Ashira's First Mission
"A city fee is required to enter Riften, khajiit", the guard spat at me. My eye twitched slightly and I closed the distance between us, staring intently.
"Don't lie to me. I know this is a sham against new visitors. Let me in or I swear I'll-"
"All right, all right", the guard mumbled, shushing me and turning around to unlock the city. "Keep your voice down. I may not have been able to get any coin out of you, but perhaps from the next unlucky newcomer." I simply glared at him, not wanting to cause any more trouble. The doors to the city swung open and the smell of water wafted into my nose. I walked in with head held high and my tail whipping back and forth in a somewhat carefree manner. I'd only recently been released from Elsweyr and my mother's care, graduated the Bard's College and now I was ready to become my own Khajiit. I'd been gone from the Motherland for about two years now. I'd travelled from Morthal to Whiterun, but never to the southeast that was Riften. I walked out of Whiterun and up to the local carriage, paid twenty gold septims and here I was. The reason wasn't known to me nor did it matter. Perhaps it was the desire to see the Temple of Mara for myself; or to purchase some of the finer weapons of Skyrim. The smith here in the city was claimed to be one of the greatest and I simply wasn't going to pass up a fine weapon. My own iron sword was beginning to look a little frail and it was time for a new blade.
I walked straight ahead and a swinging, wooden sign loomed into view. It read the Bee and Barb; the local inn I guessed. I pressed forward and noticed a large, rounded area in the center of the city and to the right, the local blacksmith. I turned my attention toward it, but the smith was nowhere to be seen. Even the stands in the rounded area were unoccupied. Perhaps it was too early for business. No, it was definitely too early for business. It was just shy of six in the morning. The only place open was the Bee and Barb and I decided to wait around inside until the local shops began to open. I pushed my way past the wooden doors and examined the room. Instantly, music drifted to my ears and a smile spread across my face. A familiar tune. To my left was a staircase that led up to the second floor, most likely containing rooms for visitors to dwell in. A couple of tables were set up along the wall and an Argonian woman stood behind the counter, scrubbing it harshly with a damp rag. I hummed along to the bard's playing and took a seat at the bar.
"Good morning traveller. I'm Keerava, Would you like to rent a room? Perhaps a tankard of the famous Black Briar Mead?" She said. Her voice was scratchy and foreign. I'd never seen an Argonian up close. Not many reside in Whiterun, which was where I normally stayed. A room at the Bannered Mare seemed to be permanently rented to me.
"A room would be fine", I smiled at her.
"You're Khajiit. Don't see many of you folk around here anymore. To be honest, I don't believe all that schmuck that's been floatin' around about you're kind", she winked at me. I handed her ten gold septims. Now I was down to twenty-three coins. "I'll take you to your room then." The "schmuck" that was circulating through all of the holds of Skyrim was the general stereotype that all Khajiits were pickpockets; ruthless thieves. I fell under this category. I'd stolen from several of the rooms in the Bannered Mare, but just enough to get by and never enough to hurt a man's well being. I did it for the good of myself, not out of greed. I'd been taught as a cub to be smart and well aware of my surroundings, pickpocket with stealthy fingers and never to be seen unless I wanted to be. I was told I was born to be a thief and I'd come to accept that over the years. It wasn't right, but it was a way of life. Especially for me.
I received the worst of this racial slander in Solitude. All of the rich, good for nothing hierarchy seemed to reside in the stony walls of the old city. The Imperials were based there and seemed too dignified, in my opinion and the Stormcloaks were being absurd about the… Nord "traditions" being suppressed.
"Stand back, Khajiit. These pockets aren't for your conniving fingers to go through", one woman had hissed at me. Every humanoid creature in Skyrim referred to me as Khajiit. Never bothering to learn my real name. I'd only come to feel accepted when I met a small caravan of Khajiit travellers that were settling outside of Whiterun momentarily. It felt good to be with my own kind and speak in my own tongue again. The world outside of Elsweyr was surprising and…hateful. I loved it.
Keerava led me up the stairs and turned to the left, opening the first door we came to.
"Here we are—what's your name?" Keerava peered into my face and I took a step back, tail flicking this way and that.
"Asha", I answered. It wasn't my true name, but who wanted to go around saying Ashiramayaneth Ma'dat of Senchal, Southern Elsweyr. That's right. Nobody.
"A pretty name to go with an even prettier face. If you need anything just give a yell", she turned on her heel quickly and left me to my room. I walked in and ran my eyes over the contents. A bed in the right corner with a chest at its foot and just adjacent to that was a large dresser. Beside the bed was a small drawer with a candle sitting on it. I immediately set my pack down and went over to the bed and flung myself onto it. It smelled of straw and smoke. It was…comfy enough, but a traveller like myself couldn't be too picky. I stood up and went over to the mirror that hung on the wall and examined myself in it, smoothing the hair on my chin down.
