Spoiler Path of the Thief

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Madrar

The Shadow in the Dark.
Chapter One


"I am truly sorry, boy" the burly Nord said, his face hidden behind the visor of a Rift guard. Arthonir Goldblade couldn't meet the man's eyes. The sixteen year old boy had traveled to Riften to get medicines for his dying mother, but had arrived too late. His father had died when he was four. He had no one left. Arthonir felt his knees give way, and saw the guard moving to grab him before he fell. A voice calls to him out of the darkness: "Boy...Boy, get up!"

Something hard hit Arthonir in the ribs, and he grunted. That was when he realized that he'd been dreaming. The smell of mildew and mold hit him, and his eyes opened to behold the scowling visage of one Mercer Frey. "Get UP!" The irate guild leader snarled, bringing his booted foot back for another kick. As the guild masters' foot whipped in, Arthonir's hand lashed out, grabbing the mans' ankle. Mercer grunted in surprise, and struggled to keep his balance. " I heard you the first time" the young twenty year old Nord grumbled, releasing his leader's limb and sitting up.Even slurred with weariness, the mans' voice carried a hint of the Breton accent, and was smoother than the harsh Nordic voices. "Then listen!" Snarled the Breton, non too pleased at being shown up in front of the guild.

The young Nord only grinned. "Do you have a reason for waking me, or can I go back to sleep?" Frey's jaw worked for a few moments, but he seemed to overcome the urge to punch his younger guild member in the face. " You've got a job. Brynjolf has the details" With that he stormed out, his boots pounding on the stone floor. Chuckling, the Nord dressed and walked out of the Cistern, entering the Flagon itself. Delvin Mallory, Dirge, Vekel, and Brynjolf were in attendance.

Delvin grinned at him from where he was sitting with Brynjolf and waved him over. "So, you been tormentin' Mercer again?" the older man cackled. Arthonir smirked and took a seat at the table "is it that obvious?" The two older guild members exchanged grins and nodded in unison. "Well, he did just come through here like a thunderstorm" laughed Brynjolf, which set off the other two thieves. "Anyways, you've got a job" explained the red-haired Nord. Now the older man was completely serious. "This won't be a run of the mill robbery, lad" Brynjolf cautioned, "the guild master is sending you to Raldbthar...to get a Dwemer Gyro" Arthonir was not experienced to know of the significance attached to the object.

Delvin however, did. " Is he trying to get the kid killed?" The Breton snarled, before glancing at Arthonir "No offense, Art' " he said and Brynjolf squirmed in his seat, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "I can't read his mind" he retorted, before glancing at Arthonir. For his part, the young Nord believed the other two were attempting to short change him. Indignantly, he stood "I don't fear a bunch of blind freaks or ghosts!" he announced, turning and heading back to the Cistern, retrieving his steel sword and dagger.

The others looked more than a little concerned over his angry behavior. Sapphire, the one guild member that had watched over him like a little brother since he'd arrived obviously knew something was wrong. "Hey, Arthonir..you ok?" The young man buckled his sword belt angrily, and met his friends eye. " I'm fine, Sapphire, just- I'm fine" he said, his voice taut with anger. He left the room, heading for the ladder that headed out to the rest of Riften. he heard Brynjolf call him from across the room, but paid the voice no heed.

To be continued.
 

Gunnbjorn

Formerly known as Arillious
More please. :D

I never could play a good thief, but I love watching, and thinking like one sometimes... I'm liking it so far, make a chapter 2 soon please.

Also, take a look at my fan fiction as well, link is in the signature. Thanks.
 

Madrar

The Shadow in the Dark.
A/N: Thanks for the positive review Arillious:) . Yeah, this is my first non-vampire fanfic, so it'll be a little different than what my usual readers are used to.
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He left Riften shortly after, still angry at his fellow thieves. His pace was set and determined as he marched his way in Windhelms general direction, aiming for the mountains near the ancient city. According to the map that he'd been bought off one of the vendors' in the market place, which told him Raldbthar was to the north and slightly to the east, between the White river and lake Yorgrim.

He walked for the better part of the day, but he only made it to Shor's Stone. He paid ten gold to stay the night, deciding that wandering about at night would only get him lost, or worse, attacked by the ravenous wolves that were said to wander the woods of the Rift. His dreams were troubled, and he slept poorly. As a result, he was still tired when he headed out the next day. Stubbornly he placed one foot in front of the other and eventually arrived at Kynesgrove, hungry and footsore. Of course he had along bow and iron arrows for hunting, but he had little experience with the weapon.

