Figgin barely got both feet on the ground when the dragon attacked the city of Riften. This dragon was different from the one in Helgen and Whiterun. This one breathed burst of frost instead of fire. Figgin, being a Dunmer, was not affected by fire, but frost that was a different story. Figgin would keep his distance and fired his bow repeatedly into the dragon's underbelly careful to avoid entering the line of sight of the dragon. Once again the beast would succumb to the plethora of arrows and once again the dragon's soul would be absorbed by Figgin. The pain was just as unbearable as what he had experienced in Whiterun. The pain only dulled by the awesome feeling of power that consumed him afterwards.
Figgin turned and tried to enter the city, when he was stopped by one of the guards who in turn tried to force a "tax" for entering Riften upon Figgin. Figgin laughed at the guard and threatened to expose his little shakedown if passage was not granted. The guard's demeanor quickly changed as he attempted to hush Figgin and hurried him through the city gates. Figgin walked into Riften with a wry smile and instantly fell in love with the city and it's ambiance.
Riften was a dock city with not much to offer in terms of cleanliness. It was riddle with homeless people and vagabonds. Many people roamed the streets, even at this late hour. This meant one of two things, thieves or skooma dealers. Figgin knew he could unload the 6 vials of skooma here once he found the right person to deal with. He was not even 10 feet inside the city gate when a big burly Nord tough guy approached him and started his "I'm the Big Bad Ass Around Here " routine. Figgin did not back down from the man name Maul, nice name, fitting for a man closer to an ogre than human. He told Figgin of the Black Briars and how they ran Riften and had the backing of the Thieves Guild. "What? Did he just say what I think he said? " Figgin posed the question to himself as if he were watching from a third person view. Could this be a two for one shot here? Find the Thieves Guild and the Brotherhood in the same city. This could not have been scripted any better, Figgin thought. He had to play it cool though, can't be too anxious, let them come to you he said, again to his third person self.
Figgin dismissed Maul and moved on to the other reason he had come to Riften. He found the orphanage in the back Southeast corner of the city. Figures, the door was unlocked. Nobody cares for the orphaned, at least nobody cared for him. The place was nice though inside and felt very warm and inviting. Figgin could not help but feel a little jealousy coarse through his veins, beats the sewers of Cyrodiil. He began to think of the boy he met in Windhelm and started to think he was just a spoiled brat that didn't realize what he had or worse what he could be living in. He would surely turn around if not for this being his only lead to the brotherhood he had. Just then, he heard the monster the boy spoke of. Grelod was chastising the boys and girls in a way that made Figgin's blood boil. Something about cleaning up and then the kicker,
"No more talk of adoptions. Nobody wants you and nobody is coming for you." Shrieked Grelod.
The look on those kids faces was a feeling only Figgin could relate to. Now, even if Aeretino had not hired him to kill this old miserable hag, he would have done it out of pure hate and disgust now. He waited and watched from the shadows as Grelod slipped into a small room off the main hall. She was alone. Figgin dosed his sword with some frostbite venom he extracted from the Frostbite Spider the other night. This slow poison would sure put an end to that haggard old women. He stepped inside the small room and shut the door. He stared at Grelod and it took everything he had not to lunge at her and strangle the life out of her. He wanted nothing more than to watch the life leave her miserable eyes, but he had little time here. Too many witnesses out side. He had to do quickly and quietly. Grelod saw him walk in and asked him coyly, what he was doing in here. Without a word and not any hint of movement, Figgin unsheathed his sword, dripping with the venom and plunged it into Grelod's throat so she could not scream. a quick twist and turn and Figgin withdrew the blade with almost the same swiftness. He was out the front door before Grelod's lifeless sack of a body hit the floor of the orphanage.
Nobody saw Figgin enter or leave the orphanage. He walked calmly to the back of the building and changed his clothes. It was too late to head back to Windhelm now. The deed was done. He could collect his payment and possibly continue the trail to the brotherhood in the morning. He needed to get some sleep. He made his way to the Bee and Barb for a room and something to eat.
The Bee and Barb was surprisingly clean and seemed friendlier than the atmosphere outside. Figgin rented a room from the bartender, an Argonian woman who he had to interrupt her from a conversation about her family she brought to a farm in Morrowind to go into hiding from Black Marsh. She showed Figgin to his room and said she would get some food prepared for him and to come down when he was ready.
As he reached the bottom step a very charismatic Nord named Brynolf approached him. Starting asking Figgin where he came to find all the coin he was carrying. Figgin warned him to mind his own business. The Nord laughed and said he wanted to hire FIggin for a job and he was not interested in robbing him. The two men sat and ate together and Brynolf laid old his elaborate plan that would commence in the morning. Since there was pay involved and Figgin had no real deadline to return to Windhelm, Grelod was not going anywhere anytime soon, he figured, why not plus, maybe this would get him closer to the guild as well. The finished eating and Figgin retired to his room for the night.
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