Aerin pants and rushes to keep up with me as I pound down the back alleys of Riften, my hammer swinging around on my back. When my friend finally catches up with me he wheezes, "Where are we going?". I don't bother answering, we arrive too soon for me to bother. The docks are full of people and boats. The new refugees and immigrants who've all decided to flee to Riften. Aerin stops beside me and I take the chance to look at him. His hair is a mess of brown twigs plastered to his skull, his brown eyes are becoming the color of mud, and his loose pale skin hangs from his body. I'm certain I don't look much better. My warpaint is smeared across my face, my own hair is likewise a tangled mess, and I've lost a decent amount of my muscles in the last few months.
Riften's hit an economic crash the likes of which nobody's ever seen. When Laila Law-Giver was forced from the city we were promised peace and prosperity by Jarl Maven Black-Briar. In reality those promises were nothing but thinly veiled lies. Maven's turned the city into her own personal paradise. Unfortunately, her 'paradise' is like a pit of Oblivion for everyone else. Our fields have been burned by raids, citizens have been forcibly kicked out of their homes, and the city's cleaning crew quit a long time ago. Aerin and I were one of the first to be kicked out of our home.
Now we're crammed into Beggar's Row with almost a quarter of the city. The actually beggars got kicked out of their 'home' a while ago by some of the bigger citizens. I opposed it as much as I could, but only death awaits a woman who tries to take on an entire city by herself. Besides, I didn't want Aerin to get hurt. He's already been financially wounded enough, he doesn't need and physical pains. Aerin's lost almost all of his money, and his business is in the crapper. I'm the only source of income we have. I've been lucky enough to get occasional odd jobs, but it's still not enough. We barely have money for food, luxuries like soap, new clothing, and medicine are completely out of our price range.
So, now Aerin and I reek like dead skeevers, our clothes are ancient and covered in a generous layer of filth, and if we get sick we're doomed to die. Aerin suddenly goes into a hacking hit. I lean forward to comfort him, but he waves me off. Once he's composed himself he assures me, "Fine. I'm fine.". I nod, but don't believe him in the slightest. He's had that cough for weeks, and I'm terrified it's settled in his bones. I need to get some money to pay for medicine and clothing. I pat my friend on the back and advise, "Go home and get some rest, I'm going to go look at the job board.". He nods and wishes me luck, then disappears.
The jobs are all posted by the main gate, so any immigrants coming into the city can see all the 'wonderful opportunities' that they have. Most of the jobs are asking for thugs to go beat someone or break something, so that eliminates those jobs. As I sort through them I can't help feeling how hopeless this all is. That's when I finally see a job I can do. From: Maven Black-Briar. Open: Anyone. A large herd(s) of cattle needs strong warriors to guide it to Markarth within the next three months. Only a hundred of the three thousand cows can be lost. Any over that comes out of the warriors pockets. A man to lead the herding party has already been hired, but four strong warriors are needed to help him (no more shall be accepted).
Each warrior is responsible for hundreds of cattle, and may only lose a few. The reward is thousands in gold, and the satisfaction of knowing you've helped your city. Contact Dagmvar Bear-Killed in the keep for more details. It sounds like a horrible job, but the sound of 'thousands in gold' is capturing me. All the other jobs offer roughly fifty gold a piece. I'd need to work for years to make a thousand gold. And, Arien's medicine is bound to cost more than I would make. This job is the only one that'll get me enough gold to buy his medicine, and have some left over.
I see that the ad was only posted a few days ago, so there's still a good chance I'll be able to get the job. I hate Maven, but I wouldn't mind taking her gold. I quickly rush to the keep, swimming through the crowd of people that swarm Riften's streets. When I reach the keep I see Asbjorn Fire-Tamer and Valindor waiting outside. I approach them and Asbjorn asks, "You here for the job?". When I nod he smiles and says, "Good. We're just waiting for 'Dagmvar' to come outside and see if we're what he's looking for.". Valindor adds, "It'll be good to have you with us.". I remind them, "None of us have gotten the job yet.". Valindor nods, but assures me, "No matter what happens to us, you're definitely getting the job. Maven may not like you, but she'd be a fool to turn you down. You're strong enough to carry a cow.".
I brush off his comment. "Trust me, my muscles aren't what they once were. I'll need a few good meals and push-ups before I'm back to normal.". Our conversation is stopped by a thin, short, greasy man with yellow eyes coming out of the keep. He looks at us and seems to hiss, "You three here for the herding job?". All three of us nod and Dagmvar comes closer. He looks at Asbjorn and wheezes, "What do you do?". Asbjorn straightens his back and proudly says, "I'm a smith.".
