CHAPTER ONE: SO EASY, A FOOTPAD COULD DO IT
"Yeah, well, I didn't realize the noble was a retired Legionnaire." Brynjolf leaned back in his chair so the front legs no longer touched the dirty floor of the Flagon. "Had I known, then yes, I would have taken the back door." He chuckled. The Flagon erupted with laughter. The dimly lit tavern nestled beneath the city of Riften had been quite empty for some time. Thieves had come and gone; oh no, but not with the Ragged Flagon's belongings—the tavern was a home, a safe haven for thieves. It was the home of the Thieves Guild, a notorious guild of shadow walkers, taking from the rich, giving to the poor (or keeping it to themselves).
Among the laughing sat Sattilde Wolfguard, a Skyrim native Nord. She grinned in the distance, hiding at a separate table from the crowd, polishing her dagger. Brynjolf ran his large hand through his auburn hair, taking notice of Sattilde behind the rabble. He excused himself as the crowd split into individual conversations and took a seat next to her. He crossed his arms on the table, holding his bicep in one hand.
"Vex told me you did the Goldenglow job." His face was serious, no longer playful as it had been just a moment ago. It was strange to Sattilde how quickly he could go from a sarcastic joke to talking about guild business.
"It was simple. A job that could have been completed by a Footpad." She smirked, hoping to bring out that playful side in Brynjolf again, but he smiled only briefly. "I found something quite interesting." She placed her dagger on the table and then reached into the breast pocket of her guild armor. She revealed a clean, folded parchment, once sealed with wax, but was now flapped open.
"I uh, read the contents. It had nothing on the outside. It was on Aringoth's person. Little bugger said he had little choice. If he was going to wind up dead no matter who he crossed, why did he do it in the first place?"
Brynjolf raised an eyebrow, "Did you kill him?" He took the parchment from Sattilde's hand and began investigating its contents.
"Gods no! I just mean–"
"Aringoth!" Brynjolf was reading the letter and furrowed his brow. "The man sold the estate!"
"I know… that's what I mean. Obviously the guild wouldn't have murdered him, but Maven is a different story."
"What's that idiot thinking? And what's this odd symbol at the top?"
"I don't know. Some kind of dagger. As far as who it belongs to, I haven't the slightest clue." Brynjolf carefully placed the paper on the table, as if it may shatter if not handled properly. Sattilde pondered; she remembered something, years back when she first joined, of a member disappearing, but she couldn't remember the name. She also seemed to recall it was a sore subject for the entire group, so bringing it up wouldn't be a good idea. Sattilde tucked a black strand of hair behind her ear and rubbed her eyebrow with her index finger.
Brynjolf finally let out an exaggerated sigh, as if he had forgotten to breathe, "Let's take this to Mercer. Maybe he'll have some idea." They both pushed their chairs behind them, Sattilde tucked her dagger into her belt. The Ragged Flagon dripped with leaks, being located in the sewers of Riften. The organization was, for the most part, ignored by the authorities in Riften. Maven Black-Briar, being the most influential (and wealthy) person in the city, controlled the guards and businesses. She even gave the guild jobs to fulfill her plans and in return, she would pay the guards to look the other way when the guild conducted business in the city.
Sattilde and Brynjolf headed across the dining area of the bar. The area was a large circular pool, a central location for the many tunnels that formed the sewer network. Around the water's perimeter was a brick walkway, dirtied from sewage, traffic, and rain. There were several alcoves surrounding the walkway where merchants set up shop. It was all dimly lit; the main light source being the opening in the top that opened up to a sewer grate in the city. It shone down, a light burst illuminated the center of the room. At night, when the city lay dark, the only lights that flickered were the ones in the shops and the candles mounted on the walls near the bar itself.
In the corner of the cistern, behind the counter of the bar, a hallway winded to the right and then to the left, leading to the main cistern of the sewer. It, similar to the Ragged Flagon, had a brick walkway around the perimeter, but in the middle, hovering just above the water, were four arches leading up to a platform. Straight ahead, were two massive metal doors locked the way to the treasure room; an accumulation of the Thieves Guild hard work hid behind the doors.
"Mercer." Mercer was just across the cistern, poring over some documents. Unlike Brynjolf, who was much more muscular, unshaven, and square in the jaw, Mercer's only trace of facial hair was his 5 o'clock shadow. His hair was always clean cut, Sattilde always assumed to look presentable to clients. His jaw was more angular, as was his scowl, which he never seemed let leave his face. Mercer was the guildmaster, rising to the station when the previous guildmaster, Gallus, who was murdered.
