The two-day journey to Whiterun was more pleasant than what she left Riften in. The skies cleared up after the storm and remained sunny; there was barely a cloud ever in the sky. Her carriage driver wasn't as talkative as the one she and Brynjolf had, but he would fill in the quiet air with singing.

Whiterun was the trading heart of Skyrim because of its central location in the province. The city sat upon a hill, separated into three sections: The Plains District, consisting of the business establishments, the Wind District, primarily residential, and the Clouds District, entirely dominated by Dragonsreach, the Jarl's palace. The wooden Dragonsreach perched at the top, looking out over the open plains of its Hold.

The carriage pulled to a stop at Whiterun's stables and Macayla headed up to the gate, following the road winding up the hill, watched by guards positioned atop the separate gates. She had been to the city many times before to rob it, so she blended in with the merchants and farmers travelling to the trading epicenter to sell their goods to prevent recognition.

The thief got in fine but stayed with the others as they headed for the marketplace. She had seen The Bannered Mare's sign before near the marketplace but had never visited that certain inn; she had always stayed at The Drunken Huntsman—fewer customers and less noise.

As soon as the group arrived at the noisy marketplace and the large inn came into sight, Macayla broke off and headed for it. She entered and made a quick sweep, looking for a man by himself and intentionally set away from everyone else. No one fit the criteria, but an open doorway sat to her left; she walked over to check it out. It was a room with another fireplace with a cooking spit over it. At the end, near a staircase leading to the second floor, chairs and a table sat in the corner, with a man in one of the chairs.

Macayla walked toward him, not noticing her approaching. He was a sly-looking man with stringy black hair.

"Maven said you're expecting me."

Mallus Maccius looked up at her. "You're a lot prettier than what I was expecting; maybe it'll still work." His voice was a lot deeper than what she expected.

She wasn't sure whether to be flattered or insulted. "Being pretty might jeopardize me?"

"You might not seem adequate for the job we're to do. We have to hope your arm is firm. Honningbrew's owner, Sabjorn, is about to hold a tasting for the captain of the Whiterun guard and we're going to poison the mead."

"Do you have the poison?"

He smiled deviously. "No, no. That's the beauty of the whole plan: we're going to get Sabjorn to give it to us. The meadery has quite a pest problem and the entire city knows about it. Pest poison and mead don't mix well. Know what I mean?"

She did. "How do I fit in?"

"You're going to happen by and lend poor old Sabjorn a helping hand. He's going to give you the poison to use it on the pests, but you're also going to dump it into the brewing vat."

"Clever."

Mallus nodded. "Maven and I spent weeks planning this. All we need is someone like you to get in there and get it done. Now get going before Sabjorn grows a brain and hires someone else to do the dirty work."

She left Whiterun in the same manner as she entered and headed to the southeast. After a few minutes of passing farms and their rotating windmills, she arrived at Honningbrew Meadery, a fairly large and sophisticated structure. A Brewhouse sat next to it, separate from the main building.

Macayla walked in and immediately saw proof of the pest problem: two skeevers lay dead. The room she entered was elegant, with a long bar opposite her with multiple bookshelves lining the walls with shiny dinnerware, goblets, and wine and mead bottles; except for the dead and bloody rodents. Sabjorn was a tall, slightly overweight man; he jumped at the door opening and turned toward it with wide eyes. His fear dissipated, and he scowled at her.

"What are you gawking at? Can't you see I have problems here?" he demanded.

"Yes, I can see that..." She glanced at the bodies.

"I'm supposed to be holding a tasting of the new Honningbrew Reserve for the captain of the guard. If he sees the meadery in this state, I'll be ruined."

"I might be able to help."

He looked at her skeptically. "Oh really? And I don't suppose you'd do it out of the kindness of your heart, would you? I hope you're not expecting to get paid until the job is done."

His greediness was even worse than Edvar's. "You'd better, or I yell skeever."

Sabjorn's attitude changed in a flash. "Okay, okay. No need to make rash decisions." He reached into a pocket and handed her 250 gold coins. "Here's half and you'll get the rest when the job's done. I want these vermin permanently eliminated before my reputation is completely destroyed."

"How do I permanently clear the vermin?"

"I bought some poison. I was going to have my lazy, good-for-nothing assistant Mallus to handle it, but he seems to have vanished." He handed her a bottle of poison and a key to the basement. "If you plant this in the vermin's nest, it should stop them from ever coming back."

"Consider them dead," she said as she headed for the door to her right.

"Don't come back until every one of those things are dead. Now I've got to clean up this mess."

