I'm Really Not the Dragonborn.

Ibnor was caught in surprise when Haelga grabbed his hand and dragged him into a room. Locking the door, Haelga turned to him. 

"So, finally you came. Do you know how long I've been waiting for you to show up?" she asked but from the look in her eyes, it seems like the question is not the one that needs answering. 

Ibnor could help but to notice the colored balls scattered all across the room. He poke the ones near his leg with his toe and the balls disappeared.

[Charm +0.2]

[Charm +0.5]

[Dibellan Arts +1.6]

[Physique +0.1]

[Charm +0.1]

"Wait… Why is there something weird mixed in there?" Ibnor thought. Seeing his silence, Haelga continued.

"I get it. This is your test for me isn't it? Very well, I'll show you." She said as she pushed him on the bed. Ibnor allowed himself to fall on the bed and absorbed all the colored balls on the bed. 

[Dibellan Arts +1.4]

[Physique +0.1]

[Charm +0.1]

[Dibellan Arts +1.5]

[Charm +0.2]

[Physique +0.2]

[Mental +1.2]

[Dibellan Arts +1.7]

[Dibellan Arts +1.2]

His observation on his gain was interrupted and his attention shifted when Haelga started undressing herself. He swallowed, fascinated by the curvy beautiful display in front of him.

"Holy shit! Is this happening?" he screamed in his mind. 

Both of them danced through the night with Haelga leading the way. Every twist and spin, she choreographed the entire dance, making sure he is satisfied with her performance. For Ibnor, an inexperienced beginner, having both a beautiful and experienced instructor is more than he could have asked for. Albeit a bit confused, he is not one to look at the gift horse in the mouth. 

Come morning, he woke up with a refreshed feeling. He feels like a new man. Confident and powerful, as if he is the best in the whole world.

"Good morning, Loki." Haelga greeted him with a kiss.

"Loki?" He thought to himself, confused. 

"I'm going to take a bath. You can rest a bit more." she said and went to the adjacent bathroom. 

As soon as the bathroom door closed, he didn't waste any time and started collecting all the colored balls in the room. After all of them had been collected, he opened his panel.

Ibnor

Status

Normal / Well Rested

Stats 

Strength

21.3

Agility

23.2

Mental

20.1

Physique

23.4

Sub-Stat

Charm

15.2

Skills

Passive

[Peak Human Condition], [Close Quarter Combat - Intermediate], [Dragon's Tongue - Beginner], [Dibellan Arts - Intermediate.] 

Active

[Archery (35.2)], [Blacksmithing (24.1)], [One Handed (42.5)], [Sneak (33.8)], [Lockpicking (37.1)], [Pickpocket (31.1)], [Shout - FUS]

It's been a while since he last checked his panel. All of his stat has increased greatly. It turned out that the euphoria he was feeling is not because he graduated, from being a mere boy to a man, it's because all his stats finally passed the 20 mark, unlocking the [Peak Human Condition]. When he clicks on it, he can see its explanation:

Peak human Condition: 

A peak human. Possess physical and mental attributes to the human limit. Strength, speed, reflex, reaction, intelligence, senses, durability, resistance, immune system and recovery are far better than normal humans. A superman. Limitation: Still a mortal and can die.

He also managed to somehow unlock a sub-stat: 

Charm: 

A quality that makes someone or something attractive or likeable. [Current level: +15.2% chances for a successful persuasion.]

As he is exploring the new things in his panel, Haelga comes out of the bathroom.

"You are still there? I was hoping you would join me earlier. You still do that huh?"

"Do what?"

"Occasionally lost in your thoughts. You often disregard everything around you when you do. Not that it matters to me. Clean yourself up and we'll talk more during breakfast."

Ibnor joined Haelga for a hearty breakfast after taking a bath. To his delight, there are also colored balls that are up for picking in the bathroom. 

"So, what are you up to this time? While I'm glad if you said it was solely for me, I also know it's too good to be true." Haelga asked.

"Why so?"

"You said it yourself. When we meet again, it will be the time you're planning something big."

"So, she is convinced that I'm this Loki guy, and Harin also once said I'm similar to someone. Maybe it's the same guy." Ibnor thoughts. 

"You can say that. I'm aiming for the Guild now. But, to get in, I need to pass a trial, which brings me to you."

"No doubt about the fee. I've been withholding it for a while now. I'll get you the coin. On one condition."

"Name it."

"Visit me often, will you?"

"I'll try."

"I'll be waiting. Here's the coin I owed Brynjolf. Tell him I hope he choked on it. If it wasn't for you I won't even spare a single septim." 

"This is not how I imagined it would go… I thought I had to throw her Dibella statue away for the money. Who would have guessed?" Ibnor thought to himself. 

