Nobody batted an eyelash when Kara walked into the crowded Bee and Barb, soaked from head to toe. In fact, nobody seemed to notice her at all, too busy pushing tables together for people to dance on. Grateful, she hurried up to her room to change into her only other set of clothes: a cream-colored off-the-shoulder tunic, a wool bodice, a and another pair of warm brown pants. There was nothing she could do about her hair except rub it dry with her blanket, before hanging that up to dry with her sopping clothes. Clothes clinging to her damp skin, boots still drenched, she had no choice but to walk back downstairs barefoot.

The first people who noticed her were a couple standing beside the stairs. The man was Imperial, by the looks of him, short and weedy with thin lips and sandy hair that fell below his ears. Beside him was a tall Nord woman with golden hair and a wide stripe of blue warpaint covering the left side of her face. She had a massive axe strapped to her back. At the sight of it, Kara halted at the bottom of the stairs.

The Nord woman smiled kindly at her, as though she wasn't carrying around an enormous weapon for cleaving heads in two. "My, what happened to you? Is it raining outside?"

Kara frowned. "No, I uh…took an unfortunate tumble into the canal." Courtesy of Brynjolf, the bastard.

The woman wrinkled her nose. "That explains the smell." Still, she laughed good-naturedly. "I'm Mjoll. They call me the Lioness. This is my friend, Aerin."

"Wait," Aerin said, eyes widening. "You're the woman from earlier! Kara Dragonsbane!"

Kara tried not to roll her eyes, reminding herself she needed to talk to them both. "Uh, yeah, well-met, you two. I've actually been looking for you!"

They exchanged an awed, surprised look.

"Us?" Aerin asked. "But why?"

A blush suddenly tinted Mjoll's cheeks. "I've actually been looking for you as well. I saw you kill that dragon. It was…unlike anything I've ever seen."

Kara waved her hand impatiently. "Yeah, yeah, the dragon, old news. Look, Keerava told me you talked to that girl who came through her recently." Kara held a hand up several inches below the top of her head. "She's about yea high, blonde hair, blue eyes. Looks about fifteen or sixteen."

Mjoll nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, the nice young girl from Ivarstead."

"Ivarstead?"

"Yes, she said that's where she was from. She'd walked the entire way here in the pouring rain, poor girl. We only wanted to offer her some company and see if she needed any help."

Ivarstead, huh? "What else did she say?"

They exchanged another look.

"Well," Aerin said, looking uncomfortable. "She asked us about the Thieves Guild. Said she was looking for Delvin Mallory."

Mjoll growled in the back of her throat. "Damn him, and the Thieves Guild. They're what's wrong with this city; them and Maven Black-Briar. We warned her away, didn't we, Aerin?"

He nodded. "Told her to stay away, to go back home to her family."

Kara stared at a place on the wall behind them, suddenly cold. "And what did she say?"

"She got kind of quiet, and said she couldn't. She sounded sad." Mjoll's expression softened. "I didn't want to pry, but I got the feeling she had no family to go back to."

That doesn't make any sense. Looking up, Kara nodded. "Okay, thanks."

Mjoll watched her for a second, her eyes appraising. "Are you going to take her home?"

"If everything goes according to plan, yeah."

"Good. No child should be in Riften, no matter what they're running from. You'll take care of her, right?"

I always have. Kara thanked them both before wandering through the crowd. She no longer heard the laughter or music, lost in her head. Dammit, Eiri. Why the Thieves Guild? What are you up to?

If she tried really hard, Kara could remember the last time she'd seen Eiri. It was three years before; Kara had been sixteen, Eiri twelve. They'd been having a snowball fight running through the streets of Bruma. If she closed her eyes, it was like she was still there: the cold wet bite through her damp fur gloves; Eiri's ceaseless giggling, her nose and cheeks red from the cold; the bells of the Great Chapel of Talos ringing above them, around them. It had been a magical afternoon, until they ran back to Kara's aunt and uncle's house to find Kara's father sitting at the table, smiling at her, like it hadn't been two years since she'd seen him last.

