I hated winter, hated it with a passion.  When I was rich enough to go out on my own, I vowed that one day I would move to the Alik'ir Desert. But for now, I was stuck roaming around Vanshire, Menevia, freezing my ass off while I searched for likely marks.  
  
'Not much longer now,' I told myself as I roamed the vast marketplace near the Angry Porcupine.  'A few more takes, and I'm free of that blasted Thieves' guild.'  I wanted to join the Shadow Walkers, had gotten several invitations from them, in fact.  But I had a debt to pay off, and it wasn't bloody likely that the Thieves' Guild would issue me an IOU for the  
rest.  
  
I kicked at a clump of snow and watched it skitter down the street a bit.  I paused, blowing onto my hands.  My father and I weren't poor.  I could afford gloves-hell, I could have stolen them-if I wanted them. But gloves, even the fingerless kind, made pickpocketing awkward.  
  
I stood and watched for a bit at the motley group of citizens on parade, sizing them all up.  The pretty dames in fancy satin gowns and furred velvet cloaks looked like they'd have quite a bit of coin on them, but one of them was holding a fluffy little lapdog.  My fingers were my stock in trade, and I didn't fancy getting them nipped.  I moved on.  
  
Perhaps the matron with all those packages?  No, like as not, she'd blown all her money, and besides, she'd start squawking if I got within a foot of her.  You wear leathers, people just assume you're a thief.  Go figure.  
  
My stomach grumbled.  I hadn't eaten breakfast, in spite of my father's admonishments.  I'd been in too much of a hurry.  Maybe I'd pop over to that bakery and see about some cinnamon rolls.  
  
"Hey, wench!"  
    I turned in the direction of the voice.  I saw a burly young man, dressed in the uniform of a Vanshire town guard.  He and his cronies grinned at me as he said, "I'm getting off in five minutes!  How about you and me have a go at it?"  They laughed.  
  
I refused to even consider it.  I was still a virgin.  I wasn't a prude, I just didn't fancy giving my tail to any good-looking lout who asked.  And the guard was good looking, with broad shoulders, blond hair, and a wide mouth.  
  
Men.  It didn't seem to matter if they were street trash, town guards, scholars, or nobles.  All of them wanted a piece, but it puzzled me why they wanted a piece of Nyx.  I was too tall, overweight, and not at all blonde, blue eyed, or dainty.  Beat all, it did.  
  
I grinned saucily at the guard and said, "Do you get off in five minutes all the time?"  
The other guards roared with laughter as their young crony turned beet red.  Surprisingly, he wasn't at all put off.  "Come on, luv.  I've had my eye on you for a while."  
  
"Well, enjoy it, because that's all you'll ever have on me!"  I turned and sauntered off, blushing myself.  You've got a wicked mouth, Nyx, I told myself.  And you're always putting your foot in it!  
  
Town guards, indeed.  Always poking their noses into your business, yelling 'Halt halt halt!' at the drop of a hat, pestering people all the time.  I made my way to the bakery to get my cinnamon roll and some coffee.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, I came out of the bakery licking my fingers clean and sighing contentedly.  That had hit the spot, for sure!  
  
I kept my eyes open.  An elf approached, and I sized him up quickly and coolly.  A likely target, until I saw the imp sitting on his shoulder. Imps are cute little beggars, but this was obviously a familiar of some sort.  He'd more and likely raise an alarm to his master if my fingers got anywhere near that full pouch the elf carried.  The imp chittered something  
to his master.  The elf saw me looking, winked, and moved on.  
  
For the next hour, I didn't see any other likely targets.  I saw a lot of workers, but more than likely all they'd have is enough money for a mug of ale or two at the Porc.  
  