"By the eight, I've gotten old too fast", I mumbled to myself. My orange coat was slightly ruffled from the long journey and my earrings were pointed in all different directions. Each stood for a rank I'd achieved in school. They were a symbol that I was a talented student. No, not talented. Extremely gifted in the art of thieving. I went through many different tasks and missions to stand where I stood today. Not many were awarded with the talon. Many were given three gold hoops, but if you succeeded through the tasks of the Talon, two talons of a sabre cat, were fashioned into earrings and replaced the gold hoop that hung in the first piercing on the ear. I was honored to wear them. The people of Skyrim never understood this custom, but the Khajiit outside of Whiterun questioned me extensively on how I came to acquire them.
"You wear the talon of the sabre cat", Ri'saad whispered to me, fingering it one night. The fire crackled in the background and the three other Khajiits in the caravan joined us.
"By the eight! She does wear the talon", Atahbah touched it too. "You are one of the few…I myself only have two. I don't wear them anyway, but I never completed most of my tasks-"
"Shut up, Atahbah. I have three hoops, getting the talons can't be that difficult", Khayla scoffed. Her eyes searched me up and down for some explanation. She'd despised me from the moment we met. I knew she'd never trust me. "She doesn't look like anything special." She spat out the piece of meat she'd been chewing on. "Disgusting Nord shit…"
"It was…the most difficult mission I'd embarked on. I never want to experience it again nor do I wish it upon anyone else who seeks the talon", I answered, trying to sound proud without boasting too much. I did feel entitled to a sort of "royal" treatment, but never expected much out of the Khajiit I met. Only praise and awe.
My eyes were a pale blue and the pupils wide; a sign that I was calm. They narrowed when I got angry and got even wider than normal when I was frightened. I pricked my ears forward and listened closely. I heard mumbling, but the words weren't distinct so I stopped trying to listen. The war paint across the top of my forehead was faded slightly, but I wasn't too worried about it. The paints used by the Khajiit lasted months if it had been cured right. I rubbed my fingers in slow circles on my temples and retreated from the mirror, eyeing the chest and dresser. My lip curled back in a mischievous grin and I immediately opened the chest, searching through it. I found a red and navy dress, a little too large for me, but what wasn't. I was on the shorter and thinner end of my kind. It was seen as a blessing. The smaller you were, the less likely you are to be noticed by the untrained eye. I also found a pair of leather boots and a heavy coin purse containing forty-seven gold septims. I chuckled to myself out of success.
"I'll be using you to pay for my new swords and I'll be wearing this dress to do it", I pulled off my own robes that I'd stolen from some unlucky Imperial renting a room at the Bannered Mare and stuffed it inside my pack. I slipped the dress over my head and turned in it. It was floor length and fit better than I expected and I twirled in it. I didn't bother with the shoes. I felt much more comfortable walking around on my own padded feet. I knew they could be trusted to keep quiet. I checked the dresser for more gold, but found nothing inside of it. A piece of half eaten bread sat on a silver plate and I sighed, taking it in one hand and biting out a large chunk. It tasted stale, but my stomach begged for food.
"After the swords, Asha. All of your money goes to your weapons right now", I mumbled to myself. Being on the road so much, one has to be armed and be prepared for hired thugs that might attack at any given time. My weapon of choice is the bow, but I settle for daggers and swords as well. Battle axes and greatswords were too heavy and tended to be used by warriors. I wasn't a warrior by any means, so I shied away from the larger weapons. Being a thief like myself for a living, I usually run into them every other Frostfall.
I pulled my own battered sword from wear it hung on my pack and ran a claw across its edge. "Dull as anything, that's what you are", I mumbled, tying it around my waist. I planned on selling it. I pulled my coin purse from my bag and added the forty-seven to it. I now had more than enough to pay for two new iron swords. I put my pack inside of the chest and closed it, securing it with my own lock. It was one I knew that couldn't be broken open easily by just any lockpick. I left the room quickly, shutting the door behind me and nearly stumbling down the stairs as I made my way outside. I turned to my right again and smoke billowed from the tall chimney above the blacksmith's forge and I walked toward it with haste. A man was sitting on a stool in the corner and his eyes narrowed as I approached.
"Come to see Balimund do his mighty craft, Khajiit?" he asked, standing up and dusting his hands off on his apron.
"I actually wanted to know what this would be worth…" I held out my old iron sword to him and he took it from me, feeling the metal with his hands.
"A well worn piece of iron this is", he muttered more to himself than to me. "You lookin' to sell?" I nodded. "Fifteen gold, cat." My nose wrinkled at the use of his feral term. We were 'cat people', but we were called Khajiits. Not cats.