He was always like that, Kara remembered. There when I didn't want him, gone when I needed him.

Suddenly tired and more than slightly overwhelmed, Kara made her way back towards Keerava. I need sugar. The Argonian woman was too busy yelling at two men brawling to notice as she swiped a sweetroll from the bar, biting into it morosely as she wandered back upstairs.

She ate her sweetroll at the open window, staring out at the wreckage of the marketplace. She'd only been there one day and already there needed to be massive construction done on the city. She watched as guards and laborers both dismantled the dragon bones, dragging them off to Talos-knows-where. It took ten men to lift the skull, and even then they had difficulty.

Licking the frosting off her fingers, Kara thought of all the names swirling around in her head, all the people she'd spoken to that day. The Thieves Guild and Maven Black-Briar were the common theme, but where did Eiri fit in? She'd always been a sweet girl, more careful and cautious where Kara was wild and rambunctious. She was afraid of bugs, large animals, and thunderstorms; how was it that, at the tender age of fifteen, she could up and leave, running away not only to a country she'd never been before, but a city full of thugs? Unless that was the intent. With the new mention of Delvin Mallory – another connection to the Guild – it certainly seemed that way.

But why, why, why?

I'll ask Brynjolf tonight, she decided, crawling onto the bed, laying on it without the blanket, still fully clothed. Somebody knows…

After sleeping restlessly throughout the afternoon and evening, Kara rose at eleven that night to an uneasy feeling. The air pouring in her window felt too stale, the city too quiet. Unable to shake it, she opted to dress in the sleek leather armor she'd stashed beneath her bed, strapping her bow and quiver to her back. Better safe than sorry.

As quietly as she could, she tiptoed down the stairs to the common area of the Bee and Barb. Keerava wasn't behind the bar, and it was empty. The place stank of mead and sweat, the candles burning down to stubs of melted wax on tables. Kara made a note to maybe clean up, to thank Keerava, if she wasn't busy and there were no dragons later, something she had no way of predicting. Still, she felt slightly better as she stole out into the night.

Shrine of Talos. She remembered seeing it earlier that day when she'd gone walking around in the dawn chill. That's by the graveyard. Setting off, she crossed one of the bridges over the canal, only to stumble upon a familiar figure shaking a finger in a Redguard's face.

"…next time, keep your plans quieter and nothing would have happened to it."

The Redguard man looked stricken as Kara approached. "What? Are you telling me you robbed it? Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

Sapphire folded her arms over her chest. Her back was to Kara. "Look, Shadr, last warning: pay up or else. All I care about is the gold. Everything else is your problem."

"I don't mean to interrupt," Kara drawled, standing between the two of them. "But do either of you know where the Shrine of Talos is? See, I'm new in town and—"

"Gods," Shadr remarked, gaping. "You're that woman who killed the dragon."

"You," Sapphire snarled, unfolding her arms and clenching her fists. "I thought I told you to keep your nose out of my business."

"Yeah, and I thought I made it clear that I'm not scared of you." Kara glanced at the man beside them. "Shadr, is it?"

He nodded.

"Why don't you go ahead and go home?"

"But—"

"I wasn't asking." Kara paused. "Okay, technically I was, but I didn't mean it to sound that way. Look, just get out of here, okay? Damn, there I go asking again. Let me try again." She cleared her throat. "Go home, Shadr. How was that?"

"Um. Forceful?"

"Good. Now go home!"

He nodded and scurried away.

Sapphire watched him go before laughing mirthlessly and shaking her head. "What is it with you? Who gave you the right to just come in here and insert yourself in everyone's affairs?"

Well, definitely not Maul. "I'm not inserting myself into anything, that I know of. I just wanted to ask you some questions."

"What? No." Sapphire looked around, almost nervously.