He slept slightly better that night, and headed out for what he estimated would be the last leg of his journey. He'd barely made an hour of travel when snow started to fall. Not light, fluffy snow either, but thick, whipping snowflakes, that cut into Arthonirs' face and hands like daggers. He drew his cloak tightly around him and stuck his numb fingers under his armpits for warmth, but snow was the least of his troubles.

A chorus of howls announced the arrival of wolves, and soon they came loping out of the blizzard, great white wolves, with thick pelts and long teeth. Swearing softly, the young thief drew his sword, wondering if he could get a strike in before they ripped him apart. The wolf on the right crouched down, and snarled, ready to spring. When it did leap at Arthonir, he yelled, swinging his blade to intercept. The blade connected with the beasts head, probably surprising it as much as Arthonir surprised himself.

Unfortunately, the dead weight of the wolf drove him to the ground, and pinned his sword arm. The other three wolves snarled and barked at him. They moved in for the kill, mouths hanging open. The lead wolf abruptly yelped and leapt a foot into the air, before falling to the ground, quiet dead, with an ebony shafted arrow in it's ribs. Stunned, Arthonir watched as arrows struck the two other wolves as well, felling them where they stood.

Then all was silent, except for the wind. "Hello? Is anyone there?" Arthonir called from his position under the dead wolf. No one answered, which meant his unknown savior either was planning on putting an arrow into him as well, or they were gone. Grunting, he managed to shove the wolf corpse to the ground and stood, very, very cautiously. Nothing. Except for the snow that was missing from a small, but sturdy tree. Shaking his head at the strangeness of it all, he turned and continued on.

That evening, he arrived at Raldbthar. Bandits stood guard outside, but in the heavy snow, it was child's play to sneak past them. Grateful for the warmth inside the ruin, he nevertheless remained cautious, as he dodged the sporadic patrols of bandits. Eventually, he arrived at the great doors that lead deeper into the ruins. The door squealed alarmingly loudly and the thief winced, expecting the bandits to come running. However, no one came running, in fact it seemed almost too quiet on the other side of the door.
Leaving it open, he headed down the wide ramp leading to the ground level of the ruin.

He was smart enough to leave an escape route, and just hoped he wouldn't have to use it. A guttural snarl drew his attention to a small, pale green skinned creature, with blind, white eyes. Falmer. Apparently, the blind freaks had heard the door, and had picked up on Arthonirs' unfamiliar scent. Cringing, Arthonir readied his sword once again. The Falmer let out a shriek and sprang forwards, swinging a jagged blade at the intruder. Arthonir parried the attack, but only barely. Drawn by the sound of fighting, three more of the stooped, blind beasts rushed over, two brandishing similar weapons to the first, a third firing a bow.

Luckily for Arthonir, the arrow missed him by a couple of inches. However, he knew he couldn't even attempt to fight off the blind creatures on his own. So he leapt from the ramp, landing hard and rolling to diminish the impact. It seemed to work. The group hustled about, sniffing at the floor and air. One hopped up excitedly and ran in pursuit of something. Something in the opposite direction of where Arthonir had landed. Not about to challenge his second set of good luck in a day, he simply got up, dusted himself off, and headed deeper into the ruins.

Finally, after many more close encounters with the Falmer, he arrived at a smaller room, perhaps thirty meters by fifty meters. In the center of the room stood a golden arch, and in that arch stood a behemoth of metal. Within said behemoth's chest was a small orb, perhaps the size of Arthonirs' head. "Piece of cake" grinned the naive young man. He climbed up the metal constructs leg, light as he could be, and set his hand on the lightly glowing device. As soon as his hand touched the orb, the constructs eyes came to life. As did the rest of the massive thing. A dwarven centurion stared down at Arthonir as if he was some irritating insect that deserved swatting. Arthonir may have been foolish to believe the beast would stay asleep while he stole it's 'heart' of sorts. However, he wasn't stupid and dodged out of the way as the centurion brought it's hammer down where he'd been standing.

The centurion lumbered after him, singing it's blade and hammer arms respectively. Arthonir had the advantage of speed and being a small target. Unfortunately for the thief, he would tire quickly, where the dwemer construction would never run out of energy. Arthonir dashed in and landed a ringing blow on the centurions knee. In response, the huge thing swung it's blade at his mid section. It would have cut him in half if the man hadn't thrown himself to the floor. Scrambling, he barely missed the hammer blow that cratered the floor. Rising back to his feet, he grabbed his steel sword with both hands and swung the blade as hard as he could into centurions knee.