"What is it Brynjolf?" Mercer seemed agitated, which wasn't unusual, as if Brynjolf had been pestering him for hours.
"Sattilde finished the Goldenglow job; found this little gem." Brynjolf tossed the parchment on the documents Mercer was reading as if it was no longer fragile, catching Mercer's attention. Mercer picked up the bill of sale, skimmed it over, his scowl growing more intense.
"Aringoth is going to feel Maven's wrath." He kind of shook his head.
Brynjolf stepped closer, "Any idea what the symbol at the top means?" he tapped the top of the paper. Brynjolf was a couple of inches taller than Mercer.
"Hm…" Mercer grabbed his chin. "I have some ideas, but nothing concrete." He changed the subject, "I think Maven is planning something. I need someone to go talk to her. It could possibly have something to do with this." he waved the parchment, then tossed it to the desk.
Brynjolf and Sattilde walked back toward the middle of the cistern, "I think you should go see her. I'm almost definite she knows of Aringoth's betrayal. She's not a fool. In the meantime, I'm going to contact some people and see if I can find out more about this symbol."
"We still on for tonight, Brynjolf?" Sattilde pushed her hair behind her ear again.
"Of course. I wouldn't miss a night of Vex yelling at you for the world." He chuckled. There it was, the sound Sattilde wanted to hear. She couldn't think of anything witty for a response, so she smirked instead. For the past 5 years, she had grown very close to Brynjolf. When he greeted her, she felt her heart thump violently in her chest. When he smiled at her, she could feel blood rush to her cheeks. When he said her name, she felt her stomach flip.
She always suspected he felt the same, but he always seemed distracted by the guild's decline to really show his feelings toward her. She knew he liked her, at least as a friend, and that was enough for her. He was a mentor for her and a confidante in the issues that have overwhelmed her.
His face turned sour for a moment.
"What is it?" Sattilde quickly asked.
"Nothing… I…" He rubbed his jaw, "My mind was wandering. I'll see you tonight."
Sattilde stepped aside so he could follow the arch down to the secret exit into the city.
That was strange. Sattilde shook it off as Vex approached her, seemingly out of nowhere.
"I see you completed the Goldenglow job." She said, folding her arms across her chest, and stretching out a foot between herself and Sattilde.
"Yep." Sattilde replied. She had run-ins with Vex before, who seemed to be irritated that she was a member in the first place. She knew it wasn't anything personal; Vex just liked to be on top. Vex wanted to be the best thief in the world, but as far as Sattilde was concerned, she already was. Sattilde would never stroke Vex's ego anymore than it needed to be though.
"'Yep'? That's all you have to say?"
"Pretty much. I'm not in competition with you, Vex. I've already told you before."
"Are you going to be there tonight?" Vex was clearly looking to embarrass Sattilde for doing the job better than her. Sattilde knew she would find some way to point out the flaws she made during the Goldenglow job.
"I planned on it, yes."
"Good." Vex turned on her heel and headed toward the living quarters. Sattilde removed herself from the cistern, emerging from the secret entrance into the city. After the altar covered the secret passage, Sattilde leaned against the wall that created a cover for people who wanted to pray. After a couple of minutes had passed, she walked out from under the brick awning and rounded the corner. A guard usually patrolled the back of the city, to make sure people didn't desecrate the statue of Mara. While they usually ignored the Thieves Guild member, Sattilde always liked to practice caution when exiting the guild headquarters.
For once, it wasn't raining in Riften. Autumn had just begun and in a couple of months, the rain would turn to snow. Being in Skyrim's southern area and being just far enough away from the mountains, Riften was of a warmer climate than most of Skyrim's other cities. The leaves turned oranges and reds, and by the start of winter, the land would be blanketed in snow.
Sattilde hated the winter though, but not because it was lacking in serenity, but because it was a solemn reminder of her parents' death…
It was the 30th of Sun's Dusk in the 4th era 196, winter had recently arrived, and in the southern city of Falkreath, it was bustling with shopkeepers, traveling merchants, and children playing in the streets. Sattilde had moved to Riften three years earlier in pursuit of a better life. Falkreath was very much impoverished and people would often scrape by, besides the well-to-do merchants.
The Thalmor, having free reign due to the White-Gold Concordat, would often enter the cities of Skyrim, making sure people weren't illegaly practicing the worship of Talos. Sometimes, they would take matters into their own hands and personally punish violators themselves.
However, sometimes Thalmor agents went rogue; not following any law at all and causing havoc where they saw fit. Falkreath was a victim of this cruel behavior on that cold Sun's Dusk night, five years before, where a band of rogue Thalmor mages burned half of the city to the ground. Among the victims, Sattilde's parents perished in the flames of their violent act.