Kara grabbed her arm. "Yes, actually. You were seen talking to a young girl several days ago. Blonde hair, blue eyes, about fifteen. You remember?"

"No. Let go of me." Sapphire jerked away, but Kara dug her fingers in.

"Bullshit! What did you say to her?"

"What do you care? Who is she?"

"Someone I care about very much, and if I find out that she's been hurt because of you, I will not hesitate to kill you." Kara lowered her voice conspiratorially. "You saw what I did to a dragon. Just imagine what I could do to you."

"All right, all right, ease up! I heard her tell those idiots Mjoll and Aerin that she was looking for Delvin Mallory. I know him, told her I could arrange a meeting. I told her to meet me down by the Ratway in the middle of the night, that I'd take her to him."

"What's the Ratway?"

"Sewers, below the city. It's where all the shady people can be found."

"People like you? Like Mallory?" Sapphire nodded. "Who is he, anyway?"

"He's…an accomplice of mine. Influential. Knows people."

"That tells me absolutely nothing."

"Look, I'd take you down there if I could, but I already got my ass reamed for bringing her."

"Where is she now?"

Sapphire avoided her gaze. "I don't know."

"Liar!"

Kara tried to adjust her grip, but Sapphire pulled free. Before she could throw an arm up, the woman spun and punched her right in the face. Kara went down to one knee, hands up at her face. She didn't need to open her eyes to know Sapphire had gotten away; the sound of retreating footsteps was enough.

Blood was leaking through her fingers when she managed to stand up. She took an experimental breath through her nose, but only ended up inhaling blood. She coughed and spit it out, pinching the bridge of her nose and walking unsteadily to the Shrine of Talos.

She was doubled over, throwing up blood, when Brynjolf arrived ten minutes later.

"Well, it's nice to see you dry again – Gods, lass, what happened to you?" He made sure to avoid the puddle of sweetroll and blood as he hurried over.

She briefly entertained the idea of punching him for pushing her into the canal, but suddenly she heaved again. After a moment, she stood up straight, wiping her mouth on the back of one bare hand. "A badly planned interrogation of a rather rude woman by the name of Sapphire."

"Ah, yeah, Sapphire can be that way. She has a tongue that would cut a tree in a single stroke."

Kara assumed that was bad, but she didn't care enough to ask. Instead, she tilted her head back slightly so he could see, crossing her eyes to look at her nose. "Does this look broken to you?"

"'Fraid so. Here, let me—"

He grabbed her nose and twisted. It snapped back into place with a pop and a flash of blinding pain. Kara's knees wobbled again, and she bent over, cursing under her breath.

"Ugh," she said, standing once more. "You son of a – you are some kind of—" She couldn't think of anything horrible enough, so she just left it to his imagination.

Brynjolf folded his arms, waiting, looking more amused than anything. "Finished?"

"Fuck you."

"Look, I'll buy you a bottle of mead the next time I'm at the Bee and Barb to make up for it."

"Throw in a honey nut treat, and you got yourself a deal." She gingerly touched her nose, sniffling. "Gah, okay. I think I'm okay now." For the first time since earlier, she got a good look at him. He was no longer wearing the fancier clothes he had been earlier, instead wearing worn, dark leather with lots of buckles and pockets. She couldn't help admiring that much storage space, before realizing he was talking.

"…you might want to visit the Temple of Mara just in case. There's a healer there who can fix you up better than me."

She shook her head, wiping some of the leftover blood off her face. "Nah, I'll pass. Temples and I don't mix, not since I got caught with my pants down in the Undercroft back in Bruma."

Brynjolf raised an eyebrow. "Care to favor me with the story?"

"Not really. Didn't we come here to discuss things?"

"'Course. You've got a sharp eye, lass." She snorted, wincing and feeling her nose again, but he went on. "It's a good quality in a woman."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get to the point, shall we?" She jabbed a finger in his direction. "I need information, and you're going to give it to me."

