A changeling's visit to Skyrim

It was a bright and sunny morning in Whiterun, and our heroes were setting out for Riften to contact the Thieves Guild after some much needed R and R (Reselling-treasure-for-profit and Ravaging-the-local-inn’s-liquor-cabinet). Laelette informed them that she would be staying behind to tend their house and all the random piles of junk they left in it. When they asked her if she’d be okay with all the sunlight and lack of people that didn’t need their blood, with the exception of a few… Nazeem, I’m looking at you, ya pompous asshole; I do “happen to get to the clouds district”. Anyone can just walk up there whenever they want; it’s not that big of an achievement!

Where was I? Oh yeah.

Laelette told them she was also working at the temple of Kynareth as a healer, and that she would be “participating” in the blood drive later. So after she promised to behave herself, and Stross gave her an invisibility potion in case of an emergency, they headed out with the hopes that nothing bad would happen along the way.

And we can all guess how that will turn out.

“Oh what is all this?” Fenora said in confusion as three imperial soldiers stopped them a couple minutes after they passed Honningbrew Meadery.

“Umm, you there, citizen. You’re messin’ with imperial beeswax, so you’ll have to pay us a fine.” the leader, an orc, told them in an unprofessional manner “Two-hundred gold each, pay up now.”

“Okay,” Stross thought as he observed them “there’s no way that these idiots are imperial soldiers. Imperials wouldn’t charge a fine for messing with them; they’d just shove us out of the way or hit us a lot, and they sure wouldn’t use the term ‘beeswax’ while they do it. Plus they’re wearing their armor backwards."

“And let’s not overlook the most condemning piece of evidence. There are ACTUAL imperial soldiers lying dead and naked in a bush three feet away! Friggin’ bandits. Let’s have some fun with them.”

With that, Stross threw up an illusion while concealed under his cloak.

“What is the meaning of this, you scum-sucking maggots?!” he yelled in his new form, an Imperial Drill Sergeant “Give me your identification code and patrol number this instant!”

“Oh umm, patrol number?” the orc asked, dumbfounded.

“Unbelievable. You should all be ashamed of yourselves, disgracing the Legion like this.” Drill Sergeant Stross shook his head disapprovingly as he slapped the supposed soldier’s improperly worn armor “All of you, drop and give me twenty!”

All three bandits exchanged glances.

“You got cotton wads stuffed in your ears, Private? On the ground before I remove your ocular units and fornicate with your craniums!”

The dim-witted bandits weren’t sure what he’d said, but did as Stross told them anyway. But around the time they’d reached about eighty push-ups, due to losing count at ten and having to start over a few times, a thought finally occurred to the leader.

“Wait a minute… we don’t have to take this.”

“But the Sarge told us to.” one of the others pointed out.

“We’re not even soldiers you idiots.” the orc finally reminded them “So let’s just kill these jerks and take their stuff!”

“YEAH!”

…

“Well that was easy.” Fenora said as sheathed her sword literally twelve seconds later “They must have been tired after all those push-up you made them do.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe they fell for that. I can do anything with that voice.” Stross said before putting his disguise back on a with stupid grin “Hey Fen, drop and give me twenty!”

Fenora frowned back before picking him up, dropping him on the ground, and handing him twenty Septims.

On the way to Riften, they decided to go through Ivarstead on the way. It was still just as boring as they remembered. Though there was one little improvement though.

“Ah hello there, it’s good to see you all again.” a man in a brown tunic walked up to them.

“Wait, is that-?”

“Hey Narfi!” a young dunmer girl ran up to him, hastily pouring some purple liquid into a bottle “I got you some water.”

“Ah, thank you Drizeel.” Narfi took the bottle “I’d like you to meet some friends of mine. This is Stross, he was the one who told me the truth about my sister; really helped me out of that rut I was in. And this is the Dragonborn and her housecarl, Fenora and Lydia.” he introduced them “This is Drizeel, she came into town about a day after you all left; she’s really nice.”

“Narfi, get back up here. These logs won’t chop themselves.” a woman called over from the mill.

