I'm Really Not the Dragonborn.

"Like I said, there are other things to consider apart from your clothes."

"What do you mean?" 

"Look how you sniffed out my little scheme at the North Gate. You knew it was a shakedown and you called it on him. That's what I'm talking about."

"So, the guard at the North Gate was your man?"

"Aye, that he was. And you sniffed him out because he broke one of the cardinal rules of our business… He got greedy. He was told to run the scam on merchants, but he smelled the gold on you and his judgement went out the window. Actually, I admire how you handled the situation. You kept your cool and you didn't kill him. That's the mark of a professional in my line of work."

"You seem to be well acquainted with wealth."

"Wealth is my business. Help me out and I can add to yours. Would you like a taste?"

"What do you have in mind?"

"I got a bit of an errand to perform, but I could use an extra pair of hands. And in my line of work, extra hands are well-paid."

"What do I have to do?"

Simple… I'm going to cause a distraction and you are going to steal Madesi, the Argonian pawnbroker's silver ring from a strongbox under his stand. Once you have it, I want you to place it in Brand-Shei, the dark elf trader's pocket without him noticing."

"A Dunmer? That's an odd name for a Dunmer."

"He may be a dark elf by birth, but he was raised Argonian. You can figure out his story on your own later."

"Alright, shall we?"

Both of them walk out The Bee and Barb without asking each other's name. The other person is a Nord man, with a rugged, charismatic appearance. Short, tousled dark hair and sharp facial features coupled with a confident demeanor and piercing green eyes that adds to his alluring yet roguish charm. His features of red hair and green eyes reminded Ibnor of Harin. 

"Wait until I start the distraction and then show me what you're made of." The charming rogue said.

He proceeded to the middle of the marketplace plaza, and began sorting out bottles of unknown substance inside, on a prepared stall stand.

"Everyone! Everyone! Gather 'round! I have something amazing to show you that demands your attention!" The charming rogue starts making a scene, catching the attention of fellow sellers and other spectators who happened to pass by.

"No pushing, no shoving. Plenty of room!"

"Come on, Brynjolf… What is it this time?" a Dunmer asked.

"Patience, Brand-Shei. This is a rare opportunity, and would want you to get left out." the charming rogue, now revealed as Brynjolf answered.

"So that's Brand-Shei…" Ibnor made a mental note.

"That's what you said about Wisp Essence and it turned out to be crushed nirnroot mixed with water!" An Argonian said.

"That was a simple misunderstanding, Madesi. But this item is the real thing! Lads and lasses, I give you… Falmerblood Elixir!"

"And that's Madesi…" Ibnor adds another mental note before starting his assignments.

"Oh, come on, are you talking about the Snow Elves?" Brand-Shei asked. 

"The one and only! Mystical beings who live in legends and were masters of great magic. Imagine the power that coursed through their veins!"

"How did you get that, then? No one's seen them in years!" Madesi asked, obviously sceptical.

"My sources must remain a secret for their own protection but I can promise that the contents are genuine. One sip of the elixir and your wishes will be granted. Great wealth, everlasting life or perhaps limitless power could be yours!"

"How much does it cost?" Ask Brand-Shei.

"Only twenty gold septims! Hurry before my supply is gone."

"Don't listen to him, he's making this up!"

"What a waste of time…"

"Twenty coins? No one has that much."

"I dunno, sounds like I should try it."

"He has to be lying!"

"Why would you even listen to him?"

"I can't afford to get one, but can I afford not to?"

"That Wisp essence didn't help, but maybe this will."

"What if he's right? Maybe I'll buy one."

"Damn, I knew I shouldn't have waited."

The crowds have various reactions to the so-called Falmerblood Elixir. Some refused to believe, some wanted to believe while the others didn't believe but hoped to gamble on their luck. Despite all the reaction, Brynjolf however managed to sell most of the elixir he had in store. Ibnor slowly steps away from the crowds and gives Brynjolf a signal. Once the crowds had dispersed, Brynjolf approached Ibnor who was waiting on a bench overlooking the marketplace plaza.

"Looks like I chose the right person for the job. And here you go… Your payment, just as promised." Brynjolf said as he handed Ibnor a pouch of gold coins. 

"Now what?"

