When I wake up, I'm not in the snow. No, I am in a new place, which is warm, dry, and according to the pain lancing through my body, I'm still alive. But as I sit up, look around, I find myself on a bed in a huge underground cistern. I look all over, seeing men and women milling around or shooting targets with their arrows. I look at the bed next to me, and see a man sitting there, with shoulder length auburn hair, blue-green eyes, and a wide shoulders just staring at me.
"Uh, where am I?"
"You'll get your answers soon enough, lass," says the man with a thick accent I cannot place. "But first, did you kill that werewolf that attacked you?"
"He attacked me and my horse. Where is she?" I demand.
"That's not how things work around here, lass," he says. "Unfortunately, since my friend brought you here, saying you could be trusted, and he owed you a life-debt, he didn't inform me of who exactly you are. So, tell me, who are you?"
"The more important question is, who's your friend?"
He sighs. "You're a stubborn elf, I'll give you that. Etienne Rarnis. He said that when he was locked up, you broke him out. He found you, bleeding out in the snow, so he gave you a spare healing potion. Unfortunately, though, it seems like you'll have scars. But... who are you?"
"Well, since you're a friend of Etienne ... my name is Emmeranne."
"Brynjolf," he says. "Now we're getting somewhere."
Brynjolf stands up. I look over, as a Breton man I don't recognize approaches. He looks very angry.
"Who in Oblivion is she?""Mercer, she's Rarnis's friend. Got him out of the Thalmor Embassy," Brynjolf says hastily.
"Does she have any skills? Other than nearly dying in the snow?" Mercer demands.
I bristle and stand up, feeling my legs quake slightly. "I'm the Dragonborn."
They both turn and look at me. "I'm sorry, you're..."
"Don't make me laugh," barks Mercer.
"I am, I'm the one who has slain Alduin. I am the one who saved your very souls."
Mercer scoffs. But Brynjolf, he looks stunned. "You ... I remember you. You were the Dunmer girl who came to me in the marketplace months ago in Companions armor. You laughed when I proposed a business proposal. Too good for us, then?"
I swallow. "I've turned away from that life. I... lost too many people. Not just when I became the Harbinger of the Companions, but... now. With the Dark Brotherhood. Astrid's betrayal, her getting everyone but four of us dead. I've lost so much. I don't want to lose more, I want to be the one who takes."Mercer smirks. "Well. If you think you've got the aptitude for our line of work, perhaps..."
"No," Brynjolf says. "Not the Goldenglow Estate job. Not even Vex could do it!"
"Well, it's that, or she doesn't become one of us," Mercer snarls. He looks at me. "Talk to Brynjolf or Vex if you need any information on this job. But don't worry, Brynjolf. I'm sure Rarnis's friend here will be dead before nightfall."
When Mercer stalks off, I face Brynjolf. "Is he always that hospitable?"
Brynjolf shrugs. "Lass, this is serious. Do you truly want to become one of us? Do you want to be part of the Thieves Guild?"
When I nod, he sighs. "Alright, lass. But be careful on that island. Those mercenaries don't take prisoners."