"How do I get to Whiterun from here?" Isobel drank some tea that Ralof had made to help her hangover, and it was working remarkably well. They were underneath a large pine tree behind Gerdur's house. Isobel knew that the road to Riften was far and she was still very exhausted from traveling, hence the idea of catching a carriage was extremely appealing.

"It's about a days journey just following the road north. You can't miss it, it's the capital of Whiterun Hold." Ralof said, leaning against the tree. "Jarl Bulgruuf still hasn't declared for one side or the other, so at least you won't run into any Imperials along the way. And you might want to hurry, Gerdur's already at the mill but if comes back she won't be happy to see you."

"Gods, what did I do last night. My family always had parties where there was dancing and music and fights and...everything. I thought Nords would be rowdier still." Isobel said as she pulled grass out of the ground, sitting cross-legged. As sorry as she was she couldn't help but feel a little frustrated. With all the hardship she had to face the past few weeks getting piss drunk was something she would've thoroughly appreciated.

"Well, most Nords are. Just not the ones with children and a town to run."

"Ah." Isobel nodded.

"I'm going to be heading off for Windhelm tomorrow, I need to get back to the field. This land isn't going to free itself." Ralof continued with a sigh.

"Are you sure you're fighting the right people?" Isobel asked before sipping more of her tea. A fire ignited in Ralof's eyes.

"The Empire might've been good for Skyrim once, but since they bowed to the Aldermi Dominion they've shamed us all. People have been dragged from their beds at night and killed, just for worshipping their own gods! The Thalmor are trying to destroy all our culture and traditions, so that we could be like them, and the Empire permits it!"

"Why aren't you guys fighting the Aldermi Dominion then? Why the Empire? You know they're trying to avoid another Great War by keeping that White-Gold Concordant, even if it's at a great cost. I'm sure if the Nords started revolting against the actual Thalmor some of the other provinces, maybe even Cyrodiil, would find the courage to fight too. Trust me, Skyrim isn't the only place being massacred, have you heard what they do in Valenwood?" Isobel wasn't into politics so much as she was into playing devil's advocate, and seeing Ralof think hard with furrowed brows was rewarding to her.

"I follow Ulfric." He stated. "He knows the way of war more than I, and I trust him. He's the only one to stand among us and fight for our people. I'll follow him into Sovengarde if I must." Isobel couldn't help but roll her eyes, nothing like blind followers to ruin a country. But then again, the reason she fled to Skyrim in the first place was because of the civil unrest, so maybe she could be a bit more grateful people were killing each other.

"Well, I'm heading off." Isobel said standing up. She handed Ralof his cup and looked up into his eyes. "You saved my life, you probably had a better chance of surviving than me, and you took me under your wing. So thank you. I'll remember this. I only wish I had something to give you in return." Ralof put his hand on her shoulder and it slumped under its weight.

"May we met again, friend. Good luck out there."

And with that she started off. She was half down the road when she turned and shouted, "I'm sorry for being a bitch last night!"

Frodnar and Dorthe happened to be nearby and started giggling and whispering to each other. Ralof couldn't help but smirk.

At the mill, Hod watched the woman cross the stone bridge towards the north, Gerdur caught him staring.

"Don't think you could ever pull what she did last night. You want to get drunk, go to a different town. If the townspeople saw you they'd lose respect-"

"Aw calm down Miss Riverwood. Whatever happened to the woman I knew who could gulp down five pints and still beat me in a fight?" Hod said. Gerdur frowned at him, but as she turned her back she broke into a smile.

27th of Last Seed

Although Bjorlam was an absolute delight to travel with, by the fifth day of trekking across the stunning Skyrim landscape and listening to his stories Isobel was beyond ready to be at their destination. She was tired of traveling, and the closer they got to Riften the more desperate she was to be done journeying.

Not to mention how expensive hiring his carriage was. She had to spend an extra day pickpocketing and nicking gold around Whiterun to accumulate enough, and she had promised not to do any thieving until she was in her new Guild.

Her Guild, Isobel missed it so painfully already. As Bjorlam told tale after tale of giving rides to hagravens and daedra and all sorts of crazy characters, Isobel found herself often holding the sealed letter she had to watch being written through tears. Isobel clutched the letter to her chest, feeling horribly homesick and missing her Guild family.

'Please don't let me be here long.'

It was well past sunset the next evening when they arrived at the Riften Gates. Isobel was ecstatic, she enjoyed Bjorlam's company but was getting stiff and wanting to find the place she'd call home for Gods know how long. She didn't even know where to start looking, and she imagined it wouldn't be simple finding a major crime organization.

