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FALNAS
A Chance Occurrence
City of Riften, entrance to the Ratway
Falnas looked around skittishly, making sure no one was following or observing him. If these people were going to welcome him into the Guild, he'd better make sure he didn't appear like a blundering amateur. It was getting cold, and the moon reflected off the canal, the silvery light making it all appear even more chilly. The entrance to the Ratway was on the lowest tier of the city, where wooden jetties and walkways were built on the canal that formed a ring around the city centre. The lowest tier stank of dead fish and rotting water vegetation. How people could live in such a place was beyond him. He stomped his feet on the wooden walkway against the cold, but immediately stopped when he heard how much noise it made. Dammit, all he could do was hug himself and shiver.
"Falnas," a familiar voice hissed behind him. In the open doorway stood Sapphire, a scowl on her face. "Stop standing there like an idiot and get in here."
Falnas ducked into the doorway and found himself in complete darkness as Sapphire closed the door behind him. Feeling around in the dark, his hand touched a soft surface with the texture of hard leather. Instantly, a hand slapped down hard on his.
"Keep your paws to yourself!" Sapphire's voice snapped at him. The next moment, there was a bright glow of light as a torch was lit, and Falnas found himself looking at Sapphire's angry face. Her fault for leaving him in the darkness.
"Now quit goofing off and come on," she ordered, leading the way through the tunnels. They weren't high enough to stand up in, and Falnas quickly began to feel pain in his lower back. He didn't complain and stalked after the woman.
"Tripwire," Sapphire indicated, not stopping. Falnas stepped over it and stayed close to her. It was dark, but he certainly didn't mind having a nice ass to look at while he crept.
"Floor plate." One of the tiles had no moss or filth on it, the sure sign of a pressure plate. Falnas didn't want to know what would happen if he stepped on it, but he guessed it had something to do with the small holes in the masonry on either side. She led him into a side corridor, and then another, and it was hard for Falnas to stay oriented. All these corridors looked the same with their wet masonry, illuminated only by the light of Sapphire's torch, and their rotten sewer stench.
"Another tripwire, floor plate right after."
Falnas stepped over the tripwire and made an extra large step to avoid the pressure plate. Sapphire pointed up. "Crystal chimes." Small, barely visible crystals hung from a thin thread. They weren't dangerous as such, but they made a terrible noise when brushed against, alerting anyone in the vicinity. "Step over this moss-covered part." Falnas did so. Most likely a deadfall, probably with interesting spikes at the bottom.
Another left turn, another right, and they came to a door. "Now if you value your life," Sapphire said to Falnas, "you'll keep your mouth shut and speak only when spoken to."
He didn't much care for the arrogant tone, but he wasn't intent on squandering his possibly only chance to let the Thieves' Guild know who he was. Sapphire inserted a strange block-shaped key into the lock and the door creaked open.
They emerged into a large round vault, ringed by water, with four walkways leading to a round stone platform in the middle. Three people stood on the platform, one burly-looking Nord with shoulder-length hair and a row of daggers carried on a bandolier across his chest, a Breton in his forties with a shaved head and black leathers, and… oh shit, the woman with the blue dress! Oh, this was trouble. Falnas checked, and was about to bolt for the exit when Sapphire whispered to him, "Listen to what they have to say, you idiot!" She subtly pushed him in the back to get him moving.
Swallowing laboriously, Falnas shuffled to the platform, avoiding the eyes of the black-haired woman.
"This him?" The Nord said, his voice heavy with Skyrim dialect.
Sapphire merely answered, "Yes."
It was the Breton's turn to speak. "Mate, you may be the biggest moron I've ever met, but you're not too stupid to realize who we are, roight?" He spoke in a strange dialect, probably one from the farthest reach of High Rock.
"The uh, Thieves' Guild, correct?" Falnas said, taking care not to sound intimidated and succeeding almost perfectly.
"That's roight, the Guild. Boy's at least got 'alf a brain in that 'ead of 'is," the Breton said in his rough voice.
"So," the Nord asked him. "You must be new to Skyrim? Only explanation I can think of. That, or you're stupider than a gutted fish."
The woman in blue still hadn't spoken, and he hadn't met her gaze yet.
"I don't know about stupid," Falnas said, sounding as confident as he dared, "but I'm a damn good thief, which is why you've called me here, correct?"
"'Good' is relative," the Nord said, making Falnas' heart speed up. "You've got fast and nimble fingers, sure, but your choice of marks, well…" he chuckled. "It leaves a lot to be desired."
Finally, the woman in blue spoke. "I hope for your sake that you haven't the faintest idea who I am?"
"Indeed I don't," Falnas said.
"Show some respect for the lady, yeah?" the bald Breton commanded.
Falnas cleared his throat and repeated, "Indeed I don't, madam."
"Good," the woman in blue said imperiously. "Not knowing who I am just saved your life. For now."
This conversation wasn't really going well. Falnas realized the gold the brooch was worth was the least of his worries now. The Thieves' Guild were all about business, so they weren't prone to simply killing off people who displeased them like those Brotherhood maniacs, but that didn't mean they never decided someone had to be shut up for good, and they certainly didn't mind breaking a few bones, knowing full well the guard looked the other way as long as they didn't drop any dead bodies. And Falnas didn't feel like being beaten to a pulp.
"Like I said, madam," Falnas repeated, "I haven't had the honour of learning your identity. I just arrived in Riften this morning."
"I believe 'im," the shaved Breton said. "'e dun't talk like a bloody moron, so let's give 'im the benefit of the doubt." The man talked like he had a cold, as if his nose was clogged.
"Agreed," the Nord said, making Falnas release an imperceptible breath of relief. "Let's chalk his mistake up to ignorance rather than a death wish." He quickly added, "If that's alright with you, lady Maven?"
The woman was silent for a while, then said, with condescending arrogance, "Yes, I suppose we can't punish people for being stupid." Phew, looked like he'd dodged the arrow. "Your name?"
"Falnas, madam."
"How quaint. My name is Maven Black-briar, and stealing from me is either very foolish, or very suicidal. Luckily for you, I'm prepared to attribute your blunder to foolishness this once. I shall leave the rest to Delvin and Brynjolf." She threw her cloak over her shoulder and turned away. "Do not expect this kind of mercy from me again."
The eyes of the Breton and the Nord standing in front of him were urgent. Right, he supposed he had to thank the conceited woman. "It won't happen again, madam, and I won't forget your mercy." If there was one thing Falnas learned in his life, it was that honour and defiance only sent you faster to the grave, so if he had to grovel to stay alive, he would. Humiliation was better than death every time.
"You had better not." And with that, she strode away, towards a giant of a man with a warhammer carried across his back, who'd been standing in the shadows until now. They left the cistern through a door in the side. Probably a short cut back to the city for important people.
"As you may 'ave gathered, mate, you stole from the most big-'eaded bitch in town." The deference was apparently only a matter of courtesy in her presence. "That's embarrassin' for us, you see."
"We don't take kindly to freelancing in our city," the Nord continued. "If you're a thief in Riften, you're either with the Guild, or you get beaten all the way to the city gate. The choice is yours, either you join the Guild, or you wake up outside of the city gates with a few broken bones and nothing but your undergarments."
Ultimatum or not, Falnas had hoped for this question. "Are you asking me to join the Thieves' Guild?"
"No, you pillock," the Breton said, irritated. "We're tellin' you you're either joinin' the Guild or learnin' a trade."
Smiling broadly, Falnas said, "I'm too lazy to make an honest living, and I'm not about to let my considerable thieving skills go to waste. I'm ready for a job right now, if you've got one to give."