Sattilde rubbed her arms in the chillier air. She thought of her parents often and blamed herself every time she did for their deaths. If she had been there, if she hadn't left, if she had just stayed for another year or two, maybe, maybe she could have protected them.
Brynjolf often reminded her that she was not as skilled with weapons back then and there wouldn't have been much she could have done; after all, several guards were also killed in the attack, a civilian would have faired much worse in the fight.
She let out a heavy sigh, as if it would lift the weight of her guilt from her heart, but it never helped. She made her way past the Temple of Mara to the center of town, where similar to the cistern, bridges connected the center platform to the rest of the city's wooden walkways. Merchants had small stalls set up and could be heard shouting out their blurbs of their "fantastic", "life altering" products.
Sattilde pushed her way past the housewives shopping and the men bargaining to the inn, The Bee and the Barb, opening the door to the usual squabble of drunken Nords, guffawing and slapping shoulders over tankards of mead. At the left were several tables with seats, most were full, even in the morning. Beyond them was where the Argonian Keerava would be cleaning the counter or baking her traditional Black Marsh recipes, and Nord recipes to appease her patrons. Talen-Jei, also an Argonian, would sometimes stand close to the entrance, surveying the place, making sure the people weren't getting too rowdy, which was to be expected when dealing with intoxicated Nords.
Talen-Jei acknowledged Sattilde with a head nod and she made her way past him and to the right where a staircase led to the rooms above, to Maven's usual meeting place. The inn was normally loud enough that no one could overhear their conversation and the least suspiciuos place to meet as most everyone went into The Bee and the Barb for food and drink.
"Sattilde, so nice to see you again." Maven sounded as she were mocking Sattilde. She sat in the corner of the second floor, thumbing through some documents, much similar to Mercer. She hadn't even looked up. Her hair was pulled back with her jet black hair in a braided crown at the top of head, the rest of it flowing down past her shoulders. Her eyebrows held a deep seated hatred for people and her lips were very good at showing her disgust with most.
"How about we skip the coversation?" Sattilde had dealt with Maven before, and knowing Maven, she liked to get right down to business. Wasting time was not something that she enjoyed.
"You're a firebrand, aren't you?" Maven didn't even let a smile slip. "It's good to know Brynjolf isn't running a beggar's guild over there. You don't take me for a fool, do you, Sattilde?"
Even if Sattilde did, she would never in any circumstance, admit it to Maven Black-Briar herself, or anyone for that matter. Maven wasn't a force to reckon with and she had eyes and ears spread out through the area, stretching beyond the city's limits. "Not in the slightest." And that was the truth.
"Good, because I know of Aringoth's treachery, but he doesn't know of mine. Head to the Bannered Mare, in Whiterun, and look for Mallus Maccius. My only regret is letting Sabjorn get as far as he did with that bile he calls mead."
"I'm guessing Sabjorn runs some kind of brewery there?"
"Yes, Honningbrew, and one more time in case I wasn't clear: you butcher this job and you'll be sorry."
"I'll get it done."
"I know you will."
Sattilde nodded and then took her leave, heading back to the cistern. Brynjolf had not yet returned, so she headed to the living quarters to pack some clothes and supplies for her trip to Whiterun. Normally, she'd take the carriage, but she needed to save her money. She had been hoping to buy a young colt soon so as to save from spending her gold on carriage drivers. It would be a better investment, as she would be able to transport her stolen riches easier.
As she packed the last invisibility potion into her knapsack, she flopped on the bed and drifted off into a nap.
When Sattilde awoke, Brynjolf loomed over her, smiling. She looked up at him and then sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes.
"How long was I out?" she yawned.
Brynjolf snorted, "You were already out when I got here. That was a couple of hours ago. It's early evening now."
Sattilde got up and resumed packing for her trip, stuffing some invisibility elixirs into her knapsack. "Did you find out anything?" she asked.
His smile faded, "No, but they said they'd contact me if they come across any useful information." he stared at her deeply, as if lost in a trance. Sattilde turned her head to go back to packing, smiling as she did.
"What?" she asked.
Brynjolf opened his mouth, paused, closed his mouth again, but finally said, "You look… nice."
Sattilde felt her cheeks go hot, "Thanks, Bryn. Any reason for the unprompted compliment?"
Brynjolf shook his head, "Just thought you'd like ta hear it, lass."
Sattilde's heart sunk a little, "Well, thank you then." She then returned to her packing.
"I'll see you in the Flagon, aye?" he asked.
"Yes, once I'm done packing."