The greasy man goes 'hmm' and questions, "How much can you lift?". The blacksmith shrugs and answers, "Enough that I haven't hurt my back carry smith supplies.". Dagmvar squints, chews his lip, and finally answers the man. "You're in. Just be ready to shoe our horses if the need arises.". He slinks over to Valindor. "What do you do?". The Bosmer looks like shit, but still manages to puff himself up as he proclaims, "I'm a hunter. Eagle-eyed and swift as the wind. I can shoot any predator before it even gets near the herd.". The small man looks slightly impressed, but assures him, "Be ready to hunt in case our food runs low.". He walks over to me.
The small man cranes his neck back, and when he sees my face he swallows. "You're in. If a cow gets stuck in the mud, then you and I both know who's getting it out.". I nod. Dagmvar climbs up the steps and commands us, "Meet me back here in an hour or two. Get your things together and say your goodbyes. The second we get a fourth warrior we're leaving. I'll explain how this is going to work when all the spots are filled.". Valindor, Asbjorn, and I all walk away from the keep, but all of us have a new spring in our steps. We've done what's become nearly impossible. We've found good paying jobs that won't require us to hack someone's head off.
I find Arien huddled up in Beggar's Row, a bowl of some disgusting soup in his hands. As I sit down beside him an eyeball floats to the top and I realize it's fish. My friend takes a moment to scoop some soup into his mouth, then puts the bowl down and turns to me. "Did you find any jobs?". I nod and explain, "It'll require me to leave for a few months, but it'll get me more gold than you could ever imagine. We might even be able to get our house back.". Arien smiles, but I see he's highly concerned. "What am I going to do while you're gone?". I shrug and promise, "It'll be fine. You're smart and strong, you'll be able to find some jobs. If nothing else you can go try to find some treasure in the dump. Sell it for a profit and whatnot.".
Arien looks terrified of the idea of not having me, but there's absolutely no way I can take him with me. The ad wanted 'strong warriors' not 'someone who follows a strong warrior'. I pat my friend on the leg and tell him, "I need to get going. Is there any food or supplies I can take with me?". I know it's cruel to steal from the mouth of a starving man, but I need to pull my weight on this trip. Even a little food to add to our supplies will help the entire group, and the warriors will need it more than him. Arien searches around in our belongings and hands a few items to me.
A small rusted dagger, half a loaf of hard bread, and a shriveling apple. I thank my friend, say my final goodbye, and leave. Staying would only make it harder. When I arrive at the keep I find Valindor and Asbjorn standing there, and it appears they have company. A extremely tiny, scarred, and well-muscled Khajiit is standing beside them. Her dark brown tabby fur gleams in the light, showing off the layer of dirt that's clinging to her. Her pelt is unusually long and thick, but it's patchy, matted, and ragged. Her long spine looks uncomfortable, but at least the woman has a sturdy body. The Khajiit hears me approaching and turns, giving me a better view of her.
She's extremely small, but somehow has broad shoulders. At least she has that going for her. I'm almost standing beside her, but I slow down at the sight of her bright amber eyes that never seem to blink. Her hands twitch and I notice her long, thorn-sharp claws. When I freeze the woman flicks her ears back a little and offers me a small smile. I can't tell if it's meant to be intimidating or comforting. Her sharp yellow teeth are shattered in some places, and from the way she holds her jaw it's clear it's paining her. Her scarred, broad, flat face is far from attractive, and it's clear she's been in more than one fight during her life. Her torn ears can testify for that. The final touch is a bend in the middle of her tail.
I mentally snarl at myself for freezing up at the sight of this woman. From the looks of it she's an immigrant. Being a stranger in a new place is a terrifying experience, and having everyone looking at you just makes it worse. Besides, she looks like a decent warrior. Well, no. She doesn't. Her light armor is the darkest I've ever seen, but light enough she'll disappear into the shadows. And, a hood attached to her belt gives me a good idea of what she did before coming to Skyrim.
The dagger sticking out of her boot confirms it. A shadow walker. An assassin who creeps up on people and slits their throats when they aren't looking. However, she deserves a chance to go with us. Having a sneaker in the group might be useful. In fact, it could be a huge advantage. I make a solemn vow to myself. I'll assist this woman in her quest to come with us. That is, if the chance ever presents itself to me. She's an immigrant who needs money, and she's willing to work. That should be all that matters. Dagmvar appears and questions, "Who in oblivion is this?". Well, looks like the chance has presented itself. Now it's just up to me.