The blade snapped at the hilt. Arthonir, stunned by the failure of his attack, he forgot to dodge the incoming hammer. The impact smashed into him with the weight of a rock slide. He flew several meters and hit the ground hard. His entire body was in agony, but particularly his sword arm, leg and ribs. He groaned, trying to move his hand to his dagger and make a final, futile stand. The centurion stomped towards him, bringing the hammer up for a final, killing blow, when a black shafted arrow slammed into the behemoths' right eye. It actually stumbled backwards several feet, swaying uncertainly, before crashing to the ground in a ruined heap of metal.

Before Arthonir had time to even feel slightly relieved, nearly a dozen Falmer swarmed into the room, swinging a variety of deadly looking weapons above their heads. But they too were stopped by a barrage of black shafted arrows, the deadly things striking with unerring accuracy. When eight of the twelve were dead, Arthonir's rescuer finally made them self known. A figure, clearly female leaped from above him, cloaked and armoured in black. She drew a sword and dagger and set into the Falmer, striking, and dancing away before the dying creatures companions could get a counter attack together. Arthonir would have watched the beautiful dance of death but he succumbed to his pain, and blacked out.

Some time later he awoke to feel a cool cloth on his forehead and someone gently prodding certain spots on his right side. He'd also been moved onto his back and his arms and legs moved away from his side. "Who-" he started to ask, wanting to determine the name of his rescuer and thank her.
"Shh!" the surprisingly harsh voice admonished "You must keep your strength" Arthonir attempted to crane his neck to get a good view of the person tending to his wounds which earned him a stern glare and a firm " Lie still, unless you're planning on aggravating your injuries!" He caught only a glimpse of fur in the shadows of the hood, and a pair of eerie yellow-green eyes. "this will hurt" the woman warned taking a hold of his right arm, which was most likely broken. She moved the bone back into position, and Arthonir blacked out again.

To Be Continued.
 

Madrar

The Shadow in the Dark.
Chapter Three
Arthonir woke and looked about. His rescuer, a Khajiit woman, sat a little while away, her back to him, ears perked up and listening for enemies, no doubt. Her hood that she'd worn throughout the fight and after was removed. When she heard him move, she turned "So you're finally awake" she said, gathering up a few pieces of equipment. "We need to get moving. The Falmer will return sooner than I would like" gently but firmly she helped Arthonir to his feet.​
"How long do we have?" Asked Arthonir, wincing as he put pressure on his wounded leg. The Khajiit woman gave him a small potion bottle "here, drink all of it" she instructed. Arthonir stared at her suspiciously, and the woman noticed, and rolled her eyes " If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead!" she growled, marching over to a roughly oval shaped platform, with a lever in the middle. Arthonir couldn't argue with her logic, so he followed. The woman pulled the lever, and with a grating noise of gears, the platform went up, eventually stopping inside a small room, with a door. "This leads outside" she explained, opening the door.​
Arthonir was surprised at the womans' knowledge of the ruin but didn't question it. He had more pressing questions. "You're a Khajiit" he said dumbly. The Khajiit woman laughed shortly, but kept walking and the young thief followed "Well, there's certainly nothing wrong with your eyesight" she said, "any other magnificent questions spring to mind?" Arthonir, still feeling like an idiot, fumed silently, but his curiosity wouldn't be stopped by the Khajiits' sarcasm. "Who are you?" The woman kept walking, but this time she did look over her shoulder. "I go by many names, but you, Arthonir, can call me Shadow"​
"What are you?" was the man's next question, then hastily amended "I mean, you're clearly not a member of the thieves guild so-" Shadow waved him to silence with a lightly furred paw.​
"Depends on who you ask" she seemed to hesitate before saying "Murderess, assassin, guardian,thief, tracker, and in your case, a friend" Arthonir, not the most trusting soul, but something about the woman put him at ease. Despite the fact that she'd taken down a dwarven centurion, and a dozen Falmer, maybe more without even breaking a sweat. They marched back to he south, heading generally towards Riften, by the young mans' estimation.​
Darkness was falling when they stopped to make camp. Shadow spread her own bedroll under the canopy of a great evergreen, and motioned Arthonir to do the same. Afterwards, he helped her start a fire. Snow no longer blanketed the ground, but the wind still carried a chill.Shadow dug around in one of her belt pouches and withdrew a large chunk of salted venison, tore it in two pieces and tossed the Nord the larger piece. " Eat. You need to keep up your strength" she ordered.​
"What about you?" He asked, gesturing to the smaller piece in her hands. The Khajiit shrugged taking a bite, chewing and swallowing " I've survived on less" she said "what's important is your survival...no matter what" Arthonir frowned at her statement.​
"Where are we going?" He asked, his suspicions beginning to grow. He'd made plenty of enemies in his four years with the Thieves Guild, and plenty of them would pay to have him delivered to a private area where they could do what they pleased with him. Shadow hesitated, before saying "I'm taking you to a friend , who held your parents in the highest esteem" Arthonir frowned. He'd never met any of his mothers or father's friends , to his knowledge. He opened his mouth to tell her as much, when she held a hand up to stop him. " It's late, and we've still got a while to go" She laid down, murmuring "Get your rest Arthonir" she said drifting off to sleep He wondered briefly if he should try to escape,but figured the at the Khajiits' sharp ears would detect him before he got very far. Sighing, he laid his head on the cold ground and closed his eyes , drifting off to sleep.​
To be continued.​
 