"It cost ten more than that when I bought it about three months ago", I glared at him. He returned my foul stare and dared me to ask for more.
"Well, now it's worth ten less. Fifteen gold, take it or leave it", he challenged me. I took a deep breath and nodded.
"Fine, your price", he smirked and handed me fifteen gold.
"Anything else you need?"
"What have you got for sale?" He led me over to his work and pointed to the weapons that were laying on the work bench and a couple that were hung up on the wall.
"I crafted those steel ones just yesterday, sharpened to perfection and-"
"What…is that?" I pointed to one of the swords hanging up on the wall. It had a jagged edge and it hooked back before the hilt. The silver of the blade had a pale green tint, hardly noticeable. It was a beautiful blade.
"That's an orcish sword. A fellow brought it to me yesterday. It could be sharpened a little. I'll do it for you right now…if you've got the coin?"
"How much for the blade right now as it is?" I asked, reaching out to touch it. The metal was smooth beneath my fingers and I knew I had to have it.
"Fifty right now, seventy-five with the sharpening", he answered. I only had eighty, but the sword gleamed in the light. It called to me.
"Sharpen it, I'll take it", I answered. Balimund took the blade from the rack and went over to his grindstone. The sound of it scraping against the stone was music to my ears and when he brought it to me I nearly shrieked with excitement. I felt like a little cub again, receiving a gift from my mother on my birthday. I handed him the seventy-five septims and hung the sword at my waist, walking away proudly with my purchase. I stepped out into the rounded area and walked in a slow circle examining the stands. An argonian was selling fine jewelry and a woman was selling armor. I paid attention to neither. I didn't have any coins to spare. I walked around the full length of the circular market and stopped as I noticed a tall, red-haired man staring at me. He smirked at me and beckoned me over with his finger. In his stand were several different kinds of potions.
"Nice sword, lass", he said, pointing at it and maintaining his smile.
"Yes, thank you. I just bought it from Balimund", I answered, retreating slowly. His gaze scrutinized me and I instantly didn't trust him.
"Can I tell you something, lass?" He took a step forward and I took another step back.
"And what's that?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. He smelled of mold.
"You've never done an honest day's work in your life, have you lass?" He smirked at my expression. I was honestly surprised at his choice of words. Saying something like that to any man or woman could earn an accusing blow.
"What makes you say that?" I challenged him, narrowing my eyes.
"You seemed to carry quite a lot of gold on you before buying that sword, no one wastes money like that unless they've got a lot of it. Judging by your clothes, you don't have a job to support this kind of behavior", he smirked. He had me all figured out in a matter of twenty seconds.
"Who are you? My wealth is none of your business", I growled at him, feeling my eyes narrow in their sockets.
"I'm Brnyjolf and I've got a job for you if you're interested", he took a step back toward his stand. "I'll make it worth your while." I couldn't keep the honest interest from my face. I looked around in the surrounding area and nodded.
"What kind of job are you talking about?"
"You see that stand over there. The jewelry stand. It's owned by Madesi. I want you to break into his small safe kept below his counter and steal his silver ring. Then you need to plant it on a Dunmer merchant by the name of Brand-shei. He's standing right over there", he explained, pointing to the cart and then to the argonian that owned it. Brand-shei had long dark hair. I'd use that later to identify him.
"Why would I plant the ring on Brand-shei…" I asked suspiciously, wanting answers.
"Someone wants to cause him grief. No more questions, lass. Are you in? Or are you out?" He stared at me, searching my eyes.
"I'll do it."
"Great, now wait for my distraction", he turned away, toward the crowd that had gathered and cleared his throat. "Attention! Can I have your attention? Please!" I walked to the side and waited as Madesi made his way to Brynjolf as he started speaking about a rare potion he'd just concocted in his family's alchemy lab early this morning. I bent down slowly and glanced around me. No guards in sight. I pulled a lockpick from my pocket and stuck it in, twisting it until it clicked open. Another small chest was inside and I repeated the procedure. It clicked open within a matter of seconds and his silver ring was perched inside. I grabbed it and stood up, slipping it into my pocket. I closed the small door and walked across the round market until I noticed Brand-shei sitting on a couple of crates. I snuck behind them and pulled the ring from my pocket, gently placing it inside his own and then backed away slowly. The job was simple enough and no one seemed to notice my presence. I stood up and walked around the other way, joining the crowd that was listening to Brynjolf's speech.
"That's-That's all for today. Carry on", he said, and walked over to me. The crowd dispersed and several angry, potential customers grumbled about how they wasted their time listening to Brynjolf, the bumbling idiot. "You did it, lass. And not a soul noticed. Well done. Here's your pay." He handed me one hundred gold septims.