I stepped into an armory to warm up.  Jerzik, the owner, knew who I was.  He looked up, smiling.  "Hello, Nyx, come to warm up a bit?" I nodded.  "It's cold enough to freeze the ass of a frost daedra!"  Jerzik chuckled.  "So how does it go today?"  He was sharpening a  
gleaming red dai-katana, a gorgeous weapon.  Daedric alloy, the best in all Tamriel.  Sparks flew as he touched it to the grindstone. I made a face.  "It sucks.  I've not seen a likely mark all day."  Jerzik shook his head.  "You don't owe that much more, Nyx.  I could lend you the three gold pieces."  "We've been through this before, old friend.  I got myself involved; I'll get myself out of it.  Besides," I said with a wicked grin, "I'd have to pay it back the best way I know how!"  The aging swordsmith rolled his eyes.  "Stubborn wench," he said, but his voice was fond.  He pulled the sword away from the grindstone. "There," he said, eyeing the blade admiringly.  "Back to it's beautiful self, it is.  I don't know what that lad does with it. Sometimes I think he uses it to hew firewood and break down doors!"  
  
The bell overhead rang as the door opened, admitting the biggest dark elf I'd ever seen in my life.  He had to duck a bit as he walked through the door.  He was dressed head to foot in daedric armor, his hair even redder.  He looked to be nearly as wide as he was tall, all of it  
muscle. He was good looking enough, if you liked them big, tall, and fierce looking.  Now there was some wealth to be had, but I wouldn't make a very good thief without my head.  I bade Jerzik goodbye and left before temptation ran off with me.  
  
Back out on the street, I scanned the crowd once more.  Nothing.  I was about to give up and move on when I saw someone come staggering out of the Angry Porcupine.  

    I sized him up quickly.  He was a mercenary from the look of him, and quite drunk, even though it wasn't even noon.  He'd probably been drinking all night, I mused.  Not enough to pass out, but enough to get one hell of a hangover once he slept it off.  

    Normally I didn't even mess with mercenaries.  While the dark elf looked big and tough, I hadn't sensed any real malice in him, though he'd certainly take exception to me pinching his coins.  But with mercenaries, a girl never knew what was going to happen.  I could wind up dead, raped, or worse.  But this fellow was drunk enough not to notice if Hermeus Mor  
suddenly plunked down in front of him to tell him his fortune.  Surely he wouldn't notice a wench trying to pick his pocket, I thought as I made my way closer.  

    The mercenary staggered to and fro like a ship in a storm.  I pretended to saunter along, wide-eyed, taking in all the sights of the big city. I paused to pluck a bit of lint from my midnight blue silk shirt, then gaped up at the distant spires of a temple.  

    This was it!  The mercenary was closer now.  I walked into him, hands feeling with expert lightness for his purse.  "Excuse me, sir," I said, standing aside.  "Watch yer ass, wench!" he growled, eyes narrowed.  He wobbled a bit, then righted himself.  The fumes of cheap whiskey could have felled Ebonarm himself.  "I'm sorry, sir," I repeated, then moved on, tucking his purse into my bodice.  I sauntered slowly away, for to hurry would have caused undue suspicion.  

    A rough hand fell on my shoulder.  "You fell for it," the mercenary told me, grinning.  "I was hoping you'd try!"  "Let go of me!"  I cried, twisting in his grip, a grip that was far too strong for someone so drunk.  And then I realized-it had all been an act!  

   "You're a thief taker!" Thief takers were the worst of a bad lot.  Former thieves themselves,  
thief takers sold out to the side of the law.  For handsome fees, thief takers would act as bait to cutpurses and pickpockets, then catch them and haul them off to jail.  I had to admit, it worked much easier than a bunch of burly louts bellowing 'Halt! Halt! Halt!' at the top of their lungs.  

    He grinned, exposing brown, rotting teeth.  "That's right, wench!  I am.  And you'll be coming with me."  His eyes took me in: my face, the white breasts revealed by the low cut of my jerkin and blouse, my rounded hips.  "However…you and me might just be able to work out a deal."  He leered.     I knew what he was getting at.  He was too big and burly, too  
suspicious right now for me to try and knee his groin or scratch his face. So I had no choice but to play along-for now.  

    I looked up at him from under dark gold lashes.  "Oh, my!  You're so big, and strong, too."  I supposed he was, he didn't have an ounce of fat on him.  But his teeth were rotting, and his nose had obviously been broken many times.  His black hair was oily and thin.  Handsome he wasn't, but my survival depended on my making him think I found him appealing.  The  
whiskey fumes were overwhelming!  What had he done, bathed in it?  "I guess I have no choice, sir."  I said.  

