And the day had started off so well. Delphine tried to curl her body into a ball, but it didnt save her from another kick to her ribs. She tried to suck in air but her lungs were not responsive save for a burning agony that served as their declaration that they disapproved of being kicked with heavy leather boots. Another kick caught her across the temple and the pain was indescribable. She rolled onto her back only to have the booted foot stomp down on her sternum and she found that she could describe the previous pain as ‘not as bad as the stomp on my sternum’. This now found linguistic clarity did not comfort her.

“You gettin’ off light!” Ragan Three Fingers snarled. Delphine respectfully disagreed as she lay on the floor of the alley, wheezing for breath and trying to draw the first breath in what was now an alarmingly long time. She said something witty like ‘oooowwww’ and promptly vomited, forcing Ragan to step back in disgust.

“You took our money Delapore, and if I don’t get the interest by the end of the week it wont be just us girls right?” Ragan told her in a town that would be reasonable coming from someone who hadn’t just broken two of your ribs.

“You’ll get it, pinky swear,” Delphine replied, and was rewarded for this witisim by another kick to the head and a swirling plunge into blackness. An indeterminate but short, judging by the shadows on the alley wall, time later she came too. Her head and ribs immediately screamed that it had been better when she had been unconscious, but to hell with them. Sobbing and drooling with pain she forced herself up into a sitting position. With some effort she was able to draw shallow breaths. Talking was too much effort, that effort being devoted to the unglamorous but completely necessary task of breathing but she mouthed the words of the incantation. A cool sensation flowed over her as the restorative energies went to work. She vomited again as her ribs reset, helpfully aiming the ejecta away from herself to preserve her dignity. It took a few minutes but eventually she was able to stand and stagger over to a horse trough. She thrust her head into it purging her mouth of the taste of vomit and steadying herself. Withdrawing her dripping head she looked down at her reflection. The wavering form of a pretty brown haired Breton stared back at her, with a ‘don’t look at me you got yourself into this’ type of expression which fairly typified how things were going. Delphine touched her satchel and found she hadn’t been robbed, her sword and bow were still across her back too. You had to give it to the Thieves Guild, they might have you beaten to a pulp, but at least they weren’t going to rob you while they were at it.


“Daedra and Divines,” she muttered, and pulled her clothing into some semblance of order. She was starting to think the Guild really meant it this time.


At least one Guild really meant it. Delphine thought when, an hour later she stood in an office in the Mages Guild. Bristar Marlowe sat behind a desk peering at a scroll through a pair of improbably large oculars. His office, like most rooms in the Guild here in Koegira was ringed with shelves, on which were piled books, scrolls, manuscripts, and other arcane paraphernalia. Private offices like this were particularly treasure troves. Since the Necromantic Schism had erupted, senior mages had taken to hoarding vast swathes of the library to prevent disaffected mages from simply taking their toys and going home. That is if they could escape the jeers and curses of the crowds that seemed to constantly lurk outside the Guild these days. Suspicion and fear of the Guild had not ended with the Oblivion Crisis. Worse still the hemorrhage of members, and more importantly of membership dues, forced the Guild to ever more extortionate measures. To whit…

“You are a talented student Delphine, particularly in alchemy, but your lack of commitment to the guild troubles me. Three years and you are still only an associate member?” he said, or at least his lips said, what he really meant was somewhat more like : where is my bribe, I must have my bribe!


“I’m sorry Master, since my family's lands were destroyed when the gates opened I’m afraid my means are limited…” 

Marlow silenced her with a wave of his hand, dropping the scroll onto the desk with disdain.

“Miss Delapore, the associate membership is meant for new students who dabble, you have dabbled sufficiently. I am afraid if you do not move up to full membership in the next month or so I shall have to consider suspending your membership in this body. Do I make myself clear?” his voice asked. ‘Get me my money or else’ his eyes underscored.


“Two months,” Delphine agreed, immediately seizing the best case scenario before he could get more specific. Marlow opened his mouth to correct her but thought the better of it.

“I have an important paper on the Ethics of Necromancy to complete,” he informed her. Delphine took her cue and ducked out of the room. Neatly slipping one of the leather bound volumes beneath her cloak as she went. She hope it was something she could use, or at the very least something she could sell, between that and the potions she had brewing maybe she could square the Thieves Guild and Marlow. And maybe after that a handsome prince would ride in and make her Queen of Daggerfall and Junior Empress while he was at it, or perhaps a meteor would strike Koegira mysteriously destroying the entire Thieves Guild in a single blow. A girl could hope.