"I'm the leader of the Thieve's Guild. We live in the Ragged Flagon down in the Ratway. Meet me there if you've got the mind to join. There will be more gold where that came from", he winked. I nodded slowly, still in shock with how much gold I'd just received.
I sat in my room muttering to myself all night, wondering if I should or should not travel through the Ratway and meet Brynjolf in his own territory. Perhaps, it was a trap. But he was too eager to give me the job…he knew of my talent before he saw it. My talons…that was it. It must have tipped him off. That's it. I decided I had to go. I slunk out of my room with my pack on back still wearing my dress from before. My knew sword hung sheathed at my side and I was ready for any potential danger that I might come upon. I walked out of the Bee and Barb and straight across the rounded market until I came to a flight of stairs that led to the lower level of Riften. If I kept running left, I knew it would bring me to the entrance; Keerava informed me of that.
"You're not thinking of going down there are you? Thugs and…skeevers. They're all over the place. Or so I've heard. You'd be smart to stay away from Brynjolf and his lot. They're just a bunch of trouble is what they are", she grumbled to me, scrubbing away at her counter again. I'd asked her for information on Brnyjolf.
I tossed the thoughts of possible threats aside and turned the handle of the wrought iron gate that stood between me and my knew life. I pulled out another lockpick and shoved it in, turning it this way and that. The lock clicked and I swung the gate inward, opening the door to the Ratway.
The pungent odor of mold and dirty water wafted into my nostrils. It smelled disgusting and I took a step forward, landing my foot in a puddle of gods know what. I shook my foot off and took another step forward, ducking low and keeping as quiet as possible. I drew my new sword and took another few steps forward, my ears twitched back and forth, listening for movement. Two muffled voices could be heard from down the hall and I took a few more steps, sheathing my sword and pulling out my hunting bow and a couple of steel arrows. I moved in closer, just so I could barely make out the left shoulder of a man. I pulled back slowly and drew a breath, releasing the arrow. The arrow hit its mark and the unsuspecting man fell. Another more brutish looking man took his place, looking fierce and suspicious. He wandered down the hall towards me, but I was hidden well beneath the shadows and he didn't see me notch the arrow that took his life next. I notched another arrow just in case I ran into any more thugs. I crept forward, stepping over the bodies carefully and headed down a lit path. The gate was lifted and I couldn't see anything passed it, but a level that was eight feet below me. I shrugged and jumped the distance, landing silently. The ceiling dripped water and a couple of droplets landed on my head and shoulders as I passed through another doorway.
"Well, well, well…what do we have here?" A tall, dark Nord revealed himself and unsheathed a long, steel greatsword. "The Ratway is no place for a young cat like yourself." He chuckled darkly and I quickly pulled back the cord on my bow, releasing it. It struck him between the eyes and he fell. My heart was racing as I maneuvered through the Ratway. It creaked and dripped, skeevers growling in the darkness. I'd never been so scared in my life. I was alone in the middle of a sewer, fighting off beasts that could have possibly infected me with Ataxia. I encountered one more Nord and two skeevers before I walked underneath a curtain of water to reveal an axe that was lodged into a stone in the middle of a tiny garden. I looked at it, reached my hand out to touch it and recoiled. I wasn't going to take anything I didn't have to. I ran underneath another curtain of water and an older looking man stood up in his chair. A skeever lay in a nest in the corner. I quickly notched an arrow and killed the skeever.
"Who are you? And why are you in the Ratway! Get out, Khajiit!" He yelled at me, unsheathing his axe. I pulled out my sword, using it for the first time. I gripped the hilt tightly; perfectly balanced. It felt like air in my hands and I swung it effortlessly toward my pursuer, dodging a blow he had aimed at me first. I swung again and hit him in his shoulder. He sank to his knees and I decapitated him as he went down. His head rolled to the side and I watched it, numbed by the sight. There was a door straight ahead and a sign that read The Ragged Flagon. I walked toward it and reached out my hand to open it when something gripped my shoulder tightly and spun me around.
"Who are you?" the voice growled at me. I closed my eyes and then reopened them. His face was dark, but his eyes were bright and narrowed. One was brown and the other was blue. He was a khajiit. "State your business before I slit your throat, sister."
"B-Brynjolf sent me. I swear he did", I sputtered, shaking my head and dropping my sword at my side. He continued to stare at me, loosening his grip on my shoulder slightly. He shifted his face towards the light and three distinct scars were raised across his nose.
"You're not going to kill me, are you?" I asked in Ta'agra, our native language. He stared down at me, scrutinizing my every move. Like me, he had two talon earrings which meant he was born and raised in Elsweyr.
"Get inside before I change my mind."
