17th of Summer, 510 AV
Apples. Had he the coin, Rhuryc would have purchased his own apple grove far from the city. Instead he tossed the circular, red specimen in the air for a quick test of its aerodynamic ability before he placed it back among its peers. A frown and a sigh later the young man turned away from the merchant's stall and scanned the harrowing crowd. The usual assortment of peasantry lay scattered about the whole of the basement cavern, merchants, clerks, smiths, and the occasional vagabond or two, all no different than the day before. The constant buzz of idle chatter assailed his ears while he did his best to ignore the collective, unwashed smell from the masses. At least he was use to it. Yet, he could not help but twitch his nose in silent protest, unsure if his quest for dinner had reach an all-too-early end. A shame that would be.
The sole of his boots struck a muffled clatter against the cobbled flooring as he moved. Each step brought a slight draw of attention and with it Rhuryc did what he could to shrink, his hands ducking into pockets at his waist as he haunched his shoulders and kept his chin tucked to his chest. To the casual observer one would assume that the brazen vagabond of a male was up to something; for who else would try to abscond notice with so much effort? In truth the motion was meant to avoid the socializing merchants, the beck and call of impromptu purchases of the bazaar goer assured financial destruction and, after all, Rhuryc had only come in search of dinner. And breakfast. Perhaps a snack or two. Or whatever caught his eye.
A soft curse escape his lips as he came to an abrupt halt. Rhuryc blinked and removed a hang from its slumber, scraping a stray bang from his eyes as a sparkle caught his attention. In some strange twist of fate he now stood in front of a weaselly featured merchant, his grubby paws attached in a series of predatory exercises. The flash of light drew the man's eye again until it rested on a series of fine jewelery; gems, rings, an assortment of accessories fit for a Lady, or a particularly effeminate man. With a tilted chin, the young apprentice survey the stall with a weary appraisal. All he wanted was a sufficient dinner. Right?