So, from the Reviews, I guess everyone's enjoying this story? Or at least, I hope so... anyway, this story hasn't really had any really thief-like moments, so I figured that I'd have to change that - it is called the Thief after all right? I mean, I might as well have just called him Garret... (Brownie points to anyone who gets that).

Also, I'm sorry for not updating in a while, I've been busy with stuff... the good news is that I've written the longest chapter yet - Seven pages *cue fireworks*. So, I hope you guys like this chapter - especially you SirAC, I put in some 'MAD MAGE SKILLZ' just for you... there'll be more, I promise.

Reviews...

SirAC - Ah - this is where it gets very interesting... unlike any other story you have read on FanFiction, save 'Anna Stormcloak' by Jen. I can promise you that this story is an epic one... I'm not too sure how long it will be at the moment, but you're in for one roller coaster of a ride my friend...

Shout outs to:

heylen2000

FairyLightning - who has favourited and followed the story... brownie points for you!

Chapter Twelve

Calcelmo was, without a doubt, impatient. He was an Altmer, which explained his high opinion of himself, but I doubt I had ever met someone that was as arrogant as he. He spoke in quick sharp breaths, his voice cutting through the air like an arrowhead. I found this out as I walked into the ruined underbelly of Understone Keep. His hooded face turned towards me, lips pursed and face narrow and angular, suiting his voice. He was so lean I doubted he ever stopped whatever he was doing to eat or sleep.

"Yes, yes, what is it?" I took a breath, trying to restrain myself at this annoyance.

"I hear you're the authority on ancient Falmer." I said, trying to flatter the arrogant old man. His lips turned upwards into a jagged, snake-like smile.

"Then you were well informed. I am at this very moment on the cusp of completing my magnum opus on the subject." He straightened up a little, as if his weighted pride required extra support. "I'm calling it 'Calcelmo's Guide to the Falmer Tongue'. It will most certainly revolutionize the way we understand these ancient beings."

"Perhaps I could view your work?" I asked half-heartedly - I knew what the answer would be - the old man definitely wanted to spite me for some reason...

The old Altmer's eyes widened in disbelief, with the heavy bags of dried skin tightening as he narrowed his eyes into reptilian slits in distrust.

"Preposterous!" He cried aloud. "That research represents years of personal toil in some of the most dangerous Dwemer ruins in Skyrim!"

"So?"

"So, it's not finished!" He snapped. "You think I'd let anyone see it incomplete?" He muttered, scoffing. "Boy must be mad..." He turned away from me, back to his piles of books on an oak station, filled with brewing glasses of white and blue smoke. As he picked up some books, throwing them onto the stone floor, which was already occupied with strange books with various symbols on them, I noticed pages slip out and drift past stone tables around his work stations, filled with golden metal instruments and relics.

"But...I'm a great admirer of your work!" I tried to say as innocently as possible. He laughed out loud, and talked with his back to me.

"Do not think I am as easily swayed as some tavern wench, or merchant's daughter. Your gilded words may help them open their doors and spread their legs, but my doors will stay firmly shut." I clenched my jaw.

"Grant me access or else." I said, marching around to him, and opening a fist full of flames.

"Forgive me, at my age, death seems very familiar to me; many Mages have threatened me with it, and here I still stand. You will have to do more than a few parlour tricks to coerce me." He turned back to his work. "When I finish, you may see with everyone else."

"I can't wait for your perfectionist compulsions - I need to get in there now."

"Has no one ever told you to have patience boy? I'd think your father would have taught you patience..."

"My father is dead old man."

"That's a shame. Or rather, it would be if my sympathy extended to impetuous, self-righteous walk-ins." I gritted my teeth and let out and angry breath, looking around the work area as for a means of something - anything to throw at the elf. My eyes dropped onto a small brass key, hanging from his belt. I glanced at the Altmer's eyes, which were still fixated on his work. I outstretched a hand and focused on the shape of the key, feeling it's weight and size. Within a second, I summoned it over to me, catching it in my hand and concealing it up my sleeve. I looked back to Calcelmo, who hadn't noticed a thing.

"Fine, forget it then."

"Already have." He replied dryly. I turned around and marched out of the ruins, shaking my head in frustration at the arrogance of the old man.

As soon as I was out of the ruins, and by the entrance of the archaic stone keep, I examined the key: it was fairly small, and very light. It glimmered dully in the firelight, and seemed fairly old. If Calcelmo had been researching into the Falmer as long as he said he had, the key to his museum must have been equally old. There was a fair chance that this was it.

I moved down the crumbling corridors, and noticed a guard standing to attention, a golden door locked behind him. I figured this to be the museum, given how the door was scratched and scuffed, with the doors towering and weighty, probably to signify it's importance; the sort of place an Altmer would deem suitable to flaunt a lifetime of superior achievements.