"Now we watch the finale of our little show." Brynjolf said, signaling to the marketplace plaza. Few guards can be seen gathering around Brand-Shei.

"Alright, Brand-Shei. Turn out your pockets, we know you have it."

"Have what? What in blaze are you talking about?"

"Don't play stupid. I said, turn out your pockets… Now!"

"I'm telling you, I don't… Wait, what's this ring? This isn't mine!"

"That's right. It isn't yours. You are under arrest, Brand-Shei."

"This is insane! I didn't steal anything! I never saw this ring before in my entire life!"

"We can do this one of two ways. You can walk with me up to the keep, or I can drag your lifeless body. Your choice."

"But… I… Very well.." Brand-Shei gave up. He figures it's much better sitting in the lock up alive, rather than dying for defying the guard. However, he still let his dissatisfaction know as they walked to the keep.

"Who did this to me? This is unfair! I'm innocent! This city is corrupt! You 're all corrupt!"

Brynjolf lets out a sigh when the drama ends.

"Why are we doing this to Brand-Shei?" Ibnor asked.

"We've been contracted to make sure Brand-Shei remembers not to meddle in affairs that aren't his own. Now, since we're not the Dark Brotherhood, we're not going to kill him, we're just going to make sure he sits in the prison for a few days. The way things have been going around here, it's a relief that our plan went off without a hitch." Brynjolf answered.

"Why?" 

"Bah. My organization's been having a run of bad luck, but I suppose that's just how it goes. But never mind that, you did the job and you did it well. Best of all, there's more where that came from… If you think you can handle it."

"Sure… it doesn't hurt to have more money."

"Alright, then Let's put that to the test. The group I represent has its home in the Ratway beneath Riften… A tavern called the Ragged Flagon. Get there in one piece and we'll see if you've really got what it takes."

"Why not discuss things here, now?"

"The walls have ears and you're being tested, lad. We'll talk in the Ragged Flagon." With that, Brynjolf walks away and disappears among the crowds. Ibnor spends the rest of the morning detailing his plans.

"Among all the routes, this would have the least blood spilled. Some might say there is no difference between killing one and one thousand, but this is my reality now. I need time to grow stronger. The other faction wouldn't guarantee my survival. The Guild should be able to provide me the opportunity to polish my skills. Still risky, but it's the lowest compared to the other factions. But I got his nagging feeling that I'm forgetting something…" He thought to himself.

He went to the nearest stairs down to the lower level of Riften, just beside the Honorhall Orphanage. He took a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth, preparing himself. 

"Something troubling you, son?" a concerned voice asked. Ibnor turns to see a Redguard priest in a yellow hooded monk robe. 

"A priest? Before I answer you, answer me this. Do you accept charity?"

"Of course! I'd be more than happy to add a donation to our charity box. Right now, the best you could provide is coins. We need all the help we can get." The Redguard priest is a bit taken back by his question.

"Here, take this." Ibnor handed him a pouch of gold coins.

"Thank you! I can promise you that this will be put to good use."

"I know you will, priest. I know you will. Earlier you asked me if there is something troubling me. Yes, I do. I'm concerned about what I'm about to do. There is no coming back from this. I'll die if I don't make it. What's worse, even if I make it, the current me will die. When I emerge as the new me, would there still be a place for me, in this brighter side of the world?"

"I don't know what you've gone through, and I won't pretend that I do. However, I am a priest of Mara. Mara's domain encompassess the emotions we strive the most to embrace. Love, compassion and understanding. It's difficult to appreciate her gifts in these dark times, but you should consider her light, a beacon in the storm." The priest said.

"Thank you, priest. It's comforting knowing at least I won't be totally forsaken." Ibnor thanked the priest and walked down the stairs, into the Ratway.

"May you return to Her Benevolence in safety." The priest whispered, watching from above as Ibnor closed the entrance door.

The Ratway is a network of sewer tunnels running beneath Riften. It's also the home for two types of people. The lowlife and the vagrants. The lowlife are common criminals of Riften, from the lowest thief to a fugitive murderer hiding from authorities. The vagrants, on the other hand, are those who do not conform to the norms of society. They took matters into their own hands, disregarding the law and society. 

Just as Ibnor closed the entrance door, his ears caught a conversation.