“Oh, well I guess it’s back to work. Safe travels.” Narfi said, pocketing the bottle which promptly slipped out without him noticing.

“No! My poison!” Drizeel shrieked as the bottle broke on the ground, covering it with the deadly contents.

“What?” Stross asked.

“Oh umm, nothing!” Drizeel quickly darted away.

“Okay, bad feeling ‘bout this.”

“Hey Narfi,” Stross said as he walked over “I think Drizeel just tried to poison you.”

“What? That’s crazy, she wouldn’t hurt anyone. Now have you seen my axe?” Suddenly a woodcutter’s axe flew past and embedded itself into the wall, half an inch from Narfi’s head.

“Yipe!” Stross ducked out of the way.

“Oh, there it is.” Narfi dislodged the axe and began chopping firewood “Thanks Drizeel!” he waved back to her as she stomped her feet in frustration. “I think she likes me.”

“Oh, no way.”

“Hey, I saw that!” Stross stomped over, Fenora and Lydia joining him. “You were trying to kill him weren’t you?”

“Yeah, and you’re not going to stop me!” she charged over to Narfi and lunged at him, dagger drawn “Hail Sithis!” she screamed as she tried to end his life then and there, regardless of witnesses. But she quickly found her attempts foiled by the fact that Narfi picked up a huge stack of firewood and stepped out of the way, causing her to miss and plunge into the river. Hearing the splash, Narfi looked over to see Drizeel getting swept downriver and over the waterfall.

“Huh, I thought she couldn’t swim. Learn something new every day.” he said obliviously as he continued his work.

“Wow,” Fenora stood there thinking about what she just saw “worst assassin ever.”

“Don’t you think we should do something?” Stross asked.

“I wouldn’t worry.” a random guard walked up to them “This has been going on for days now; she’s tried everything and hasn’t even scratched him.”

“And you’ve just been letting this happen?!”

“Relax, we’re always watching, we’ll step in if we think he’s actually in danger. Drizeel’s not exactly subtle with her attempts after all. In the meantime, it gives the rest of us something to talk about.” as the guard said this, Drizeel tried to crush Narfi with a stack of logs only to end up flattening herself as a trombone played in the background.

“Hah, classic.”

Our heroes continued on their way after finding a way to get Stross to let Narfi’s dumb luck protect him (the way they found was picking up and/or forcefully dragging him away kicking, and screaming about great justice), and they now found themselves outside the water-mounted, and partially flooded city of Venice… New Orleans… Riften.

“Halt,” one of the guards stopped them at the gate “you’ll have to pay a visitors tax if you want to enter the city.”

“Seriously, a visitor’s tax?” Fenora took an annoyed tone “You couldn’t think of a better name for ‘making-up-taxes-‘cause-your-city-needs-money’?”

“Well we tried ‘wallet-shafting’ but that turned too many people away. Now are you going to pay up or what?”

“How much are we paying?” Stross asked.

“Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize.” the guard said quickly when he spotted Stross’s black leather armor “I’ll get the gate open for you, just don’t tell anyone about this okay?”

“Umm, thanks… I think.”

The atmosphere inside the city was… heavier than outside?

Okay let’s be honest, it felt downright dark and even oppressive. Part of it was the bleak colors and the smell that came up from the sewers, but it was also something a bit less obvious. It wasn’t something that could be easily described, but you could feel it in the way the people went about their business, like someone was watching their every move.

As the trio entered the city, they overheard a conversation between a healer and an armored nord.

"I had another run-in with the Thieves Guild." the warrior said with a sneer.

"Please be careful, Mjoll. With Maven backing them up, the Thieves Guild could have you in Riften Jail with one word.” the healer said in a hushed whisper.

"I can't just ignore them, Aerin. They’re the whole reason I'm here, and no one else will stand up to them.” Mjoll said resolutely.

"I know. I just don't want to see you leave or get hurt; you're the only good thing that's happened to this city in a long time."

“Do you think anyone even wants to get out from under the Guild’s thumb?” Mjoll asked her expression wavering.