"Thank you so much, Bjorlam." Isobel said as she jumped off the carriage.

"Anytime dear, I hope we meet again!" Bjorlam smiled as he went to unharness his horse and lead it to the stables. Isobel marched up to the gates and walked right into the chest of a guard that stepped in front of her.

"Hold there." He said in a low voice. "Before I let you into Riften, you'll have to pay the Visitor's Tax."

"What for?" Isobel scoffed, that seemed ridiculous. But then again, Whiterun was turning away folks because of a dragon scare.

"For the privilege of entering our city. What does it matter?" Even though the Riften guard's uniform included a helmet that covered his face, it was painfully obvious to Isobel that the guard was fishing for a few more extra coins. There was just a subtle hesitation before he spoke, and seemed to come off too defensive.

"Aw, sorry buddy but this is obviously a shakedown." Isobel laughed and patted his arm. As a fellow thief she admired his guts even though he needed to improve his lying skill.

"Alright! Keep your voice down...do you want everyone to hear you? I'll let you in, just let me unlock the gate." He flinched, looking around anxiously. There was another guard there, but she was apparently in on the gig.

"Welcome to Riften traveler, home of the Thieves Guild." She spoke from underneath her helmet. "Or so they'd have you believe. It's all lies. They're just thugs... vermin, creeping around underneath the city." Isobel was confused if the woman guard was a thief downplaying the Guild to tourists to make them underestimate them, or if she genuinely thought the Guild was just a bunch of scum.

"Gate's unlocked. You can head on in whenever you're ready." The male guard said, a touch of frustration in the voice.

"Thanks. And next time, say it's because you're collecting money for the Temple. People love charity." Isobel waved as she closed the gate behind her.

Her grin vanished as she turned and looked into the city and down the street. The air was grey and hazy for some indiscernible reason, and smelled like moist dirt and moss. And it was dark. Darker than cities ought to be at night. Isobel slowly started to put one foot in front of the other, nervously walking down a stone path with housing lining each side, further ahead she could see a large building with a light illuminating its sign and knew it must be the Inn.

"Careful." A guard said behind her, making her jump violently. "Riften's not the safest place to take a night-time stroll." He continued walking past her, as if he simply had said a greeting instead of something so ominous. Isobel's heart started to slow after a few breaths before she heard a whisper nearby.

"Psst!" Isobel peered into the darkness, her eyes adjusting. A man in full steel armor was leaning on a post with crossed arms, his dark hair and eyes even deeper than the shadows surrounding him.

"I don't know you. You in Riften looking for trouble?" He growled.

"I'm just passing through." Isobel shrugged and tried turning away.

"Hey!" He hissed and she froze. "There's something you have to know if you're gonna be spendin' any time here. The Black-Briars? They have Riften in their pocket and the Thieves Guild watchin' their back, so keep your nose out of their business." Isobel frowned, what was this man talking about? "Me? I'm Maul. I watch the streets for 'em. If you need dirt on anythin', I'm your guy... but it'll cost you."

Isobel thought hard. If this man, Maul, was affiliated with people who affiliated with the Thieves Guild, she might be able to ask him valuable information on how to find them without him ratting her out to guards.

"I want to know where to find the Thieves Guild." Isobel said assertively, feeling confident now that she knew where she stood in the conversation.

"You heard. You want the dirt, pay up."

"Dirt, huh...? Well, I'm not exactly clean myself..." Isobel said, slowly untying the strings in the front of her dress. Maul grinned.

"Then we're speaking the same language. Good. What do you want to know."

"Do you know anything about the Thieves Guild?" Isobel asked, keeping the front of dress open but still covering her breasts.

"You kiddin'? My brother Dirge works in their hideout. I used to run with them myself, but took a job with Maven after they started hittin' a rough patch. If you want to get in on that action, find Brynjolf in the marketplace. I'm sure he could use someone like you, in more ways than one." Maul chuckled, moving forward and reaching out. Isobel put her hand on his chest and stopped him.

"Trust me, I'm pretty sure you're too big, one can't afford to be walking bow-legged in these dangerous times." Isobel said coyly as a violent look appeared on Maul's face. "But don't worry, maybe after a few dinners and a moonlit stroll something might bloom." Isobel thought of how twilight felt in the Imperial City and not Riften, how the darkening sky made the world quiet and calm instead of scary, and reached up to stroke his rugged cheek. As soon as her hand made contact his eyes softened and teeth unclenched.

"Sounds lovely." He said. "I'll see you around. Be safe. Riften isn't friendly, during the day or night." He smiled foolishly as Isobel's hand stopped glowing green.