Finishing his breakfast and after promising Haelga to visit her, Ibnor made his way to the Bee and Barb for the last target, Keerava, the Argonian innkeeper herself. Entering the inn, he went straight to the bar.

"What can I get you? Mead? Wine?" Keerava asked, just like she would to any other patrons.

"I have a message for you from Brynjolf."

"Look, everything was all just a misunderstanding. I didn't mean to tell Brynjolf to go jump off the pier. You'll tell him I said sorry, yes?" Keerava said as she gave a quick glance to Bersi who happened to be in the inn. "Take this. Every single coin I owe is there, I swear it."

"Hmm… words do travel fast. Well, for whatever it's worth, I'm glad it turned out this way. I would hate to threaten Keerave using her family. While it's only an intimidation tactic, it will leave a bad taste in my mouth." Ibnor thought. 

Collecting the money, he returned to the Ragged Flagon and met Brynjolf, who was waiting for him.

"So, job's done and you even brought the gold. Best of all, you did it clean. I like that. Dumping bodies and keeping the guards quiet can be expensive."

"Here's what they owed us."

"Well done. And it would seem I owe you something in return. Here you go, I think you'll find these quite useful." Brynjolf hands Ibnor his cut and a few potions, as a bonus.

"What's next, then?"

"Judging how well you handled those shopkeepers, I'd say you've done more than simply prove yourself. We need people like you in our outfit." 

"Before we go, I have to ask…"

"What's on your mind?"

"Word is, your outfit isn't doing well. Is it true?"

"We've run into a rough patch lately, but it's nothing to be concerned about. Tell you what, you keep making us coins and I'll worry about everything else. Fair enough?"

"Fair enough." Ibnor shrugs. 

"Now, if there is no more question, how about following me and I'll show you what we're all about."

"Sure, lead the way."

Brynjolf leads Ibnor to a storage cabinet and opens the cabinet's door. With a few taps in a particular order, the back of the cabinet opens up, revealing a passage with a small bedroom on the right side.

Straight ahead leads to an opening to a large circular chamber with two storm drains emptying from the high ceiling overhead, with waterfalls cascading into a pool under a cross shaped stone walkway. There are also four quadrants outside of the pool, linked by a wooden suspension bridge. One of the quadrants seems to be reserved as a resting area, with beds lining up side by side one after another. Opposite to the entrance, in an alcove to the southwest, a pair of double metal doors stood high, guarding the Guild's treasure room.

Brynjold then leads Ibnor to the centre of the chamber, where a man is waiting for them on the stone walkway.

"Mercer? This is the one I was talking about… our new recruit."

"This better not be another waste of the Guild's resources, Brynjolf." the man called Mercer said. He then turned to Ibnor.

"Before we continue, I want to make one thing perfectly clear. If you play by the rules, you walk away rich. You break the rules and you lose your share. No debates, no discussion… you do what we say, when we say."

"Yes, I understand." Ibnor answered.

"Good. Then I think it's time we put your 'expertise' to the test."

"Wait a moment, you are not talking about the Goldenglow, are you? Even our little Vex couldn't get in." Brynjolf interjected right after.

"You claimed this recruit possesses an aptitude for outline of work. If so, let him prove it." Mercer replied. He then turned to Ibnor again.

"Goldenglow Estate is critically important to one of our largest clients. However, the owner has suddenly decided to take matters into his own hands and shut us out. He needs to be taught a lesson. Brynjolf will provide you with the details."

After saying that, Mercer wanted to leave but as he turned around, he was stopped by Brynjolf.

"Mercer, aren't you forgetting something?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Since Brynjolf assures me that you'll be nothing but a benefit to us, then you're in. Welcome to the Thieves Guild." And with that, he went back to his desk, scrutinizing the ledgers.

"Welcome to the family, lad. I'm expecting you to make us a lot of coins, so don;t disappoint me."

"So, how exactly do I make money?"

"Simple. Do as you're told and keep your blade clean. We can't turn a profit by killing."

"Alright. Tell me about this… Goldenglow job."

"Goldenglow Estate is a bee farm. They raise the wretched little things for honey. It's owned by some smart-mouth wood elf named Aringoth. We need you to teach him a lesson by burning down three of the estate's hives and clearing out the safe in the main house."

"Okay… What's the catch?"

"The catch is that you can't burn the whole place to the ground. That important client Mercer mentioned would be furious if you did."

"Furious? At the Thieves Guild? How low have we fallen?"

"That's not how things work around here. The Guild depends on an arrangement of influential people to keep running smoothly. The last thing we want to be doing is crossing our clients."