“Of course they do, but they’re just too scared of what will happen to them. The Thieves Guild has connections, and knows just how to make everyone break down and submit.”

“Excuse me, do you two know where I can find the Thieves Guild?” Stross walked over when he found a good point to enter the conversation “I heard you talking about them and-

“Uhh, I don’t want to deal with this. Pray we don’t meet again.” Mjoll shoved her way past him.

“Mjoll, wait! I’m terribly sorry sir.” Aerin said to Stross with a look of fear etched on his face before pursuing his friend.

“What was that all about?” Stross asked himself as he pulled up his hood.

“Not everyone’s as friendly as you, Stross; we’re dealing with thieves after all.” Fenora told him “Come on, let’s get to the inn, maybe they know something useful.”

As the others made their way across the wooden bridge to the Bee and Barb inn, Stross lagged behind a bit and was quickly pulled out of his thoughts by a large man with a sledgehammer on his back.

“Hey, I’ve never seen you ‘round here before. You new or somethin’?” he asked, sounding nearly as intimidating as he looked.

“Well I haven’t exactly been here before, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“So where exactly did you come from then?”

“Would you believe me if I said I came from a different world?” Stross chuckled.

“Right…” the man said in a sarcastic and unamused tone before leaving, never breaking eye contact with Stross until he was out of sight.

…

Back on the his way to the Bee and Barb, Stross passed by a young man getting extorted by a woman wearing armor similar to the set Stross had found.

"I'm really getting tired of your excuses Shadr. When you borrowed the money, you said you'd pay it back on time and for double the usual fee." she said to him harshly.

"I know I did. But how was I to know the shipment would get robbed? You can’t blame me for that." he defended.

"Next time, keep your plans quieter and nothing would have happened to it." she wagged her finger at him “And I still expect to be paid.”

"Wait, are you telling me you robbed it? Sapphire why? Why are you doing this to me?" Shadr asked in frustration. “I only wanted to get my supplies, what could you have to gain from this?”

“She’s doing it ‘cause she’s into you!” Stross yelled from the door of the inn. “The pain she causes you is her way of flirting; I’m guessing it turns her on or something, but clearly she wants to get her hands on more than just your money if you know what I’m sayin’! If all else fails, just keep yelling at each other until sex happens! Good luck with that!” With his advice given, Stross disappeared inside the inn, leaving Sapphire and Shadr with nearly all of the Riften marketplace staring over at them.

“Sooo… was any of that true? Do you just bully me because you like me?”

“What? No!” Sapphire yelled, still flushed a bright red and twiddling her fingers “L-look, j- just forget what you owe me and get out of here. Never talk to me again, alright. ” she quickly made he escape over the railing.

Shadr stared after her for a few seconds. “Oh yeah, she’s into me.”

Stross entered the Bee and Barb in time to catch the end of a speech by a priest of Mara. It was something about how everyone’s indulgent actions were an affront to the Goddess Mara, that the dragons were back to punish them for their wrongdoings, and they should repent, and also donate money to the church and blah, blah, blah… But Stross couldn’t hear him over the sound of how much everyone didn’t really care. Instead he caught tidbits of other, more interesting conversations while he walked over to the main counter.

“That horse is mine and Svidii knows it. Being in jail doesn’t mean he doesn’t have to pay up.”

…

“Those damn Imperals, they killed my daughter! She was a field medic and they slaughtered her anyway.”

“Father please, it was painful for all of us, but you’re making a scene.”

“Shut up and order some more drinks, boy.”

…

“Did I ever tell you about my great-great-grandfather Valen Dreth? He was in a tutorial!”

…

“I used to be an adventurer… then I took an arrow in-

…

*crack* “My knee!”

“Hey, watch the tables! We can’t use a healing potion on a table.”

…

“I’m not some damn tourguide, especially when you’re talking about those blasted sewer-rats. If you want to buy something, go ahead, otherwise, hit the road.” Stross heard the bartender say when he reached the main counter where Fenora and Lydia were talking to her.