Madrar

The Shadow in the Dark.
Chapter Four
Arthonir woke to a callused hand clamped down on his face. Panicking, he opened his eyes to see a beared and armoured man crouching over him. To his right, he heard a scuffle and realized his Khajiit companion had been captured as well. Which confused the thief, until he saw out of the corner of his eye a mage. The man must have cast a silencing spell on his comrades, allowing them to sneak up on the pair. His dagger was wrenched out of it's sheathe, as the man handed it to one of his companion. Then they dragged the two companions two a wide based tree and set their backs up against the trunk. There hands were securely bound by leather strips, they had basically no hope of escape.​
A large Nord in what looked like iron armor, probably the leader of the group of bandits, by the way he carried himself. He tossed the mage a bulging coin purse " thanks for the help, mage, now get outta here" the brute ordered. The magic user grinned and departed,into the pre-dawn mists. The bandit leader walked over to them, grinning lewdly at the Khajiit. " Now, the two of ye are going to tell me what you was doin' in my forest?" Shadow lifted an incredulous eyebrow. Meanwhile, Arthonir scanned the group, and estimated that there was about thirty of them.​
"Your forest?" She smirked, which earned her a hard boot in the side. Hissing in pain, she fell on her side, and the bandits laughed. "Yeah, it's my-" a scream of terror cut him off. The bandit leader looked a little concerned, but shrugged and turned to his men "Our mage must have seen a wolf!"​
He turned back to Arthonir and Shadow, his eyes narrowing and opened his mouth to speak again. Another scream rang out, this one of agony. Now the bandits were clearly nervous, a few drawing weapons. Then two figures dropped out of the trees, startling the bandits. One dashed to the side, drawing most of the nearest bandits to chase them. The second attacker pointed his arm straight up, sending a fireball well above the canopy. That seemed to be a signal for the rest of their group, as dark armoured figures sprinted out of the mist, attacking the shocked bandits. There was perhaps a dozen attackers, suicidal odds under normal circumstances.​
However, that was not the case. The attackers moved with supernatural speed, and Arthonir they were something other than human. His suspicions were confirmed when a petite Wood elf woman attacked the man guarding Shadow, wrapping her legs around the bandits' waist and biting into the mans' throat. Arthonir's guard, distracted by the bloody end of his companion never saw the pair of arrows that pierced his leather armor and knocked him to the ground. The bandits were not untrained, and they certainly were not badly equipped, and yet the battle barely took five minutes. A robed and hooded figure with red and gold threading running through the black had the bandit leader a meter in the air, by the throat. The vampire said something, and the bandit spat a curse back. With a crack like a stick snapping, the vampire crushed the mans' neck and windpipe, simply by increasing his grip. The man's limbs twitched involuntarily before the vampire dropped him to land in a heap of flash and iron.​
Now the robed and hooded figure turned to face Arthonir and Shadow. He said something in what sounded like elven to one of his companions, a man clad from head to toe in ebony armor. That ,man nodded and pointed at the two captives "cut their bonds" two vampires approached, a Redguard and an Imperial. The Imperial knelt in front of Arthonir, drawing a dagger. He had short silver grey hair and a neatly trimmed, equally silver beard. He seemed almost normal until he glanced up to meet the young Nords' gaze.His eyes were a gold red color and blazing with an unnatural hunger. The Imperial nodded curtly as Arthonir stuttered his thanks, and retreated from the Nord. He noticed that the Redguard vampire was retreating several meters as well.​
The hooded and robed vampire turned to face the two former prisoners and bent at the waist, bowing low. " Salthar Vivarian, at your service" the vampires tone was light and friendly.By the way he held himself, and his subconscious small movements, including the aura of fear and authority he seemed to send out in waves, Arthonir surmised he was the leader of the group.He had been an Altmer once, although his skin was extremely pale, it was almost hard to tell he'd been a descendant of those golden skin elves. The elven vampire smiled brightly when he saw Arthonirs' Khajiit companion "my dear Shadow, how nice it is to see in Skyrim once more!" he exclaimed. Shadow's response was cold, and not at all friendly; " It's temporary, I assure you" she said, her body language oozing contempt and unfriendly-ness. The thief also noticed that she had her deadly bow in one hand , and an arrow on the string.​
