A/N: Don't really have much to report today. My internet was annoying yesterday so my videos were rather late getting up compared to usual and my second video today was late due to it as well, since somehow it refused to start uploading when the first video was done. Other than that, got nothing.
Guen: Thank you! :D
Guest: Thank you as well! :3
Manu: Torture from anyone tends to be pretty terrible. From what we saw early on in the game, Imperial torture isn't very pleasant and personally I kind of picture the Thalmor being even worse considering they think so lowly of the human races. So yeah...I might explore details more in the full story, but I might not. Torture tends to be a little darker than what I typically write.
Nina: Indeed, Ulfric has experienced their form of torture before. In my canon for this story, that is why he felt he needed to come with the rescue crew himself. He and my Dovahkin have gotten close at this point and I see the relationship as a kind of father-daughter sort and she eventually views Galmar as an uncle of sorts. She's making quite the little family in Skyrim. :)
Rocki. D. Martinez : Thank you Captain Obvious. Hey, while you're over there prejudging a story based on the sole fact it is a self-insert, consider the fact you should read something before judging it and consider the fact that this is not the full story as well. Also consider the fact that Skyrim is practically a self-insert game if you so choose to play it that way. I often base my decisions and gameplay in games like Skyrim on how I feel I would act and react in those worlds and situations and I also take into consideration what has happened to the character that has not happened to me in reality-based off doesn't mean exactly the same-which applies to my self-inserts as well. Just because a story is a self-insert doesn't make it a bad story in and of itself. I get that self-inserts aren't everyone's cup of tea, but to go around and reviewing stories that are such without ever giving it a chance is just being a troll. I am a member of the old TISSI group from an old forum of mine, that stands for The Incredibly Shameless Self-Inserters. We're actually the ones who started the trend(even though we never really publicly displayed that we were a group, really). And besides that, I haven't even seen any self-inserts Skyrim stories myself, so it's not like they're incredibly common and running rampant in this fandom like they are in fandoms like Transformers and my god are there so many poorly written SI stories in the Transformers fandom. I love imagining how I would act in worlds other than my own, it's therapeutic and I have plenty of readers who seem to enjoy my work. So the fact you think I am wrong for writing a self-insert doesn't bother me too much, but it seems you make comments like this one by habit. I don't actually expect you to return here to even read this, so I will end this response here.
About this scene...It takes place sometime after the meeting at High Hrothgar, so Riften is officially an Imperial city at this point. It also takes place after my Dovahkin defeated Alduin, but before she joins the Stormcloaks. At some point in her travels, likely before reaching Windhelm when she initially left Whiterun, she visited Riften and found herself Thane of the city, though she didn't stay long, not really liking the city. Currently, she is stopping by on her way to complete a mission for the Companions, needing a fairly safe place to crash rest for a few hours. She's made stops here periodically, during which she often sells Brynjolf random and sometimes rare items she happens to have on her that she has no use for, but that is the extent of her dealings with the Thieves Guild or any of its members. Brynjolf, of course, always tries to get her to change her mind. She has no desire to be a thief, however, and merely sees selling him her items as a convenient way to lighten her load and feels the more they get legitimately, the less they are likely to steal in order to stay afloat. She isn't naive enough to believe they would stop their thieving entirely, but she hopes it at least helps stop them from thieving from those who need what they have. Riften always reminds her of the town she grew up in, which is why she tries to avoid it...
# 011 - Memories
I sat on the porch on my home in Riften. I wasn't here often, I tried to stay away from Riften as much as possible. It was full of thieves and other riff-raff. Not to mention, even though I am Thane, I didn't get along well with the Jarl that's been in place ever since the meeting at High Hrothgar. I actually told my housecarl here not to bother with guarding my house. I never left anything here I would be upset about if the Thieves Guild or Imperials stole it. I was too paranoid about it. When I did stay here, I made sure to only bring what I needed and I never slept well. Though not sleeping well was common wherever I was.
As I watched people mill about, however, I was reminded of my home growing up. When you got down to it, Riften wasn't that much different from my hometown. The biggest difference was the way of travel from place to place. Theft was a common occurrence in both places, though from the word around town the Guild was even more bold than the thieves of my hometown. The atmosphere was similar as well.
"What're you thinking about?"
"None of your business, Brynjolf," I told the man as he sat down in the chair next to mine.
"Have you considered my offer?" Brynjolf asked.
"I told you, I'm not a thief and hold no desire to be one," I said. "Speaking of, if you are so set on me joining, tell your cronies to stop breaking into my house. I don't leave anything of value anyways."
"You never know," Brynjolf said. "It's just the newbies, trying to prove their worth by breaking into the Thane's house."
I scoffed a little. "Because an almost always empty house is such a hard target," I shook my head. "Of course, I'm the one paranoid enough to never leave anything here."
Brynjolf chuckled at me.
I cast a glare at the thief. Before long I sighed. I didn't hate the man, he had been nice to me every time I came to Riften. I even traded some valuables with him, allowing him to pay me half the amount he thought he could get for it, whenever I did show up. I was here more often than I would like, even though I tried to avoid stopping here. I may not agree with his profession, but I understood needing to do what you could to survive.
"I still want to know what you were thinking about," Brynjolf said. "You looked rather forlorn."
"This town always brings back memories," I admitted. "It's very similar to the place I grew up. Albeit, with less disappearing women and just a little less oppression in the atmosphere. But the fact that you can't leave anything out in the open or it'll be stolen is the same."
Brynjolf grinned as if he would've laughed if I hadn't just revealed the dark past of my hometown. "Well, women certainly don't just go disappearing around here," he commented. "They did in your hometown?"
I nodded. "Women around my age," I said. "It picked up a lot after I grew up...when I moved back after spending several years away, I was no longer comfortable enough to go on a walk after dark and with the crime increase, I wouldn't even leave in the daylight without my mom's dog...it wasn't as bad when I was a kid, though. When I was young, and innocent. But then….things always look better in memory than perhaps they really were."
"Funny thing memory," Brynjolf said, a sigh in his tone. "The mind seems to pick and choose what it remembers."
"Hm," I hummed in agreement. "By the way, I have some stuff I found in a crypt before coming here. Thought you might be able to use it more than I."
"You claim to hate thieves, but you certainly have helped us a lot," Brynjolf said.
"I don't hate thieves, I hate the act of thievery," I corrected him. "But I get needing to do something to survive. I've done many jobs I hated doing just to stay afloat...if barely." I shifted in my seat. "And that memory is what prompts me to do what I can without crossing my lines."
"I see," he said, looking at me. After a moment, he had to ask. "Why do you hate thievery?"
I looked at him with a completely straight face. "A thief tried to kill me once," I said, then shook my head. "That's not really why, though. Mostly it is because I value honesty so much." I laced my fingers together, leaning on my knees. "I also have this maddening memory of a thief stealing my brother's cat."
"His cat?" Brynjolf asked.
I shot him a look to rival Mace Windu's scowl when Anakin Skywalker was being an idiot. "Take my stuff all you want," I said. "Don't touch the pets."
The expression on his face told me that he probably would never steal a person's pet for fear I would hunt him down and Shout him to death.