Here we go again! Despite being NPC with a little role, Maul has always fascinated me as also caused some amusements in the game. Also his ties to Maven as also the Guild are interesting, especially his differences with his brother giving ideas. Also I wanted to put this Dark Brotherhood OC somewhere, she's my relax-and-fun character.
Hopefully you'll enjoy!
They all knew, except the jarl herself, that Maven Black-Briar was the real ruler of Riften.
She had the most powerful thing that moves people, and it was wealth. With cold shrewdness and bold resolution she kept things under her golden touch, manipulating things into her favor. But it wasn't only successful business and its earnings that kept the Nord woman on top of things.
She also had the sense of hiring and keeping the right people by her side.
Maul was one of them. Enough smart man with a touch of temper to act as a good hound of hers. Has been ever since he saved her son, Hemming, from bandits. He receiving from that a fat pouch of coin as also a proposition, that promised better life. No more hiding in the shadows and avoiding guards. No more damp and moldy Cistern, nor living with over ten people at same space. No more Brynjolf's crazy schemes and going around Skyrim after commissions with thin rewards.
Why not, Maul had thought. He had noticed already back then, that things were going wrong for the Guild. He was like a fisherman in a leaking boat, not seeing the hole but noticing the water gathering at the bottom. And he hates swimming, as also fish. So he switched from being Guild's thief to being Maven's henchman. Sure, it wasn't safer, Maven having lot of enemies. But the coin he got from listening, transacting and protecting the Black-Briars' operations was satisfying.
More than he ever earned as a tailor, from odd jobs or by stealing.
And it wasn't like he didn't enjoy of the respect, or rather fear, towards him that came with the title as Maven's right hand man. Guards left him alone, crowds dispersed in front of him and he got nice discounts. He had his own room in the Black-Briars' manor and he didn't need to take orders from anyone else than the family. And even then Maven's word was the first and the last.
Reminiscing how he made the greatest decision in his life tugged the Nord's lips upward. Now he was doing his routine at the early morning. Walking through the misty streets and the awakening market place. Like a guard dog watching over Maven's residence. His patrol ended at the city's front gates, still too early for groups of people to start passing in and out. Just as he had settled to lean against a pillar of one of the houses, the gates opened. Cloaked figure with suspicious aura wandered in while the gates closed behind. Despite of cautionary feeling, Maul investigated the person who was smaller than him. It was his job after all to know about things going around.
"Hey, you. You in Riften lookin' for trouble?" he called, earning the stranger's attention. The big man glared as they approached him, his hand going for his sword and already pulling as they came closer. They stopped at uneasy closeness, a Breton's long face smiling up to him.
"Hello. Don't know about the trouble, but I'm looking for a person. Could you help?"
Suspicious, the Nord looked down at the short woman. Rest of her was hidden by a thick cloak, except for her face and some strayed curls of strawberry blonde hair. Sweet hazel eyes were narrowed by the smile she was giving, rounded cheeks covered by freckles.
"Depends on the person and the coin you give," was Maul's answer with slight growl. He didn't like the closeness between them.
"Maven Black-Briar," pale lips spoke, and the eyes sharpened. "I have appointment with her."
"What is your name then," Maul demanded, not having any notice from Maven that someone like this Breton was up for a meeting.
"My name has no matter," the woman answered, examining his tall posture, his maintained quality armor, his old sword, up and down her gaze went on him.
"And I don't have much coin on me," she said, tilting her head to aside.
Then her appearance turned back from predatory to sweet tone: "So how about you tell me for free? Pretty please?"
As the last words left her lips, the Nord felt a sudden, inexplicable threat. It made his skin crawl and he tried to see where the woman's hands were but they were hidden under that robe of hers. Maul pushed the woman by her shoulder, forcing her to take a staggering step away while he sneered.
"Don't make me laugh. Just stay out of the Black-Briars' affairs, you'll live longer."
