Neshoba whines.

It smells in here...

I roll my eyes at him, but he is right. The Ratway leaves a lot to be desired, but I suppose that's expected. It is the sewage system for Riften, after all. As we trudge through tunnel after tunnel, in search of the Ragged Flagon, I recall my most recent conversation with Brynjolf. His smooth confidence coupled with his icy indifference makes him a difficult person to read. He told me all about the Thieves' Guild, about the Flagon and about the Ratway. He gave me vague directions on how to weave through these sewage tunnels and make it to the Flaggon, but I have forgotten them. Neshoba is a wonderful companion to have though. His heightened sense of smell makes things easier for me.

I look down into his topaz gaze and he sniffs the air. He starts down the corridor to our left, and I follow. Soon, we are fronted by three looters. They didn't see or hear us coming, thankfully. I pull on Neshoba's tail, beckoning him back. He obeys, hunching beside me in the dark.

The men are griping about riches and fortune to be found in the Ratway and I have to suppress a laugh. Riches, here? Please. See if you can make it into Mistveil Keep, then tell me about riches. I make another mental note to attempt to sneak into the Keep at a later date, apart from my Guild contracts once I make it in. I have every confidence in my abilities here. I haven't met a marksman yet that can out shoot me, or a thief that has stolen smoother than I have. Well...except Brynjolf.

I grin. What a stud he is. Sure, he's a human but...those eyes. The crimson tresses on his head. That sweet, jagged scar on the side of his face. And his masculinity...it practically exudes from him! I shudder. I'm going to have to advance on him. It will be an interesting undertaking.

The looters finish their conversation and Neshoba lunges at them, using his dog-fighting skills to the maximum. He cripples two of the looters and kill the third, leaving me to clean up his mess. I pull the ebony dagger from my boot and slit both of their throats, leaving them in a puddle of their own blood. I check their pockets and find 37 septims and a silver ring. The ring should sell for a decent price.

Further and further we go into the Ratway, sloshing through Riften's filth. Eventually, we come upon a door marked with a strange symbol - a diamond surrounding a small, hollow circle. It is emblazoned upon the wood of the door and I take the handle, pushing the door open. It leads into a large, cistern room with a small tavern in the back. I grin. It's the Flagon.

"Well, color me impressed lass!" Brynjolf exclaims, drawing the attention of the rest of the folks in the tavern. "I never thought I'd see you again."

I puff out my chest a bit and cross my arms. "Well here I am. What else do you have to throw at me?" I retort, grinning.

His doubt in my abilities only makes me want to prove him wrong. Perhaps he is trying to frighten me away with his negativity? It doesn't matter. I'll show him what I can do one way or the other.

Brynjolf chuckles a deep, throaty chuckle and my skin prickles. "So eager to prove your worth to me, eh?"

I raise an eyebrow. "You truly think yourself so important?"

His expression grows darker then, more...intimate. "You're here, aren't you?"

I swallow. He's got me there. I won't deny that a small part of me traveled through those skeever infested corridors so that I could see him again. His confidence draws me; I can't help myself. But it was only a small part. Minuscule, really. Practically nonexistent. I clear my throat and look away from him.

He hops up on a bar stool and crosses his arms over his chest. "Well Kyari. If you truly are as impressive as you think yourself to be, I do have a job for you." He pulls out a slip of paper from one of the dozens of pockets on his Guild armor, and hands it to me. "The people on this paper owe the Guild a great debt, but they've all decided not to pay. I want you to...persuade them otherwise."

I move to take the paper, but his grip doesn't loosen. I tug again and he leans closer to me, his eyes smoldering. "No killin'. Got it?"

I nod once, chewing on my lower lip. Control yourself, Kyari! He releases the paper and smirks, turning towards the bar and leaving me to it. He orders a bottle of Black-Briar mead and I turn, taking the hint, and move towards the exit. Neshoba looks up at me, his tongue wagging.

You like him.

I roll my eyes at the wolf and he grunts once, padding off in front of me. Damn dog. How is it that they are so perceptive?

"T-that was an authentic Dwemer vase! I had it shipped here for 400 septims!"

I lean on the counter and stare into Bersi Honey-Hand's eyes. "Either you pay up, or I go hunting for other rare and expensive items to smash. Your choice."

He looks at me, then the shattered vase. He runs a hand through his hair and bends, grabbing a coin purse from beneath the counter, plopping it into my hands.

"It's all there - 100 septims. Now get out of my store," he grunts, pointing at the door.

