Rain's Hand 23, 4E 201
"After evading the few Imperials who actually tried to hunt me down for days on end, from Solitude, all the way to Riften, my patience for those insufferable fools forced me to throw one over a rushing river. Personally, it was quite funny to watch him scream and drown, disappearing under the water as he flailed and hit rocks. After escaping the others in the dead of night with the ever-loving Jone and Jode hid behind the clouds, allowing me to get away with the winds of Khenarthi to the rathole that left me in that god-forsaken prison."
Walking towards the northern entrance with fatigue and pain, the scuffed up S'Jul-Dar approached the gates to see a pair of Riften guards, dressed in cloaked hood and iron armor, their loincloth depicting the crossed daggers of their city's standard.
"Well, look who comes back." One of them chuckled with mocking disdain. S'Jul-Dar simply frown and went to open the doors when the other stopped his outstretched arm, "Where do you think you are going, criminal? We've heard you was in Solitude prison and we doubt you was let out for good behavior." The large Nord said with ale-tasting breath.
With ears flat against his skull, Jul refused to make eye contact with the corrupt guard, "I am out and back home. Now please, Graf. May I pass?"
"Your master isn't here to protect you this time around," Graf mocked with a crooked smile, "Especially after failing her." Jul frowned deeply at the word Master and the main reason he was in Solitude jail. Satisfied with that, Graf opened the door, and chuckled, "Welcome home, Khajiit."
Jul quickly slipped by him and dodged through town using the corners towards the graveyard, he didn't need any of the surface agents seeing him. Finding the usual priest of Talos, who looked surprised towards him but nodded with a slight grin before returning to his business, the Khajiit entered the only tomb. Making sure no one else was around, he pressed the center of the symbol imprinted on the coffin, and waited for it to reveal the secret staircase.
With a growl, he stepped down and pulled the chained hoop to close it up before entering the trapdoor to his previous home. Grunting at the somewhat rough landing, Jul's eyes gleamed in the dark as he have the familiar surroundings and smells of the cistern of the Ragged Flagon, home of possibly the last chapter of the Thieves' Guild.
Walking out to the light, a few members dressed in guild uniforms gasped at the sight of him. "S'Jul-Dar!" A Nord gulped. "You're alive!?" Another said in shocked and a Bosmer followed, "Impossible." Growling, Jul approached the elf, "I am a survivor, like all of you, and by Gods look horrid for it." Then he punched the thief in the jaw hard, knocking him off his feet, "And that is for leaving me to rot!"
"Hey, Jul!" The shorter Nord said with a stammer, "You know how things are." Jul glared at the Nord, "Vipir, you of all people, know it doesn't take just a broke lock to get me caught!"
"What is going on here!?" A brash voice commanded and everyone's eyes were on the stern-faced Breton, dressed in the black garbs of a senior thief; Mercer Frey. When his eyes fell on Jul like a hawk, Mercer frowned in unadulterated disapproval, "So, our failure finally escaped Solitude. Give me a reason not to gut you now for failing the deal?"
Jul narrrowed a eye for a moment at the Guildmaster before bowing his head respectfully, "I will gladly redeem myself in the eyes of the Guild and Baad Dar himself." He pledged humbly. Mercer continued to stare the Khajiit down before crossing his arms and breathing through his nose, "Very well, cat, but only because you've gotten us much gold in the past."
"Thank you, sir." Jul said. "Yea, yea. Just get cleaned up and get ready to do some work in the morning." Mercer replied grumbly before walking off. Waiting until the master thief's back was turned, Jul snarled at the elf again before limping abit to the first Nord he saw, "Hey Rune...got any health potions on ya?"
There was slight tension before Rune nodded and pulled a small bottle from his pouch, handing it to Jul. "Glad to have you back, things have been bad since you was gone." Groaning in impatience and displeasure, "I bet..." Then he took a few gulps of the potion and felt the magical qualities of it starting to work. "Thanks."
"Anytime." Rune said before going over to the punched elf and helping him up. Jul scoffed before walking over to his bed and collapsed immediately, snoring in deep sleep.
Untold hours later, Jul barely felt himself being shaken and a voice urged him to wake. He didn't know, nor care, how long it took him to be completely aware but he finally opened his eyes to see the face of a somewhat annoyed but arguably beautiful woman with pale skin and long raven hair tied in a ponytail.
Someone he didn't know and he've been in this sewer since he was of age. "Get up, the Guildmaster want you up, clean, and dressed for your assignment." She said shrewdly. "And you are?" Jul asked neutrally.
"Ladia." She answered, "And if you continue dilly-dallying, Mercer will have both of our heads."
Groaning at the pestering, Jul got up at last with lifted hands in surrender, "Fine fine." Shaking his wary head and picked up a nearby bottle of briar ale, he drank it down, and sighed in relief. "Good to be home..." He mused before looking at the woman, she looked almost Imperial but a certain look about her spoke of Nordic blood as well. She fit in the guild wear quite well too.
Noticing, she rolled her blue eyes, and walked off, "Hurry up, he won't wait forever!" Watching her intently, Jul chuckled before getting up completely and walked to the bathes in the Ratway. Looking around cautiously as he went to his usual spot, he stripped himself of his clothes, and examined his poor abused body.
He was badly scarred around his torso and near his hips, by the Gods he wished he had a chance to kill that furless worm. His feline urges got him to start scrubbing his fur with almost obsessive energy despite the uncomfortable aches. Wash, rinse, repeat. Wash, rinse, repeat. All while grumbling and cursing in his native tongue. While Jul was born in Skyrim and into the thief game, his father didn't let him go without knowledge of his homeland.
When Jul checked every inch of himself, he was back to most of his former beauty; with some parts of his flesh showing from his scars and he mentally promised himself to buy some stuff for his teeth, hopefully they have some mints up at the surface.
Feeling his muscles, he sighed at his now lithe appearance. So much work to do...Then he waved his tail and put on his torn pants for cover before walking back to the cistern to claim his second pair of uniform that he got in case he ever lost his first.
With no one paying any real attention, Jul hid behind the corner, and switched pants. Happy of being in the leather again, he strapped on his toeless boots, followed by his tunic, and leather jacket. Making sure everything fits, the Khajiit noticed the slight space thanks to his loss of weight, and secured the shoulder pauldron and pocketed bandolier to help keep himself presentable. Hood down and vambraces secure, he walked out and towards Mercer's decorated desk, where Mercer himself was leaning against it with his eyes beamed at Jul, while Ladia and Mercer's respectable second-in-command, Brynjolf, stood infront of him.
"Took you long enough." Mercer growled. "Sorry, sir. Got to be respectable infront of the good ol' Guildmaster." Jul said with a slight joke to it. Twitching the corner of his mouth, Mercer stood straight up and crossed his arms. "I guess...anyway, I am giving you a redeeming assignment to start your payback to the Black-briars."
"I am eager to start, sir." Jul replied, putting his paws behind his back. "You will accompanying our new recruit to help capture the cargo of a passing convey. It contains jewelry and spices that will profitable to the guild and some pocket change." Mercer said. "I will be nice and warn you both that it is protected by a group of well-paid mercs. You both know the rules, don't kill them unless necessary. If you manage to do that, I might just pay you both a little extra."
"Yes, Guildmaster." The two said at nearly the same talk. "Alright, that'll be all." Mercer said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Ladia turned and walked away, while Jul casually looked at the statue of a bee sitting on a honeycomb sat on the shelf behind Mercer, Looks like something from Goldenglow, might ask about it later.
Quickly turning, Jul followed behind the woman, and started to plan on the heist. Anxious to start his record of thievery again and regain his respect from his peer...and himself.
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