He was ready to draw his sword out as the stranger blinked, perplexed, before chuckling in a tone that irritated the man. The woman's voice was raspy and whispering, sick, and as she started laughing with raised fist over her mouth, it sounded like she was suffocating. Crazy bitch. Something was wrong with her, Maul was sure about that.
And she was looking for Maven.
"What is it you want from her," he dig deeper.
The Breton stopped laughing, coughing, before saying as innocently as a child with a mouth full of sweetroll: "Just murder."
Maul draw out his one-handed sword: "Bad answer."
He attacked, almost cutting the Breton in half sideways as she dodged downwards. Then odd thing happened. In a blink, so fast it was hard to process, Maul was laying on the misty ground. With bleeding nose of his and body hurting from the impact. The woman stood at his side, looking down at him with a friendly face.
"About the-"
He shut her up, flipping her also down by her ankle. Because despite some may think, Maul wasn't a stupid big oaf. He could be fast enough if wanted to. They both got up. Maul took back his sword and saw glimpse of two daggers moving under the Breton's cloak. Before either fully moved to attack, both of their attentions were turned by a door opening nearby. Mjoll the Lioness and Aerin stepped out, halting when seeing the Nord and the Breton.
"What is going on here," the warrior woman demanded sternly. Maul was going to tell the ever meddling cow to keep at her own business, but the Breton was faster.
"Sparring. Nothing to worry about, but I guess a street isn't the best place," the assassin explained cheerfully before bowing shortly: "Apology."
Then she was out of their view and walking through a small gate into the back alleys, giving a glance. Maul of course stalked after, wiping his bloody nose and carrying his sword. At the alley the redhead faced him with raised hands.
"Business?" croaked the voice of hers.
"Speak," Maul snarled with his weapon ready and wary of the movement of her feet.
"Maven contacted us. I'm to answer to the contract she has created."
The Breton opened the front of her cloak, exposing light armor colored by black and red. The Nord realized the stranger's identity, and hid his nervousness with grumpy attitude: "You could have just said your business right away, idiot."
She shrugged, closing her cloak: "Sorry. I'm a bit of an enthusiast."
An understatement but at least she seemed honest. Could be she still lied, but her explanation made sense of things now, as much as they could. Putting away his sword Maul stepped to the woman's side, as far from her as possible, eyeing skeptically: "Just follow."
He of course wouldn't take the assassin into the family's home. Lying or not, caution was to be had. But she would eventually know that one of the nicest house in Riften belongs to the Black-Briars.
"So, what is your name?" the woman asked as they walked.
"Not your business," Maul grumbled, glancing and verifying the woman was staring at him. "And stop staring."
Gave him the creeps.
"Sorry, I just like your face."
He looked as she smiled. She was pretty enough, in a soft, friendly way. But her personality was disturbingly odd. Crazy. Part of that murder cult.
"As a mask I'm sure."
"Oh, no, my Family doesn't do that. But there is a group at Summerset Isles that does?"
"Don't fuckin' care." Maul really didn't care to know. Madmen wearing other people's faces, fuck that! They were silent for a moment, before she again talked.
"Have you met an assassin before?"
"...Yeah," Maul answered. Surprisingly there had only been one incident. Not from Dark Brotherhood though. Thank Zenithar that Maven Black-Briar had created enough connections and fear, that people didn't dare to take the risk and contact the organization.
"Were they any good?" the assassin questioned, and the Nord smirked: "I'm here aren't I?"
Surprised by his wit the assassin lowered her face. To him, her quiet giggling was less irritating than her loud laughter.
Maul had told the assassin to wait at the backyard, out of anyone's sight, while he would talk to the mistress.
He glanced while walking up the steps, seeing the cloaked figure sitting on a barrel and leaning against stonewall. She gave him a wave, acting like she didn't look suspicious at all. The Nord man did have very little experience of real assassins, but her actions so far didn't strike him with professionalism. Getting inside Maul walked past a dining room, glancing at a servant preparing the family's breakfast. The Nord went upstairs and knocked on the mistress' door.