The guard began to eye me anxiously as I approached. I kept my face clear, calmly walking up each step at a time until I came to the top. The guard rested his hand on the hilt of his axe, tilting it slightly towards me as I approached.

"Is this Calcelmo's museum?"

"Yes, no visitors today." He grunted in the familiar Nordic accent.

"Perhaps there is an early visitor's fee to pay?" The guard's eyebrow raised...

"A visitor's fee?"

"An early visitor's fee."

"An early visitor's fee?" He repeated in the same tone.

"Indeed. Let's say, fifty coins?" I saw the guard's eyes widen at the thought of spending the gold in a tavern. I opened the pouch on my belt and removed a small purse of twenty gold coins. "Here, as I said - fifty coins." The guard reached out for the purse, so as to feel the coins inside. I pulled the purse back. "Do we have an accord?" He nodded, an eager smile on the purse. I handed it over to him, allowing him to examine the contents, while glancing around cautiously for other guards. "Pleasure doing business with you my man." I grinned, allowing myself to slip past him, unlock the doors and go inside.

The interior of Calcelmo's 'museum' was hardly worth boasting about - the walls were cracked and fractured, which immediately made me very conscious of how much weight was depending on these broken bricks, all greying and rotten. However, the slabs were vast, a single block being at least six foot tall.

I looked to my right, noticing another series of guards. I darted to the wall, pushing myself up against it and very stealthily peering around the corner of the wall to see the pair of guards examining the museum's contents. I cursed silently under my breath, doubting I had enough coins to bribe all the guards an obsessive like Celcelmo would've hired.

I glanced my eyes around the room, noticing all the pools of oil and bursts of steam that littered the walls, violet pools of liquid seeping through the cracks of the floor; a sickly resemblance to blood as it swept through the cracks of the slabs. I turned my gaze back to the guards, taking note of their swords; they would have to come close to attack me.

I outstretched a hand carefully, trying to grasp one of the dozen golden pipes that clung to the shattered walls. I could feel the freezing cold steam coursing like blood through a vein. I closed my eyes to block out visual distractions, just like Mercer had taught me to. The thought of him boiled my blood. He made me so angry-

I cursed under my breath as I heard the guards yell out. I snapped my hand back and pressed my back up to the wall, not daring to look around at the guards.

"What the hell happened?"

"I hate this place! It's falling apart!"

"Calm down! A bit of steam bother you?"

"Calcelmo doesn't pay us enough for this... three guards died from a 'bit of steam' last week!" The annoyed guard muttered. "Who would break into a museum?"

"I don't know, thieves? I bet there's a lot of valuable things in here..."

"Yeah, well don't you go getting any ideas." The Nord guard said, a stern tone in his voice. "I need some mead." He turned around and walked out of the room.

I sighed in relief, then moved in the shadows, while the guard was still examining the golden pipe which had, by now, stopped expelling steam. I moved behind his back and silently opened the golden door on the opposite side of the room. Peering around the door, and seeing it empty (from guards anyway), quietly moved inside, soundlessly closing the door behind me. I straightened up, beginning to walk, although I still cautiously stuck my head around the corner before stepping out. The heavy clunks of the guards footsteps told me I had been wrong in moving freely. I scrambled backwards, pressing myself against the wall once more, listening to their footsteps stop. They were now in the middle of the room.

"Fantastical." I mumbled. "I'm a thief breaking into a castle full of guards, and what do I get? More guards." I sighed. I examined this room: it was exceptionally bright for an underground chamber, but the light was only emanating from the torches in the middle of the large hall. I crept from my corner to a broken pillar, grabbing the corner and peeking at the guards, who all sat in the light, drinking. "Nords." I muttered - always drinking. I remained crouched and stretched out my senses again, feeling one of the glass bottles weigh heavily in one Nord's hands. I grinned to myself and narrowed my eyes for a moment, focusing on the bottle. The bottom rim of the glass exploding on impact with the ground, the mead spraying along the dust-ridden slabs. The now-empty-handed guard cursed loudly and crassly, as the other two guards laughed raucously. I began to move through the diversion, making my way through the chamber and down another passageway. I found another set of golden doors, which I opened as quietly as I could, slowly to avoid any creaking. I passed through the door, closing it as carefully as I could.

I ducked underneath a collapsed steam pipe, which was violently spitting steam, and moved through the collapsed passage, making my way up stairs and climbing over the rubble. Calcelmo was definitely the worst perfectionist I had ever encountered. He was also the most frustrating, and the most rude.

"What do you think this is?" I stalked through the chamber, making out two figures amongst the mist of fog.

