"A taste?" I raised one eyebrow skeptically. "Of wealth you mean?"
He nodded with a smirk. "Aye lad. The organization I represent is in the business of wealth, and I think you could be of some use. How about it?" He folded his arms over his chest as thoughts ran through my head. This man had to be Thieves Guild, I was almost entirely sure of it by this point.
"I don't see why not. After all, I could use a few septims." I smiled amicably before continuing. "What did you have in mind?"
The man jerked his head over towards the bazaar. "You're going to steal a silver ring from Madesi's stand and drop it in Brand-Shei's pocket." He said it as though it were the most simple thing in the world.
"And how exactly am I supposed to do that?" The bazaar was brimming with people, and I couldn't see any easy access to either the stall or the pocket as it was currently.
"Leave that to me, lad. Just get over to Madesi's stall." He commanded, and I found myself nodding assent immediately at the tone.
I left the bazaar and strolled along the edge of the upper walkways until I noticed everyone in the bazaar flock towards Brynjolf. Once they were all distracted, I ducked out of sight behind the Argonian's stall. I produced a lockpick from one of the pockets of my vest and proceeded to make a mockery of the simple lock on the strongbox. I snatched the silver ring, as well as a few septims and an amethyst, before moving from stall to stall over towards Brand-Shei.
As I got closer I could hear Brynjolf calling out about how potent the elixir was and how cheaply it could be theirs. I had to stifle a scoff as I heard a few people actually consider purchasing it. As carefully as I could, I dropped the ring into Brand-Shei's pocket before backing away.
After standing back up in an alleyway and returning to the bazaar in a way that was not suspicious, I approached Brynjolf once more.
"Well done, lad." He congratulated me and glanced beyond my shoulder to where a few guards were leading Brand-Shei off to the prison. "I'm almost surprised you succeeded, but we could certainly use someone like you in our organization."
"Sure just tell me where to meet you." I responded eagerly as I held out my hand for the pay he had promised me.
As the coinpurse dropped into my waiting hand, Brynjolf tutted quietly. "Not quite lad. Make your way to the Ragged Flagon down in the ratway if you think you're good enough."
I scoffed and nodded. "Of course I'm good enough. I'll see you there soon."
Brynjolf smirked and sauntered off while I entered into the Bee and Barb for a quick bottle or seven of ale.
After drinking two bottles of ale and eating a shepherd's pie, I strolled back out onto the street before slipping quietly down to the walkway beside the river. My nose crinkled at the smell of refuse and other such detritus. The armpit of Skyrim indeed.
Given that it was nearing midnight, I surmised that the only unlocked door would have to be the one that led to the ratway, and so I snuck about trying to open each door that I passed. Soon I came to a gate which opened with a creak, followed by a stout wooden door that opened easily. This would be interesting.
The first sounds I heard as I snuck into the ratway was the sound of voices. I quickly crept back into a small recess in the wall and pulled my dagger from its sheath. The steel blade glinted softly in the darkness. After a few moments, the discussion ended and footsteps began to head in my direction. A man clothed in fur armor and wielding a mace passed in front of me, heading towards the exit of the ratway. I left my spot in the wall's niche and snuck up behind the man; the blade of my knife easily cut through the back of his neck and pushed between two of the vertebrae.
My other hand had covered the man's throat, and I eased him silently to the ground before retracting my blade and wiping it off on his clothing. After dragging the corpse over to the recess in the wall, I continued on into the sewer. I hadn't gone ten steps when another man entered into my line of sight. This one had a rather lovely bow over his shoulder and was pacing back and forth in front of a doorway.
It was easy enough to get my bow off of my shoulder and get an arrow prepared to fire. I waited until the man began to pace away before releasing the string and watching the arrow fly forward and embed itself within the man's back. I quickly moved forward and grabbed his bow before continuing on my way.
A simple drawbridge was raised, blocking my path to the flagon. From what I could tell there was no way to lower it from my side of the gap, so I instead dropped into the gap and went to the nearest door. I had nearly opened the door when I noticed a small rope going into some kind of mechanism within the door. I stopped my movement immediately and took a lockpick out of my pocket. The lock was simple enough, and nothing lunged at me after I had picked it.
As I gazed into the small holes lining the door, I saw a small glint from the firelight as it played off of a metal spike. Apparently that is what was supposed to have happened when the door was opened. It was certainly a good thing that I had recognized the trigger, as becoming an Imperial kabob was not on my list of things to do.
It took me a little over an hour, but I finally made it safely into the Ragged Flagon bar. I brushed a few flecks of drying blood off of my shoulder. Most of it wasn't mine. My bow, along with the new one I had acquired from the scum near the entrance, was on my shoulder.
As I approached the bar area, I overheard the bartender speaking about how Brynjolf and his ilk were a dying breed. As if thievery would ever disappear. Brynjolf merely smirked and gestured one hand towards me.
"Then what is that, Vekel?"
The bartender blustered for a few moments before waving his hand dismissively and returning to the tankard that he was cleaning. Brynjolf then turned to face me directly.
"I hope you didn't have too much trouble getting here, lad." He questioned in a light tone of voice, his eyes betraying nothing more than curiosity.
"Of course not. That was easy." I replied easily with a nonchalant shrug of the shoulders. It was nothing compared to stealing from a bandit ringleader in his own keep down in Cyrodiil.
"Talented and headstrong. You're turning out to be quite the catch, lad." He replied with a short chuckle. "On to business though. If you think you can handle it."
I nodded silently, waiting for more instructions. After a moment he continued on.
"We need to remind the people of this city that we are not to be trifled with. I want you to go collect a few debts. Your targets are Haelga, Keerava, and Bersi. They run the bunkhouse, The Bee and Barb, and the Pawned Prawn - respectively."
I mentally took note of the instructions as Brynjolf spoke. Once he had stopped, I spoke up.
"So after this, I will be a member of the guild?" I didn't bother asking for help with the debts. If I couldn't figure out how to collect them myself, then I didn't particularly deserve to be a part of the Thieves Guild.
"Aye, lad. You'll officially be one of us." Brynjolf nodded. "Now get out there and bring us back some coin."
I turned on my heel at his dismissal and left the Ragged Flagon quickly.