Brynjolf had barely noticed she was putting supplies into a bag, "Ah, you spoke to Maven, then?" he took a seat on the bed as Sattilde gathered up the food she packed and latched the satchel to her bag.
"Yes, she knows about Aringoth. She's been planning something in the background, something to do with Honningbrew Meadery in Whiterun." Sattilde placed the pack next to her bed along with a second small bag of food then sat next to Brynjolf on the bed.
"She didn't give me any other details, but I'm suspecting this has something to do with the meadery Maven owns. I figure she doesn't want any sort of competition."
"I wonder if she and Vex meet in secret."
Sattilde and Brynjolf laughed together. Brynjolf then grabbed Sattilde's knee and patted it a couple of times. This made Sattilde's stomach flip.
"Well, I'd like to have a little fun with you before you leave for Whiterun. Let's head over to the tavern and drink." Brynjolf stood and helped Sattilde up from the bed and they walked to the Flagon together. Sattilde was nervous; she had been to Whiterun before, but it was years ago. Most of her guild jobs were based in Riften and Windhelm. The other members took care of the jobs that required more distance. She couldn't even remember how long it took to get there.
"Brynjolf, how long does it take to get to Whiterun?" Sattilde asked.
"About a two days." Brynjolf glanced over, looking Sattilde up and down, but he didn't say anything more. He knew Sattilde quite well and if she had any more concerns, she would–
"I'm a bit worried."
"Hm? What's on your mind, lass?"
"I just haven't been to Whiterun since…"
"Since you came to Riften? The roads haven't changed in that time. There's not much to worry about, just the usual: wolves, bandits, and weather."
Sattilde nodded and breathed a sigh of relief. He was right after all. What could have possibly changed in the past 7 years?
Delvin slammed down a pint of mead, shouting profanities at Vipir who was jesting at his age. Vex carried a couple of mugs over to the round table where Sattilde and Brynjolf were seated. She had to bend over to set them down to minimize the spillage.
"Alright, Sattilde. Fists up." Brynjolf teased, nudging Sattilde with an elbow.
"Ha ha." Sattilde replied. "Vex knows I didn't do that job to shame her. I was just doing the job."
"Shame me?" Vex took a seat next to Brynjolf. "You'd have to try a lot harder than breaking into Goldenglow to bring shame to me." She distributed the mugs of alcohol amongst the group, taking a sip of her own.
"Brynjolf isn't going to let me leave unless you deal out some better insults, Vex." Sattilde took a big swig of mead. It had a sweeter flavor than most, made with the freshest honey at Goldenglow Estate, much better than the Honningbrew swill.
"Sorry, but I don't think I'm in an insulting type of mood currently, Bryn. My mind has been preoccupied." she didn't hesitate, "What's going to happen to the guild?" The chatter seemed to die down as if people were eavesdropping on their conversation.
Brynjolf waited for the conversations to start up again before replying, "I don't know. It seems to be getting worse every week. More members are leaving. Newer members don't stay long."
"It's like…" Vex started.
"It's like we're cursed." Brynjolf finished.
Sattilde hadn't been in the guild for as long as Vex and Bryn. She didn't know the guild had any other state but a declining one. She took another swig of mead, swishing it around in her mouth before swallowing.
"What do you mean?" Sattilde asked.
"The guild didn't used to be this way. It was prosperous before; the treasury overflowed with gold and jewels, the beds were full, the people of Riften feared the Thieves Guild many years ago." Brynjolf had already finished half of his mug, but took another drink,
"But now…"
"Now it's a disgrace." Vex spat.
"Vex."
"Bryn, you're one of the older members. You and I both know how it used to be. Compared to how it was 20 years ago, the Thieves Guild now is a joke."
Sattilde remembered stories from her mother who heard stories from her mother, and so on, about the Thieves Guild in the third era. How the very mention of the guild made guards scoff, made beggars sneer, made nobility tighten their locks. Most people were convinced the guild didn't even exist. No one had to pay off the guards back then; the Thieves Guild made everyone fear them with blackmail, theft, and lies.
"No… she's right, Bryn." She placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "I remember stories from my mother. People used to fear the Thieves Guild back then as much as they fear the Dark Brotherhood now."
Brynjolf and Vex sat silent for a bit, then Brynjolf threw back the last of his mead, "I don't know what we're going to do. For now, let's not focus on that. We've got jobs coming in, so we're going to do them and let people know about the Thieves Guild."
Sattilde and Vex nodded.
"Alright. I should head off to bed. If I'm gonna leave before first light, I need to get some sleep. I guess I'll see you both in five days." Sattilde tossed Vex a couple of gold coins her way for the mead, then waved Brynjolf good-bye as she headed to bed.