Macayla thought about giving him a rude gesture but kept her back to him as she opened the door and shut it behind her. She entered a storeroom for large and small mead barrels, fat brewers, and a second floor above the crisscrossing beams; there was a door up there. That had to be Sabjorn's room; the information Maven wanted would be up there, but it would have to wait until she finished the job at hand.

She found activated bear traps guarding the steps leading down to the basement. Macayla stepped over them and headed down to the door; she unlocked it with the key and stepped in.

Right in front of her were two more activated bear traps, with a dead skeever caught in one. She looked closer at the dead rodent and found him to be stouter than others in his species Macayla had run across; he also had longer and sharper teeth, curved like fangs. This was a different type of skeever plaguing Honningbrew Meadery.

The basement was another long hallway of stored barrels, drums, and bookshelves. She pulled out her bow and notched an arrow as she crept forward. Raspy wheezing stopped her. She peered around a vat to see a skeever walking beside a fallen bookcase.

She pulled back the string and shot, hitting the vermin right in its heart. Scuffling started as another one ran toward the noise. Macayla notched another arrow as the metallic clicking of a closing bear trap snapped close and the dying cry of a skeever sounded out.

She waited a moment longer before standing up and moving toward the skeever she had shot. A hole leading down into a dim and rocky tunnel sat behind the knocked-over bookshelf. Bear traps had been set here too and the one she heard activated had a dead skeever in its jaws.

Macayla got another arrow, stepped over the last open bear trap, and headed down into the tunnel. She followed the natural tunnel as it weaved back and forth, killing what skeevers she found. She also had to kill a group of Frostbite Spiders living off of skeevers that walked into their webs.

She came into a tunnel surprisingly lit by a burning torch. Its light revealed the hiding places of more bear traps, so Macayla could safely pass by. She got closer to the bracketed torch to find it beside another opening, guarded by a tripwire. This wasn't good.

What kind of lunatic would live down here? She cut the tripwire with her dagger and jumped out of the way as a spiked mace came swinging down. It would've struck her in the face if she hadn't seen the wire. She ducked around the trap and went further down, more cautious than before.

After another turn, the tunnel opened to a cavernous room; it glowed farther to her left from torch light, but with it set behind a rock wall, she couldn't see who or what lived down here. She saw a skeever carelessly walking ahead of her. She shot it, but hearing more scuffling of clawed feet, she ducked back into the tunnel.

"What is it, my darlings? Another spider?" a raspy man's voice asked.

"An arrow? Someone's here. Tunnel!"

Macayla quickly exchanged her bow for her sword and dagger. She just got them in hand when a skeever rounded the corner she hid behind. She swiped at its throat before it could attack. Another showed up, and she ducked under its lunge.

"You'll die for that!" the man yelled behind her.

She looked to find a balding and shirtless man standing in the tunnel, wearing only a fur skirt and shoes. She couldn't ogle long from having to dive to the side to avoid lightning streaking out of his hands. It killed the skeever behind her.

He screamed as he shot magic out at her again. She dodged it too and stabbed a skeever in the throat as it lunged.

Macayla spun in her crouch and threw her dagger at the man, spearing him in the thigh. He screamed in pain as he clutched at the bleeding wound.

He backed out of the cave before Macayla could reach him; three skeevers protectively covered him by throwing themselves at their trespasser. She fended them off easily with her sword, then ran out of the tunnel to finish the lunatic.

One hand tried to heal his wound as the other shot out toward her, sending out another lightning bolt. She dodged it, dodged another, and once close enough, drove her sword through his chest. He frantically clutched at her hand as he crumbled to the ground, dead.

Macayla huffed before she pulled her sword out, retrieved her thrown dagger, and wiped them clean. She better be getting compensated greatly for this.

With everything dead, she headed for the light around the rock wall. There she found the vermin's nest in piles of hay; she didn't see a bedroll, so the lunatic must've slept with them. She shuddered as she approached the nest, pulled out Sabjorn's poison, and sprinkled half. After closing the top, she headed out of the tunnel leading up to her left.

She entered another storeroom of barrels, boxes, and shelves; she had to step over some more open bear traps before heading to the door. She opened it to find herself in Honningbrew Brewhouse with six enormous vats fermenting mead over fires. A staircase led up to a walkway surrounding the vats for access to the tops.

Macayla walked up the steps and read each vats' sign for what mead it held. She found the one holding Honningbrew Reserve, opened the brewer lid, and poured the rest of Sabjorn's poison in. She closed the lid and headed out of the Brewhouse. The door exited her out into Skyrim, and she walked around back to the main building.

