"Hehehe~HAHAHAH!!!", Jacoby couldn't help but laugh over the recent news, two years with his base of operations under Falkreath and he finally got news that amused him. "Runil drops dead and killer still at large? Why didn't I think of that sooner HAHAHA!!!" He slowly started calming down but continued his bantering inside his head. "I wonder what was going through his head before it began rolling on the floor, was it about the next meal he was going to have? Or perhaps what he had planned tomorrow. Oh the possibilities! I sure wonder what I could have sold off him~" Before he could continue, his protege and assistant, a young, Breton woman named Olyviah, walked in with an ominous letter in her hands.
"Boss, if you don't mind me interrupting, a letter came in for you. The Thieve's Guild. They require your assistance." The news confused Jacoby at first, he didn't know why they would want his help. He never played well with others, and all he's ever done for the Guild was help provide them with trinkets and a few bobbles. "I haven't read it myself, the courier said it's contents should only be known to you." She handed the shocked Dunmer the letter. He opened the letter, brushed the long white hair from his face to see, and cleared his throat. He said aloud, "TO JACOBY PNEULON, WE SEND THE FOLLO~" Olyviah immeditely cuts him off. "Boss, what did I just say? Your eyes only!" "Oh right, fine then, I didn't want you to know anyway." Jacoby gave her a sly grin as the unamused Breton just sighed. After minutes of reading it to himself, he looked back up at Olyviah with a serious look for once. "Olive, I'm putting you in charge of the market while I'm out... I know you may feel a bit lost without my leadership, but I'm sure you can carry out this task until I return." Olyviah, still with an annoyed look on her face, answered his request. "What are you talking about, Boss? I practically run this place everyday! You're always out playing vulture and hovering over graveyards all the time." Her tone then got lighter and more mellow, "Okay, I'll ask the guys to work twice as hard in the meantime. But for now, please don't hurt yourself out there, Jake. The Thieve's Guild provides quite the opportunity, but you're home is here with me and the rest of us running the market. Don't forget that." In reality, she knew he wasn't right in the head, but he was the only one who took her in with open arms, and didn't want to see him get hurt. Jacoby bid them farewell and returned to the surface. He hopped on his horse, Morgue (pretty self-explanatory), and rode off to Riften.
Arriving at Riften's stables, he passed the caravans and walked up to the guards, having to listen to their obvious demand. Jacoby didn't have time or money to spend, and tried to work his way around the burly guards. "Alright, allow me to get my coin purse, it's with my horse." The maniacal Dunmer then confronted the Khajiit caravanners with whom he was able to strike a deal with. He payed them a lower price to shout "Dragon! Dragon!" as he snuck past the unsuspecting guards. He passed them and was slowly approaching the gate. "Hehehe, idiotic moro-OOOF" As he was sneaking, a gigantic Nord in steel armor walked out, bumping into him. "Listen up, and listen good. The name's Maul, and if I were you, I'd remember it. 'Cause as long as you don't pay your tax, my name's all you'll remember when I bash your skull in." Jacoby sighed on the ground, this wasn't going to be easy.