Chapter One
Maven Black-Briar was a woman who should never be trifled with. Young, beautiful, rich, powerful, and very hot-tempered, the young Nord was a deadly cocktail. For as long as I knew her, the woman held Riften in the palm of her hand. It mattered not if you were the lowliest beggar or the Jarl of Riften. You never angered Maven Black-Briar. Everyone knew this and never questioned it- well, everyone except the bright-eyed Dunmer who found herself in the dungeon.
I had my eye on her from the moment she entered Riften; I knew she was looking for trouble. The way she studied every potential mark in the crowd and how her eyes wandered from home to home to search for escape routes, these were habits of a practiced thief. I knew she was planning to hit our little town, but I was far too interested to see what she would do to try and stop her.
No sooner had Mundus slipped out of the sky did the Dunmer go to work. I watched her break in and out of homes, taking small things here and there that wouldn’t be missed, the bag on her back growing larger and larger. I was far too impressed to be angry at the girl. The shadows bent to her will in ways that they shouldn't have for the unaffiliated. There was a whisper in my ear, a shift in the wind, as I studied her from my own shadowed alcove. She was unique, a different breed of larcenist. I was almost going to let her go, hoping to meet up with her at a different time and place, until she set her sights on Black-Briar Manor.
Of all the homes, it was the one that we didn't dare touch. Maven and the Guild had a certain unspoken agreement at that point: she would leave us alone and turn a blind eye to our endeavors so long as we left her and her profits out of our schemes. It was well and good for us- there was a plethora of loot to be had elsewhere- but for that ambitious little elf, stealing from the Black-Briars would have been the ultimate prize.
She slipped past the guards and torchlight like it was child's play and set her sights on a damaged window on the third floor. She climbed up the wall with expert precision, each placement of her feet and hands on the wood face sure and sound. She would have made it to the top, I'm certain, if I hadn't thrown a small stone at the window next to her. At the soft ting on the glass, I watched her stop climbing, taking a moment to watch the stone topple to the ground. As luck would have it, young Maven was close enough to hear the noise, curiosity drawing her to the window.
She screamed as she was startled by the Dunmer, but the elf was much more caught off guard. She lost her footing, falling from the wall with a crash to the cobblestone road. Her stolen goods spilled from the bag, further condemning the woman when she found herself surrounded by guards. There was no fight to be had or excuse to be made when Maven stormed from her home, demanding the girl be executed. The only reason the elf was taken to the dungeon was so the Jarl could give an official decree.
As certain as I was that I would be getting an earful from Maven about one of my "friends" trying to steal from her, I couldn't help but feel bad for what I did. The girl, one of my own or not, had skills many dreamed of. Not every thief could scout a town and successfully pull off a heist in a matter of hours, let alone attempt multiple. But that elf, she was something else. I couldn't put my finger on it, but I knew she was different. That is why, rather than walking away, I decided to pay the deathrow Dunmer a visit.
I entered the prison through the doorway, my very presence enough to tell the guard to pay me no mind. He had seen me enough to know I usually meant business- and a tight jaw made him more coin than a wagging tongue. I shut the door behind me and let the relative silence of the prison guide me to the soft groans of the injured Dunmer.
Her cell was on the bottom floor, cold and damp and shrouded by darkness. I almost didn't see her at my approach. She found refuge in the farthest corner, resting her head against the knee she pulled close to her chest. She didn't seem to notice me until I let several small stones fall from my hand. "Rough night?" I asked her, keeping a calm tone.
Her eyes shifted to the stones then up at me. A scowl formed on her face as she growled softly, "You... You sabotaged my heist."
"I did." My simple reply seemed to annoy her more. "I didn't mean for you to get hurt though, so for that, I apologize."
"Don't patronize me," she responded looking away again. "Haven't you done enough?"
