My name is K'vark. If you are looking for a story of romance and lust, or if your looking for a story about an honest, humble knight who would never steal, cheat, or lie, then go somewhere else. If you are searching for a book about thievery and murder, than friend, you've come to the right place. I am a Khajiit, born in Elsweyr, raised in Elsweyr, but you guessed it, I live elsewhere. Or rather, I live everywhere. I live where ever there is coin to be made, and I know what your going to ask. 'Is this book about you? Are you a thief?' Well yes, dammit, i'm a thief, I'm a killer, and most of all, I'm a liar. Impulsively. Make what you will of this story, choose what you believe or don't.

Chapter 1

I held my dying mother in my arms, crying salty tears that got my fur on my face wetter than a salmon swimming up a waterfall. I was only eleven, then. My father lay dead next to her, bloody and grimy. The bandits had taken his boots and left, only after stabbing my mother in the stomach, and pushing her to the ground.

"Cry not." She pleaded, lightly touching my cheek with her claws. "You will have time for mourning later. Now, you must run."

Her mouth filled with blood, and her yellow Khajiit eyes rolled up into the back of her head. She fell limp, like putty in my arms. I set her on the ground, and did the only thing that I've ever regretted, I ran. I ran, and didn't stop, until I reached home. Arriving there, I took my grandfathers ebony knives, some potions, a map, and some food I could eat on the road.

Those days are behind me, and I've finished my mourning. I've finished my crying, and I've finished my running. Now, the only running I do is to catch my next contract, or from a soldier whom I've just been caught pick-pocketing. And in Skyrim, there are plenty of people to steal from. Usually, the best rewards come from my contracts given to me from the Dark Brotherhood, who took me in when I was fourteen, training me to wield the knives that had been on display in my family's house for over four decades.

"Hey! You!" Shouted a Markarth guard, who had seen me pick the lock to the Markarth Museum. He started to run towards me, but I tucked and rolled through the door and quickly shut it behind me. I could hear him running up the stars, so I put my single-shoulder cape over both shoulers, put up my hood and mask, leaped into the air, and gripped the ceiling with my paws, and the corner of the wall with my feet. I waited there for several seconds, waiting for the guard to open the door. Finally, It opened. He dashed into the room, with his sword out, and shield up. He crouched, and began to inch his way forward.

I dropped.

I landed right on his back, and bashed his face off the floor, knocking him out. Then I noticed what was in the room in front of me. It was the Dwemer Artifacts, right where the blueprints I stole from Calcelmo said it would be. I walked into to room, and examined the display cases. From the looks of it, the most valuable items sat towards the back-center of the room, so I started there. Walking over to a display case, I looked inside.

It was a dwarven greatsword, sure to catch a fair price if I added the right honey too my words. I cut through the glass with my pointer claw, and took it, placing it in my enchanted satchel, which could hold 10 greatswords if I chose to do so. Then I moved on to the next case, and did the same. As I worked, I considered where I should sell my goods. Probably best to do it in the Ragged Flagon, where I would have no chance of being arrested. Or perhaps the College of Winterhold, who simply wouldn't care. They liked having weapons, which they could enchant and sell to travelers.

As I neared the last case, the guard began to wake up. I noticed a change in the atmosphere, and looked up.

"GUARDS!" He shouted.

"Oh for Rajhin's sake." I said. I smashed the last display case, pulled out the dwarven Bow within, and wielded it in my left hand. Then I took the quiver full of arrows, and slung it over my shoulder. I took the cape off my shoulder and let it hang behind me, just as five Markarth guards ran through the door, weapons in hand. There was no way I would make it out of here without some bloodshed. And if blood must be spilled, it may as well be theirs. I nocked two arrows on my bow at once, and fired so quickly, the soldiers had no time to react. Two guards fell over with arrows in their knees. "That'll make for a good story." I thought.

I knocked two more arrows. One hit a guard in the neck, the other hit a guard in the chest, knocking him backwards, and onto the ground. There was now only two left. The one on the ground, and the one charging straight at me, with a greatsword over his head, ready to strike

I pulled out my ebony knives, and crossed them together, taking the full blunt of the greatsword. I slid the two blades up against eachother, and pitched the man backwards, throwing him slightly off balance, as he dropped his greatsword behind his head. I stabbed with my right hand, but he dodged to the left, and pulled out a knife of his own. He stabbed at my back, forcing me to act quickly. I noticed the other guard had his bow in hand, aiming it right at me. I jumped, did a back-flip, and landed behind the guard with the knife, twisting it out of his hands, throwing my left arm around his stomach, and putting my knife to his throat.

"If you don't want to lose a comrade, drop your bow and lay face down on the ground." I said with malice.

