That evening, Mercer approached Maven Black-Briar in the Bee and Barb in Riften.
"I need to have a word with you Maven…In private, if you don't mind."
"Frey," Maven eyed Mercer disparagingly, "I don't remember calling on you. This better be important."
The two made their way to a private room upstairs in the inn.
"It seems our little nemesis is at it again. We're going to need to arrange a complete takeover of a certain meadery in Whiterun hold."
Maven scoffed loudly, "And how exactly are we going to do that? Obviously, if it was so easily done, Honningbrew would be a distant memory by now."
"As luck would have it, I might have the perfect patsy for the job. If he can pull it off, he would be a great asset to you and the Guild. If not, well let's just say he wouldn't be missed."
Mavin smirked and nodded her head slowly. "I'm sure your old business partner, Maccius, wouldn't mind a pay raise. I hear he stays in Whiterun these days. That slimeball might not be so useless after all."
"Mallus Maccius? He's still hanging around Skyrim, huh? Figures." Mercer thought a moment. "I have a plan, but I will need to check with my contacts before we set it into motion. You can expect written correspondence from me in a few days."
Under the cover of night, Mercer made his way on horseback to Whiterun hold to meet Mallus Maccius. He jumped from the back of his steed near the Whiterun stables and approached the Khajiit caravan nearby. Ri'saad was tinkering with some valuables in his tent and his ears flickered upon detecting light footsteps.
"This one walks like a ghost." He said, not turning to greet the Breton. "What does it want from old Ri'saad?"
"You never fail to amuse me, Ri'saad." Mercer spoke quietly. "I'm looking for Maccius. Know where I can find him around here?"
"Ah, yes, the imperial scum." Ri'saad chuckled. "I know many things…for some coin."
Mercer rolled his eyes and threw a small bag of septims to the floor near the Khajiit. "That will have to do."
"Ah yes, this Maccius is staying at the Bannered Mare on this night. I did not see him leave the city and pass this way. Here, I have also your special order." Ri'saad pulled out a small bag with a few bottles in it and lay it on the floor next to the coin bag.
Mercer grabbed the bag, tucking it into an inside pocket. He then pulled up his cowl and made his way up to the city. The streets were quiet, except for a little girl who was turning stones on the street, most likely looking for lost coins. Mercer tried not to make eye contact, but the little girl noticed him.
"Please, stranger, could you spare a septim?" she begged pathetically.
"Look kid, it's not safe to just approach people and ask for money. They could be…evil." Mercer looked to the side, thinking about some parts of his past.
"I've got nothing to lose, mister. I'd be better off dead, but the Gods won't take me yet." She sulked.
Taken aback by the response, Mercer asked "What's your name, kid?".
"Lucia," she replied quietly, "My mama died, and my aunt kicked me out. I just want something to eat."
Reluctantly, Mercer sifted through his pockets to see if he had any septims left. "Here, take this." He quickly shoved five gold coins into her hands,
"Oh! Mister, thank you so much! I won't forget your kindness." Lucia hugged the coins to her chest.
"Please, do forget." Mercer interjected. "Forget about me and watch out for yourself kid. Never trust anyone." Mercer turned his back to her and continued to walk on to the Bannered Mare just down the street.
Lucia quietly watched him walk away and wondered to herself who he was.
The bard in the inn was quietly playing his lute and one drunk patron lay sprawled out in his chair. Mercer sat down on a barstool next to another passed out patron at the bar. He ordered himself and pint of mead and began to sip it. The man next to him began to snore loudly, so Mercer aggressively kicked the leg of his barstool to shake the man awake. The man stumbled out of his chair and put up his fists, ready to start a drunken fight.
"Well, I'll be damned." Mercer chuckled. "Mallus the Maggot. Long time, no see…thankfully."
"Huh? You? What do you want…?" Mallus took his seat again and began drinking the warm mead left over in his cup.
"I got a job for you, old partner."
"No thanks, I'd rather eat a pile of mammoth dung than work with you again. You stole my woman and also got me a year locked up in a cell." Mallus spit angrily on the floor next to him.
"Look, Mallus, no hard feelings. If she was really your woman, would she have bed a stranger who only called her a fair maiden and bought her a drink? Clearly, you weren't giving her something she needed-".
"Get the hell away from me, Frey." Mallus stood up to walk away.
"Wait, lets speak in private before you reject the deal of a lifetime." Mercer stood up quickly.
"You better not be wasting my time."
Both men walked to the back room on the main floor and closed the door. Mallus sat down on the wooden chair in the corner and kicked up his feet onto the nearby stool.
"So, what do you want?" Mallus asked impatiently. "And before you even ask, no, I won't bed you."
Mercer cackled loudly. "Hah! Lucky for you, it didn't cross my mind…until now." he joked, "But Maven and I have decided it's time to put old Sabjorn out of business."
"It would serve him right…slimy bastard" Mallus spoke resentfully under his breath.
That comment piqued Mercer's interest. "You know him personally?"
"Know him? He's my employer. Bastard never pays me on time. The captain of the guard is coming in a few weeks to get a taste of a new batch of mead. Sabjorn's loosing his head over his little pest problem."
"Right…" Mercer quietly thought to himself for a moment. It was almost perfect. "What kind of pests are we talking about, here?"
"Oh, you know, the usual. Spiders, skeever's and a crazy homeless guy in the basement."
Mercer thought about the mug of Honningbrew mead he had drank at the bar and cringed. "Well, in exchange for getting rid of Sabjorn, Maven and the Guild think it would be in everyone's best interest if you took over the place. Sound fair enough?"
"Really?" Mallus perked up. "I'm up to it. I'll get with Maven, and we'll figure something out. We might need a fall-guy or two…"
"I have someone in mind…" Mercer turned to leave the room. "One more thing. See if that little beggar girl won't go to the orphanage in Riften. I'll pay to secure her way if she decides to go."
"Ah, Mercer, still have a soft spot for the worthless guttersnipes of Tamriel? Sounds like you are still funding that rat's nest over there. How's old Grelod holding up?" Mallus laughed loudly. It was well known that Grelod was mean old witch and absolutely detested children.
"She's becoming a problem but as long as those kids have a place to stay and food in their bellies, she's holding up her end of the deal."
"I still say it's a waste of resources. Survival of the fittest."
"Well, no one asked you, did they?" Mercer sneered.
"Right, Mercer, I'll see if she's up to it. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my drunken stupor."
Though he generally wasn't a generous man, Mercer sympathized with the outcast children of the world. He came from a wealthy family, but in his youth, he was exiled from his family home and made to live in the streets due to his habit of spending the family's fortune frivolously and stealing heirlooms to fund his addictions. With nowhere to go, he eventually turned to thievery and became the best thief in Cyrodil. Legends of the Grey Fox spurred him on his path towards Skyrim, where he joined the Thieves Guild.
It had been nearly a week before Mercer returned to Riften. He spent most of his days away drunk on skooma and fighting wildlife, releasing his pent-up frustrations. Upon entering the Ragged Flagon, Delvin Mallory informed Mercer on how the new recruit was making quite a name for himself.
"Never seen anything like him." Delvin gloated. "Makes me proud to be apart of this Guild, again."
Mercer listened to the success stories of every fishing, heist, and shill jobs he was assigned to. This new recruit, some who claim was "Dragonborn", sounded exactly like the person Mercer had been looking for all these years.
