The sun climbed over Daggerfall’s sharp spires as I emerged, shoeless and disoriented, from the unfamiliar house. Roulena, busy raking the grass, barely registered my appearance, commenting only on her workload. I feigned nonchalance, as if stepping out barefoot and half-dressed was perfectly normal.
My immediate need was footwear. I inquired about nearby shops and was directed to the Tradesmen’s Square. However, before I could take ten steps, a woman named Mihayya intercepted me, leaning against a post, idly flipping a coin. She revealed that I hadn’t simply appeared in Daggerfall; I had been rescued from the sea by a Captain (whose name began with either a ‘C’ or a ‘K’) after the events in Coldharbor. Mihayya suggested joining the Captain’s crew, citing a shortage of hands. I agreed, though it was a blatant lie. The open sea held little appeal; I preferred solid ground beneath my feet. Perhaps later, I’d send a message of gratitude to the Captain.
My path led me towards the market. A tempting opportunity presented itself: a house next to the one I’d awakened in, ripe for lockpicking practice. Unfortunately, my attempt ended disastrously, snapping my only lockpick. My stealthy crouch by the door, carefully chosen while the Pact Guard looked away, had been for naught. This only reinforced my conviction to join the Thieves Guild.
A bustling market square filled with various people and goods.
Penniless and lockpick-less, I reached the market. The bustling scene, teeming with diverse races and creatures, instantly quelled any thoughts of petty theft. Too many eyes watched. I feigned interest in crafting books, subtly scoping out packs and trunks, but found no discreet target. A pair of unattended boots caught my eye, but the image of a Guard’s sword piercing my back quickly dissuaded me. The only stealable item was a sack of saltrice—a cooking ingredient—but culinary skills were beyond my repertoire.
A view of Daggerfall's market square with a fountain.
I retreated to the fountain square, leaning against the wall to observe the chaotic activity. People leaped from the fountain, stumbled, sprinted, teleported, rode camels, cast spells, and prayed. The sight of the church sparked an idea. Churches: always open, always quiet, always filled with valuable trinkets. And there it stood, directly across the square.
A large cathedral with a statue in front.
The Cathedral, dedicated to Mara, seemed to beckon. The priest outside ironically advised me to “Find what I seek” within. Inside, a fiery sermon was in progress, preventing any casual conversation. Perhaps my disheveled appearance also contributed to their aloofness. I quickly sought refuge in the shadows, rummaging through barrels and crates.
My search yielded some meager greens and ginger, a two-tined carving fork, and, most importantly, a lockpick! The preacher’s droning about Kynareth and Zenithar had been a small price to pay.
A dark corner of a church with barrels and crates.
Leaving the church, I turned towards a bridge. A beggar sat at its edge, repeatedly muttering about “being next.” Intrigued, I inquired about his cryptic words. He directed me to the trade district to investigate murdered beggars. Having experienced homelessness myself, I made perhaps more promises than I could keep. Lacking coin, I offered the meager food I’d found in the church. If my path led to the trade district and the right people, I would inquire on his behalf.
A bridge in Daggerfall with a beggar sitting at the edge.
Then, a dramatic scene unfolded. A cloaked figure attempted to pickpocket a Guard on the bridge! The Guard reacted swiftly, striking the thief, who then scrambled up the bridge railing and leaped into the water below. The thief emerged from the water and fled behind the Cathedral, pursued relentlessly by the Guard.
A view from a bridge overlooking water and buildings.
Daggerfall, I realized, was a city brimming with excitement and intrigue. Perhaps it was a more suitable destination than Riften after all. This shoeless adventure was just the beginning.
