A/N: Salut, all.
Chapter Eleven
23rd of Second Seed, 4E 201
Riften was a very interesting town. At least, at night it was. Bristar adjusted her grip on the wall and waited for the guard below her to move; he had nearly caught her in the act of breaking into the Pawned Prawn. Her coinpurse had been lifted from her earlier that day, and she needed a few septims to rent a room for the night, else she would have to sleep in the middle of the market, and that didn't bode well.
She looked down at the guard in frustration, he wasn't moving. Growling low in her throat, she fished a rock out of the belt she wore across her chest - she called it her distraction belt - and flung it at the corner of the Bee and Barb. The guard went running towards the sound, Bristar watched him go with a grin, worked every time. Silently, she pulled herself up onto the roof and padded without any noise to the back of the building, there had to be a back entrance, or a window, that she could climb through.
After inspecting every corner and seeing nothing but windows too small for even her lean build to fit through, she sighed in defeat and dropped down from the roof into an alley between the Prawn and another store, a weapons store. She was tempted for a moment to raid it, but decided to not tempt Fate, or Lady Luck. Grumbling under her breath at the sordid half night - her only comfort was that the night was only half over, surely she could find some place to raid - she meandered down the small street.
As Luck would have it, she was wandering around the market when she saw it, the potion stall, unmanned, like all the other stalls, but the potion stall caught her fancy. Rubbing her paws together for warmth, she kept her eye on the beggar sleeping close by and slipped behind the stall. There wasn't a strongbox in sight, but that didn't bother her. She tapped the sides of the stall and was rewarded with a hollow sound on the right. Grinning, Bristar ran her paw over the wood and sensitive fingers easily found the pressure plate. With a happy hum, she pressed it in and was rewarded with the whirr of gears turning, a portion of the wall moved in and to the side, revealing a hidden compartment. A few moments later, it was a much richer Khajiit that slipped the wood over the compartment and stood, counting out enough septims for a room.
She didn't really want the room to sleep in, she just needed there to be an illusion of her being asleep in the inn while she raided a couple of the richer homes, like that one of Mjoll the Lioness, or was it her 'faithful' companion's? Bristar had already forgotten, if it didn't have to do with her interests, she didn't remember. The Bee and Barb was filled with light - from the outside it looked like some strange bug, with its balconies and and windows facing the south - and raucous laughter suddenly burst out, she assumed that some tale had tickled the patrons. Before entering, she removed the belt across her chest and fastened it around her waist, except she put the side with the pouched on the inside, making it look like a normal belt. The cold suddenly bit into her now that she wasn't moving or focused on a raid. The inn was looking even more inviting than it had the first time she had seen it earlier that evening. More laughter drifted to her and, not wanting to miss out, she pushed the door open and hurried in.
The inn was nice and warm, much different than the outside. Bristar scanned the crowd for a moment, recognizing the armor vendor - whose wares were not only utterly hideous, but poorly made - sitting in a corner, brooding over a tall tankard of what could only be an alcohol of some sort. The jewelry vendor sat at the bar, talking to the fellow Argonian. When her gaze fell on the man sitting close to the fireplace, Bristar couldn't help but grin, the potion vendor. A quick glance around the room at the other patrons showed a crowd around some mage telling tales of his exploits. Half looked drunk, and the rest were well on their way.
Still grinning madly, she plopped into a chair close to him, but not so close as to be too close. It was a bad habit of hers, she liked to sit next to people she had stolen from or was going to steal from. It was one reason why she didn't like guild jobs, no time to enjoy the irony of listening to someone complain about being robbed. Of course, he didn't know that he had been stolen from yet, she would love to see his expression when he found out. When one of the - was waiter the correct term? it was in Cyrodiil, she would settle for waiter - waiters came close, she hailed him.
"Greetings, how can I be of service."
The Argonian was obviously trying to be civil to her, she was after all a Khajiit, they might as well be mortal enemies, at least, in her kin's mind they were. She had never truly bothered with all this 'race' stuff, they were all literate, they could all communicate, they just looked different.
