It was a long ride to Riften - but still not much longer than it would be to any other Hold, since the Sanctuary was almost in the centre of Skyrim.
After about an hour of riding, my horse was starting to get tired, so we stopped at the edge of a forest for a rest. The horse instantly slumped to the ground, and I treated myself to a Sweetroll - a rare but guilty pleasure. After about half an hour of resting against a large rock, I noticed a slight tremble in the ground. Listening carefully, I heard a heavy pounding on the ground, getting louder and louder. Footsteps.
Cautiously, I peeked over the top of the rock to see a giant lumbering forward, evidently looking for something - no doubt it had lost a mammoth or two. Giants weren't the most trusting or intelligent of creatures, so if it saw me it would definitely attack. I took my greatsword from the scabbard on my back, grasping it firmly with both hands. I crouched low behind the rock, half-hoping that the giant wouldn't notice me.
I almost cried out in surprise as the heavy, pale foot of the giant slammed down on the ground, almost hitting my leg. I scrambled backwards along the ground, then climbed to my feet, readying my greatsword. The giant looked at me for a few seconds, confused, before it raised its massive, hand-crafted hammer and started to lumber towards me. I backed away as I assessed the situation. The horse was a capable fighter (as far as a horse could be, anyway) but was asleep, so that wouldn't be much help. I took a swing at the giant, making a long gash in its leg. The giant roared in anger and pain, and started to move quicker. I swung my sword again, but it swung its hammer at the same time. The two weapons collided, but the superior strength of the giant's blow won out, and my weapons was knocked from hands and clattered to the ground below. Now panicking slightly, I looked from weapon to giant to weapon, trying to work out if I could reach the blade before the giant could get in another hit. The answer was clear; I couldn't. All I had left were my twin daggers, and… of course!
I brought up both of my hands, and splayed my fingers wide. Out of each hand came twin streams of fire. The giant roared in pain and surprise as its hair caught alight. I shot another stream at its wrist, and it dropped the hammer. One final blast knocked back; it turned around and started to hurry away. I was almost disappointed - many giants would be to aggressive to back off, and would keep fighting to the bitter, bloody end.
Satisfied that the ten-foot creature would not be back for a while, I collected my greatsword and, after a moment of deliberation, took the giant's hammer too - I still had plenty of room to carry it on my horse's back.
Deciding that she had had enough rest, I roused the horse. It took about ten minutes to get her fully awake, before we set off once again for Riften.
Riften was, at first impression, a charming city. It was one of the smaller Holds in Skyrim, situated in the Southeast. Riften was at the forefront of the fish trade, situated on the edge of a large lake - the city was in fact built with two layers. The top layer was where the civilised people lived, holding the marketplace, the Temple of Mara, and of course the palace of the city's Jarl. The lower layer was basically a river with wooden walkways on either side and the occasional bridge to connect them. It was here that one could find the entrance to the Ratway, the place for criminals to meet and greet. It held the main hideout of the Thieves' Guild, an inn called the Ragged Flagon. The Flagon was not to my taste, so thankfully I was to meet my contact in the entirely more tolerable Bee and Barb inn, on the upper level.
The moment I entered I was approached by an overenthusiastic mage, offering me his companionship and insisting that he had prowess in Destruction magic. I ignored him completely, instead walking over to the bar and gesturing over the Argonian innkeeper.
'Excuse me,' I asked. 'I'm to meet a friend here. You couldn't tell me where-'
'Over there.' The Argonian interrupted, pointing at a table on the opposite side of the room. A woman in black armour and a hood was sat there, alone.
'Thank you.' I told the innkeeper, then made my way over to the table an sat down.
'That Nord mead, or Black-Briar?' I asked the woman, nodding to her drink.
'Ale,' She replied, looking up from a map that she had been previously studying. Several red crosses adorned it. 'And you?'
'Black-Briar. So, what about this Sacrament?'
'I've heard rumours of a Khajiit named Ahzirr performing the Sacrament. He lives outside of Skyrim, but he's currently staying in this inn. Nearest door to the stairs.'
'Well, that's easy. Is he in his room at the moment?'
'No, he left for the market about an hour ago. Should be back any minute.'
'Thanks. I'm going to need a distraction to get upstairs though, I'd rather the innkeeper didn't see me going upstairs without having a room rented and get suspicious.'
'Thought about that. See him over there?' She nodded at a middle-aged Nord, sat on a chair in a corner and surrounded by empty tankards.
'What about him?'
'He's blind drunk, and a show-off at that. If you want to, you can get him to cause a distraction.'
'Not a bad idea.'
With that, I stood up and walked over to the Nord, then took a seat next to him.
'Hey.' I said.
The Nord opened one bloodshot eye, and grunted in what I took as a 'Yes?'.
'I bet you're a terrible dancer.'
About half a minute later, I crept upstairs as, behind me, the drunkard Nord was doing an unrecognisable dance in which he threw both legs up, then fell to the floor before getting up and doing the same thing again, while singing an 'improved' version of The Age of Aggression:
'We drink lots of mead
And have lots of fun
But the age of aggression
Is nowhere near done
The Stormcloaks hate the Empire
But we know that they'll lose
In at most a year they'll be licking
The Emperor's shoes
Down with Ulfric!
Did a really bad thing
I think he shouted at someone
Something to do with the king?
But this land is the Empire's
And they'll make sure Ulfric fails
So 'till then, let's all just relax and
Have a tankard of ale.'
I'm not ashamed to say that even I chuckled once or twice, before inwardly scolding myself and reminding myself to shut up. The singing had stopped now, and I was pretty sure a guard had come in to shut the drunkard up.
Once I was on the first floor, I checked to make sure nobody was looking then gradually pushed open the thankfully unlocked door. The room was devoid of it's user, as the Sister had promised. However, on the floor was a skeleton encircled by candles and a knife stick between two of It's ribs. So, knowing that I was in the right room, I leaned against a wall, and waited.
