Author's Note - Hello and welcome! This is a Dragonborn-free story as of now, using the Thieves Guild storyline with an OC. It is T for now but it will be subject to change if future chapters warrant it. Otherwise I hope you enjoy this first chapter/introduction and let me know what you think, even if its a massive flame. All of it helps me see what needs improving and makes the story better. For anyone with stories that review mine I will return the favor :)
So just to wrap up this little note, read, enjoy, and REVIEW!
Chapter One
Civil Unrest and War. That was the headline that finally made Syl deal out the cards for her little game of destiny. It wasn't everyday that the Black Horse Carrier reported on things outside of Cyrodiil, so when they did it meant that it was big. And what was bigger than the chaos of war?
War drew in all sorts of types from all the lands that were ruled under the tainted thumb of the Empire. Mercenaries, not really caring who they fought for, crossed the border seeking a thrill and glory, weapons dealers looking for a tidy profit, and thieves taking advantage of thinly spread guard to hit their marks. Even more so than the other groups, the chaos of war and violent civil disobedience was like a playground for thieves. Lords and ladies would be with their troops or hiding away in the safest parts of their holds, providing a banquet of gems and riches for the cunning and talented. Merchants would close shop early while pheasants hid away in their homes, all leaving their precious city free of the watchful eyes that often made stealing hazardous.
Skyrim provided that perfect storm of chaos for any thief that had their sights set on easy pickings, but that's not strictly why Syl decided to leave the familiar comfort of the Imperial City. True enough she would add to her own wealth through the generosity of the poorly guarded nobility and merchants, but that was only a bonus to what she truly hoped to gain.
Pulling her brown hair up into a loose ponytail, she used the small mirror the inn provided to carefully prepare her Skyrim persona. It had become a well-rehearsed routine, the imagining of a new background, picking a new name, and developing a unique personality to match whatever situation she was about to put herself in. In the past she had acted the parts of a scholar, a priest, nobility, a begger, and even a dignitary or two. Each identity was chosen to complement her targets' weaknesses perfectly, taking advantages of the flaws that would make them blind to her con and leave them confused as to what happened long after she disappeared. It was no different than reading her opponents at a card table. Each new history she made up and each new life she created was just a more complex version of morphing her face into whatever look would most likely manipulate her opponents into failing to call her bluff. And if she was being modest, she had never met anyone better at the kind of thievery that could only be done through deceptions and ruses.
This time would be no different than the rest. She would recreate herself and come away with the one treasure she lacked. It didn't matter that the prize in Skyrim was one of the biggest she had ever set her sights on, in the end the job would be no different than her schemes in Morrowind or Cyrodiil; seamlessly easy with little risk of failure. All it would take is paying attention to the cards in her hand and making the right moves at the right time.
That was the true art of having a heist go smoothly, being able to perfectly anticipate her target's reactions and predict questions well before they were asked. Then it was a simple matter of allowing her character to respond in just the right manner, the poker face she created acting as flawless mask as every round of cards, every fold and hit bringing her closer to the jackpot. The key was knowing who you were playing against, and she had done her research well before ever entering the Nordic homeland.
She knew the Thieves Guild of Skyrim was weak and barely functioned outside of its home in Riften. She also knew that they were attempting to recruit with little luck. She had heard more than one rumor of thieves being captured or killed on even the simplest jobs during a time that should be ideal for plucking a few little heirlooms off the necks of rich ladies. It was pathetic, in her opinion, but then again it made her infiltration of their little network that much easier. So long as she didn't look too skilled or do anything that would raise too many questions about her background she would be fine. But that meant discarding her life as Aerin, the fierce and hardened thief from the Imperial City. Her armor, weapons, tools that marked her as a professional were replaced by a simple skirt and shirt, along with the doe-eyed look of optimistic youth.
Stepping back, she peered at her transformation. She had grown her sable hair long over the lasts few months from short and angular cut she had assumed during her time in Cyrodiil. She found that it softened the sharpness of her jaw and cheeks, making her look nearly ten years younger than her thirty years. She missed the strong and authoritative look her old style gave her Bosmer features, but unlike in the Waterfront District she was not in Riften to usurp control of the guild. Her plans in Skyrim were much simpler than that.
Adding a little gold powder to her tan skin to give it a youthful glow and some black to the long lashes that surrounded amber eyes. Testing out a look of mild disinterest, she couldn't the small smile that pulled at her lips.
"Hello, my name is Mandil," she tested, keeping her tone light. It was perfect. She looked nothing like an experienced thief and conman, but instead had transformed into a young Bosmer opportunist, seeking out fame or fortune in the rocky waters of Skyrim. With the right hand of cards, the thieves would welcome her into their ranks with barely a question of who or what she was, starting a high-stakes game that left the loser in ruin. Unfortunately for the Skyrim thieves, Syl always played with a rigged deck.