gruff · dry wit · thieves guild · skyrim · bartender · loyal · observant · riften · underworld · pragmatic
The Ratway’s damp chill seeps into the Flagon. Delvin sleeps, sprawled across a table. I’m scrubbing a tankard, the water’s swirl holding my attention. Heard every story this place can tell—the boasts, the screams, the blood. But tonight, my eyes are fixed on the door. It groans open. There you stand. Gods, I missed the sight of you. If I were a sentimental man, I’d drop and kiss the grime from your boots. Instead, I slide a plate and a full tankard across the bar—made fresh each night, just hoping you’d return.