If the vampire was at all put off by Shadows' demonstration of hostility, he didn't show it. "A pity then, I have such warm memories of when you were a guest at my castle" his smile stayed in place as he turned to focus his attention on Arthonir. "And who might this young man be?" The vampire asked, glancing at Shadow, as if he didn't trust the thief to answer for himself. The Khajiit woman on the other hand, seemed to have gained some measure of respect from the vampire, and it was clear the two of them had a history. Not a happy one on Shadow's part, but it was clearly there. " He is Arthonir Goldblade the son of Larial and Arvjun Goldblade" Salthar's smile disappeared. He seemed, for all intents and purposes, quite stunned.​
"I was informed that the Goldblades' had no children"​
"Clearly, you were informed wrong" Shadow actually sounded smug. For his part, Arthonir was more than shocked. 'Did these two know my parents? It sure seems like it' he thought. The vampire said​
"It certainly appears that way" and glanced at one of his companions, who nodded once.​
then as if nothing had happened, his smile returned and he said "ah, but enough of this, won't the two of you join me for late breakfast?" He paused, then said "After all, you must be hungry after your ordeal, and the pitiful meal you shared last night" Arthonir frowned​
"You were watching us?" he asked, wondering how many other surprises this vampire had up his sleeve. Salthar nodded once "I had a couple of my brethren watch over you while you slept. After all, when a friend of mine said he'd seen a Khajiit woman matching your description, Shadow, I felt obliged to look out for you" then he swept his arms out, indicating the corpses "and now I'd say that my concern for your safety has been..validated. But enough of this, come, eat!"​
At his signal, a pair of vampires laid down an intricately marked table cloth on a clear patch of ground, and laid out foods ranging from a selection of cheese, to different cuts of meat. Also included were several bottles of wine, mead, ale, and utensils and plates. A veritable feast. Then to both Shadow and Arthonir's complete surprise, the vampire shrugged off his robe, revealing a dark grey almost black tunic and a pair of leather breeches. Then he sat on the cold ground, smiled and waved the two mortals over. Shadow eyed the food suspiciously, and Salthar sighed " Shadow, my dear woman, if I wished you dead, I wouldn't have needed to risk the lives of my fellow vampires rescuing you, would I?" finally, the Khajiit woman relaxed slightly, and retorted "you can never be too careful" before sitting across from the vampire. Arthonir sat as well, but glanced at the group of vampires, all watching with an air of detached interest. "What about your companions?" he asked, knowing vampires no longer needed mortal food to stay alive, but asking out of courtesy.​
"Don't worry about them, they've already caught their meals" Salthar assured him, pointing. The thief followed his arm and saw three vampires guarding a group of miserable looking bandits, their arms tied. He shuddered, feeling a tinge of pity for the poor souls that would make up the vampires' meals. As they started to eat, Arthonir asked, " so, is this your forest?" The vampire leader looked startled, before chuckling "hardly, my friends and I were simply reminding the bandits that they're not safe in the dark"​
then he continued "no, our home is near Falkreath, in the mountains". After that, the rest of the meal passed in silence, with Salthar drinking from a goblet that most certainly had no alcohol in it. When they finished, the leader of the vampires stood, and donned his robe once again. "And now we take our leave...farewell, Shadow, Arthonir" and with that the vampires began to file back into the forest, taking their miserable meals with them.​
For a while the two companions waited, half expecting the vampires to return and add them to the menu, but only the chill wind moved the trees. Once assured that they would not, in fact be made into meals, they stood and made their way towards Riften. Arthonir was certain that Shadow knew the vampire, and that she had known his parents. That was another thing he meant to ask her before they finished their journey.​

To Be Continued.
 

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