He leaned against the statue of Talos, like he had all the time in the world. "Fair enough. When you tell me how it is that you can face a dragon, and still be alive."

She shrugged. "Lots of practice?"

"Unless you're over hundreds of years old, that doesn't seem likely. But there has been some interesting rumors of late…"

"Oh? Concerning what?"

"The Dragonborn."

There's that word again. "Oh yeah, I heard something about that. Legendary fighter or something like that. Wonder who it could be."

Brynjolf's green eyes glinted in the darkness. "I wonder. You, perhaps?"

"Me?" Kara laughed, but it sounded forced, even to her ears. "That's crazy."

Brynjolf straightened, crossing the distance between them. "I'll tell you what's crazy, lass. Watching a girl looking like she's barely old enough to be out on her own standing on top of a well in the middle of a city and yelling taunts up at a dragon, and then killing it moments later."

"For your information, I'm nearly twenty. Besides, anyone can kill a dragon. It's not difficult, especially with good ol' Crow's-Eye." She reached back and patted her bow lovingly.

"But not everyone can do what you did afterwards."

"Oh, right. That."

It was like Whiterun all over again. She had shot the dragon out of the sky with the Jarl's housecarl, Irileth, and the guards. Just when she thought her problems were over and she could leave, it started glowing and the wind picked up, just like earlier, and then suddenly something was in her, something golden and warm, twisting around the base of her spine, waiting for her to breathe life into it.

She waved her hand. "That was nothing."

"You took its soul."

"So? What's the big deal?"

Brynjolf made a tch noise in the back of his throat. "Well, young girl who seems to be the Dragonborn aside, why is this so-called Dragonborn in Riften?"

"That's what I wanted to ask you about. I'm looking for a girl. She would be new to Riften, from Ivarstead. Young, younger than me, with blonde hair—"

"And blue eyes. Yes, I know."

Kara frowned. "How?"

"She was in the marketplace today."

"Yes! I saw her, and then she ran. Look, I need to find her. I've been talking to people, and apparently she was looking for Delvin Mallory."

"She found him. He's in the Ragged Flagon."

Kara blinked. "The what now?"

"It's a tavern down in the Ratway. What do you want with her?"

"She's family. I—"

"Family, huh? She never mentioned you."

Kara shook her head, puzzled. "Wait, you talked to her?"

"Well, of course! Why do you think she was in the marketplace today? She was running a job with me."

Kara's world slowed on its axis. Running. A. Job. No, that couldn't be right. Eiri was a sweet little girl, and she was in Riften running from something horrible, hoping this Delvin Mallory could help her. It wasn't that – she couldn't be – no.

Yet, when she looked up at Brynjolf's face, she knew it was true.

She grabbed him by the straps across his chest, shaking him. "You turned her into a thief? You rotten, no-good—"

Brynjolf laughed, grabbing her fingers and uncurling them easily. "Steady on, lass. Why are you so upset about this? If I recall correctly, you're a thief as well."

"No, I'm not."

He looked her up and down so intently that she took a step back and crossed her arms over her chest. "All evidence to the contrary. Look – Kara, is it? – if you'd like, you can come down and see her."

Kara's eyes widened hopefully. "You have her?"

"We don't have her, lass; we're not kidnappers. She's staying with us."

"Take me to her."

"Now?"

"Yes, now. She's the only reason I'm even in Skyrim. I need to see her."

"Are you sure you wouldn't—"

"Now, Brynjolf."

He paused, before nodding. "All right. I can't take you to her, but I can tell you where to go."

"Why can't you?"

"I'll tell you everything once you get there. Remember: Ragged Flagon."

He quickly told her where the entrance was, and she set off immediately, without even saying goodbye. When she found the door, she only briefly hesitated, before shoving it open. Darkness and must enveloped her, as she squashed down her panic.

Welcome to the Ratway.