"I dunno, Drahft. They's skin us alive if they knew we were doin; this"

"Why are you always acting like such a big baby? I've gotten us this far."

"This far? We're livin' in a sewer. You said we'd have a house as big as the Black-Briars by now."

"You worry about bashing people head;s in, I'll worry about the guild. Okay?"

"Okay, okay."

"I'm going to check the entrance to the Ratway. Be right back."

Without being able to do anything, Ibnor only stood there and the lowlife named Drahft saw him as soon as he emerged from a corner. 

"Well, well. Look what we have here. Hewnon! Come here!" Drahft called his partner without letting his eyes leave Ibnor. "It's your unlucky day. Empty your pocket or end up as skeever food."

"I'm just looking for the Ragged Flagon." said Ibnor, still hoping to settle things peacefully even though he knew the chances were slim.

"Brynjolf's been sending idiots like you down here for years, looking for their hideout. Funny thing is his stupid Thieves Guild never counted on me and my partner here, blocking the way. Now, empty your pockets or I'll pick the gold off your corpse."

"How much to let me pass?" 

"You aren't going to pass. You're going to give me everything you have. Whether you leave here in one piece is up to you."

"I tried…" Ibnor muttered softly.

"What are you mumbling about?"

"I said, how about I kill you instead?"

"Suit yourself. Get 'em Hewnon!" 

The lowlife called Hewnon didn't manage to do anything before he found a dagger lodged in his throat. Choked in his own blood, he died with his hands on his throat and eyes opened in disbelief. Drahft looked at Hewnon's corpse in shock, and turned to Ibnor, wanting to scream profanities.

"You..!" But didn't manage to finish his sentence as he lost sight of Ibnor. Suddenly a pair of hands grabbed his head from behind and with a twist, life faded from his eyes. Quick, simple and ruthless. Another lowlife which happened to stumble upon them scampered back to where he came from, terrified. 

Ibnor took his dagger and wiped the blood on it with their clothes before sheathing it back behind his hip. He collects the dropped colored balls without checking them and continues to search for the Ragged Flagon. 

Along the way, he encounters other lowlifes a few times and most of them are unlucky enough to try and rob him. In the end, he walked away from the fight with some more dropped colored balls. 

Finally he reached the Ragged Flagon. When he enters the door, he can see five dirtied alcoves around him, clearly abandoned and haven't been in use for a long time, considering the accumulated dust. Further in front is a circular shallow pool, with a wooden deck opposite and the actual tavern behind. Following the path around to the right, beyond the fifth alcoves is a wooden bridge spanning the water beneath, with a tavern sign hanging from a post on the right. 

As he walks nearer to the counter, Brynjolf's voice can be heard talking with few other people.

"Give it up, Brynjolf… those days are over."

"I'm telling you, this one is different…" said Brynjolf.

"We've all heard that one before, Bryn! Quit kidding yourself."

"It's time to face the truth, old friend. You, Vex, Mercer… you're all part of a dying breed. Things are changing!"

By that time, Brynjolf, who was facing the door's direction, noticed him coming over. 

"Dying breed, eh? Well, what do you call that, then?" He said, pointing to Ibnor. His two friends leave him and continue doing their own stuff.

"Well, well… Color me impressed, lad. I wasn't certain I'd ever see you again!"

"Getting here was easy."

"Reliable and headstrong? You're turning out to be quite the prize! So… Now that I've whetted your appetite with our little scheme at the market, how about handling a few deadbeats for me?"

"Deadbeats? Who are they?"

"Keerava, Bersi Honey-Hand and Haelga. Do this right, and I can promise you a permanent place in our organization."

"How did you want me to handle it?"

"Honestly, the debt is secondary here. What's more important is that you get the message across that we aren't to be ignored. A word of advice though… I don;t want any of them killed. Bad for business."

"Consider it done."

"Good. If you need any details on your marks, I'll be here. Now get going."

It was already night time when Ibnor surfaced back on Riften. He went straight to the first target, Bersi Honey-Hand, a Nord who owned the general goods store in Riften. Walking inside the store, he was greeted by the unsuspecting owner. 

"Welcome to the Pawned Prawn. What can I do for you?"

"Pawned Prawn? Your shop has a most unusual name."

