Racetrack scaled the tower, darkness enveloped his field of view as rain whipped his face. He felt his grip slipping against the wet stones that he was supporting his weight with. He reached up, lifting himself by his now shaking arms. He finally reached the open window and heaved himself inside.

Race crashed to the floor loudly and stood with a groan. He took in his dim surroundings before being shocked to see a handsome boy staring at him with equal surprise. The boy's look of confusion quickly turned to one of apprehension.

"Who are you and how did you get up here?" the boy quizzed him.

Racetrack was not up for admitting to his intentions of stealing from the bandits that occupied the tower. Race was a small-time adventurer and full-time thief. He had been drinking in Riften, the home of most of Skyrim's thieves, when he had been approached by Talen-Jei who'd asked a favor of him. He had wanted him to steal three flawless amethysts from a camp of bandits. Apparently a jewelry caravan had been ambushed recently and he wanted Race to check it out and bring him the stones. He'd agreed to pay 200 septims which was far less than what the amethysts were worth but he'd agreed to it because he was such a sweetheart. Racetrack drew his bow, he didn't want to shoot the man but he didn't want to die at the hands of a bandit even more.

The stranger knocked the bow out of Racetrack's hands and snatched one of his arrows from the quiver before the boy could blink. He loaded the bow and pointed it at him. "Tell me who you are," he commanded in a stage whisper.

Race took a deep breath. It wasn't the first time someone had pointed a weapon at the thief not good enough to make the Thieve's Guild, but it was the first time that the weapon was his. "I'm Racetrack Higgins; I'm an adventurer from Riften. I was hired to come here-"

"Are you here to rescue me?" the stranger interjected.

"Of … course," Racetrack lied. "You are the kid I'm looking for ain't ya?"

"I'm Spot Conlon from Shor's Stone. Did my father send you?"

"Yes." Race found that the lies were coming easier now. "May I please have my bow Spot Conlon?"

"Yeah sure." Spot handed over the low-quality hunting bow.

"Here." Race gave him the glass dagger he'd lifted off of an off duty Thalmor soldier in Solitude for Vittoria Vici's wedding.

"This is the most expensive thing I've ever held in my life," Spot commented.

"Stick with me and you'll hold things better than that."

Spot smiled. "How do you plan on getting out of here?"

"Uhh, through there." Race pointed at the trapdoor in the floor.

"You know even less about this than I do?" Spot asked. "If we go through there were like to wake the sleeping bandits.

"Not if we're quiet Race laughed.

"You're not serious are you?"

"I am unless you're willing to go out through the window."

"Are those really the only two options?" Spot asked in fear."I'm just a miner's son, I'm no adventurer."

"It'll be okay." Racetrack assured him.

"Alright fine, let's go out the window."

"Okay. You go first."

"What?! No! I don't want to."

Race tossed a rope out the window. "It's okay, I'm not gonna drop you.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Spot said as he climbed out the window. He scurried down the rope. Once he reached the floor Race crawled down untethered. He reached the ground gracefully, meeting Spot in the rain.