The Thief

By the time Brom arrived in Dawnstar he was already in a sour mood. Between the new memory that surfaced and his horse getting killed in the middle of the night, he was tired and angry. It had taken him an additional day to reach Dawnstar between losing his horse and the fresh snow that started falling.

As he neared the town, he saw that it was also very different than the game, which he guessed shouldn't surprise him anymore. Dawnstar is the capital of The Pale, and is known for its rich mines and harbor. Situated on the northern coast of Skyrim, it also serves as a garrison town. Dawnstar was small compared to Whiterun and had no walls to protect it, instead, it relied on the cold climate and harsh terrain to slow attackers.

Brom took all of this in as he entered by the main road. One of the guards came up to him to stop him.

"Halt, and who are you?" The guard said with his hand on his weapon.

Brom saw this movement and slowly looked the guard in the eyes,

"None of that will be needed, I am simply passing through on my way to Winterhold."

"Is that so, and why would anyone go there . . . unless you are trying to enter the college"

"Exactly"

"Well, your kind is not appreciated here, newcomer. I suggest you leave as soon as possible."

"Hmm, we will see." With that Brom brushed past the guard not giving him a second glance.

He continued towards the town's inn, ignoring the stares he got from those who saw his exchange with the guard. Coming up to the inn he looked up at the worn-down sign that read Windpeak Inn. Nodding to himself he entered the inn, looking forward to some warm food and a decent bed. As he entered and looked around, he saw the front desk so to speak and started towards it.

"Now hold up, what do we have here? You dress like a warrior yet you don't carry any weapons. Which means you must be some kind of battle mage." One of the local mercenaries stopped him saying this.

"Really, and you saw all that with your own two eyes?" Brom questioned with mockery.

"Yeah, I did. And your kind ain't welcomed here. You best be leaving"

"I think I'll stay, after all, I walked a long way to meet you."

What are you talking about? I never have seen you before!"

"Ah, but I have heard about you. Dawnstar's famous idiot"

With that insult Brom could see the fury rise in the man's eyes. And the contempt that spread across his face.

"Yeah? Well, why don't you hit me with one of your fancy spells? We all know you can't back that mouth with your fists anyways."

Seeing his obvious attempt at getting him to brawl him. Brom simply nodded, keeping a mask of calm

"Is that so? 1000 gold says I can beat you in a fist fight. No magic"

Collective cheers and gasps could be heard, the whole town was bored and they all resented magic users to a point. The merc saw the crowd react and knew he had no choice even if he wanted to back out. Smiling he reached his hand out to shake Broms

"deal!"

Deal"

With that Brom took off his cloak and it was then that the first doubt hit the merc's mind. For a mage this man was strong. Tossing the thought away they both walked to an open space and stood 10 paces apart.

"Alright, whenever you are ready," Brom said sounding bored.

"Fine, you better have my gold ready though!" and after saying this the merc charged swinging a wild hook hoping to end the fight easily. He wanted to show dominance in this inn, get some more respect.

Brom easily swayed backward then simply pushed the merc back. Not attacking with such an easy chance confused many. The merc simply got angrier and ran forward and started fighting like a classic brawler. Wild and hard hits aimed at the head and stomach. Brom just smiled and blocked each hit even doing light parries stunning the man, but never hitting back and never giving ground.

Infuriated the merc realized he was being played with. He stopped madly swinging and switched to a style closer to boxing. Using controlled fast punches to try and create an opening in Brom's defenses. Brom simply blocked these hits and occasionally pushed the man back with a palm strike or a clap to the ear. None of these attacks were very damaging, they were just meant to make the merc angrier.

By now the entire inn was silent, here was a supposed mage, that accepted a brawl against one of the local mercenaries. And not only was he winning, but he was also toying with the merc.

After 10min of this, Brom's whole mood seemed to switch. He went from looking bored and amused to looking like the man in front of him killed his family. He started counter-attacking every swing from the merc. Every time the merc tried punching, Brom with his superior speed and strength would strike the mercs arm mid punch. After doing this a few times the merc's arms were bruised and his left arm had nerve damage.

Then Brom switch from countering to completely aggressive. He walked towards the now sacred merc and started delivering fast precise punches. Whenever the merc tried blocking Brom would grab his wrist and deliver quick punches to the man's arms. Further damaging the merc's arms, this was made worse because the merc's arms were also his source of income. Much more of this and the man would not be able to use his own arms.

This was never a fight to Brom, this was simply an easy opportunity to show utter dominance and make sure no one here would try and mess with him. Now there was only one more thing Brom wanted to do, he wanted the merc to cry for mercy. With that in mind, Brom initiated kicks as well. Targeting the mercs knees to bruise them too.

Realizing that he was about to be rendered helpless for months the merc finally gave in. He put up his hands in surrender and shouted

"Okay Okay you win just stop please!"

Brom immediately stopped, all emotion gone from his face once again.

"Of course. Now, pay up" Brom demanded.

"I don't have the gold on me! I can get it though, just give me a week!"

Brom crossed his arms and looked at the once proud mercenary who was now quivering on the ground, his muscles trembling in pain.

"Fine," With that, Brom walked to the bar and finally ordered some food.

After his meal Brom got a room and went to it to go to sleep, entering and locking the door behind him. He undressed setting his armor and cloak down, then laying his supply sack down as well. He laid in bed in only his underclothes and pulled the cover up to his chin. Even with the blazing fire in the inn below he was still chilly. Ignoring the discomfort, Brom closed his eyes to sleep.

Brom's eyes snapped open, although he couldn't figure out why he had woken up. Not moving anything but his eyes he looked around the room. At first, he didn't see anything, then he saw a shadow move. After realizing what was going on he started hearing the other telltale signs of someone else in the room. A light even breathing, the occasional floorboard creaking, and he could now sense the presence getting closer. Still, Brom didn't move.

He knew his earlier actions might've made the mercenary desperate enough to hire an assassin. So Brom waited till it got closer. Then he pretended to roll over in his sleep so he would be facing the assassin. This sudden change caused the assassin to freeze. It didn't move a muscle for a solid minute, before seeming to decide it was safe to continue. Then as Brom waited for a weapon to appear, he was surprised when the assassin walked past him to his things.

A thief then. Brom waited till it was focused on his bag and then slowly started rising up. Moving a single muscle at a time, making no sound. He got his feet on the ground and when he put his weight on the floor it creaked giving away his actions.

The thief quickly turned wide-eyed to see a powerful looking man smiling at it. It tried bolting away but Brom grabbed it and hit it with a powerful hit to the temple knocking it out. Then he cast Flames on the candles in his room giving him a light to see properly by.

This was when Brom had his first realization about this thief, it was a girl. And it was not a normal girl, it looked like an Altimer. A high-elf girl out here in this mainly Nord territory where they despise magic user. Altimer's have a naturally high disposition towards magic, so why is she here, trying to steal from him. These thoughts all crossed his mind as he tied the girl into a chair and got dressed in his armor. Then sighing to himself and accepting that he would never get a full night's rest. Brom resigned to studying his spell tomes to see if he could grasp any more theories from them while he waited for the elven girl to wake up.