

“Just cause that’s how things have been, doesn’t mean that’s how it should be.”

“Yes, well, in any case Maven sent word that you discovered something else while you were out there. Something important to the Guild?”

“I did. The same symbol from Goldenglow was involved.”

“Then this is beyond coincidence. First Aringoth and now Sabjorn. Someone's trying to take us down by driving a wedge between Maven and the Guild.”

“Anything we can do?”

“Mercer thinks he knows a way to identify this new thorn in our side. He wants to meet with you right away. And if I were you I'd hurry. I've never seen him this angry before.” He gives her a pat on the shoulder before shifting to stand up. He holds out a hand to help her up.

Accepting the hand, she pulls herself up. Once standing, she dusts herself off and flashes him a smile before turning towards the desk Mercer is currently leaning over.

Without looking up from the table, he addresses Andie as she approaches.

“Ah, there you are. I've consulted my contacts regarding the information you recovered from Goldenglow Estate, but no one can identify that symbol.”

“I found the same marking at Honningbrew Meadery.”

“It would seem our adversary is attempting to take us apart indirectly by angering Maven Black-Briar. Very clever…”

“You admire them?” She raises an eyebrow, looking him over questioningly.

“They're well-funded and they've been able to avoid identification for years. I'm impressed it reached this point. Just don't mistake my admiration for complacency; our nemesis is going to pay dearly.”

“How can we make them pay?”

“Because, even after all their posturing and planning, they've made a mistake. The parchment you recovered mentions a "Gajul-Lei." According to my sources, that's an old alias used by one of our contacts. His real name is Gulum-Ei. Slimy bastard.”

“Where do I begin?”

“Gulum-Ei is our inside man at the East Empire Company in Solitude. I'm betting he acted as a go-between for the sale of Goldenglow Estate and that he can finger our buyer. Get out there, shake him down and see what you come up with. Talk to Brynjolf before you leave if you have any questions.” He shakes his head and lets out a sigh, speaking just above a whisper to himself. “Aringoth was a fool to think he could get away with this.”

Andie debates speaking for a moment, but asks her question anyway.

“How is all this affecting the guild?”

“Goldenglow Estate provided a huge payout for us before Aringoth locked us out. Maven looked the other way as long as the honey kept flowing and we kept him in line.”

“And Honningbrew?”

“Let's not kid ourselves. Black-Briar Mead is swill. The only thing keeping it successful is Maven. Word on the street was that Honningbrew tasted better, cost less and Sabjorn didn't shove it down everyone's throat. If Sabjorn ever managed to push Maven off her pedestal, we'd all be in trouble.”

“Seems like all our eggs are in one basket…”

At that Mercer looks up from the table with a scowl. “Look, in case you hadn't noticed, these aren't the glory days of the Guild. We've lost more clients in the last decade than I'd care to count, but Maven's stuck with us throughout the entire ordeal. I'll be damned if I'm going to lose her to... well, to whatever they are.”

She hesitates for another moment, but speaks again. “What’s Gulum-Ei’s story?”

“When Gulum-Ei was getting us merchandise from the East Empire Company, we were making a hefty profit. It was so lucrative, I was considering moving the Guild to Solitude to save us time.” He shakes his head again and looks down at the table. “It would be a waste now.”

“What happened?”

“Gulum-Ei started to get greedy and cut us out of the deal. Almost can't say I blame the scaly bastard. It started out innocent enough; he kept claiming the shipments were light because of Imperial interference. Then, maybe a few years ago, it all stopped. He didn't even bother to contact us anymore.”

“Understood. I’ll go speak with Brynjolf.”

He doesn’t acknowledge her any further as she turns to walk away. Deep down she understood that he was probably doing the best he could for the guild, carrying the burden alone, but he always felt so distant, so secretive. What the hell was his deal?

She shakes her head as she makes her way across the bridge towards the tunnels to the Ragged Flagon. Once there, she flips a few septims onto the table where Delvin sits.

“I got you another present.” She pulls out the decanter and sets it in front of him.

He smiles and nods slowly. “I’ve been wanting this one for ages. Drinks are on me tonight.” He slides the coins back to her. “I swear, with every job you do you’re breaking this curse.”

She smiles back and gives him a wink before turning towards where Brynjolf is sitting at the bar.

“Hey there stranger. You new in town?”

He rolls his eyes and turns to look at her. “So? What’d Mercer say?”

“He told me to go to Solitude and talk to a Gulum-Ei.”

At the sound of the name his eyebrows furrow. “I can't believe Gulum-Ei's mixed up in all this; that Argonian couldn't find his tail with both hands. Don't get me wrong, he could scam a beggar out of his last septim... but he's no mastermind.”

She takes the seat next to him. “Think he’ll give me trouble?”

“Trouble? He's one of the most stubborn lizards I've ever met! You have your work cut out for you.”

“So how do I make him talk?”

“You're going to have to buy him off; it's the only way to get his attention. If that fails, follow him and see what he's up to. If I know Gulum-Ei, he's in way over his head and you'll be able to use it as leverage.”

“Betrayal or not, I’ll let him live. I don’t exactly feel like pissing Mercer off.”

“I'm glad to see you're embracing our methods. It would be a waste to lose a contact at the East Empire Company before we had the entire story. Just keep on Gulum-Ei's tail and he's bound to step into something he can't scrape off his boot.”

“If I get information from Gulum-Ei, what then?”

