Dear Reader,
The last chapter provided us with the on-going tensions within the Thieves Guild, our current chapter provides us with attempts of the Dragonborn to complete the task set by Guild Master Mercer.
Stolen Heart
By: Anonymous
- Chapter 7: The Impossible Job -
Cathryne took a final swig of her potion of Stamina. It instantly filled her with the renewed vigour she needed to keep her eyes open. So far the 24 hour stakeout had been nothing short of unbearably dull and for a few of those seemingly endless moments she had considered walking away from the job, but, she knew her heart was already caught up in the Thieves Guild. Her heart was caught in more ways than she had anticipated and the thought of abandoning it felt like an impossible act.
Her life, up until she received the mantle of "Dovahkiin", had been a lonely one and she had lived for a long whilst as a wanderer. Her decision to cross back in to Skyrim, was supposed to be a new break and a chance at something new – something better. Instead, it had been an endless spiral of misdeeds and awkward decisions.
She watched as the mercenary, that she had taken to naming 'Cutthroat the First', had finished peeing against the manor for the 13th time. Cutthroat the First, after relieving himself, would resume his patrol – which appeared to be the entire outer perimeter of the mansion. It normally took him 15 minutes to briskly walk from his starting point and back.
She returned to her musings as he left her vision; she had left the Imperial heartland of Cyrodiil after losing her parents to a necromantic cult. Their bodies had made 'good materials' according to the coven leader. His dying corpse had given her some limited closure, though not enough to put her mind at ease. After that harrowing moment in her life, she couldn't stand Cyrodiil and had decided to return to Skyrim in order to return her parent's ashes to their homeland and to forge a better life for herself.
Initially she resolved that Skyrim would be different: she would find a trade other than fighting and she would settle down and look forward to old age. Instead of finding a hamlet to live in, she found an Imperial ambush, the Jarl of Windhelm also known as the Stormcloak leader, and due to a bad turn of fate herself, clapped in irons…
It still seemed impossible that she had been ready for the axe man one moment and then fleeing from Alduin, the devourer of worlds, the next. She absently mused that this would make a very dramatic book, if she had any talent for writing – which she did not.
She looked up as the familiar crunch of leaves drew closer, Cutthroat the First had made it around the premises, again, and this time he was joined by one of his comrades, Cutthroat the Third.
"You're stalling." She thought, and roused herself in to a stealthy crouch. The 24 hour surveillance had paid off, she knew what Cutthroat the First and Third would do on their rounds and this would give her the chance to reach the mansion undetected.
Cathryne made sure to avoid the patch that Cutthroat the First had taken to peeing on before pressing on towards the imposing door of the mansion. In her mind the moments were ticking by, she would not have long to pick the door lock. Luckily, picking treasure chests of all shapes and sizes had provided her with some practical lessons and picking the locks on the Guild's test-chests had also been very useful.
The lock was well fortified and the remnants of 10 picks lay strewn around her before the lucky eleventh provided the sweet click of a lock giving way. The door opened and she snuck inside, in to the gloomy shadows beneath the stairs. The map she had swiped from the Guild Master's table drawer provided her with a basic layout of the three-floor mansion. Though the map gave her no clue as to where the statue would be kept, she assumed it would either be the top floor or the basement.
"Oy! You idiots deaf or somethin'!"
A voice boomed from over head and she stiffly squashed herself against the shadowy corner under the stairs whilst looking around partly with the aching worry that she had already been caught, moments after arriving.
"Geez! What!" a voice came from a corridor to her right as a pair of mercenary's boots walked in to view.
"I said dinner's ready. You want some or you suckin' up to the boss?"
"You'd never say that to her face." The mercenary retorted.
"Shut up. While she's in Riften I say we enjoy some good food and mead."
"Haha well you ain't plannin' on drinkin' Black Briar Mead then, right?"
"You bet your ass I'm not! Found some imported gear, good stuff."
"Alright. Sounds good."
The boots walked out of Cathryne's view and up the stairs, a deep sigh of relief escaped her as the sound of boots and mercenaries voices disappeared. She took the moment as an open opportunity to explore the basement. Keeping her movements small and steady, she crept towards the basement and found it to be locked by another impressive lock, this time luck seemed to be guiding her hand and she opened it with the first pick.
The smell of musty wooden barrels greeted her nose followed by the mixed aroma's of various foods, most prominently; a stinky wardrobe of cheeses.
The plans guided her through the basement towards the most secluded part of the basement, logically the hardest room to get to would be the best place to stash valuables. She opened the door and found a room that was completely empty. The bareness of the room, versus the well stocked larders and wine cellar, seemed out of place. She looked for clues.
After a thorough investigation of every nook and cranny, she found that there was a hidden button under the central floorboard. She pushed it and watched as the back wall of the room slid away to reveal a stair case. She wanted to jump up and down with joy at her discovery, but restrained herself
Cathryne took a deep breath, calming herself, before descending in to the hidden stairwell.
