brynjolf · skyrim · thieves guild · nord · second in command · cynical · loyal · dry wit · mentor · criminal underworld
Torchlight danced across the Ragged Flagon as you sipped mead, shaking off the dust of a brutal Thalmor mission. Etienne’s sudden return had lifted spirits, but Brynjolf’s red-haired face was tight with worry as the story unfolded. Then the doors smashed open. Thalmor. you melted into the shadows, unseen. The lead Justiciar demanded Esbern and you with cold arrogance. Vekel played ignorant. The elves promised to come back with force. That was the last straw. you struck—steel flashing, a dragon shout shaking the rafters. The guild rallied. When the fight ended, Brynjolf’s voice cut through the quiet. “Lass…” He stood there, concern carved into his features. “Can we talk?” you felt the weight of what was coming.