"What is it," Maven's even voice asked.
"Krhm, there's a member of Dark Brot-"
The double doors opened and dressed in a robe Maven walked past the Nord man.
"Finally! Where are they?"
Maul went after his mistress, they walking down the stairs.
"She is waitin' outside at the backya-"
"Good morning."
They halt at the dining room's doorway. There, an assassin sat at the end of readied breakfast table. She had an apple from the buffet. The nervous wood elf servant stood there, glancing at the lady of the manor and her hound, then to the assassin biting into the fruit.
"Leave," the dark haired woman ordered and after a quick bow the elf left. Angry Maul watched the smiling, eating Breton as Maven sat at the opposite end of the table. She observed the assassin with cold skepticism.
"Took you people long enough to answer, after all the trouble I went through to do the silly ritual."
"Apology, we had interruptions with receiving your contract."
The Nord woman's lips curved upwards a bit, but Maul knew it wasn't a good sign. In his mind he cursed the stupid Breton who neatly put down the devoured apple core.
"But now I am here. Tell us, Maven Black-Briar, who is the Unworthy to die by your request?"
After a short, meaningful silence Maven sighed. Like mother letting her child's inconsiderate act slip by.
"The owner of Goldenglow Estate, an Altmer named Aringoth. I want him dead and part of his beehives burned. And I also want the deed of his possession."
Maven started picking food onto a plate in front of her, glancing at the assassin.
"Go to the Thieves guild for more information. Ask for Brynjolf."
Then cutting a piece from her breakfast, Maven calmly said before eating: "Now get out of my house."
Nodding the assassin stood up and started heading towards the backdoor.
"Understood, may I borrow him-"
"You may not," the Nord woman answered without looking. "Maul needs to do some cleaning."
He gave one final glare as the Breton left, leaving him and the mistress alone in the dining room. He waited patiently while Maven ate, but he couldn't completely ignore the heavy, chilling silence. Wanting to defend himself from her ire but knowing better to keep it shut.
"Maul," the Nord woman finally spoke.
"Yes ma'am?"
"At the basement, next to Ingun's playroom, is a mess I want you to clean off. Go. And clean your face, oaf."
While walking downstairs he let out a heavy sigh. Maven was angry, and so was he. It had been a clear order for the assassin: stay outside. She better be good at her job.
Taking out his copy of the manor's master key, Maul opened a locked door at the basement. Behind the door there was a human skeleton on the floor, circled by candles, with rotting heart and piece of meat. As also violet flower petals scattered around. The sight made the man grimace, watching the remains of the ritual for a moment.
He didn't knew Maven would do something as weird as this, than make someone else to do it.
And where from the Oblivion had she brought a whole skeleton here? She hadn't said anything to him. He hadn't noticed anyone bringing into the house anything suspicious. And who's body it was? He could come up with a long list of people who had crossed Maven, resulting to their deaths.
Sighing yet again the Nord grumbled, wanting to say he didn't get paid enough for this shit but... He did get paid enough. Whatever, it wasn't his place to question, he just did his job. Looking for some kind of bag where to dump the bones and the skull into, Maul stopped as Ingun stepped out of her laboratory.
"Oh, mother doesn't need those anymore? Can I have them back?"
"These are yours?"
"Yes, she wanted to borrow them."
Guess he should have known these things came from Ingun. He couldn't say which was creepier: Maven bringing a body into her house for some ritual, or Ingun providing her mother with the needed ingredients. And now asking them back after the use.
"She told me to clean them away," the Nord shrugged.
"No no, they are mine. I'll clean the mess."
"Your mother ordered me to," he underlined to the young woman, who just crossed her arms.
Maul, maybe, liked Ingun the most in this family. He certainly didn't think highly of her brothers.
"Fine, but don't let her know," he gave in, having enough of crazy women.
"Thank you Maul."
He opened his mouth to grunt something when suddenly Ingun stepped closer, examining his face.