A button on the other side of the faux wall panel closed it back up again and blanketed her in thick, inky darkness. She crouched down and continued to descend in to the depths,
The stairwell branched out in to a long corridor. She looked down it but could see no sign of any other people. Her search continued, she checked each room as she came across doors but found nothing that resembled the Statue of Zenithar. Once more, the Guild Master's table had proven itself invaluable having provided her with a detailed legend of the Status of Zenithar and its creation along with a reference sketch which she hoped was accurate. The story stated that the statue had been created by the Priests of Zenithar in tribute of the Divine. It was then stolen by a master thief who was working with a talented enchanter. The enchanter harnessed the powers of Oblivion to grant it the curious power that Mercer was now interested in.
The last door was locked by three different locks, the very presence of the extra locks filled Cathryne with a sense of hopefulness; such a fortified room would be a good place to store a precious enchanted statue.
The locks took a considerable amount of teasing and coaxing. Each lock seemed to have been created by a masterful artisan craftsman and was filled with intricate quirks. This did not dissuade Cathryne, however, she continued to work the locks with a calmness that surprised even herself.
The final lock snapped and collapsed, she bit her tongue to stop the involuntary squeal that wanted to escape her as the blasted door finally opened. She walked in and she briefly thought of the fact that if this was anyone else's house, then she could have tried shouting the doors down. Something about that thought gave her the mental image of a frowning Greybeard. She chuckled and wondered just what Arngeir would make of her now? She suspected he would simply say that the voice was guiding her, or something to that effect, but it was not the voice. In her opinion, it was her own mind making the same odd choices that she always had, much like her father and his snap decision to leave Skyrim when she was small.
She shook her head and scolded herself; dwelling on past events would not get her out of Maven Black Briar's mansion alive and with the stupid Statue of Zenithar.
The room was filled with glittering treasures. There were numerous pots and baskets each one overflowing with gold and flawless, precious gemstones. There was a display case that was packed tight with rings and necklaces and an entire wardrobe loaded with fine works of art. In the centre of the room, atop a custom-made plinth, was the Statue of Zenithar.
Cathryne neared the key object. Just as the book had depicted, it was an abstract carved lump of ebony. The main body looked distinctly anvil-like, but the anvil was adorned with numerous glyphs and runes, including several triangular shapes and swirls that were inlaid with gold. In the centre was a deep groove which was currently filled with sapphires and rubies, each and every stone was flawless. The chunk of ebony glowed with an eerie golden light and hummed with the various enchanted energies that surrounded it.
She looked around the plinth for any traps and found none. With her concerns of being blown up by a trap sated, she reached out and picked up the solid, heavy object. It was even heavier than it looked and she quickly realised that getting out with the statue would be even harder than reaching it had been.
"All I have to do is escape." She thought to herself, looking down at the ebony chunk in her hands. "That's it. That's all I have to do… Just escape!"
She hurried out of the room, ignoring all of the other shimmering treasures it contained. Her legs moved as quickly and quietly as they could to get her back down the dingy hidden corridor. She scaled the staircase and pushed the button to open the faux wall. It slid away and she inched towards the door, looking through a small crack at the surrounding basement area. There was no sign of any mercenaries, so she took a gamble and quickly made her way out of the hidden room. The further she got from the treasure room, the heavier the ebony statue felt. She began to wonder whether it had been further enchanted to try and discourage thieves from taking it. She bit her lip and resolved to get it back to the guild…
Cathryne quickly scaled the stairs out of the basement and found that the ground floor was now being well patrolled by numerous mercenaries. Her heart sank, sneaking by this many people would be difficult and fighting was likely to get her identified as a member of the Thieves Guild. If she was caught an identified she knew that Mercer would see to it that her ass would be rotting in jail for the rest of her life, she couldn't give him the satisfaction of her untimely demise.
"There's only one way I'm going to get out of this…" she thought and closed her eyes, trying to recall the only shout that would help her to escape.
"FUL MEY GUT!" she shouted, and even as she said it, she could hear it booming halfway across the mansion. Quietly she observed from her hiding place as all of the near by mercenaries stood up and started to run towards the perceived source of the voice. They drew their weapons and charged off to find the 'intruder', leaving her with a clear view of the exit.
She didn't wait to see what would happen, she got up, grabbed the statue and dashed for the nearby front door. She opened it and poked her head out, there were no mercenaries immediately visible, so she hurried away from the mansion and around to the stables. There, she found a sack which she used to conceal the Statue of Zenithar. Hauling it over her shoulder, she ran as fast as her legs would carry her, across the woodlands that surrounded the mansion and back towards Riften.
It was then that she heard the unmistakable roar of a dragon…
- End of chapter 7 -
^^; Once again I was inspired to write over the weekend and created a few chapters... this is the last one I'm going to upload tonight but expect more tomorrow!