I bow cordially, a grin on my face, and saunter out of the Pawned Prawn. Damn, that was easy. The crazed look on Bersi's face any time he looked at that stupid pot was a dead give away that it was important to him. And that woman, Helga? She was so doused in perfume and slathered with make-up that it was obvious she was devoted to Lady Dibella. Once I found that statue, it was simple. And finally, those Argonians at the Bee and Barb...part of me felt guilty threatening them. They did give me a roof over my head. But I'm sure a little sweet talking will get me back in their good graces.

The trek back through the Ratway is so much simpler this time, now that I know where I'm going. A few turns, some long hallways and a lot of nose-pinching, and I'm back at the marked door. I burst through it, coin purses in hand, and saunter on over to the bar. I plop the purses beside Brynjolf's mug, startling him.

He quirks a brow at me. "Back already?"

I dust off my hands. "Impressed yet?"

He chuckles. "Hardly." He stands then, beckoning for me to follow.

He leads me through another archway and down a small hall, to a broom cupboard. "I think it's high time I show you what the Thieves' Guild is really all about." He winks at me and presses a hidden switch. Then, to my utmost surprise, the back of the cupboard shifts, revealing a hidden entrance. I follow him through the door to our left and into the Thieves' Guild hideout.

The room is massive, and there are so many people here! At least a dozen beds line the outer walls of this room alone, each with a personal belongings chest at the base. Not every bed is occupied, but there are...seven thieves in here at the moment. Most of them don't notice me or don't care to look. They are practicing archery, lock-picking and dagger work, or they're sitting at tables drinking and talking. The closer that I look, the more I realize that the room is dull. There are two run-down picnic tables at either side of the room and a few book shelves that hold moldy bread and old bottles of mead. The smell of mildew is heavy in the air and I also get a hint of animal droppings.

This place is a dump.

"Who is this Brynjolf? Another new recruit?"

I turn at the mention of my presence and am met by one of the grumpiest looking Nords I've ever seen. His hair is long, matted and dirty, face crinkled and frowning as he examines me from head to foot. And he stinks. Horribly.

"This is Kyari, Mercer. Found in her in the street with her hand in my pocket."

I frown at him. He makes me sound like some mediocre street-thug. I puff out my chest a little and put my hands on my hips.

"She did retrieve these, though," he adds, holding out the three coin purses that I hunted down in the city. I grin.

Mercer takes them and grunts. "That supposed to impress me, elf?"

I grimace. What a buzz kill. This guy is going to take some sweet talking.

"I assure you, I'll be an asset to this team. Possibly the best that you have."

Brynjolf snorts and Mercer barks out a laugh. "Don't kid yourself, girl. Any one of these thieves could empty your pockets right now if I gave the order." He leans forward and grins darkly. "It's gonna take more than words to earn your place here."

I nod once, swallowing. Why does he make me so nervous? As soon as I saw him I got a dark, creeping chill running up my spine. I'll have to keep my eye on him, even if he is the Guild Master.

"And what the hell is that doing in my hideout?" he asks, pointing to Neshoba.

I blink. I had almost forgotten he was here, he's so quiet. Neshoba pants quietly, his golden eyes staring up at Mercer with quiet curiosity. I smirk.

"He's with me. If you want me, Neshoba comes too."

"Neshoba?" Mercer mocks. "That one of your Bosmer words? Listen here, girl. We're the Thieves' Guild, and last time I checked, there ain't no animals in the word Thieves. He goes."

I shake my head. "No, he doesn't."

Mercer stares at me then, his eyes narrowing in a dark and foreboding glare. I stand my ground. This man has no power over me and I have no need to fear him. Neshoba growls quietly and I close my hand over his muzzle, silencing him.

"The Jarl has given me permission to have him in the city. Should I inform her that one of her citizens is going against what she wants?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow.

Brynjolf looks at me, wide eyed, but I hold firm. My eyes bore into Mercer's and he stares back for a few moments, then looks away. I have won.

"Just keep him out of sight until you need him. And if I start finding piles of dog shit around here, you're both gone. Got it?"

I nod, smirking arrogantly.

"Right." He sniffs, beckoning Brynjolf closer. "Bryn, tell her about Goldenglow. Get her some armor and find her a bed." He looks back to me with a glare. "Welcome to the Thieves' Guild."

Kyari has weasled her way into the Thieves' Guild without a hitch. Brynjolf's flirtations aside, will she be able to keep a cool head and perform her duties to a T? Will Neshoba get himself into trouble? And what of Mercer, and why does Kyari get such a dark feeling from him? Check back soon for more!