"Catchy, isn't it? In my youth I was a fisherman… I had a beautiful ship named "The Brawny Prawn". But the years have a way creeping up on you. I ended up selling that ship to open this place. Seemed only fitting to name it after her. Well, changed it a bit I suppose. If I had been smarter, I would have kept my boat. Coming to this city was a big mistake."

"What's wrong with Riften?" Ibnor asked the store owner.

"The question is, what isn't wrong with Riften. This city is corrupt. Rotten to the core. No one cares about anything except themselves and how much coin they can make off the misery of others."

"Maybe you should speak to the authorities."

"Authorities? Have you been listening to what I said? They're all dirty. Everyone of them. The only way to get things done in this city is to keep your head down and pay off the right people." 

"Right… Speaking of paying the right people, I have a message from Brynjolf." Ibnor dropped the bomb. Bersi is clearly taken aback.

"Wha… What? Oh, it's one of you people. So, Brynjolf doesn't even bother to show up himself anymore, eh? What's this message?" 

"Simple, you don't pay, bad things happen."

"Petty threats and fist waving are not gonna sway me. You people are all talk, and everyone knows it! Pay to protect me? You can't even protect yourselves!"

Ibnor started pacing around the shop slowly, taking his time observing the items in the store. He picked one of the dwarven puzzle cubes on display and played with it.

"We can protect ourselves. Trust me." he said as he put the dwarven puzzle cube back to its place.

"Don't fool yourself. It's only a matter of time before you people are run out of Riften!"

Ibnor picks another item, a torchbug in a jar and starts to play with it too, tapping the glass jar. 

"Not quite. I have a plan to move from Riften, but it doesn't mean Riften will be out of our palm." Ibnor said while still looking at the torchbug. Putting the torchbug back but still with his attention to the items on the display, he continued speaking. "Have you thought things through?" 

"I'm sorry, you're going to have to leave. Tell Brynjolf he'll just have to make due without my coin."

Ibnor kept exploring the store leisurely until he came to a stop in front of a dwarven urn. He picked it up and suddenly smashed it on the floor, breaking it into pieces. 

"No! That urn was priceless!" Bersi shouted in horror. Watching his favourite urn broken, his heart shattered the same.

"I would prefer to settle things peacefully. Do you want to hold up your end of the deal or do you want me to break anything else?"

"Alright! I get it! I'll pay on time from now on. Just… Just don't smash anything else. Here, take your gold and leave me in peace." Bersi gave up, knowing his loss will only be greater if he kept insisting not to pay. 

Ibnor walked out of the store with the gold as if nothing ever happened. Just as the door closed, Bersi's wife came out of her hiding.

"You keep giving and giving, Bersi, and they'll keep taking and taking. When is it going to end?"

"What would you have me do, woman? Cross the Guild? Take them all on one by one?"

"You know I don't mean that. We need to find a way out of this. Perhaps talk to Laila…"

"Laila is as clueless as she is stupid. No. If anything's to be done about this, we have to deal with it ourselves."

"But, like you said, what? How?"

"I don't know, Drifa. But I believe that Mara will shine her light in this city."

"You will be the death of me, Bersi. You spend too much time worrying about the city, and not enough about yourself."

Strolling around in Riften at night is bound to attract many eyes hidden in the shadows. Each pair will consider one of three options. Make a move, pretend they didn't see anything or simply get out of the way. This is because there are only two types of people that will stroll around openly as if it's nobody's business. One, the naive clueless newcomer or two, someone you shouldn't mess with.

The guards kept an eye on Ibnor as he moved towards his second target, Haelga. When he reached the target's place, Haelga Bunkhouse, he knocked on the door. The door opened and he was greeted by a young Nord woman. 

"Yes? How can I help you? If you're looking for a place to stay the night, the Bunkhouse isn't an inn. I'd recommend the Bee and Barb." 

"Good evening. I am here to speak with Haelga. Is she around?"

"I'll get her. Please wait for a bit…" The young woman looked sceptical but decided to give him the benefit of a doubt and went to call Haelga. As soon as Haelga emerged from the door, her eyes went wide.

"You!" she almost shrieked. The surprise in her eyes quickly shifted to joy and soon, anticipation.