Searching for a job in the Sea-side markets - open

[Thorne]

It was still cold this early in the morning. He was glad that Spring had arrived and some of the bitterness was leaving the weather. Still not nice, though, he thought, wrapping his cloak tighter around him against the heavy damp of the sea air. His left hand habitually rested on the head of his axe, hanging from a metal loop on his belt, and his right readjusted the shield to a more comfortable position across his back where it wouldn't catch against his armour as much.
He had left his home, such as it was, not long after dawn wanting to arrive at the markets early but certainly not wanting to be out before light. His head felt light and his stomach growled at him. He had had a scant breakfast from what little he had remaining, but it hadn't been enough. He had to save the last of his food though. He cursed himself for buying that cheap wine last night. He had known it was a stupid way to spend the last of his money, but he had wanted to forget for a while. Well, he had - but now he was remembering again.
Shrugging himself out of his self-pitying reverie he again focused on his surroundings. Not clever to let his mind wander whilst he was out and about.
The markets were already bustling as he arrived, although they never really stopped. He quite liked the colour the water went as the morning sun hit it, but was not so fond of the smell of the place. Actually, he wasn't fond of the city at all; not anymore. That's why he was here. He needed money, but he wanted to get out of Sunberth, away from this squallid existence.
The morning breeze was cool across his shaven head as he checked himself to make sure he looked as presentable, and capable, as possible. He entered amongst the first of the stalls, looking for anything that might suggest tiself for work.

[Thorne]

Two damn days to find a job. Still, at least he had found one. It was getting on towards evening as he headed out of the markets towards his home. He cursed as he readjusted his shield yet again. Damn thing had seemed a good idea at the time. Make him look more like a caravan guard, he had thought. Right now it was just a pain in the arse. And he hadn’t much idea of how to use it. He had never found the need for one before, living in the city. Too awkward to carry around, and they made you stand out more than was wise. And, of course, it was far too easy to put it down somewhere while you were drinking and forget about it. Not like an axe, which hung comfortably at his side, convenient and familiar. Still, it might save him from some arrows or something of the sort. Could even be good for keeping the rain off.
He had tried practicing with the unfamiliar combination of axe and shield, in the privacy of his home, but the thing seemed more hindrance than help. It just kept getting in the way, confusing his attacks and fumbling his defense. The road would be long, though. Maybe he would find time to practice with some of the other guards.
The shadows were beginning to lengthen, to become more dangerous. The inns were filling up and he could here the sound of raucous revelry, carousing and fighting. Damn he wanted a drink. Tricky without money though. At least when the caravan goes he would have food and ale. It’d probably be cheap and nasty, but more than he had now. What the hell was he going to do for the next four days, though? He had some food left, true, but nothing to drink. He stepped to the side as someone threw stinking refuse out of an upstairs window, splattering his boots as it hit the ground. He walked on, adjusting the shield on his back with another muttered curse.
The job wasn’t going to pay as much as he would have liked, but the inclusion of board was a real bonus. He didn’t have enough money to equip himself for the journey, and anyway he was a crap cook. And there was the opportunity for further employment if he did well. From what the man had said, there would be four other guards, one of whom was cook and the other guard-leader. Both of them had been with the merchant for years. Also two others, but he hadn’t been told much about them. Maybe they were also newly hired on. Whoever they were, he hoped they would be sociable enough; he didn’t much fancy a long, silent journey. He had always enjoyed a bit of company, especially when drinking. Damn, that first ale was going to taste good.
He pulled his cloak around himself, having to readjust the damned shield again as he did so, and kept his left hand on his axe, more out of habit than anything else. Still, something felt strange, he realised.
He glanced round, trying to make the action look casual. The ramshackle street wound away behind him, the shadows still and heavy. A think crack of light shone from between shutters, flickering as something momentarily passed it from inside. The sounds of the evening drifted along on the salty air. He waited a moment, looking slightly upward to allow the edges of his vision to pick up any movement; nothing. A moment longer, then he turned and continued on, keeping his footsteps quiet and his ears alert. Only about ten more minutes and he’d be back. He hoped.

[Thorne]

After days of waiting, and not a little boredom, he was glad it was time for the caravan to leave. He finished putting his armour on, slid his axe into it's loop, donned cloak and pack and finally put that damned shield over his shoulder. He thought that he must at least look the part, and he did know how to hit someone with an axe.
He could feel excitement in the pit of his stomach. For the first time in his life he was going to Leave Sunberth, start out on the road. Maybe learn a trade, a profession; maybe just get himself killed. Anyway, he had hope. That was always what mattered. He finished the last meagre piece of his food, sadly stale, and stepped outside in a cool morning breeze. It felt good. It felt like freedom..
He started walking towards the markets.