Chapter one: An opportunity
Our story begins some 10 years after the return of the Dragonborn, in the far north of the province of Skyrim. As you all know, there had been a civil war between the Empire and the Stormcloaks that resulted in the Empire's expulsion from that particular region. Slowly, the already unstable Empire shrunk into its native province of Cyrodill, most of its military losing any significant footholds they had in the neighboring territories. Uprising after uprising had rendered the once-mighty fist of the Empire weak, and slowly, it plunged into an inevitable state of complete chaos. Eventually, The Imperial City, the very heart of the monarchy, burned to the ground as a result of sabotage. Thousands died and almost a million were left homeless. And so the Empire's demise continued until, finally, in E3 455, it dissolved into a series of military holdouts and protected villages.
There hadn't been an Imperial presence in Skyrim for almost a decade now, the entire province run on a series of shaky trading agreements and diplomatic treaties, most of them broken on a daily basis. The different clans and holds warred with each other every single day, the jarls turning a blind eye on the people's suffering. The High King was powerless, the endless conflicts rendering him little more than a simple puppet of the council. He saw the suffering but could not help. The people did not understand. Calls of revolution and abdication came from all across the land. The jarls hated the people and the people hated the jarls. It was simple, yet immensely complicated.
But none of this mattered to the people of the northernmost village in all of Skyrim. They were fairly content with going about their daily business, quietly fishing in the great fjords of the north or silently mining the many deposits of precious metals that lay strewn about. The only time any politics were brought up was when the trading caravans arrived, with news from the south. Even then, almost no-one cared for the rest of the world. The village was warm, they had food and they were fairly happy with their position, or rather, the lack of one. All the villagers were happy, or so it seemed.
All but one, that is. Khanii had been trapped here, as far north as possible, ever since she was born. The poor girl's parents were the only Khajiit farmers in the entire province and they had been living in what she called "frozen hell" for some time now. Her father had escaped the troubled and divided land of Elsweyr when he was a boy. Khanii's grandfather, a master swordsman and smith, was a fervent supporter of the Empire. That was not exactly a good thing in the desert land he called home so, in fear for his own life and the lives of his family, he ran. And, for some reason, he didn't stop running until he reached the most distant and desolate place on Nirn. Even though he was dead for some time now, Khanii hated him.
The lonely girl spent most of her days in the town's tavern, trading what little coin she had for mead and song. Even though she looked happy on the surface, deep inside she yearned for a different life, a life of adventure, danger and excitement. And so, the days passed, the boats came in and out, selling goods from the exotic lands that lay far beyond the confines of the little village. When she was young, Khanii would climb on board the ships, sneak into the cargo bay and simply stare at the wares they brought in. She felt that they had everything you needed and some more. Piles of troll skulls, barrels of dragon ash and other interesting items littered the cramped spaces beneath the wooden decks. Initially, she wanted to become a trader but her father had decided otherwise. If she didn't get out quickly, she knew that her entire life would revolve around fishing, farming and drinking.
That leads us to the faithful day that changed everything. The day that Khanii became a legend, an inspiration to thieves everywhere. It began just like any other day. The hapless girl woke up before sunrise, fed the chickens, tended to the fields and did the rest of her chores. It was hard, unsatisfying work but it had to be done, or otherwise, they would have nothing to eat in the upcoming months. The long hard winter was rolling in, snow falling every single day, all day. The town crier called noon. Fishing boats started pulling in; amidst the smattering of wooden hulls lay her father's vessel, old and proud. Khanii descended from the farm she called home, located on a hill just above the town and strode slowly to the docks. The men already began the unloading process, stacking the crates of fish high. As always, the Khajiit girl leaned onto the trading office, her eyes flying over today's catch. Khanii had not eaten anything the whole day and her stomach gnawed with hunger. She did not want to steal anything from her father so instead, she chose to target one of the other fishing crews.
Slowly, carefully, she went into a crouch and ducked behind a pile of hay. On the other side lay the "Duchess of Korvasluund", the biggest and most heavily manned fishing boat in the village. Its massive crew had been unloading the cargo for several minutes now and already, the crates of brilliant, fresh fish lay neatly stacked on top of each other, every single one of the shiny creatures making Khanii's mouth water. She could hardly wait to dig into one of them. Silently, she emerged from her hiding place, hood draped over her head, a distinct desire for thievery burning in her jade eyes. With a single swift, long-practiced move, she jumped up, sprinted to one of the boxes and snatched a fish. Slowly, she retreated back into her little hole and crouched down again, Khanii's heart beating so heavily that she thought it might jump out of her chest.