"Something happened to your nose? I think I have some potion I-"
"No thanks," the man hurried and headed out of the basement.
He was not gonna try any Ingun's developed potions. Brynjolf's own potion scams had already left a bad, lasting taste.
Meanwhile everyone's attention in the tavern was caught by the Ratway's opening door. Hooded person peeked in, watching the staring people at the other side of the water pool.
"Is this the Ragged Falcon," the stranger shouted.
"Depends, you a guard?" someone yelled back.
"No, I'm an assassin."
"Then no, this is not the Ragged Falcon."
"Seriously?"
"Yes, this is the Ragged Flagon."
"Oh, that's what I was looking for!"
The Breton closed the door behind and slumped around the body of water. She was stopped when a big Imperial blocked the little bridge leading to the tavern.
"And the problem," she asked, raising brows at the blond man.
"Stay outta trouble, or there's gonna be trouble," he growled and the woman narrowed her hazel eyes.
"This feels so familiar... What's your name?"
"Dirge."
She snickered before stopping herself. "Why?" she asked, standing her ground as he took a step into her personal space.
"'cause I'm the last thing you hear before they put you in the ground. Why? You think it's funny or something?"
"...So you sing at funerals, for the people you've killed?"
The man, Dirge, blinked before slowly answering: "No."
"Okay, shame, but okay. No trouble. Got it."
The assassin slowly walked around the man while keeping an eye on him. Everyone kept glancing or straight on looking, so she pulled the hood down, ruffling her short curls.
"So what do you want?" a man with bartender outfit asked, resting against a broom he hold.
Slapping and rubbing hands together the assassin approached with a smile. "Three things please," she hold up the number of fingers, putting them down one by one. "Food and water, it was exhausting finding this place, and the third is a man named Brynjolf?"
She noticed someone discreetly standing up and walking out of the cistern, using different route than she.
"You better have coin to pay your breakfast then. There's no handouts here for anyone."
"Certainly. Anything soft food? Eggs, fish? And simple clean water is fine. A whole jug please."
"Take a seat," the bartender nodded towards an empty table before walking behind the counter.
Sitting down, giving a smiling glance to anyone staring, the assassin opened her cloak. She let out a soft groan while relaxing. Two daggers, elven made, hanged from her belt as also small bottles, pouches and a purse. Another Breton, a man, sat into the same table, the woman giving a curious glance at him.
"So what the Dark Brotherhood wants of the Thieves Guild?"
"Business," she simply croaked, then had a fit of coughing, massaging her throat and held fist in front of her mouth. The bartender came with a jug and a tankard, setting them down.
The coughing assassin nodded, showed thumb up and lifted the whole jug to her lips. She gulped down couple of times before setting it down with a heavy sigh.
"You okay?" the bald Breton asked and she nodded.
"Too much talking," she whispered, and this time poured water into the tankard. "You the Guild's spokesperson or something?"
"Something like that. So, being in a Dark Brotherhood... How is Astrid doing' these days?"
Tilting head to side, the Breton woman said slowly. "Fiiine? Happily being the mother of our family. Married. You two friends?"
The man nodded, repeating: "Something like that. But good to hear. Tell her to stop by some time, that Delvin said so, won't you? But yes, the business. What- Ah, Brynjolf."
As the assassin turned in her chair to look, the bartender also brought the food. Some fried eggs with slice of bread. She paid the price which wasn't as high as she had expected, no complains though. She liked things being simple and friendly.
She looked at the approaching redhead, who sat down with her and the bald man.
"Well well lass, heard you ordered me with some breakfast?" the Nord man smiled charmingly, glancing at Delvin.
"Cheeky, I like it. Maven sent me, something about killing Aringoth?" the assassin explained, picking up a fork and asked before Brynjolf commented: "You mind if I eat while we talk?"
