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(The ragged flagon)

Delvin Mallory: Ok, Aribeth, my dear! Here's your fishing job you need to do. Your mark lives in solitude, but a bloody good thief like yourself should have no trouble finding her!

Aribeth Battle-Born: Of course not! And you'd better drop the pet name "dear", you old creep!

Delvin Mallory: My apologies! I'll try my luck with Vex. Now go get it done.

(Aribeth strides into the winking skeever in Solitude. The 22 year old nord female is wearing her standard issue thieves guild leather armor, which does a very good job at concealing her otherwise very prominent breasts. Her hood is over her head fully concealing her hair and face. She is carrying only an ebony dagger as a weapon, chiefly relying on her uncanny thieving skills instead of skills with a blade. In fact, it is completely impossible to tell that she even is a female. She sees her assigned mark, and makes a beeline for her at first, but then, a male nord Imperial Legionnare who is sitting at the bar catches the corner of her eye. The Imperial Praefect has very broad shoulders and is athletic and muscular, due to actively fighting for the Legion and is wearing a full suit of heavy Imperial armor, he is carrying a standard issue one handed Imperial sword without a shield, he has removed his helmet and has short, coal black hair, he is clean shaven, and has a small battle scar across the cheek.)

(Aribeth swoons and has to literally fall seated into a chair at one of the tables. Her eyes widen and travel the length of his body multiple times, her heart races very rapidly, her jaw drops, she gasps for breath a few times, and she thinks, "By the Nine! That Imperial Legionnare is SOOOOO cute!!! He seems to be getting deep in his cups, too. Could it be over a woman, I wonder? Well, no guts, no glory! I'm talking to him and finding out!)

(After regaining her composure, Aribeth strides to the bar and takes a seat beside him. She pulls her thieves guild hood down, revealing her beautiful face, and lets her red hair down, which falls about 6 inches short of her waist. She then unfastens her thieves guild cuirass and pulls it just low enough to reveal her cleveage.)

Aribeth Battle-Born: Hey, that's your third cup of mead I've seen you have! Are you ok?

Rolgan Direblade: My little brother was killed in action by the stormcloaks two days ago! It would have been bad enough if General Tullius broke the bad news to me, but I actually saw it happen with my own two eyes! He never saw the arrow in time to dodge it, and after his knees buckled, a stormcloak son of a bitch cut my brother's head off with his iron greatsword! Granted, I took my revenge and we were victorious, but I will never see my brother again!

Aribeth Battle-Born: I'm so sorry, sweetie! By the way, I'm Aribeth. Might I have the honor of your name?

Rolgan Direblade: Rolgan Direblade. Do you have a last name?

Aribeth Battle-Born hesitates for several seconds, then finally mutters: Battle-Born.

Rolgan Direblade: So, are you a member of the Battle-Born clan of Whiterun?

Aribeth Battle-Born: Not anymore. My father, Olfrid and I didn't exactly see eye to eye with each other when I was younger, and I ran away from home and joined the Riften thieves' guild. I don't think the Battle-Borns even know I'm still alive.

Rolgan Direblade is still blinded with grief from his loss, and wails: My brother was the last member of my family! My parents also died at the hands of the stormcloaks! I might just have to do something stupid and let the stormcloaks end my life!

(It is like the Solitude docks after a pouring rainstorm under Aribeth's guild armor leggings, and frustrated by his failure to notice her subtle flirting, Aribeth quickly loses control of her urges, and uses the approach of a female sabre cat in heat. Rolgan picks up his drink, and Aribeth snatches it out of his hand and places it out of his reach. She holds him close and gives him a very long, wet, and passionate French kiss with with a lot of tongue, and at the same time runs one hand through his hair, she puts one leg over his knee, then she lifts up the steel plated skirt of his Imperial armor, and grabs the inside of his thigh with her other hand)

Rolgan pushes her back smiling, blushing red as a flame atronoch, and getting just as hot under his steel collar, and says: WHOA!!! Get out from under there, honey! You thieves guild women really know how to make your intentions clear to a man! Honestly, your tongue inside mouth was just like a potion of ultimate healing for my emotions, which is one ailment that restoration magic cannot cure! How about I rent us a room and we take this upstairs?

Aribeth Battle-Born: Oh, yes! Rent one and take me there, RIGHT NOW, you sexy man!!!