"Another trap most likely. Those things are dangerous... three of the guards died when lower half flooded with steam last week." I immediately clasped a hand over my mouth and nose. The guards continued conversing in unintelligible clumsy accents before moving through the halls. I noticed them patrol down to where the fog was thickest, and made a logical choice to avoid them. I moved down the stairs and turned to my right, noticing the passageway filled with broken golden pipes, a thick emerald mist and corpses scattered across the flooded floor. I grabbed part of my oversized tunic underneath my leather armour and brought it up over my nose, allowing me to move my hands freely. I darted my eyes around the room, searching for a way through - I wasn't going to risk my life with a linen cloth.

A series of raised plates stood on each side of the flooded chamber. I stretched out my senses, trying not to breath in the foul smoke, and felt the plates loosely groan, vibrating through the water, sending ripples towards the corpses. I summoned my strength and pushed them down, sweat swiping down my face from my hairline as I strained my arms - it was like trying to push down buoyant rocks in neck-deep water.

I finally managed to push them down into the floor, and heard the hissing of the pipes stop, the gas slowly dissipating into the water, which became a thick, icidic blue. I tried to move forwards a few steps, keeping the stone plates down. I took a few more steps, then a few more, but in less than a minute, I had to stop to balance myself, keeping my arms outstretched and my hands strained, breathing raggedly as I took another step. I looked up, noticing I was nearly halfway across the room. I wouldn't be able to hold the plates down any longer...

I let go of them, and sprinted through the hallway, water splashing and gas hissing. I ducked under the sudden jets of the green mist, then slid underneath the final golden pipe, splashing through the water and skidding onto the stone floor once again. I pulled my wetted cloth off of my face, for fear of the poisonous water. I then straightened up, and began to climb through the rubble at the end of the tunnel, eventually coming out into a larger, grander room, with a large stone table, filled with golden valuables.

I dropped down silently onto the floor, dropping my hand onto the ground to steady myself. My hand pushed down, however, onto a large square plate, causing fire to shoot out of various corners of the room, one of which was directly opposite me. I raised my hands up to try and stop it in some way, but the figure in front of me bore the brunt, as she began screaming in agony, collapsing onto the floor and squirming and screeching in pain. The other guard in the room ran out in horror, leaving his friend to die. I crept towards the woman, examining the body. She was dead now. I guessed it was caused from the heart attack she would've had rather than the fire. I looked up at the steady jets of flames, and raised a hand, trying to suppress them. The fires managed to die out eventually, becoming nothing more than hisses of air. I looked up - rusted pylons had emerged from the floor, spearing through several Dwemer artifacts. I moved cautiously through the room, terrified of stepping on anymore plates.

As I approached the next door, I saw it. A fantastic masterpiece. A calling of larceny I had so rarely experienced in my life. I grinned to myself as I made my way towards it; a small bronze box stood beside two candles on a mantle. It had curious and intricate designs and carvings engraved onto each side. I picked it up, turning it over in my hands - it was more or less half the size of my hand. I began moving one of the many small circles around, which caused three others to turn around in unison. My grin widened. It was a puzzle box. Like the ones I used to have in home...

I imagined this to have been a toy of a Dwemer boy. He must have loved it, for it to have been in such good condition long after they had died out. I decided I would keep this, if nothing else from this museum. This was my fee for risking my life once more without knowing why.

I placed the puzzle box in my pouch and began to move through the door again, and saw a magnificent site. I was outside, in the bright sunrise, overlooking the entire city of Markarth. I straightened up, a ghost of a smile working its way across my mouth. I could see the mountains in the distance, as well as the rolling fields, with echoing trees swaying in the early morning breeze.

I sighed, realizing that I couldn't stay and admire the view for long. I turned to my right, and followed the only path, leading up the stone stairs and through another set of golden doors, once more delving into the mountainous keep.

The inside here was just as ruined as the rest of the museum, which didn't surprise me - why would it be? A large walkway was paved with a tattered rug, leading me down the centre of the room, and towards a flight of stairs, which I climbed. I came to a small platform that jutted out into a balcony overlooking the walkway. I looked at the archaic monument in front of me; it looked as old as the rest of Markarth, with cracks like rivers along the sides. It was some type of alter, or gravestone. I couldn't decide which, but an engraved face of a hideous goblin-like creature was set on the top of it. I spent a few moments looking up at it, still and slightly afraid it would come to life. A second later, I realized how idiotic I was being - they probably engraved that to scare off thieves. I chuckled to myself and knelt down, examining the stone; it was covered in a series of markings, all resembling the language in Garrus' journal.

