<1st day of Summer, 512 AV> Horlamin had walked the streets for too long without a sense of purpose. Too long he wandered, fighting for scraps of gold and food. His goals in life have been muddled in his jumble of thoughts. He was a walking mass of confusion that could be set straight by one thing. Ale would cloud his mind, and a woman didn't nothing more but screw you over, but a job could bring the honestly out of any man. Unless that job was not honest either. As Horlamin scoured the job listings at the Establishment, he saw both honest and not so honest work. Sure he could become a brewer or a woodcarver, but that bored the fighter just thinking about it. He glanced down at his attire, his scale armor and broad sword on hip; did he look like someone who would carve wood for a living? No, Hor sought a different approach to making money. One opening did catch his eye, though. It seemed that too many merchants to list individually sought help in protection of their businesses. But from what Hor could infer from this slip of paper, there was more to the job than just protecting a stall in the market. What exactly he would do Hor was uncertain of, but he knew fighting would be common in this profession. Hor liked to fight. So he liked this job. But first he needed to find one of these merchants. And to do that, Hor needed to speak to the one man who knew; Master Tua. Hor had heard the name spoken earlier towards a small man wearing a broad-brim hat. The fighter walked over, nodding his head in greeting towards the man. "It seems merchants in the city need a helping hand guarding their wares. Would ya happen to know where I might find one of these merchants?" And that is where Hor cut off. Now he let the master handle his job. His honest job. |