“Just head right back to the Guild and get the information to Mercer. Nothing else is more important. If you discover Gulum-Ei's holding out on us and has more loot stashed away than he claims, we'd find that information quite valuable as well.”

“How is Gulum-Ei an asset to the Guild?”

“Gulum-Ei works in the East Empire Company Warehouse. He helps maintain all of the shipments of goods that goes in and out of Solitude. That means he has the pick of the litter from some of the finest goods to grace Skyrim's shores. He isn't exactly in the Guild, but he pays us a cut of all the stuff he lifts from the warehouse.”

“And you think he’ll give me trouble?”

Brynjolf nods sagely. “There are thieves and then there is Gulum-Ei. No honor, no code at all. He'd shake your hand and stab you in the back at the same time. The cut he's supposed to provide the Guild has dwindled as of late. He says pickings in the Warehouse are slim, but I'm certain he's lying. Keep your eyes on him, he's quite crafty.”

“And what about the East Empire Company? How are they involved?”

“A mercantile group that has established ports all over Tamriel. They pretty much dominate the whole shipping industry. The Emperor himself supposedly backs them, which means they have fairly unlimited resources... so don't get their feathers in a ruffle. Good luck out there, though. Keep him alive, but remind him who we are.” He gives her that stern look she had grown used to from when she first joined the guild, but just as quickly it fades to a smile. “Still, that’s for tomorrow. Tonight, we drink and sing merrily! Surely you’ve learned a new song for us.”

“I don’t know about new, per se, but I do have a couple songs I’ve been working on.”

He leans into her, bumping her shoulder with his own. “Well then, lass, play something for us already then? Don’t leave us in suspense.”

She rolls her eyes and smiles as she shakes her head at him. Getting up, she picks up the lute from the shelf she leaves it on and finds a spot in the middle of the tavern to begin plucking the strings. She starts with a tap of her foot, and then the plucking of strings follows. An upbeat tune that causes everyone to start tapping their own feet fills the air. As she plays she smiles, letting all the professionalism, the burdens, and the stress fade away. All that existed was herself and the music. She dances around the room, pulling people out of their chairs, inviting them to dance as well. Eventually the whole room is dancing and drinking, laughing and smiling. As per usual, Brynjolf remains quiet, watching the festivities with a smile. These types of events could go on for a couple hours, until everyone was tired and passed out, or just black out drunk. Andie and Brynjolf would be the only ones left standing, looking over everyone else. On this particular night, Andie took her seat at the bar back, looking over at Brynjolf.

“Thank you.”

“For what, lass?”

“For, this. All of this.” She smiles as she motions around to the whole tavern. “Maybe it’s not quite what I wanted out of life, but just this alone makes it all worth it.”

He stares at her for a moment and then out at the other members of the guild sleeping at their tables or on the floor. “We should be thanking you. None of this was possible before you.”

She looks back at him and shakes her head. “I don’t believe that. I just think you’d all given up.”

He’s quiet, staring at her for a moment before looking away. “Well, in any case, thank you, lass.”

“You’re more than welcome.” She continues to smile as she drinks her ale.

Moments of silence pass before he speaks again.

“I do have one confession for you.”

“Oh?” She turns her attention back to him.

He nods slightly while looking at the ground. “I knew who you were when you arrived in town.”

She stares at him, brow slowly furrowing as the confusion sets in. “I don’t understand.”

“Your grandfather, whoever he was, sent a letter ahead of you. Askin’ the guild to set up Honeyside for his relative’s arrival. Told us to take care of them. Keep an eye out for them.”

Her brow furrows further. No questions are asked, but they’re written all over her face.

“According to Mercer, he was the Guild Master before Gallus, who was Guild Master before he was. I was tasked with fixing up the house before you arrived. We didn’t realize it was because, well... I’m sorry, lass. We thought you knew, and when we realized you didn’t, we weren’t sure when to tell you. Let alone how to tell you.”

She turns her gaze from him slowly towards the rest of the guild members. Her mind races over the various stories her grandfather told her, of everything Brynjolf had said to her, about when she told them why she was in Riften. Absentmindedly, one of her hands lifts to her face, partly covering it before it runs through her hair.

“I understand if you’re upset with us, lass. None of us would blame you.”

When she does speak, it’s quiet, barely above a whisper. “No, no. You didn’t know. I just… why didn’t he tell me?”

“He must have had his reasons, or perhaps he died before he could.”

She’s quiet for another moment before shaking her head and looking back at Brynjolf with a melancholic smile. “Well, in the end, he must have wanted me to meet all of you. I was so alone before all this, and you brought me into your family. Thank you.”

She leans forward and wraps her arms around Brynjolf in a hug that takes him somewhat off-guard. Gingerly he pats her back, but when he realizes she’s not letting go yet he envelops her in his own arms and squeezes tightly. He holds her for a few moments before feeling her arms grow weak around him. Pushing her off him slightly, he sees that she’s passed out from all the exhaustion and emotion. There’s a tender smile as he gently lifts her and brings her away from the tavern and towards the cistern, where he sets her in her bed, pulling the blanket up around her, and then heads back to the Ragged Flagon to check in on everyone else…

#company in shadows #Andie Blackthorn #so if you hadn't guessed by now i'm writing my skyrim experience as a fanfic #fanfic #brynjolf #nightingale fanfic #this is my first every character in the game #skyrim fanfic

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