(Rolgan purchases a room from the innkeeper, and they both hustle to their room. Aribeth shoves him inside and locks the door behind them, and they resume their passionate make-out. In the throes of passion, both their respective thieves guild and heavy imperial armor is aggressively torn off, and Aribeth lets out countless cries of ecstacy and pleas for Rolgan not to stop and to keep giving her more as he makes a woman out of her, neither one of them caring who is listening. Rolgan "finishes" a total of 7 times inside her before both their dragonbone arrow quivers are empty, and they fall asleep happy and satisfied in bed in each other's warm embrace.)

It is morning, Aribeth kisses Rolgan to wake him up and says: Good Morning. You were halfway drunk last night. I hope you don't think I took advantage of you!

Rolgan: Absolutely not! I know it seems impulsive, but let's get married!

Aribeth: Oh Yes! A thousand times YES! I'm abandoning the thieves' guild, and I totally want to see Olfrid and the other Battle-Borns again! You are my rock, my love. I want you to take me to them!

(Rolgan and Aribeth go to Whiterun for the big reunion)

Olfrid Battle-Born: ARIBETH?!!!! Is that truly you?! I thought you had been killed by the stormcloaks, duagur, or who knows what!

Aribeth: Yes, it's me! This wonderful man, named Rolgan Direblade, made me realize the error of my ways of abandoning my own family, and he wants to marry me!

Olfrid Battle-Born: Well, absolutely, he has my permission! If you'll talk with the rest of the family, I'm going to have a private father in-law to son in-law talk with Rolgan!

Olfrid: Ok, Rolgan, It may seem out of character for a father to give his approval right away like this, but I have my reasons, and not just because you gave me my daughter back. Also, I never approved of her becoming a member of the thieves guild, because as you know, Riften is loyal to the stormcloaks, and I want you to make sure she stays out of Riften. Can I count on that?

Rolgan: Sure thing, Olfrid! She already made it clear she was giving up that life!

Olfrid: Excellent! And it's "dad" now, not "Olfrid"

(Rolgan and Aribeth are married at the temple of the divines in Solitude)

Aribeth: Rolgan, I'm so happy now that I've found you! And I have news that will make both of us even happier!

Rolgan: Really, what?

Aribeth: I'm pregnant! It looks like the Direblade family name might just survive and not die out!

Rolgan: Well, hopefully, it will be a boy! We'll just have to find out, my love!
 
Last edited:
(The ragged flagon)

Delvin Mallory: Ok, Aribeth, my dear! Here's your fishing job you need to do. Your mark lives in solitude, but a bloody good thief like yourself should have no trouble finding her!

Aribeth Battle-Born: Of course not! And you'd better drop the pet name "dear", you old creep!

Delvin Mallory: My apologies! I'll try my luck with Vex. Now go get it done.

(Aribeth strides into the winking skeever in Solitude. The 22 year old nord female is wearing her standard issue thieves guild leather armor, which does a very good job at concealing her otherwise very prominent breasts. Her hood is over her head fully concealing her hair and face. She is carrying only an ebony dagger as a weapon, chiefly relying on her uncanny thieving skills instead of skills with a blade. In fact, it is completely impossible to tell that she even is a female. She sees her assigned mark, and makes a beeline for her at first, but then, a male nord Imperial Legionnare who is sitting at the bar catches the corner of her eye. The Imperial Praefect has very broad shoulders and is athletic and muscular, due to actively fighting for the Legion and is wearing a full suit of heavy Imperial armor, he is carrying a standard issue one handed Imperial sword without a shield, he has removed his helmet and has short, coal black hair, he is clean shaven, and has a small battle scar across the cheek.)

(Aribeth swoons and has to literally fall seated into a chair at one of the tables. Her eyes widen and travel the length of his body multiple times, her heart races very rapidly, her jaw drops, she gasps for breath a few times, and she thinks, "By the Nine! That Imperial Legionnare is SOOOOO cute!!! He seems to be getting deep in his cups, too. Could it be over a woman, I wonder? Well, no guts, no glory! I'm talking to him and finding out!)

(After regaining her composure, Aribeth strides to the bar and takes a seat beside him. She pulls her thieves guild hood down, revealing her beautiful face, and lets her red hair down, which falls about 6 inches short of her waist. She then unfastens her thieves guild cuirass and pulls it just low enough to reveal her cleveage.)

Aribeth Battle-Born: Hey, that's your third cup of mead I've seen you have! Are you ok?

Rolgan Direblade: My little brother was killed in action by the stormcloaks two days ago! It would have been bad enough if General Tullius broke the bad news to me, but I actually saw it happen with my own two eyes! He never saw the arrow in time to dodge it, and after his knees buckled, a stormcloak son of a bitch cut my brother's head off with his iron greatsword! Granted, I took my revenge and we were victorious, but I will never see my brother again!

