Skyrim #9: Thieves Guild; Poop.

As mentioned, we kind of got lost on our way to get a sword from a guy, which I think was our last quest for the fight club.

I had another objective marked, I’m not really sure what for, in the town of Riften waaaaay over the other side of the map. Super King gets there without delay, but this jerk-off at the front gate tries to shake us down for an entry fee.

Our response is something to the tune of “Uh, hi? I’m an anthropomorpic dinosaur man, and that person behind me is a warrior that I have subjugated by my very will alone [Ssssh, Lydia, sssh, just go with it, please, pleaaaaaaase?] and she is carrying four hundred pounds worth of dragon bones. SO LET US INTO YOUR DUMB CITY.”

Needless to say, he opens the gate.

Riften looks like a pretty great town, what with it being built on top of an outdoor sewer that leads to an indoor sewer. If stench and feces are what it takes to make a town great, then Riften is the greatest town there ever was!

Just ask this guy, who introduces himself by way of veiled threats:

He did not overhear our speech to the gate guard.

Following our objective marker, we find this quilted tunic-wearing D-bag who’s got an offer we just can’t resist.

In our contemporary setting, this would be like clicking a link in an unsolicited text message. Super King is self-aware, so he would never fall for that. But Super King is SO self-aware that he knows we’re in a video game and in video games there are basically never negative results for accepting offers from strange men. Unless you consider money and experience negative results!

We do not consider them to be that.

At first, we’re worried, because this job involves stealing from a fellow Argonian. And while, time and time again, we’ve proven we’re not above stealing from race-brothers and sisters, it still leaves a bad taste in our mouths.

Oh? What’s that? We’re going to steal the Argonian’s rings and then put them in some Elf’s pocket and then the Argonian gets his rings back? We’re like the Robin Hood of Argonians then, aren’t we?? Sign us up!

The best part about this quest is spending ten minutes hopping in place here, getting really frustrated trying to steal the jewelry out of the box and having no clue why they would make it so hard. Hoping in place attracts the guard’s attention, but it’s the only way we can gain enough height to have a (brief) window in which we can hammer on the E key to grab whatever trinkets are within reach!


Also Lydia thinks we are being really weird.

Soooooooooo… I hesitate to reveal that we finally figure out that the ring we’re supposed to steal is behind the guy’s stand and requires no hopping.

Don’t we feel silly?

Also we steal all the Argonian’s other rings and necklaces and we don’t give those ones back. What?? Don’t look at me like that!

We frame the SHIT out of that Elf. He’s going away for a long, long time and we didn’t even know who he was! Man, I feel like we should feel a little guilty about… what’s that Brynjolf?? A supply of free potions? Noble thanks for a job well done!

This place he wants us to go to “The Ragged Flagon” is somewhere down in the depths of Riften’s sub-sewer.


I’m sure the bar he’s sending us to is very hygienic.

Along the way we have to evade a few traps and kill a few NPCs, most of whom are named, which feels weird. Not because either of us are against murder, per se, it’s more like a guy named “Bandit” or “Thalamar Mage” isn’t likely to give you a quest to kill some sheep or brew a potion, but a guy like “Nathaniel Brandybuckwine” might. But if that’s the case WHY WERE YOU HANGING OUT IN A SEWER THROWING KNIVES AT ME, NATHANIEL? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT IF YOU HAD A QUEST TO GIVE ME?

Still, the (questionable, improbable, but certainly possible) loss of ~500 gold pieces for not delivering Nathaniel Brandybuckwine’s goat to his mother in Winter Run haunts us to this day.

Not really much of a surprise, these dudes are the Thieves Guild. Which is funny, because they make a big deal out of telling us that they are, indeed, the Thieves Guild but it’s like… dude, what other guild has me going around picking pockets of people I never met?

I am somewhat suspicious when their second mission doesn’t require me to steal 1000 gold worth of silverware and baskets before I can be officially inducted.

Instead, I’m giving the much more palatable task of breaking the prized possessions of local business owners until they cough up the dough. We’re on it, boss!

On the way out, we’re ambused by mages from that banquet we disrupted a couple episodes back. I’m not really sure how they found me all the way out here in Riften, where I did not tell anyone I was going, and also underground in the sub-subsewer’s bar. If I was them, I would’ve at least waited outside where the air is somewhat cleaner.

Oh, but we murder them all anyway. Them  and their summoned fire demons.

Super King has no compunctions about knocking over people’s pots and pans until they cough up the dough, but me, on the other hand, I can’t really condone this sort of behavior. I mean, look at this guy, he’s just a hard working… smith of some sort… or… a general store owner, I guess. I don’t know.

Hey, where’d you get that priceless Dwarven Urn anyway, buddy? You can afford objects d’art but you can’t pay your protection money??

Also, he comes off as kind of a tool, so we break his urn.

Then we threaten this Argonian barmaid.

We kind of feel bad about it, but since she’s engaged to this other Argonian, she’s kind of off the market and that’s Super King’s #1 primary motivator…

Lydia… Lydia just stands there. Judging us with her eyes. And also her horns.

I hate your stupid helmet horns, Lydia.

Another job well done, Brynjoffafallf invites us to meet him in the SECRET MYSTERY CHAMBER.

Where they want me to do yet more stupid grunt work.

You wanna know what the job is? Because it’s pretty great! They’re sending me to… burn some dude’s beehives down.


Who cares about this shit!

We begin to think we’ve joined some shitty mafia and not a real thieves guild, because, uh, the thieves guilds I’ve been associated in the past were more about magical hoods that concealed your identity and stealing priceless artifacts of ultimate power from groups of blind monks.

But no, no. Don’t mind me. It’s cool. I’ll do the beehive thing. I mean, I’m here anyway, and it’s not like we were doing anything since this entire towns night life takes place on a platform that floats in the middle of a deposit of human excrement.

Computer graphics have no advanced to that point yet, so it’s easier just to model the human excrement as just a bunch of water, but I am serious. Guys, there are not a lot of underground waterways in this period that exist for any other purpose other than shuffling around poo. You are the thieves guild of poo.


Oh wait, that was me talking about the poo. Right. Sorry. Anyway, who’s Vex?

Why, hello.