“Look…” Fenora put her hands on the counter and let out a sigh “We all know that the dragons are back. I’m trying to stop them, and the Thieves Guild has something that can help. So we need you to tell us anything you can about them, okay?”

“I hope that’s not true for all our sakes. If they do have something that can save us all, then you can bet that they’ll hang it over our heads and sell it off to the highest bidder.” Keerava said with a sneer before visibly tensing up “Oh, speak of the devils. Why don’t you just ask this clown? He’s one of them.”

“You are?” Fenora asked.

“I am?” Stross said in confusion when he realized they were talking about him.

Before they could delve into the source of the confusion or even find out what the other was talking about, another party interrupted them. “W’ need t’ talk.” a man said in a pseudo-Scottish/ Irish accent “Ootside, naow.” He dragged Stross out with him. Fenora pushed him off and said that only she gets to do that, and continued outside while dragging Stross in the same manner.

“So what did you gentlemen want to- Hurk!” Stross tried to say before he was shoved up against the wall by Sapphire, who came out of the shadows once they were in the alley. She pulled out a switchblade and held it against his scaled neck.

“Oh no, my one weakness; small knives.” Stross said sarcastically, only to flinch at the jolt of electric current that ran through the blade as Sapphire smirked.

“Enchanted switchblades? Are you for real?”

“Oi ahsk tha questions here!” Brynjolf informed him “Now… where-

“Umm, boss?” Maul deadpanned as Fenora held him on the ground in a headlock, Lydia watching in amusement “Little help here.”

“Oh fer croyin’ out… Here.” Brynjolf tossed Fenora a bag of septims “Jus’ take thaht and shut up fer a second.”

“Nice try, but it’ll take more than a bag of gold for me to abandon-

Brynjolf passed her a bottle of mead and an apple pie.

“That’ll do.”

“I just got sold out for pie and booze.”

“Now I-

“Well well, what’s going on in this dark alley?” a guard said with mock-righteousness “I can’t just let someone get beaten up on my watch. It’s a good thing there’s nothing distracting me at the moment… something that would make me look the other way…”

“Grr, fine.” Brynjolf tossed a bag of gold to the guard as well.

“Brynjolf!” an Argonian with bloodshot eyes ran up, twitching uncontrollably “I need another hit. You’ve gotta give me a fix man, I’ll do anything!”

Brynjolf practically punched her with the bottle of skooma. “Take it and go away.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Hey everyone! Thieves Guild is giving out free stuff!” a small child yelled from the entrance of the alley, and within a second a crowd was trying to push their way into the already crowded space.

“Oi! Get the fook outta here fore I give you all a bag of gold up yer arses!” Brynjolf’s head was practically erupting with steam as he yelled at the crowd, quickly causing them to scatter before he whipped back around to face Stross “Where did ya’ get thaht armor?!” he yelled “Only tha guild elite get the baddass black version!”

“I found it on a dead guy.” Stross answered “He was dead when I got there!” he added quickly.

“Where?” Brynjolf growled in his face.

“Ustengrav.”

Brynjolf immediately calmed down and stepped back for a moment, his expression told that he was deep in thought. “Thas’ where lil’ Jimmy was headin’ when he disappeared. What was he after in there? D’ ya know how he died?”

“I don’t.” Stross told him as Sapphire dug her elbow into his gut “We were there yesterday for the horn, so we can fight the dragons. It wasn’t there, so we thought you’d know where it’s at now.”

“Horn… the horn o’ Jurgan Windcaller?” Brynjolf asked and Stross nodded in the affirmative “Tha’ right there’s a myth.”

“No it’s not, the Greybeards told us so. We need it to unlock some hidden potential in Fenroa; she’s the Dragonborn.”

“Sup.” Fenora waved to them as she chewed on a slice of pie, stopping for a moment to heat it up with her Fire Breath shout.

