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8:15pm, Last Seed 21
Dibella's House of Common Pleasures
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"It's not the type of job you expect here." Everard clarified to Finch. He gestured to the stage, where exotic dancers performed lewd routines. "Let's speak somewhere private, and trust me, it's not what you think it is."

The two men entered the Everard's premium suite, and as expected, it had been cleaned up after his session with S'toth.

"Close the door." Everard instructed. He sat on a leather sofa, and reaching to the table in front, he uncorked a bottle of wine and set down two glasses. "Take a seat when you're done."

"Summerset Reserve, 176 vintage, Shimmerene export." Everard read off the wine label. He poured himself a glass first, and only when he's satisfied after two drags did he fill Finch's glass. "You don't even know what this is, don't you? Normal people like us can't even afford to look at it."

"I'll jump straight to business." Everard stated plainly. "I heard people call you 'Finch', and you tend to get into places you shouldn't be in."

"I'm Everard, leader of the Blackhounds, and depending on who you ask, the future king of Wayrest or an opportunistic bastard." The Breton man finished his glass. He took the wine bottle and began drinking directly from it. "People say a lot of stuff about me and most of them don't even believe their own words. So don't bother telling anyone about our meeting here; people will laugh you off at best, or worse, may kill you for spreading treasonous rumors."

"Here's where you come in." Everard kicked his feet up on the table. "I had a very valuable sword, one made of gold. Some say it's daedric, but I all I care is that it's mine. However, my spymaster, Mathieu the Whisper, decided to steal it from me! That conniving scum! Fuck!"

Everard threw his wine glass into the wall behind Finch. It shattered.

"Excuse me; I get too attached to things." Everard straightened his jacket collar. He took from big gulp from the wine bottle, and settled back to his previous position as if nothing had happened. "But my loss is your gain, right? We're bloody opportunists, you and I. I have a lot of gold for you, if you can return my sword to me."

"Now, here's what you need to do." Everard went to a book shelf and took out a map of Wayrest. "Mathieu prays every evening at the temple, here, just before they close down. It's in the southern occupation zone. They know me and won't let me through, but Mathieu, he's the religious type and on good terms with the priests, so they let him go."

"You'll catch him in the temple around sunset. Take my sword back, and preferably killing Mathieu in the process." Everard stared at Finch for a second, then he laughed. "Don't even think about doing it alone. Mathieu is one of the best nightblades in High Rock, and the sword will further strengthen him. Remember that group of people ahead of you? They're mercenaries. Sub-contract them."

"On more thing, wait here, and drink the rest if you want." Mathieu pushed the half-drank wine bottle to Finch, and went to a locked chest. He returned with a fabric covered shield. Pulling the cover off, the shield underneath was made of cold gray scales.

"Real dragon hide, only wielded by the elites of Jehanna." Everard explained. "A frost dragon flew there from Skyrim, so they killed it and made equipment from its remains. The previous owner, invincible in combat, died from food poisoning. Now you, a nobody, gets to inherit it."

"This is your down payment. Of course, you can sell it for a pretty sum on the black market. Alternately, you or one of your allies can use it against Mathieu. I recommend giving it to someome with actual upper body strength."

"I want my sword back the morning after tomorrow." Everard declared. He took out his journal and ripped off several pages. "Don't bother asking questions. Everything you need to know is here, including a sketch of that spineless traitor Mathieu. I am much better with written words than spoken ones. Do burn it when you're done."

"Now, get to work, and get out of my room." Everard pointed to the door.
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