Spring 15, 513 AV. Kenash.
Carina woke with the rising sun, just as always. It had been two months since her father's death, and she was finally becoming aware of her lack of income. She had grand goals, but she could hardly hope to accomplish them if she found herself starving on the street.
She dressed herself, prepared a simple breakfast of wheat and dried apples, and ate it. Then she strapped on her sword belt, rapier in its sheath, and set off from her small cottage for the city center.
What sort of place has work for the daughter of a ruined aristocrat? The question rolled around her head. No answer came to her.