"You're the whelp she sent?"
Torina scowled at the man through the opening of her hood. In order to make it past the guards at the gate she had used red mud packed by her mistress to mask her Dunmer skin to something more similar to a redguard woman's complexion. The actual redguard who worked the forge at the entrance to the city had looked at her strangely, the red eyes giving Torina away, but she hadn't raised the alarm. She would need to address that with her mistress for any future missions. Not that dark elves like her were never in the hold capital; she'd garnered a reputation for thieving and questionable magic she needed to avoid for this task.
The man before her had taken ver few precautions hiding himself, though. Torina could see the curious looks his complicated leather clothing was attracting. No simple farmer or traveler was he. Most of the other patrons boasted dust on their heels and the plainest of jewelry on their necks.
Settling her loose robes around her, Torina sat heavily down into the seat across from him. The bulky Nord woman at the able across from them glanced between them, narrowed her eyes, but returned to her mead and bread without comment. Torina wasn't concerned with what the woman thought of her, meeting a much older man late at night in a tavern, and pushed the woman's face from her mind.
"And you're the man from Mallory," Torina said. "I imagined you to be...less conspicuous."
A bark of laughter left the man's lips. It washed the smell of dark ale over Torina, passing through the thin cloth around her head easily. She found it unpleasant but the man had nicer teeth and fresher breath beneath that cloud of alcohol than many of the men she'd met in cities far poorer than this one. Like a fine horse, it showed how well he was taken care of. Torina's stomach rumbled at the thought.
"Can't have that," the man said, tearing part of his bread off for her. She carefully passed pieces below her hood after passing a hand over the food, checking for poison. That action made him raise a brow. "Smart whelp, then. You can call me Killjoy."
"Your mother was not a kind woman," Torina quipped.
Killjoy barked a softer laugh. "You're lucky I'm not fond of my mother, girl. Another Nord would brawl you for less. And your name?"
Torina finished her mouthful of bread before answering. As the first fresh food she'd eaten that day she wished she could savor it. "Biter."
"I'll not ask how you earned that one."
The man could tell easily that she was using a false name, same as he, and the nickname made him smile wide enough to show most of his teeth. Torina found herself very curious of this tall and broad Nord with rosy cheeks, dark hair, and a far more relaxed temperament than any other of the thieves she'd worked with. He was so charismatic. That was a trait she envied, something she never learned how to mimic. Her aptitudes lay closer to quiet snark, sneaking about, and lashing comebacks. The few orcs that passed through Kynesgrove on the way to the stronghold nearby had always found her company amusing but she'd not won over anyone else in her current home.
"I've a plan on collecting this artifact your mistress is so keen on getting," Killjoy said later on that evening when they'd moved up to a rented room.
"I'm sure it's inspired," Torina said drily.
No one seemed to notice when she'd left the barroom before midnight and when the Nord followed over an hour later. Torina spent the time between cleaning her face of the heavy disguise for something far less flowy. Sneaking through catacombs or caves to nab an artifact would be far easier if she weren't getting a sleeve caught on something every few feet. Snapping the last belt around her midsection she put her hands on her hips and tried to stand taller. She was short, especially for her age which she guessed at close to twenty five years, but this Nord's height would dwarf most anyone. Torina was very curious to see how a man of his bulk could move carefully enough to steal anything.
Killjoy rolled his eyes at her tone, settling himself into the single chair in the room. "There's a meadery south of town that connects to catacombs underneath. Took me weeks and a satchel of septims to see where those skeevers were going. Another member of the Guild should be there tomorrow to meet with the owner's man to arrange a, shall we say, extermination deal."
"What does this have to do with the blade my mistress is searching for?"
"I'm getting to that, whelp," Killjoy said. "It will be a distraction for the hold's guards while we nab what will be stored there tonight. There's a few Vigilants of Stendarr carrying exactly what you need supposed to pass by around the same time."
"Vigilants?" Torina said. "What do they have to do with this? Why do they have the blade?"
Killjoy's eyebrows flew up into his messy hairline. "Do you really know what it is we're doing here-"
"Of course I do," Torina snapped back.
He noted how Torina flinched slightly when he leaned forward as she snapped at him, which made him scowl. Striking her was out of the question but her impudence made him react threateningly automatically. Brynjolf and Mercer warned him the girl was mouthy based on their prior experiences hiring Dravynea's girl-child. That movement was something he'd seen on many of the children living in Honorhall above the Guild. But, it was none of his business what went on between this girl and her mistress.
Flashbacks time continues! Thank you so much to those following, leaving reviews, and generally interacting with this. It makes the entire process more enjoyable :) I promise I'll reply to everyone when I get a chance.