"Not yet," I told her softly, sticking my hand in my pocket to produce three lockpicks. She looked back at me, her expression softening greatly. "I mean it. I really wasn't meaning to get you hurt. Your skills are, I dare say, better than most of my organization's. I can't have you framing us for trying to steal from Maven Black-Briar though. That's just suicide."
"Your organization?" She slowly got to her feet, wincing as she walked over to me. At last, I was able to put a face to those impressive skills. Stripped of her makeshift armor, she was left in her under armor as it clung to her tall, lean form. Long raven hair framed a thin, speckled face. Her lips were a few shades darker than her ebony skin, but her eyes caught most of my attention. Rather than the vibrant red so many of her kind bore, they were the most brilliant shade of purple I had ever seen. It would be a lie to say I wasn't caught off guard by her beauty as I struggled for a response to her next question. "The Riften Thieves' Guild?"
"I... Yes, the Thieves' Guild," I finally managed to say, catching myself chuckle as she smiled just slightly. "You're awfully clever, aren't you? Why would you do something so foolish as to try and steal from our own city?"
"I was actually hoping to catch your attention," she explained, refusing to look away now that she had me more-or-less entranced. "Going around asking for you by name would put a target on my back. I know how you operate. I needed to do something to make you look for me, to ask for me by name."
I chuckled, "Well, you've done that now, haven't you?" With a faint nod from her, I continued, "Speaking of names, I'm Gallus Insidenius."
She bowed her head to me in greeting, the harsh feelings she harbored for me seeming to vanish rather quickly. She understood my intentions and that grudges would get her nowhere. As she looked back up at me she responded, "I'm Karliah. Karliah Indoril."
"Indoril?" It had been many years since I had heard the name uttered, but it still put a warm feeling in my chest. "As in Dralsi Indoril, or Drayven Indoril?" My excitement must have been expressed more than I realized, as the girl looked amused at my inquiries.
"That's right," she giggled softly. "Dralsi was my mother, Drayven was her father. You say their names as if you knew them."
"More than you realize," I responded, sighing softly. As I admired her still, I realized just how much she looked like her mother. "Dralsi was a mentor and a dear friend of mine. I know now why you're so good at what you do." She smiled, shaking her head at my compliment. I could have told her more about the woman- my admiration for her, her life beyond Shor's Stone, her inevitable death that I was sure the young elf knew nothing about- but I knew it was not the right time. Karliah's life was to be cut short in a few hours, so my first concern was going to be saving her hide. "I take it you know how to use these?"
She looked down at my hand as I stuck it through the bars, holding out the lockpicks. "I've had a little practice," she retorted, her witty remark matching mine.
I chuckled again. "If you think you stand a chance in the Thieves' Guild, I'll meet you outside." I motioned to the locked grate on the floor of her cell. "You should be able to find your gear through there on the way out. Let's just see how clever you are."
Karliah grinned at me, determination radiating off her skin. "I'll meet you there then." I nodded, turning my back to her to head towards the door again. "Gallus?" My name rolling off her tongue in her soft royalesque accent sent goosebumps down my arms. I forced myself to a stop, looking at her over my shoulder. She stood there, grasping the lockpicks with a kind smile. "Thank you."
I fought off the smirk that forced itself to my lips. "Don't thank me yet. Let's get you to the Flagon and see if the Guild lives up to your expectations." When she nodded, I hurried towards the door, tipping the guard a couple coins for his silence. I'd likely pay much more dearly for sparing her under Maven's orders, but I knew the return would outweigh the costs. Like any business deal, we had nothing to gain by killing assets and if she was anything like her mother, Karliah would be a great asset.
She seemed too kind to be a thief, though. She'd have to grow a backbone if she was going to make it in the Ratway. As for me, I'd have to get a tougher hide if I didn't want that elf growing on me.
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Replies
I’m rather liking what you’ve got here so far. Especially with the description on Karliah from Gallus - I probably should do/fix something like that for Baurus looking at Jaciel. From her stalking Riften on the prowl, to meeting Gallus, you’ve done a great job - can’t wait to see what happens next to our Dunmer