He shot.

And killed the guard.

"Fuck!" I shouted. I threw my knife at him, stabbing him in his bow arm, forcing him to drop his bow and fall to the floor. I sprinted forward, pulled it out of his arm, and dashed out the door. As I ran down the stairs, and turned around the corner, three guards went into pursuit. I really didn't feel like fighting them, so I leaped up, landed on the roof of a house, and continued running. As I reached the end of the roof, I tucked, jumped, and landed on the next roof. I continued doing this until I got to the last building, where I jumped, did a front flip, and somersaulted as I hit the ground to break the fall. The two guards by the main gate looked at me confused as I ran out the gate, and down the stairs on the other side.

"Night mother, send me your steed!" I shouted. This got their attention.

"ASSASSIN!" One yelled, charging towards me, as Shadowmere appeared out of nowhere. I leaped onto the saddle, put up my hood and cape, and ordered my horse into a gait, speeding off into the distance.

Three days later, I arrived in Riften. I dismounted from Shadowmere a few miles out, and dismissed him. I had never been there before, so I had no idea what to expect. As I approached the gate, two guards told me to halt.

"To enter the city, you have to pay the visitors tax." Said the guard on the right.

I pulled both my knives out, and threw them both at him. They lodged into the wooden wall on either side of his head, drawing a trickle of blood from each of his ears. I put my forearm on his neck, face close to his.

"If you want to survive this day, you have to empty your purse into my hand."

I stretched my hand out under his chest. He gulped.

"Yes, sir."

He emptied his purse into my paw, and I put the coins in my purse. I put a hand on each knife, and pulled them out of the wood. His comrade watched in shock, as I walked through the gate, and into Riften.

I walked down the cobblestone path within Riften, and realized that I'd never seen such a beautiful city. Just being there made me want to settle down. I dismissed that thought, and walked towards the small bridge that lead toward the meadery. Just as I was about to cross, a human put his hand on my shoulder, and wheeled me around. As he did this, I discreetly pulled one of my knives out and put it against his stomach. He didn't notice, apparently not a very observant man.

"I saw what you did to that guard. You should have paid the fine." He said, putting his hand on his sword hilt. My eyes never strayed from his.

"And you should watch where you put your hands, imperial."

He raised his eyebrow. I pushed a little harder with my knife. He yelped, looking down at the knife that had just barely drawn blood.

"You have a lot of nerve, cat!"

I pushed him backwards with one hand, into a wooden beam. He glared at me, and stalked off. I was beginning to like this city more and more. As I crossed the bridge, I heard a woman in leather talking to a man. She said something about the Thieves Guild. This piked my interest, put I continued on. As I crossed the bridge, a man in Adept robes winked at me. I wasn't sure what to think of this until he spoke.

"I'm a mercenary looking for work, if your looking for help." I waved him off and continued walking. As I approached the market, a man in a black tunic walked up to me.

"You have a lot of coin on you." He said quietly, looking down his nose at me. "But ill bet you didn't earn a septim of it honestly."

"That a problem, Nord?" I said, face expressionless.

"Not at all. Quite the opposite in fact. I have some contacts down in the Ratway, if you know what i'm saying. I need you to steal the silver ring out of the lock-box in that stall over there, and plant it in that mans pocket. Do that, and i'll give a good word out for you."

"You have yourself a deal. Your my kind of scum." The man smirked, and walked over to an archway to cause a distraction.

As he started talking, I put my mask and cape on, and snuck over to the stall the man had pointed at, and went into a crawl, in the way only a Khajiit can. I opened the lock-box easily, and pulled out the silver ring on the inside, and re-locked it with my pick. This was a trick that took a lot of precision, and only master thieves could achieve it. I took off my cape and my mask, as to not attract too much attention, and walked over to the person the man had pointed at. I placed the ring in his pocket, and walked over to the stone wall surrounding the market place, sitting down on it to watch the show. The Argonian named Madesi, walked back to his stall and checked his strongbox. When he noticed the ring was missing, his eyes narrowed. He walked over to the crowd, and over to Bran-Shei, a Dark Elf. I watched as the Argonian spun him around by the shoulder.

"Turn out your pockets, elf!"

Bran-Shei instinctively put his hands to his pockets, and I smirked. I could get used to this kind of work. Bran-Shei's eyes widened as he felt the ring in his pocket, realizing he'd been framed. And then he did the thing that would incriminate him.

He ran.

"GUARDS!" Shouted Madesi. Immediately, three Riften guards chased after him. I looked over at the guards, and prepared to help when the Nord put his hand on my shoulders.

"You've done your duty, friend. The guards will take care of the rest. My name is Brynjolf. Follow me down to the ratway, I will introduce you to the others."