"I would like some meat, cheese, and bread, and if you could toast it together for a few minutes I'll add in more coin."
He accepted her money without responding and a few minutes later Bristar was happily munching on toasted cheese and a warm slab of meat, all on some wonderful bread. She paid him a little more for his trouble and he obviously avoided touching her. Holding the 'Toasted Mreesed' - as she called it - with one paw, she stroked her tail with the other, marking that she would have to groom it later, there were a lot of snags and burs in it. Bristar chanced a glance at the potion vendor and couldn't help the sly smile that spread across her lips.
Then she cocked her head as she realized that she had never seen that shade of red in a Nord's hair ever before.
As if sensing her look, he met her gaze; she blinked and looked away, acting the part of someone who had been lost in thought.
She started to hum an old tune, something from her past. Taking a bite if her Toasted Mressed, she began to stare at the fire. It was a few moments later that Bristar found her meal too quickly ended and stared down at the crumbs that littered the floor around her, she couldn't remember the last time she had eaten so messily. She yawned suddenly, her full stomach was making her sleepy. It had been a while since she had last eaten her 'creation', she had forgotten how filling it was. Deciding that tomorrow she would seek out the Thieves' Guild, she yawned and stumbled up towards her room.
It was the work of a moment to strip off her armor and crawl under the covers, she made sure to tie her coinpurse to her tail, the most sensitive part of her body - a method that had worked multiple times in the past - before she fell asleep. She couldn't shake the feeling that she slept too good for being in a 'den of thieves'.
The next morning, she rose early and was out by the forge caring for her weapons long before the rest of the town was awake. Bristar had oiled her bow and given it a new string, sharpened her two mismatched daggers and sword, had wrapped the hilts of all three blades with new leather, and even had the time to carve a piece of charcoal into a rather intricate carving of a Khajiit - her signature - all before the blacksmith emerged yawning from his shop.
"Mornin', cat."
She nodded to him and finished the mask on her carving, the last shaving falling to the ground. It actually looked a little like her, if she looked past the hood, cloak, and mask. Sighing, she put it in a pocket inside her knapsack and shrugged off the post she had been leaning against.
"What kinds of armor are you selling?"
The blacksmith looked her up and down with a calculating eye. Wiping the sweat off his hands he stood, he walked towards his shop, she trailed a little bit behind, not sure if she was supposed to follow him.
"You prefer light, missy?"
"Aye."
He disappeared into his shop and reappeared a few moments later, leather armor of a much better quality than what she wore in his hand. Her eyes lit up when she saw it. It was darker than the leathers she was wearing at the moment, and was lacking the annoying 'shoulder guard' - she called it her blinder, the cursed thing was so tall she could barely see over it. He brushed past her and to his forge, where he took a knife and began to cut a hole in the armor, she wondered briefly why before she absently curled her tail around her leg and blushed under her fur. Of course, a hole for her tail.
"How big is your tail? 'Bout this?"
He held his hand up in a circle that was by far too small. She shook her head and used both paws to create how round her tail was. He nodded and worked on the leather armor for a moment before holding it up for her inspection, already finished with the changes.
"Hope it fits, never had to make armor for a Khajiit before in my life."
"How much?" Bristar asked, pawing the leather she now held, it was supple but hard.
"How much do you have?"
"Five hundred septims." She actually had six hundred, but she was leaving herself a bit to live with. He accepted the payment without a grumble and returned to his forge. Fingering the leather, she walked away from the forge and... ran right into a mountain. At least, it felt like a mountain. She dropped her new leathers and windmilled her arms, tail lashing. Bristar had managed to keep her balance, not so for the 'mountain' she had run into. The Nord went sprawling to the right and fell to the ground in a bruising thud.
"Khajiit is so sorry," Her accent slipped over her more refined speech when she noticed that it was the potion stall owner that she had run into. "let Khajiit help you up."