Getting permission she ate, listening and talking of the mission, woman named Vex visiting their table to explain further about the Goldenglow Estate. Simple job, despite of the security and all. The eggs were nicely done by the way! The soft texture just sliding down her throat without much effort. The bread she picked apart in small pieces, leaving the crusts last. Then she dipped the crusts into her drink, soaking them before chewing and swallowing. Drinking her tankard empty, the assassin nodded to the redheaded Nord.
"Okay, pretty simple thing. I'll do it at the evening."
"Good. And if you find anything that would give a hint of his new business partner, we would gladly have a look at it."
The Breton woman nodded again, it being just her and Brynjolf at the table now. Everyone else had accustomed to her presence, doing their own things. The assassin leaned across the table, whispering: "Asking outside of this, you sell information of people?"
Frowning before pulling that charming smile back on, Brynjolf nodded: "Ay, lass. For the right price. Of who we are talking about?"
"His name is Maul," the assassin revealed, smiling mischievously. Head leaning against her arm which was stretched across the small table. "Black haired, bearded Nord man? Narrow eyes, mean but handsome face, works for Maven?"
Brynjolf blinked, standing between amused surprise and suspicious protectiveness.
Maul's departing had not been done under negative emotions. They had respected the man's decision and despite of moving up, he hadn't changed his attitude towards them. He still was part of the Guild, in a certain way.
The assassin's interest, her exploratory gaze, made Brynjolf very conscious of her profession, of the two daggers and of her people's known tendency to magic. Despite they being at the Ragged Flagon, surrounded by his allies, the Nord felt some uneasiness in front of the little lass from Dark Brotherhood.
"So he's familiar to you all," the Breton spoke in low, hoarse voice. Her gaze quickly going around before settling back to him. "Maybe a friend, as how you and everyone else are looking. Good. So he can make friends and maintain them despite of his rough attitude. Or is that just an act for being Maven's subordinate?"
"That's good guessing, lass. Didn't know I was that easy to read," Brynjolf shrugged and leaned back on his chair.
"Thief or assassin, it's part of our jobs to estimate people and situations, right?" The woman raised her hands: "That's why I tell right away, that I mean no harm to him."
"Then what do you want of him?"
She smiled with a shy look while saying: "A bit of bee and barb."
At the bar, Delvin started coughing his drink out, someone chortled and Brynjolf stared with raised brows. He chuckled, fist covering his wide grin.
"Oh? Hmm," the thief tried but couldn't right away find the right words. That was rare of him. The woman, red as the color of her hair, giggled and clapped.
"Well that is relief to hear then," Brynjolf finally managed.
The assassin's face sobered, making the cistern go silent with her next words: "I lied."
Then she smiled again: "Partly. I would actually maybe want to marry him, if getting to know him better and liking what I find."
"You serious," Brynjolf questioned. The woman's face changed like a wind from cheerful to serious and from soft to something ominous.
"I swear on mine and my parents' graves."
The thief tapped his finger against the table, trying to figure out the woman in front of him, before answering. "Well lass, as much as I would like playing as Mara's priest, I'm afraid information of him is out of the table."
"Can't even tell are redheads his favorite? Or does he kick puppies?"
Chuckling Brynjolf shook his head: "I don't know and I have never seen him kicking a puppy."
"That's a start," she amused, looking around before clasping hands together. "Right, I can sense I should continue my mission. Thank you for the food, information and so on. Lovely place, will visit again, I assure."
The cistern was quiet as the assassin made her way out, smiling at glaring Dirge and then closed the door after her. The thieves started gossiping and joking among themselves after she left. Delvin joined Brynjolf with a mug of mead.
"That was interesting. What do you say, should we warn Maul? Or let her court him," the redhead inquired with one-sided smirk.
The bald man chuckled, shaking his head: "Dark Brotherhood is full of lunatics, more or less. Can't say what kind of she is. But nothing good can come from that."
"Yet you played with that Astrid woman," Brynjolf teased, Delving grinning: "I knew what kind of crazy she was. And always knew where her hands were."