With a smile, I removed my hood for a better view and began to look around for something to copy the writing onto. There were a series of stone tables behind me, all filled with Dwemer junk and cluttered with writings and scrolls - there must have been some spare. I looked around, finally finding a scroll that was plain and unused - on one side anyway. I grabbed a piece of charcoal as well, knocking over a strange golden box as I did so. I came back to the writings on the stone and placed the paper up over it, rubbing the charcoal all over the stone, grinning to myself as the writings appeared on the paper.

"Thank you Calcelmo." I muttered to myself, rolling up the paper carefully, to avoid smudges, and placing it in one of my pouches.

I shot my head up at the sudden noise of the door crashing open, and scrambled down behind the stone, tucking in my arms so to hide completely. I snuck my eye around the stone, and examined the four new-comers.

"Accidents like this don't just happen!" The first man, an Altmer clad in golden elvish armour, exclaimed angrily. "Someone is trying to sabotage my uncle's research." I rolled my eyes. Of course he'd be Calcelmo's nephew - he's just as arrogant. The second man, who walked besides the Altmer was an older man, probably a veteran, but also a Breton, which I noticed through his accent.

"I...oh, all right." He resigned with a sigh. "If there is a thief, he won't leave this tower alive. But shouldn't we inform Master Calcelmo?" The altmer turned around angrily, pointing an accusing finger at his soldier.

"I'll deal with my uncle." He hissed. "Just... go! Scour this place from top to bottom!" He commanded, with the other two men grudgingly obeying. I recognized his voice as he raised it - he was the soldier who sprinted out of the trap room, screaming as he left his friend to die. I shook my head - I really hated Markarth.

I pulled my hood back up and, remaining crouched, I sprinted along the side of the balcony, leaping across the stairs and grabbing onto a ledge jutting out from the wall. I pulled myself up onto it, trying not to make sounds as I peeled the grazed skin off of my hands. I moved along the ledge, still crouched to avoid making any noise. The ledge led me around the walkway and towards the door, where two of the guards stood, the other two searching for me. I dropped down and began to silently open the door...

A loud crash made everyone, including myself, look outside the door; a guard fell onto the floor, his armour crashing horribly against the stone and his yells loudly echoing across the chamber. I cursed as the men charged towards me.

The first man was heavy, throwing large swings around towards me. I ducked under the first one, then side-stepped the second, grabbing his wrist as he jabbed to impale me, and threw my fist into his unguarded face.

I moved back through the door as the other guard came towards me, swiping quickly at me. I jumped back and threw a hand out, a burst of fire shooting into him, burning his clothes and making him drop to the floor in a panic.

The first guard was back up, and roaring a barbaric battle cry as he raised his sword in the air heroically. I threw a hand out to punch him as he approached, but instead, he went flying back into the walkway. I spent no time pondering over my magic as I sprinted along the balcony, stopping besides the waterfall that collapsed behind the balcony. I saw the three men approach steadily and together as I raised my hands in fire. The water behind me began to sizzle the flames. I had to think quickly - I doubted I could fight them all. Not to mention the guards that stood in the rooms I came through. Also, I didn't think that Calcelmo's nephew would admit a surrender - not that I would ever surrender to a man like him anyway.

The Altmer approached me, twirling his sword as his hand brightly burned with ice. I took two steps back as he approached me, eyes fixated on his sword. This seemed like it... this seemed like how I would die.

He swung at my throat, causing me to lean back, and my waist felt the cold stone of the railing, and then all my weight shifted to my shoulders... and I was weightless. I fell down the waterfall, cursing loudly as I did so, trying not to hit any of the rocks, although my attempts were unneeded, as I didn't have to worry about the jagged cliff face, just the drop. I saw a large pool at the bottom, steam flowing around the sides of it from smelting ore and burning wood or coal. I slammed into the water, going several feet under before I resurfaced, feeling an aching pain all over my body from the impact. I gasped for air, pulling myself out of the water and onto a wooden platform full of miners and slowly straightened up, walking across the wooden supports amongst the flurried anxious faces. I waved a tired hand to some of them, then pulled my hood back up, making my way towards the gates before any of the guards tried to arrest me.

As I finally made my way out, I couldn't help but mutter to myself.

"I'm going to kill Karliah."

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, it was a drag to write at times, but I've enjoyed it... in a twisted way. I'll see you next chapter - it's not going to be as long as this though, it's more of a story progression chapter than anything else.

Remember to leave a review - I'm anxious to hear what you thought about this chapter... if you want more of this sneaking, if you want more fighting, if you like it more realistic with Tenebraeus being pretty... well, clumsy. Also, tell me what you want - more into Tenebraeus' background, or more into what kind of character he's becoming...?

Remeber, brownie points for whoever got the reference at the start of the chapter!