She entered to find the room now clear of any blood or skeevers, Sabjorn behind the bar, and two more men in attendance: an older man in the yellow attire of the Whiterun guard and Mallus Maccius. She walked up to Sabjorn, eyeing her.

"Done."

"Well, it's about time!" he said exasperatedly. "I had to stall the captain until you were finished."

She ground her teeth. "What about my pay?"

"You'll just have to wait until after the captain's finished. I suppose you can wait around if you must."

He left her to walk down the bar to where the captain waited. He turned on a spigot to retrieve mead from the Brewhouse. She headed back to stand beside Mallus as she waited for the show to begin.

"Well, Sabjorn, now that you've taken care of your little pest problem, how about I get a taste of some of your mead?" the captain asked.

Sabjorn placed the small mead barrel on the bar. "Help yourself, milord. It's my finest brew yet: I call it Honningbrew Reserve. I think you'll find it quite pleasing to your palate."

He grabbed a tankard and poured some mead out of the spigot. "Oh, come now, this is mead, not some wine to be sipped and savored." He took a sip, then nearly doubled over as he spit it back out. "By the Eight! What—what's in this?"

Sabjorn looked panicked. "I... I don't know. What's wrong?"

"You assured me this place was clean! I'll see... see to it that you remain in irons for the rest of your days!"

"No, please. I don't understand..."

"Silence, idiot! I should've known better to trust this place after it's been riddled with filth."

"I beg you, please! This is not what it seems!"

The captain of the guard turned his back on the owner babbling about his cluelessness and walked toward her and Mallus. "You" —he directed Mallus— "you're in charge here until I can sort this all out."

"It will be my pleasure," he said.

The captain turned back to Sabjorn. "And you... you're coming with me to Dragonsreach. We'll see how quickly your memory clears in the city's prisons. Now move."

He continued to try to talk his way out of it. "Look, I assure you, this is all just a huge misunderstanding!"

A sword unsheathing emphasized the captain's order. "I said move!"

Sabjorn walked around the bar with the captain behind him, ensuring he go. They passed in front of them. "Farewell, Sabjorn," Mallus said as they reached the door.

Once they left, Mallus turned to her. "I don't think that could've gone any better," he said gleefully. "Anything else you need before you head back to Riften?"

"I need to get a look at Sabjorn's books."

"So, Maven wants to hunt down Sabjorn's private partner, huh? You're welcome to take a look around Sabjorn's office. He keeps most of his papers stashed in his desk." He handed her a key.

She looked at him sharply. "You never mentioned that lunatic living in the tunnels."

"I thought it better to leave some details out of our previous discussion; didn't want to risk you walking away from the job."

"A heads up would've been nice, though."

"Besides, you've done Maven a favor by getting rid of him and saving me coin hiring someone else to do it later."

She nodded in thanks to his unsaid appreciation as she headed for the doors behind her. Macayla re-entered the main storeroom, found the stairs leading up to the second floor, and headed for Sabjorn's office. She unlocked the door with the key and went in.

His office also acted as his bedroom. She searched the night tables and chest by his bed for anything. She thought about checking the door she saw when she found his dresser locked. The key unlocked it and she found what she looked for: a letter informing him to start production and not to worry about Maven Black-Briar. Once again, it had no name but the same dagger symbol as the one on the Goldenglow Bill of Sale.

It wasn't much; Maven probably wouldn't be thrilled, but Macayla had done her job.

Macayla tucked away the letter and shut the drawer. Again, her eye went to the closed door. Her thieving instincts were going wild, almost like she could smell the coin behind the door. The key wouldn't work, so Macayla picked it open. Within, she found a fat coin purse, a silver sapphire necklace, a strongbox, and a pretty gold-and-ruby decanter. Ever since the Queen Bee Statue, Delvin told her to keep an eye out for similar items. This decanter would catch his eye nicely.

She snatched it all up, then shut the door behind her like she hadn't been in there. She walked out, giving Mallus a little wave as she did so.

***

"I trust you have good news for me," Maven began after Macayla had returned from Whiterun.

"Everything's done. Here's the information you requested." She handed her the letter.

Maven read through it. "This doesn't tell me much. The only thing that could identify Sabjorn's partner is this odd little symbol."

Macayla nodded. "I've seen that symbol before."

"Well, whoever this mysterious marking represents, they'll regret starting a war with me. You should bring this information to the Thieves Guild immediately." She looked up at her. "There's also the matter of your payment. I believe you'll find this more than adequate for your services." She handed her an enchanted blade worth at least 700 septim.

"I believe we're done here," Maven said as she stood and briskly walked down to the first floor of The Bee and Barb.

"I'm relieved we are," Macayla said under her breath.