    He grinned evilly, his lust overcoming what little sense he had. "That's for sure.  C'mon, wench.  There's a little alley right here by the Angry Porcupine.  We can have our fun there.  You might be a little cold at first, but ol' Edmond will warm ya right up!"  "Ohh, I'll bet."  I let Edmond lead me to a trash filled alley just outside the back doors of the inn.  Service porch, Joel the innkeeper called it.  Well, unless I was able to fight my way out of this, we would bring an all-new meaning to the phrase 'service porch'.  

    The smell was awful, but in summer it was even worse.  At least it served to overwhelm the thief taker's stench as he pressed me up against the wall.  His hands fondled my breasts, making me want throw up right there and then.  Keep your cool, Nyx, I told myself.  

    "Come on, wench, give us a kiss!"  Edmond growled. I took hold of his shoulders as his mouth slobbered on mine.  I'd been kissed before, but this was enough to put me off all thoughts of kissing forever.  I dug my fingers into his shoulders, relishing his groan.  The  
fool thought I was being passionate.  Was he in for a surprise!  

    I brought my knee up into his groin with all my force.  At the same time, I shoved him, hard.  Screeching in pain, Edmond crashed into the midden pit behind the inn.  Potato peels, rotten meat, and worse splashed into the air, raining down onto the cobblestones.  I had to stay to watch as he clambered out, cursing and screaming.  Curiosity demanded it.  

    "Whore!  You'll pay now!  I was gonna treat-ya really nice, but now!"  

    I turned and ran.  In a blind panic, I tried the back door of the inn, which of course was locked.  Edmond was only a few feet behind me now. Rape was the kindest thing he had on his mind.  I ran around the corner, the thief taker hot on my heels.  A delivery boy carrying loaves of bread hastily stepped aside as I ran past him, nearly knocking the bread from his arms.  He cursed both me and Edmond roundly, but I paid him no mind.  I had to get to the inn!  Joel would know what to do.  He was an ex-adventurer, and he'd faced worse than angry, smelly thief takers.  

    I hit a patch of ice and skidded.  Arms flailing, I righted myself and kept running. Edmond wasn't so lucky.  He hit the ice and flew into the air, crashing down on his back.  "I know where yer headed, bitch!" he yelled.  "And I'll find ya, too!  And when I do…" He let the threat dangle.  

    I paid him no mind.  I ran right inside the inn, nearly knocking over a beautiful, dark skinned wood elf woman.  She gave me a curious look but said nothing, merely continued on her way to Jerzik's weapon shop.  

    The inn was nearly empty.  I only saw a few patrons-some at the bar, the other few seated in a booth.  Joel was no where to be seen.  Damn! What would I do now?  

    Husky laughter at one of the nearby booths caught my attention.  I looked over and saw two elves, one a bard from the look of him, the other a mage.  An idea jumped unbidden into my head.  It was crazy, it was daring, and it just might work.  

    I ran over to the pair, gasping, "Please!  You have to help me! Man…chasing me!"  I collapsed into the booth next to the dark elf mage, panting. He eyed my considerable cleavage appreciatively.  "I wouldn't doubt it," he teased.  His friend the bard laughed. "I'm serious!" I cried.  "He-he was going to…" I left the rest to their imaginations.  "Please, one of you pretend to be my lover!"  "Only one of us?" the bard teased.  He was quite a looker, with that  
long black hair and silvery gray eyes.  And, I saw, a half elf, like me.  "I'll do it," the dark elf volunteered with a wicked smile.  He liked what he saw, I knew.  The feeling was mutual.  He was as good looking as his friend, with auburn hair and indigo eyes.  "I don't care which of you does it!  Just do it!" I cried. Realizing how my words sounded, I blushed fiercely, amusing them both to no end.  

    The bard came over and sat next to me, squeezing me against the dark elf.  He didn't seem to mind a bit.  To be honest, neither did I.  