Aribeth Battle-Born: I'm so sorry, sweetie! By the way, I'm Aribeth. Might I have the honor of your name?

Rolgan Direblade: Rolgan Direblade. Do you have a last name?

Aribeth Battle-Born hesitates for several seconds, then finally mutters: Battle-Born.

Rolgan Direblade: So, are you a member of the Battle-Born clan of Whiterun?

Aribeth Battle-Born: Not anymore. My father, Olfrid and I didn't exactly see eye to eye with each other when I was younger, and I ran away from home and joined the Riften thieves' guild. I don't think the Battle-Borns even know I'm still alive.

Rolgan Direblade is still blinded with grief from his loss, and wails: My brother was the last member of my family! My parents also died at the hands of the stormcloaks! I might just have to do something stupid and let the stormcloaks end my life!

(It is like the Solitude docks after a pouring rainstorm under Aribeth's guild armor leggings, and frustrated by his failure to notice her subtle flirting, Aribeth quickly loses control of her urges, and uses the approach of a female sabre cat in heat. Rolgan picks up his drink, and Aribeth snatches it out of his hand and places it out of his reach. She holds him close and gives him a very long, wet, and passionate French kiss with with a lot of tongue, and at the same time runs one hand through his hair, she puts one leg over his knee, then she lifts up the steel plated skirt of his Imperial armor, and grabs the inside of his thigh with her other hand)

Rolgan pushes her back smiling, blushing red as a flame atronoch, and getting just as hot under his steel collar, and says: WHOA!!! Get out from under there, honey! You thieves guild women really know how to make your intentions clear to a man! Honestly, your tongue inside mouth was just like a potion of ultimate healing for my emotions, which is one ailment that restoration magic cannot cure! How about I rent us a room and we take this upstairs?

Aribeth Battle-Born: Oh, yes! Rent one and take me there, RIGHT NOW, you sexy man!!!

(Rolgan purchases a room from the innkeeper, and they both hustle to their room. Aribeth shoves him inside and locks the door behind them, and they resume their passionate make-out. In the throes of passion, both their respective thieves guild and heavy imperial armor is aggressively torn off, and Aribeth lets out countless cries of ecstacy and pleas for Rolgan not to stop and to keep giving her more as he makes a woman out of her, neither one of them caring who is listening. Rolgan "finishes" a total of 7 times inside her before both their dragonbone arrow quivers are empty, and they fall asleep happy and satisfied in bed in each other's warm embrace.)

It is morning, Aribeth kisses Rolgan to wake him up and says: Good Morning. You were halfway drunk last night. I hope you don't think I took advantage of you!

Rolgan: Absolutely not! I know it seems impulsive, but let's get married!

Aribeth: Oh Yes! A thousand times YES! I'm abandoning the thieves' guild, and I totally want to see Olfrid and the other Battle-Borns again! You are my rock, my love. I want you to take me to them!

(Rolgan and Aribeth go to Whiterun for the big reunion)

Olfrid Battle-Born: ARIBETH?!!!! Is that truly you?! I thought you had been killed by the stormcloaks, duagur, or who knows what!

Aribeth: Yes, it's me! This wonderful man, named Rolgan Direblade, made me realize the error of my ways of abandoning my own family, and he wants to marry me!

Olfrid Battle-Born: Well, absolutely, he has my permission! If you'll talk with the rest of the family, I'm going to have a private father in-law to son in-law talk with Rolgan!

Olfrid: Ok, Rolgan, It may seem out of character for a father to give his approval right away like this, but I have my reasons, and not just because you gave me my daughter back. Also, I never approved of her becoming a member of the thieves guild, because as you know, Riften is loyal to the stormcloaks, and I want you to make sure she stays out of Riften. Can I count on that?

Rolgan: Sure thing, Olfrid! She already made it clear she was giving up that life!

Olfrid: Excellent! And it's "dad" now, not "Olfrid"

(Rolgan and Aribeth are married at the temple of the divines in Solitude)

Aribeth: Rolgan, I'm so happy now that I've found you! And I have news that will make both of us even happier!

Rolgan: Really, what?

Aribeth: I'm pregnant! It looks like the Direblade family name might just survive and not die out!

Rolgan: Well, hopefully, it will be a boy! We'll just have to find out, my love!

Just to clarify, this is actually actually a side story to Lissette Direblade the stormcloak butcher girl. That character happens to be the child Aribeth Battle-Born Direblade gives birth to!
 

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