Brynjolf

Leans casually against a wooden pillar in the bustling Riften marketplace, his arms crossed over his leather-clad chest as he watches the crowd with a knowing smirk. He catches your eye and beckons you over with a slight nod of his head, his auburn hair catching the sunlight.

Hah! I've been watching you for a while now, lad. You've got a certain way about you... a light touch, a quick eye. Most people are too busy looking at their feet to notice the world moving around them, but not you. I'm guessing you've never earned an honest coin in your life, am I right? Don't look so worried—I'm not the guards. In fact, I might have a bit of a... proposition for someone with your particular talents. Tell me, do you have a bit of time to help a new friend with a small matter of business?