Brynjolf’s eyes widened for a second, then his expression shifted again, this time towards comedy. “Seriously? You’re th’ one who’s gonna save the world from an entire army o’ dragons? Thas’ a bloody joke that is.” he laughed for a while and then looked to his associates “What’re you doin’? Laugh with me like we practiced!”

They awkwardly and half-heartedly did as he said.

“Aw, now ya’ gone and ruined it.” he shook his head before returning to the matter at hand “Look, normally ah’ wouldn’t do this, but th’ world endin’ is real bad fer business if you know what I mean. So we’re all gonna go and have a chat with our Guildmaster ‘bout this. So cover yer eyes, and no peakin’. Our secret entrances are suppos’ ta be secret.”

“Can I at least stab this guy first?” Sapphire asked.

Fenora snatched her knife away “No, no you can’t. And I’m keeping this.”

Sapphire pouted as she followed them all to the Guild Headquarters.

After making their way through a secret entrance in the graveyard, a secret entrance that had a sign on it that said “Secret guild entrance, Shh it’s secret” the six of them found themselves in the Ragged Flagon; a bar built in a sewer. There’s many a joke to be made about that.

Quite a few unfriendly glances were sent our heroes’ way as they entered. Most of them were obviously members of the guild, easily identifiable by their trademark armor.

“Brynjolf, just what in Oblivion do you think you’re doing?” a woman with platinum blonde hair asked as they approached.

“Easy lass, we jus’ need to talk to Mercer, you seen him?”

“I’m right here, and you’d better have a good reason for bringing these people down here... into our hideout… that’s supposed to be secret by the way.” another man said in a frustrated tone as he entered from deeper in the cistern.

“Mercer, I think we’ve stumbled upon a very ripe opportunity here.” Brynjolf began “Right here we’ve got the Dragonborn. You know, th’ one that’ll save the world from the dragons so we can all live to steal another day? And it seems we’ve got somethin’ they need.”

“The horn of Jurgan Windcaller.” Fenora got straight to the point “Do you have it?”

“That depends, what’s it worth to you?” Mercer questioned, working every angle like a used car salesman.

“Show me that you have it and we’ll work out a price.” Fenora countered.

“Make me an offer first and I’ll consider it.”

“Okay, give me the horn and I won’t let Alduin roast you all alive. We’re trying to save Skyrim here.”

“Hah, you think you can scare me into getting what you want? You’re in no position to be making threats when I have what you need.” Mercer said smugly.

“Oh, so you do have it.” Fenora gave a smirk to match “Well then, new offer. You hand it over willingly, and I won’t roast you alive.”

Mercer nearly burst out laughing. “You think you can take on all of us?” he gestured to the guild members gathered around the room.

“No,” Fenora said simply “I think I can kill all of you.”

"Well then you're wrong. Dead wrong!"

And with that, weapons were drawn all around. Though the room was entirely silent save for the sounds of running water and heavy breating, everyone was tensed and ready to strike in a gigantic Mexican Elsweyr stand-off as Fenora and Mercer glared daggers at each other while pointing actual daggers at each other.

“ENOUGH!” Stross yelled as everyone’s weapons were magically ripped from their hands and piled at his feet, multiple people whining in protest about how they were planning on using them. “The horn. Give it to us now, and we’ll pay you lots of money. Simple as that.”

“’fraid it’s not that simple. No amount of gold will help us now, not with this curse.” Another member in black leather chimed in.

“Oh not this again, Delvin.” Mercer face-palmed.

“No disrespect boss, but what other explanation is there? No one just ‘hits a rough patch’ like we ‘ave lately. I don’t know who, but someone’s pissed at us. Don’t none of you remember?” he turned to the rest of the guild “Just a few years ago we had every city in Skyrim plugged in, I’m talkin’ smugglers, agents, and Jarls in our playbook. No one would even dare to steal so much as an apple ‘thout checkin’ with us first. And the Flaggon; this place used to be busier than the Imperial city, and now we’re trippin’ over skeevers and muck instead.”

“It’s a sewer, we were always tripping over skeevers.” Vex noted “What’s your point?”

