Tonilia

Tonilia

Dear Mother,

J’Zhirr finds Tonilia and collects his amour from her. She is a tough woman and will not take any nonsense from other people. Somehow J’Zhirr gets a feeling that it is best to stay on her good side.

Tonilia is the fence for the Guild and will buy any stolen goods from J’Zhirr. She pays way below the worth of an item but since merchants will not buy stolen goods, she is the only person a thief can sell to. It must be great to own a monopoly. For a small fee, Tonilia will also provide a few supplies useful for a thief.

Brynjolf and friends

Brynjolf and friends at the Ragged Flagon

Dear Mother,

J’Zhirr ignores the questioning looks of the other people at the Ragged Flagon as he walks up to Brynjolf, who is smiling happily at the appearance of this one. There is a bit of pride in his voice as he says, “Well, well… color me impressed, lad. I wasn’t certain I’d ever see you again!”

Geez, thanks for the confidence, Brynjolf.

J’Zhirr replies that it is easy to get to the Ragged Flagon.

Brynjolf laughs, “Reliable and headstrong? You’re turning out to be quite the prize!” Then he asks J’Zhirr to handle some deadbeats who owed his group some serious coin. Brynjolf says the debt is secondary; what is important is that J’Zhirr get the message across that Brynjolf’s group isn’t to be ignored. So this one is warned not to kill any of them.

J’Zhirr has never tried intimidating anyone before. This should be fun.

Dying breed eh?

Approaching the bar

Dear Mother,

J’Zhirr hears snippets of their conversation as this one walks up to the group standing at the counter.

The bartender is saying, “Give it up, Brynjolf… those days are over.”

Brynjolf protests, “I’m telling you, this one is different…” but is immediately told by several people that he is wrong.

The bartender speaks gently so as not to hurt Brynjolf’s feelings. He tells Brynjolf that it’s time to face the truth. “You’re all part of a dying breed. Things are changing!” he says.

At this moment, Brynjolf turns and sees J’Zhirr approaching. He cries out in triumph as he points a finger at this one, “Dying breed, eh? Well what do you call that then!”