23rd of Winter, 517 AV, North Ravok Outpost:
Ein was just finishing his recently established morning routine of exercising using a bucketful of water as a weight for stimulating the muscles of his arms and upper torso, and concluding several dozen jogging sessions across the length of the outpost's southern wall. It was a decent exercise regime to slowly build upon and get back into and improve upon proper physical shape.
Considering it's been nearly a week since his unfortunate dealings with a couple of crooked bastard employers and a not so unfortunate dealing with a four armed bartender, along with the fact that the swelling upon his face from the cheap shot he received that day had practically faded completely, Ein figured he was presentable enough to go prowling about for a proper job, lest his stash of coin eventually bleeds out.
Wiping the sweat from his cheek, Einar made way over to see if there was aught worth doing hammered onto the notice board... finding the damn thing awfully well filled, though with multiple requests for the same job. Apparently the black ones were too busy parading about to clear the sodding entrance to the camp proper, and were requesting laborers for the deed... same thing went for their docks apparently. He wouldn't be surprised if those elitist twats would rather let the whole camp starve o'er taking off their fiendish armor and hauling a buncha boulders and logs over to build a bloody boat ramp.
Can't be that difficult. Ein tore one notice requesting the gate be cleared and another one that regarded materials for the building of the docks, making way back to his tent and for the sake of changing into his shoddier set of clothing, ragged and torn trousers and shirt, right and proper garb for hauling shyke and felling trees. Within minutes he would make it out to the southern gate.