“My point is the Guild’s fallin’ apart. None of us want to admit it, but it’s the honest truth. We’ve lost the fear and respect we had, and no amount of pinching coin is going to save us at this rate. So instead of paying in gold,” he addressed our heroes “you pay us in favors.”

“What kind of favors?” Stross asked “Party? Sexual? We whack some guys off and you give us cookies?”

“No no, nothin’ like that.” Brynjolf joined the conversation again “Jus’ make some deliveries, bribe some merchants, steal some shiny things. Make people know that the guild ain’t to be taken lightly anymore, and the horn of killin’ dragons is yours. What do ya say?”

Before Stross could make a decision that would undoubtedly send them all across the province, Fenora and Lydia pulled him aside.

“You aren’t actually considering this are you?” Fenora asked.

“I have to agree, everyone under their influence seems to be chafing from it.” Lydia pointed out.

“I know, I’ve seen it too, but we need that horn. What choice do we have?”

Fenora pulled out another fistful of daggers and her eyes darted towards the thieves.

“You know what I mean.” Stross made her put them away “I don’t like the idea of helping them back into power any more than you do, but what they’re asking from us seems pretty harmless at least. Let’s just play along until we get the horn and then we get out.”

“Fine.”

“I have a bad feeling about this, but I will follow you, my thane.”

Returning to the guild members, Stross gave them their answer. “Okay, just tell us what needs to be done.”

“Excellent, ere’s a list of jobs we need doing.” Delven handed Stross the piece of tattered parchment.

“Let’s see here,

-Deliver shipment of watered-down mead to Ivarstead; charge double the normal price.

-Deliver moon sugar to Kahjiit caravans; double normal price.

-Deliver furs (not firs) to Winterhold; blah blah price.

-Rob this guy, bribe that guy, tell the other guy to pay up, steal the literal clothes off that jerk’s back.

-Pay off the bar tabs. All of them.

-And don’t forget to pick up milk.” Stross quickly read down the list in his head. “Alright, seems simple enough.”

“Great, but ‘fore you head oot, grab some uniforms.” Brynjolf directed them to a wooden stand “We can’t have you doin’ work for us ‘thout looking the part.”

“What?”

“You mean you all wear this armor, this very recognizable armor, even when you’re not on the job?” Stross asked.

“Yeah.”

“Even though stealth and remaining anonymous is key when being a thief, and making yourselves so easily recognizable would make tracing any crime back to the guild like ten times easier.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“So you would trade secrecy and the element of surprise for a bigger reputation.”

“Pretty much.”

“Now I know where Chrysalis got her training.”

When they reached the stand that sold the gear they needed, they were greeted by a catchy tune sung by the two salesmen.

“Well brother, they need our services again.”

“It’s fortunate we’re around, ‘cause our gear is full of win.”

“If you need armor, our’s has extra pockets.”

“If you need a certain tool, we make ones with blades and sprockets.”

“If burglary’s your aptitude or you find you need lockpicks,”

“Come to us with bags of coin, you know we have your fix.”

Before they could start up their main chorus, Stross interrupted them, a sudden recognition coming to him as he looked over the barbershop twins with red and white hair. “Wait a minute. Flim and Flam?”

“Those are our names, don’t wear them ou- ou- ou-“ Flim stammered as his brother joined him for a “Huuwhaaaat?”

“How did you know?” Flam grabbed Stross and pulled him face to face, though he would come to immediately regret his decision “Ch… ch- ch- ch- CHANGELING!” the two of them shrieked like elderly ladies.

“They’ve found us, run for it brother!”

“Right behind you brother.” they ripped open a portal and jumped through.

“Wait! We still need ta convince everyone thaht this watered dune hot-sauce is Falmer blood elixir!” Brynjolf yelled as they disappeared. “Oh thaht there is jus’ great! Now we gotta go back to buyin’ our gear from that guy!”

“Not enough cash, stranger.” the hooded figure said in his gravelly voice.

“What if we traded you these herbs and skooma?” Fenora asked.

“I’ll buy that at a… high price.” the merchant laughed at his joke.