Brynjolf let him talk, feeling the relief flow through him. They'd got the Eyes cashed in. The Blades would have coin to spare, as would all three Nightingales, more than enough to start rebuilding the Guild while still leaving them in pocket. More to the point, Elisif was not in fact a Forsworn prisoner – in fact from the sounds of it, she'd managed to impress the Forsworn leader into lending support. Fucking Madanach had joined her cause! The notoriously dangerous warlord whose rebel fighters were still alive and kicking despite twenty five years since the Markarth Incident and their overthrow by the Stormcloaks, and whose organisation had effectively locked the Guild out of the Reach for decades – one Hold only had room for so much corruption and crime, and the Forsworn had monopolised it. They still did from the sounds of it, but possibly not at the Guild's expense, not for much longer.
“So Karliah,” Sapphire was asking. “Exactly how did you get in with the Forsworn anyway? They're not exactly open and trusting.”
“Twenty five years ago, they were the government here,” Karliah said softly. “Everyone in the Guild expected me to go east to Morrowind, where a Dunmer might blend in. So I went west instead, to Markarth. No one even considered I'd go there. Madanach was King in truth, and he hated thieves. He was quite the idealist, for a ruthless warlord anyway. There's a reason he held out for two years – he was well-organised, competent, and really really good at being king. By the end of year one, most of the Reach had got used to the Forsworn running the show. When I showed up, he was confident, even cheerful, and quite receptive to the deal I made him. Inside information on the Guild's operations in return for protection from Mercer. He had me doing spy work for him, we were quite the team. It was an inspired idea. Then the Markarth Incident happened. During the invasion, I saved the life of someone close to Madanach, got them out of the city and to one of Madanach's camps. He never forgot. One letter of introduction to his sister at Hag's End later, and I was safe for years. I gave them a cut of everything I heisted elsewhere, acquired several valuable artefacts for Matriarch Keirine, called the place home. Keirine runs a training coven with lots of women who aren't Reachwomen coming and going, no one raised too many eyebrows at a Dunmer being there. That's how Mercer never found me. Forsworn paranoia kept me safe and I'll never forget it.”
“You saved the life of one of Madanach's blood, we won't forget that either,” Nepos said, his voice kind and fatherly as he secured the Eyes. “Now why don't you take this letter of credit for Delphine and in the morning come back and I'll... oh what now?” Uaile was knocking at the door again, calling out to Nepos, sounding worried.
“Nepos? Sir? You've got more visitors. Sir, it's important, they won't wait.”
“Sithis' sake,” Nepos muttered, before raising his voice. “Uaile, it is gone eleven o'clock, I am hardly a young man any more. Tell them to come back at a civilised hour.”
“I did, but... Sir, it's the General and Legate!” Uaile cried.
“Phynaster's golden balls,” Nepos whispered, the colour draining from his face as he turned to three similarly ashen thieves. “Right, get your things and hide. Ladies, under my bed, now. Brynjolf... no, there's no hope for it, three of you and your things will not stay hidden. Brynjolf, my dear, get in my bedroom, take your clothes off and get in the bed.”
“You what?” Brynjolf sputtered. That was not in the plan, not now, not ever. “Look, I'm all for pretending one of us is your night's entertainment but can't one of the lasses...?”
“No,” Nepos snapped. “Nearly fifty years of bedding men, and now I decide to start keeping company with the fairer sex? Do you actually want everyone in Markarth gossiping? Whereas finding a Nord man between my sheets, no one will even care. Don't worry, your virtue is safe, I'm done training the untouched up at my time of life.”
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timeasmymeasure
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 21.6
Date: 2014-01-18 09:18 pm (UTC)“So Karliah,” Sapphire was asking. “Exactly how did you get in with the Forsworn anyway? They're not exactly open and trusting.”
“Twenty five years ago, they were the government here,” Karliah said softly. “Everyone in the Guild expected me to go east to Morrowind, where a Dunmer might blend in. So I went west instead, to Markarth. No one even considered I'd go there. Madanach was King in truth, and he hated thieves. He was quite the idealist, for a ruthless warlord anyway. There's a reason he held out for two years – he was well-organised, competent, and really really good at being king. By the end of year one, most of the Reach had got used to the Forsworn running the show. When I showed up, he was confident, even cheerful, and quite receptive to the deal I made him. Inside information on the Guild's operations in return for protection from Mercer. He had me doing spy work for him, we were quite the team. It was an inspired idea. Then the Markarth Incident happened. During the invasion, I saved the life of someone close to Madanach, got them out of the city and to one of Madanach's camps. He never forgot. One letter of introduction to his sister at Hag's End later, and I was safe for years. I gave them a cut of everything I heisted elsewhere, acquired several valuable artefacts for Matriarch Keirine, called the place home. Keirine runs a training coven with lots of women who aren't Reachwomen coming and going, no one raised too many eyebrows at a Dunmer being there. That's how Mercer never found me. Forsworn paranoia kept me safe and I'll never forget it.”
“You saved the life of one of Madanach's blood, we won't forget that either,” Nepos said, his voice kind and fatherly as he secured the Eyes. “Now why don't you take this letter of credit for Delphine and in the morning come back and I'll... oh what now?” Uaile was knocking at the door again, calling out to Nepos, sounding worried.
“Nepos? Sir? You've got more visitors. Sir, it's important, they won't wait.”
“Sithis' sake,” Nepos muttered, before raising his voice. “Uaile, it is gone eleven o'clock, I am hardly a young man any more. Tell them to come back at a civilised hour.”
“I did, but... Sir, it's the General and Legate!” Uaile cried.
“Phynaster's golden balls,” Nepos whispered, the colour draining from his face as he turned to three similarly ashen thieves. “Right, get your things and hide. Ladies, under my bed, now. Brynjolf... no, there's no hope for it, three of you and your things will not stay hidden. Brynjolf, my dear, get in my bedroom, take your clothes off and get in the bed.”
“You what?” Brynjolf sputtered. That was not in the plan, not now, not ever. “Look, I'm all for pretending one of us is your night's entertainment but can't one of the lasses...?”
“No,” Nepos snapped. “Nearly fifty years of bedding men, and now I decide to start keeping company with the fairer sex? Do you actually want everyone in Markarth gossiping? Whereas finding a Nord man between my sheets, no one will even care. Don't worry, your virtue is safe, I'm done training the untouched up at my time of life.”