The Dark Path: Story of a Dunmer – Part 11

• Posted by ricardo maia April 11, 2012 - 776 views

       I know all these places with my eyes closed – I had to learn how to move through them blindfolded, while Brynjolf instructed me in the secrets to walk unseen and in complete darkness. Now I can identify every district in this city, every alley, every corner, only by their smells and their sounds. Every lesson had to be well learned, and learned quickly, because his quizzes were just like yours, mom, sharp, unexpected and full with pain and shame. Eventually, sneaking and seeing with my ears and nose became natural to me and I got very good at this, dunmer senses being so tuned – another proof of our superiority over the lesser races. They say khajits have keener noses but that can’t be true, otherwise how could they endure their own body odor? Really, have you ever tried to stand close to a khajit just after a rainy day? – I promise you won’t stand very long, unless you’re luck enough to be afflicted with anosmia, because that wet fur smells exactly like a troll’s armpit.

       I close my eyes for a moment - I smell the sickening scent of rotten dried fish and spoiled vegetables and, a little farther, a mix of piss and shit – I realize I’m at channel district, near the Ratway. I’ll have to go through the sewers this time, because there is movement at the graveyard – they’re burying Grelod, the kind – it seems like one of those good-for-nothing kids has finally killed her. I feel the hint of a grudge against her, for making me take this fetid sewer path to the Ragged Flagon, instead of the more fragrant entrance through the mausoleum, surrounded by sweet perfume of nightshades – it was subtle and cruel, just like one of her famous punishments - but at the same time I’m also a little sad and I remember my short time in the orphanage.

       She wasn’t really very kind of course, kindness being a waste of time and she being a very practical woman, but she was fair, and that meant a lot when every nord kid in that place seemed to have chosen me as the scapegoat to blame for the miserable turn their lives had taken. I was there just for a few months and she treated exactly me like every other boy – sternly, harshly and contemptuously – but she also had always a word of incentive to everyone: “Nobody needs you, nobody wants you”, she said, hoping to tinker with those pitiful bastards’ pride, but they had no pride left, mom. She really worked hard to bring out the best in those kids - only they had nothing good inside them to be brought out, so they hated her guts and eventually killed her - that’s the reward for kindness in this country. But inside me, she saw the talent to accomplish something better than just sweeping the floor and stirring the pans, so she sold me to Brynjolf as an apprentice.

       And that was how I began my life as a petty thief. I walked this city’s alleys, pick-pocketing unsuspecting visitors and running little errands for the guild, always moving like a rat, looking for the next shadows’ protection and keeping close to the walls. And all of this under the complacent watch of the corrupt bought off guards – that was the good old times for the guild. This city was mine then, though looking back, owning this swamp infected with every kind of leeches and mosquitoes, as well as others two-legged blood-suckers was hardly a thing to be proud of. But life was not so bad - Brynjolf took me under his wing and in three years he had made of me an accomplished thief, skilled enough to unlock any safe and invisible in the dark to any but the most experienced eyes. He has taught me everything I know about sneaking and picking locks, and now he had called for my help in one of his business, so I was there.

       I received his message in Whiterun – it said he had a job he thought only I could do, and also he had some word about Windhelm I could find useful. I know he is always serious about his work and the guild has excellent intelligence on Windhelm, so I was immediately interested in the information he had for me. And the business thing would not be so bad either – in fact, I urgently needed some cash. Bribing those damn imperial officers in Whiterun to stay off my business wasn’t cheap, and if I ever intended to contact the Empire in the future, I would have to bribe up to the higher level officers and, maybe even General Tullius himself, if that was the price to gain his acceptance and cooperation against our enemy. So I was back at Riften, and walking again through those filthy sewers, dodging the piles of rat shit and trying not to step over the rivulets of waste-water. Well, that was a part of my life I didn’t miss at all, but I owed something to the guild and I always pay my debts, as my few friends already know, and as my many enemies will eventually find out.