She held a paw out to him and, after a moment of hesitation on his part, hauled him to his feet. In that instant, Bristar noticed his extravagant robe he wore. A man like him had to carry a lot of gold on him. She brushed him off, feeling for his coinpurse while raising small puffs of dust from the garments. It took her less than a second to feel and lift his coinpurse from him with two fingers, still mumbling apologies. She slipped the purse into her knapsack while he was still catching his balance. She picked her new armor up and congratulated herself on a job well done; she was about to brush past him when he put a hand on her shoulder.
"You couldn't have gotten all that gold honestly."
Putting a smile on her lips, Bristar whirled, looking at the Nord in a new light. He had to be a thief to make that observation, or a retired guard who specialized in catching pickpockets, who else would make such a declaration?
"Pardon? Are you implying that I-"
He interrupted her with a placating flurry of movement from his hands.
"Oh, no, no. It is just that five hundred septims," He whistled. "that is a lot of gold to throw in one place, for one thing."
Her mind flew back to the time when she used to steal enough gold in a day to buy that house in Whiterun seven times over. Oh, how she had lived then.
She looked him over with a suspicious eye, how would he know how much she had payed if he hadn't been listening in... or had someone else listen in for him, she had been distracted. He might have had a beggar listen in and tell him when a richer visitor bought something. Some kind of spotter, a poor child, someone who owed him something. Or a guard.
"That was your man at the gate, wasn't it?"
"Aye, he got cocky. I told him to tax merchants coming to the city. But he saw you and saw easy money. Nice job spotting him."
She took the compliment without comment and shrugged, not seeing the point of the conversation.
"What is it to you?"
"I need a hand in an..." He hesitated, trying to find the right word to use. "endeavor of mine."
Interest piqued, Bristar crossed her arms over her chest, armor still clutched in paw.
"I'm listening."
"A client of mine wants to put one of the stall runners, Brand-Shei, out of business, for good." He leaned casually against the divider between the Market and the normal street. She joined him and soaked up the slight sunshine that shone through the fog. "I'll create a distraction and you'll steal a necklace from the strongbox Madesi keeps locked under his stall then plant it on Brand-Shei-"
"A reverse pickpocket?" She grunted. "Easy."
"Glad to see you think so, you ready?"
Bristar grunted her response, the stone behind her was just starting to feel welcoming. Reluctantly, she cracked open a eye and looked over at him.
"I never caught your name, and you never caught mine. I'm Bristar."
"Brynjolf."
The name sounded familiar for some reason, though she couldn't place it. She nodded, having learned a long time ago to not shake hands with a thief. Taking the initiative, she walked into the market and went straight to Madesi's stall, pretending to be interested in the trinkets he was selling. When she heard Brynjolf begin his spiel, she laid a paw on a lockpick. Madesi wandered over, clearly not interested, but at least amused. She went into action, slipping behind and unlocking the sliding door was amateurs play. The strongbox required a bit of time. While she was tinkering with it, she couldn't help but dwell on the wonderful mystery of where she had heard the name Brynjolf before.
Absentmindedly, she opened the strongbox and took out the necklace - along with the rest of its contents - she shut everything behind her, resisting the urge to leave her signature behind. Holding the necklace in her right paw, she walked over and nonchalantly joined the small crowd in listening to Brynjolf. Suddenly, it dawned on her. Brynjolf was that guard's brother, she had a letter for him. Pleased with herself now that she had remembered, she easily slipped up to the Dark Elf, Brand-Shei, and placed the necklace into his pocket, making sure to have the chain dangle a bit. Brynjolf finished up his spiel once he saw that she was done. She noticed that no one had bought any of his 'new product'.
"Nice lift, lass. Ever thought of joining the Guild?"
Every moment since hearing of it. She thought sarcastically. As it was, she just nodded, trying (and only somewhat succeeding) to play the part of a willing guild initiate.
"We're situated in the Ratway, beneath the city. The Ragged Flagon is our headquarters, find me there and we'll talk business."
A/N:Really sorry about the lateness, I keep meaning to put them out earlier, but don't - plus I couldn't log on for some strange reason.