"Let me guess… Maven?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Bee farm, honey, important client. Hit the farm but don't destroy it. Maven runs the Black Briar Meadery. If the farm went out of business, she'd have to import honey for her meadery which in turn would cut into her profits. Need I say more?"

"You're sharp, lad, I'll give you that. We had an arrangement with Maven. We kept an eye on Goldenglow Estate to make sure the honey kept flowing. If the workers had a dispute, we rough them up. If competitors tried to buy honey from Aringoth, we'd steal the shipments. In return, Maven allowed us to extort Aringoth and bring in a huge payout."

"Why is everyone tip-toeing around Maven?"

"Let me put it this way. Nothing happens in Riften without Maven consent. One word from her and you could spend the rest of the fourth era in prison."

"So, what about Aringoth?"

"Maven prefers that Aringoth remain alive, but if he tries to stop you from getting the job done, kill him. The Guild has a lot riding on this. Don't make me look flourish by mucking it up."

"What's the story about Goldenglow Estate?"

"Goldenglow estate brought in a mountain of gold for the guild. You could almost call it our sweetest deal. Then out of the blue, Aringoth stops sending us our cut. Mercer was… Well, angry, to put it kindly. So we send in Vex and find out he hired a bunch of mercenaries to guard the place."

"Mercenaries? Not Riften guards?"

"Aye, Aringoth sent the city guard packing and fortified the entire island. Vex actually barely made it out of there alive. You should talk to her about it before you go. In fact, you should talk with Delvin Mallory and Vex. They know their way around this place and they'll be able to kick some extra jobs your way. Oh, and talk to Tonilia in the Flagon… She'll set you up with your new armor." Brynjolf said as he patted Ibnor on the shoulder before leaving him.

"I guess it's time to meet the family…" Ibnor thought to himself. He then went back to the Ragged Flagon. Finding Wex sitting at one of the tables, he approached her. Vex, noticing him approaching, immediately cut him off before he even say anything.

"Before we begin, I want to make two things perfectly clear. One, I'm the best infiltrator this rathole of a guild's got, so if you think you're here to replace me, you're dead wrong. And two, you follow my lead and do exactly as I say… no question, no excuses."

"Great. First Mercer and now, you." Ibnor grumbled in silence, rolling his eyes.

"Then we understand each other… Good. Now, it's time to get your feet wet and I don't want to waste a lot of time talking about anything but business."

"Right… Business, huh?"

"I'm not going to sugar-coat it for you. We're in a bad way down here."

"The reason being..?"

"Who knows. Old Delvin thinks it's some kind of a curse. I think he's crazy. If you want my opinion, I say it's just plain old bad luck."

"Is there anything we… I mean, I can do to help?" Ibnor asked, playing along.

"You can get out there and start making a name for us again… Make them start fearing us like they did long ago. And, while you're at it, make a little bit of coin on the side. Not a bad deal, eh?"

"Well, it's not like I can exactly go on a stealing spree, right? Brynjolf said we depend on 'clients'. And to have clients, there must be a contact."

"Right. I usually get requests but the job I get is mostly the ones that involve breaking and entering. I can hook you up if that's your thing. Or, if you want something more up close and personal, you can ask Delvin."

"How is doing these jobs helping the Guild?"

"Are you kidding me? Ever since the Guild's luck turned sour, we haven't had a coin to our name. And when the coin dried up, that's when people started to leave. We had the best of everything down here… the Ratway was a damn palace. The only way this place will ever return to its glory days is if we can finish these extra jobs and start the gold flowing again."

"Glory days? What was it like back then?"

"The Flagon was once a city beneath the city. We had our own smith, our own alchemist… you name it. If we can make a name for ourselves in Skyrim again, I can almost promise you those merchants would return. Best of all, we'd have enough gold to throw around so we can start living in the lap of luxury again."

"Right, and before I get to those jobs, I have to settle the Goldenglow job first. Heard you ran into trouble?"

"Hmph, yeah I did. That wood elf's wit… he's got a lot smarter than I expected. Can you believe that fetcher had more than tripled the guard? There must be eight of them in there. It was like he was daring us to come and get him."

"Any tips?"

"Well, there's an old sewer tunnel that dumps into the lake on the northwest side of the island. That's how I slipped in there. Should still be unguarded."

"Thanks, Vex." Ibnor said. Vex just waxed her hand as if shooing flies. Ibnor went to a balding middle aged man nearby, Delvin.

"Brynjolf huh? Lemme guess. He plucked you off the street and dropped you into the thick of things without tellin' you which way is up. Am I right?" Delvin said, as Ibnor took a seat opposite him.

"I know what I'm doing."