After making sure that no-one saw her, she dug in, her teeth greedily tearing into the raw meat. Freshly-caught fish was her favorite and the fact that it had been stolen only made it tastier. When she was done, she went back to her father's boat and helped him unload the rest of the cargo. she spent the next two hours carrying the crates up and down, trough the village and into the farm's storage rooms. More hapless, unrewarding work. Stealing and thievery made her feel alive, it made her feel…wild. Sometimes, she stole coin from the random passer-by's, none of them noticing a damned thing. Khanii had become such a practiced thief that she could steal the key off someone's keyring
With the final box loaded into the farmhouse, Khanii locked the glorified wooden shed, "picked" her pay up and went to the tavern. Khanii knew that path so well that she was sure her feet made grooves in the ground. "The Lucky Sailor" was empty, as usual. A small group of guards was off duty, their rowdy and drunken cries increasing Khanii's lust for mead and maybe, something more. She made her way past the boiling pots and the empty tables, the barmaid greeting her from afar. Without a word, the maid slid a flagon over the counter, comfortably landing it right in Khanii's paws. Khanii left a small pile of gold coins on the wooden surface and walked away. From the corner of her eye, she could see the Nord woman smiling as she collected the gold. Just you smile, thought Khanii, by the end of the night I will steal it back and then double it.
Her table was waiting for her, in the far corner of the wooden shack, empty as usual. With a sigh, she slumped down onto the wooden bench and took a long swig of mead. It warmed and relaxed her, the alcohol rushing through her veins. In her tipsy stupor, she didn't even notice the man who had been sitting across from her, one of his golden teeth glowing from the shadows. Slowly, he leaned forward and tapped Khanii on the shoulder. She jumped slightly.
"Whoa there" said the man calmly, his voice almost a whisper "Didn't mean to startle you"
"Wh…who are you?" asked the frightened girl, her eyes locked on his. Instead of saying anything, the man dropped a paper onto the table and slid it towards the girl, who looked at it sheepishly. Her scared demeanor quickly turned cocky, and she put the flagon onto the table.
"Easy" she said in a thick, Imperial accent "He's so drunk he won't notice a damn thing. I'll meet you outside in a moment."
Khanii turned around and looked at her mark again. He was a tall, moderately muscular man with fair hair, his physique shaking with the waves of drunken laughter. She knew that the guards who came in here after the shift change rarely left sober. For some time now, Khanii had been stealing gold from these mead-loving fools. That gave her confidence that she would never be caught in the act. Most of them were hung-over during the day and not capable of spotting anything, not even the most obvious of things.
Khanii turned around again with more questions than answers but the man had disappeared. His gold tooth was nowhere to be found in the darkness. Perhaps he was still there, without the desire to be seen. No, thought Khanii, not even he's that good. She got out of her seat, her tail swishing behind her as she walked over to her mark. The mead hall consisted of one tall, brightly lit room with a series of furnaces along the middle, effectively dividing the building in half. Thankfully, the other seats had not been occupied so she was free to move around and sneak as she pleased. Khanii stopped for a moment and looked up. The roof was held aloft by a number of webbed and intertwined wooden beams. If she wanted to, she could use her claws to climb up the pillars on the sides and…
Her thought process had been cut short by another burst of drunken laughter, the men's roar booming trough the empty building. She closed her eyes and mapped the room carefully. The most obvious and most dangerous way of stealing the sword was to crouch directly behind the man, out of sight, and take it. That's it, she thought, the man's back would be ample cover. She started walking once again, slower than last time, before crouching down. Carefully, she approached the guard's back and stopped. Standing still for a moment, she probed for any sign of detection, a short gap in the roaring laughter perhaps or a sudden silence.
Nothing.
They were still telling the same dirty jokes. So far so good, she thought. Her dexterous fingers made their way across the sword's sheath.
Rough, battered, cold. Precisely what she expected.
Slowly, she grabbed the sword's handle and pulled, very lightly at first. It came loose, producing no sound what so ever. Another careful tug and it was halfway out. The man moved and she stopped for a moment. Immediately, the guard swung his head backwards and emptied another flagon of mead. Khanii sighed with relief. The blithering idiot saw nothing and heard nothing. Another swift firm tug and the sword popped out. She snatched it by the blade and pulled it inside her coat. The metal was cold against her fur but she did not make a single sound, not even a yelp of surprise.
She turned around and stood up, casually walking over to her table. The men suddenly stopped laughing, something that Khanii immediate notice of. A cold sweat ran down her back.
Oh, no. Not like this.
One man stood up and put his helmet on. Slowly, Khanii turned around, her paw on the handle of the stolen sword, ready to strike.
"Hey, you" Khanii looked up "Yes, I'm talking to you Khajiit"
Dead silence reigned over the mead hall, eyes pointed at Khanii, her brow furrowing, her grasp on the sword tightening. She swore under her breath. Time seemed slowed, everything around her passing through a thick, viscous liquid.
"No lollygagging"
The men erupted into another bout of roaring laughter, all of them patting the one who stood up on the back. Offers of free mead flew around and the fool took every single one of them. Khanii felt relief, her chest muscles loosening up again. She passed her table victoriously, grabbing her mead with her free hand, and downed the entire flagon in one gulp. An explosion of joy and happiness ran through her, the pounding of her heart reminding her that she was alive, now more than ever.
Khanii opened the door and stepped out into the cold polar air. A dark figure stood outside, leaning onto the wooden pillars on the terrace, looking out towards the sea. She tapped him on the back and he jumped slightly. First, he looked at her and noticed her content smile. One side of his mouth sprang up. Secondly, he noticed the small iron sword that she held in her hand, the handle pointed at him. The second corner of his mouth jumped up, revealing a sly, content smile. He was right after all.
"Welcome to the thieves guild"