Rifting

Michael is escorted towards Mistveil Keep, but just as he thinks he's going to get an audience with the Jail, they turn right and head directly to the prison. A minute later, he's pulled into a blank room with a single chair and table in the middle...

"Sit there, we'll see you in a minute, for now, stay quiet." one of the guards say as they leave, unbeknownst to Michael, 'accidentally' dropping the cell key. With the guards going on break, three men walk into the prison and use the key on the door.

They walk inside, the two Nords and one Breton sending a glare at Michael as they surround him, each having an iron mace on their hips. "So, this is the rat who's been causing trouble? Hmph, you look more like the boy who shines my shoes." one Nord remarks.

Michael crooks a brow, "What's this supposed to be? I don't know you, or even why you're here."

The other Nord shrugs, "That depends on you, and what happens here. Personally, I'd rather just dump your body in the Ratway."

The Breton shakes his head, and leans forward over the desk, "My men tell me you ambushed them, but, I know that's bullshit. No one would bother ambushing those retards, all they'd get from it is half a bottle of scooma and some pocket lint. No, I'm here to have you work for me... Someone who can take out Ace and his posse alone is a good find." he says, confusing the other two... Looks like they didn't know of his intention in the first place.

Michael just snorts and shakes his head, seems like he was worried for no reason. He'd thought that those guys from Falkreath had sent the Guild after him. "You guy looks like the most degenerate pieces of shit I've ever seen. In fact, I think I could sum each of you up with a few words..." he points at the rightmost Nord with a shit-eating grin. "My wife's son." he says, causing the other two to break into chuckles, the butt of the joke only understanding it a moment later.

He points at the next Nord, "My wife's boyfriend." he continues, causing the chuckling man to stop, sending a glare Michael's way.

Lastly, he points at the Breton. "You better shut your trap before you get hurt, kid." the man growls but Michael ignores it.

"My wife is my sister." he says, causing the three men to lunge at Michael. Finally sick of his shit. Michael leans back in his seat and kicks the table in front of him knocking back the Breton, all while pulling a dagger he'd managed to hide up his sleeve. He uses it to deflect the mace heading for his shoulder.

With one on the floor and one stumbling against the wall, the last attempts to grab Michael in a headlock, but loses him completely as Michael casts "Tricks of the Trade.", causing him to disappear with a puff of purple smoke.

The next moment one of the confused men cry out in alarm as a long cut appears on his back, blood spurting from it and alarming the other two. This was supposed to be a simple beatdown and intimidating job, not getting trapped in a cell with magic shit!

Cuts continue to accumulate on the men, every time they attempt to flee the cell another comes and hits them where it hurts. Their tendons, ligaments, even non-vital areas... Soon enough, the men are crippled and groaning on the floor, unable to do anything against Michael's spell.

Michael appears back in the cell, the dagger in his hand not bloody at all, as if it hadn't just been used to mutilate these men. They hadn't just been physically injured however, his Mana Break ability from Anti-Mage worked alongside the spell, leaving the men complete void of Magicka. "You guy's shoulda just left me alone." he states, slitting their throats so they couldn't tattle on him.

From what he could tell, his arrest by the guards had been unofficial and left unrecorded so that these three could deal with him as they pleased. The only people who'd know he was responsible for these deaths would be Brynjolf and the Guild... Which was still pretty bad as they were in Maven's pocket...

"Hmph, looks like I'll be cleaning up sooner than I thought. Maybe Riki jinxed me?" he mutters, cleaning his knife off on the corpse's clothes before Blinking out of the cell and turning invisible, heading back to Medresi's place. The Guild knew he and his friends would be there, so it'd be best that they left the city immediately.

Medresi might be in a spot of trouble, but he didn't really care about her if he were honest...

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Seven minutes later Michael arrives back at Medresi's place, breathing a sigh of relief at the fact the horses and cart were still here. He kicks the doors open and looks at his companions who were all doing their own thing, "Alright! We're leaving! Get your shit!" he announces. His group just nod and do as he says while Medresi sputters in confusion.

"Wait, why!?"

"Because I've just pissed off the Thieves Guild and killed three people." he deadpans, causing the woman to pause in shock.

"YOU DID WHAT!?" she immediately screams after taking a moment to process his words.

"Are you deaf?" he asks while picking his ear in irritation. "I killed some guys, the Thief Guild is pissed, that's it." he says before exiting and glancing at Charlotte who was sitting in the coachman's seat, "You lot head back to the camp outside the crypt. Tiff, I'll need you to open a portal where I'm standing tomorrow morning. Alright?"

She nods unsurely. "Are you sure? We can stay here with you, I-I'm not as weak as I used to be." she determines.

Michael smiles and grips her shoulder, "I know, but you can't help with the things I need to do. Just be ready to use the portal so I can flee without fighting through the entire city, alright?"

"O-okay..."

"Good." he gives her a kiss on the forehead, causing the girl to blush furiously, "For luck, alright?"