"Lyin' to my face isn't gonna win you any favors with me, I can promise you that. On the other hand, takin' some of these extra jobs off my hands, now that'll get you to the top of my list, and get the Guild back on its feet."

"You think I'm lying? Did Sapphire ask you anything about your brother?"

"It's you…" Delvin eyes narrowed, glinting dangerously.

"As I said, I know what I'm doing. I'm gonna deal with Goldenglow first, as everyone and their mother is keen on testing me as of lately. In fact, when I come back, I'll even bring you the Queen Bee Statue that's on your list. Hell, I'll bring every item on your list. After that, we'll talk about your extra job."

"What's your objective?"

"What do you mean?"

"Look around you. The Flagon, the guild… it's falling apart. A few decades ago, this place was as busy as the Imperial City. Now, you're lucky if you don't trip over a skeever instead."

"And?"

"Look, I know the others think I'm a bit daft for sayin' stuff like this, but I'm gonna give it to you straight. Somethin' out there is piss-drunk mad at us. I don't know who or what it is, but it's beyond just you and me. We've been cursed. I don't know what you're thinkin', so if you have an ulterior motive, best spit it out. No good can come out of messing with desperate people like us."

"I'll let you know what I think. I think that you want to spit in that curse's face and turn things around , putting things back the way they were. And you think that those jobs could guide us to the road of recovery... Am I right?"

"How did yo..? Delvin asked before Ibnor interrupted him.

"You are close, Delvin. Truely, the Guild is cursed. But, it wasn't because something out there is pissed at us, it's just that we didn't keep our end of the deal, and we're facing the consequences."

"What are you talking about?" Delvin's iris shrinked hearing what Ibnor said.

"If it makes it any better, just know that I too… are looking to fix things, to return the Guild to its peak."

"Years ago, the Guild used to have a foothold in every major city in Skyrim. You wouldn't dare even lift an apple without checkin' with us. When things started goin' downhill around here, it became difficult to keep it all together. We lost fences, influential contracts and coins. It wasn't long before we lost what we depend on to survive… Respect. And you're tellin' me it's really because we're cursed?"

"I haven't told anyone of this. It's up to you whether you want to believe it or not, but I know that deep down, you knew this was the case. But know this, no amount of jobs can undo the curse. It will always be one thing after another. Give me two months. I'll cut the trouble by the root and we can begin spreading our name once again, and take the cities back."

"Why not share it with the rest of the Guild? Together, we can…"

"Not everything is as it seems. You know that, Delvin." Ibnor interrupts him.

"You mean…" Delvin eyes went wide, glinting with realization.

"Maybe. It's not impossible. So, I urge you to keep this only between us and go on with your business as usual... That, and if I turn out to be lying, it's not like you have anything to lose."

"Alright… I'll keep an eye out for you."

"Won't expect anything less. We'll end it here for now, I have to get my uniform from Tonilia. Be seeing ya…"

Ibnor got up and went to Tonilia, who was sitting on the wooden deck hovering on top of the pool.

"Brynjolf sent me." He said to Tonilia.

"So, you're the new recruit, eh? Welcome to the cozy little family. Well, looks like you and I are going to have to get very well acquainted."

"Why is that?" He asked.

"I'm the fence down here. You come by anything you don't exactly own and I'll pay you some coin for it. Minus a little slice for the Guild, of course. I can also provide a few supplies useful to our trade now and again, for a small fee."

"Is there anything you don't charge for?" He asked jokingly but he only got a cold smile from her as a response.

"Sure, how about I get Dirge to knock you over your head and dump you into the cistern?"

"Whoa… Chill. I was just trying to lighten the mood."

"Look, I've been in this business a long time and I've seen all types. You can play it tough, you can play it smart… Whatever. At the end of the day you'll find all we care about down here is how much gold you can make us. Good. Then there isn't much to say. Here's your armor, just make sure you put it to good use."

Ibnor stayed silent and took the armor set without any words. He thought he was prepared for it, but from the first step in Riften, people, especially the guild's members themselves, have been irritating to him. The way they talk, the way they look at him or even the way they treat other people. Currently he is on the verge of erupting.

"Maybe it's the curse affecting me and them, or maybe my ego has been touched but I could really use an outlet right now." he thought to himself. He saw Dirge who was standing guard and greeted him, just for courtesy.

"Hey, Dirge."

"I don't care if you're best buddies with the Guild Master. I'll smash in your skull if you try anything. Even if you're one of us, you better not make trouble." Dirge said bluntly.

"What… The… FUCK!!! I haven't said anything yet! That's it! If you show me you don't give a fuck, I'll show you that I'm better at it." The seemingly blunt words are the straw that broke the camel's back.

Ibnor snapped.