    No sooner had we gotten situated than Edmond came stomping and cursing into the Angry Porcupine.  "I take it that's our man," the bard said wryly.  "He isn't my man!" I groused.  
"A good thing, he's not anywhere near good enough for you," the dark elf said.  

    I blushed under his praise, though I wondered at the sincerity of  it.  

    Edmond saw us and stormed over to the table.  "Give me that wench!" he growled.  "She tried to pick my pockets!"  "Is that so?" drawled the bard.  "The lady tells us a different story."  "Well, I did try and pick his pocket," I admitted.  "But then the sod tried to rape me!"  

    "Rape?!  Rape!" he bellowed.  "The little bitch led me on, she did! I told her I was willing to forget the whole thing, if she gave me a little tail!  So what does she do?  She kicks me in the groin and runs!"  He leaned down into the bard's face.  The half elf coughed delicately.  

    "I think if I had a choice between doing it with you, or kicking you in the groin, I'd kick you too!" the dark elf told him calmly.  

    "Just give me the wench," Edmond growled, "and I'll forget you said  
that, fairy boots!"  

    The dark elf's eyes narrowed dangerously.  "The lady," he explained slowly, "belongs to my friend and I."  

    I gasped.  I saw it coming, and still it took me by surprise.  My friend Elsbeth would never believe the likes of this!  

    The bard kissed my cheek, then my ear, making me shiver a little. How different it made me feel than when Edmond had kissed me!  

    "You'll have to fight us both for her," the dark elf said, taking my hand and kissing it.  Icy shivers ran up my arm.  Cheeky bastards!  But I'd have been lying if I said I thought it unpleasant.  

    Some of the wind seemed to go out of the thief taker's sails.  
"Fine. Keep her.  Considering that the slut is boffing you both, she probably has  
the bloody pox!"  
    I bristled at that, but clamped down on my tongue.  
    "You have two choices, sir," I heard Joel tell Edmond.  "Apologize to  
the lady, or taste my sturdy mace."  The innkeeper had returned, and was  
slapping his open palm lazily with the ebony mace he'd used in his  
wandering days.  "I've known Nyxalinth since she was a young one, and if  
she's a slut, then I'm Mehrunes Dagon."  
    The thief taker glared balefully at Joel, then back at us.  "Right.  
Fine.  Sorry."   He stalked out the door, slamming it hard behind him.  
    "Thanks," I told my seat companions.  "I appreciate that."  
    "Our pleasure, lady," the bard said, gray eyes twinkling.  
    The dark elf grinned.  "You're lucky.  We hadn't yet filled our  
quota  
of rescuing fair damsels for the month."  
    A smart remark came to mind, but I let it flow away.  I was, in Joel's  
words, 'a sassy baggage', but I was at a loss for words.  "I-I'm Nyxalinth.  
 Nyx for short."  
    The dark elf grinned.  "I'm Zerith, and the fine bard here is Nightshade."  

    "Pleased to meet you," I said with a wry smile.  "Most excitement I've  
had in a while.  How can I repay your help?"  Uh oh.   A bad choice of  
words for a 'fair maiden', like me.  
    My companions laughed.  "Something tells me you wouldn't be open to  
our first choice," Nightshade teased, "so we'll settle for hearing the story  
of what happened!"  
    "And sharing some ale with us," Zerith added.  
    Nightshade waved over a barmaid.  I told my story, every last word  
of  it, beginning with the town guard's raunchy comments and ending with  
running inside the Angry Porcupine.  "Which reminds me," I said, reaching  
into my bodice.  "I still have that guy's purse!"  I jiggled the bag,  
grinning at the sound of the coins.  
    Zerith grinned.  "Then it would seem that your efforts weren't a total  
loss."  
    I looked at them both, smiling, happier than I'd been in a while.  
"Even without the coins, it would not be a loss, for something tells me  
I've made some friends this day."  
    "That you have, lass," Nightshade said.  I could have drowned in his eyes.  
  
The barmaid brought the ale.  Zerith took this glass, held it high.  
"To friendship, then."  
    "To friendship," Nightshade, repeated, smiling.  
    "To friendship," I said, smiling back at them.  At that moment, winter  
seemed a whole lot less bleak.