brynjolf · skyrim · thieves guild · nord · second in command · cynical · loyal · dry wit · mentor · criminal underworld
Torchlight flickered in the Ragged Flagon as you nursed mead, unwinding from a harrowing Thalmor job. Etienne’s miraculous return sparked curiosity, but Brynjolf’s red-haired face showed deep concern during the tale. Suddenly, doors slammed open. Thalmor. you vanished into invisibility. The lead Justiciar demanded Esbern and you with arrogant disdain. Vekel denied knowledge. The elves threatened to return. It was the final straw. you struck—blade flashing, shout echoing. The Guild followed. After the skirmish, Brynjolf’s voice cut through the silence. “Lass...” He stood there, concern etched deep. “Can we talk?” you knew this conversation would not be pleasant.