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"Damn it! I thought this place was supposed to need people to work!" The rain floating past him on its path towards the ground, Yeran muttered to himself angrily as he walked down the streets of Tyr. He'd spent a good three hours, unsuccessfully trying to volunteer his services to help any merchant who needed the extra manpower. The town was just as busy as he'd heard it was...Town? More like small city. Just the size he'd thought it would be too. The sheer amount of people flowing around him made him nervous, but also gave him the definite idea that there was money to be made here. Well, he knew there was money to be made - the problem was how to go about getting his hands on it.

Reaching into his pocket, under the traveler's cloak, he pulled out one of his small purses. After almost getting his little funding taken by a cutpurse in his last stint as a loader on the docks, he'd decided it would be better off to split what valuable money he had left among separate pockets. This way it would be harder for it to get stolen, and hell, that's the last thing he needed. Looking to the buildings beside him, the merchant stalls began to make way into more residential-oriented businesses. That meant inns and other lodgings would be here, which meant it was a place he would have to get familiar with. Even if he had money, he'd have to obtain a place to sleep and eat. Eating was less important - he'd gotten used to meager fare, and what was being peddled around him would easily maintain him for as long as he needed without too significant a drain.

Still, he needed a job. And preferably within the next two or three days. If it was possible at all, something that brought in enough to live by.

Damn, he'd love that. A decent life here wouldn't be bad at all. Get some spare change to send back to mom, dad, sis...keep what I need for myself and maybe set up a nice place. Something solid, modest. Shaking his head, a half-smile crossing his face, he walked into an inn that looked fairly inexpensive but decent, noticing a man who looked rather drunk slip back in and sit down. The liquor does do that, he thought with a mental grin, and hell, that's why I don't drink much, though I can hold it a bit. Pretty funny though. Finding a spare table, he sat down and pulled a small amount of money out of his main change-purse. His funds could barely hold out a week, but he didn't want to stretch them. Nevertheless, really needed something to calm his thoughts.

Gathering the money back into his purse and holding the price of a light drink in his hand, he ordered it from the waiter going around. He really needed a break.

Fabian woke with a hangover, in his bed to be precise, though he didn't remember, if he had gone there on his own two feet or had someone carried him. He knew, that his clothes were covered in mud, he was cold and his head hurt. Plus someone seemed to have sneaked in his room, while he was drinking. The contents of his bag had been tossed all around the place. It seemed, that his moneybag was missing. He had left it on his bed in the evening, taken a bit of money with himself, to buy drink.
A very inappropriate word escaped from Fabians lips. He searched the whole room, looked under the bed, in the corners, under and behind every piece of furniture in this place. He should have kept money with himself. Because if someone would have tried to rob him then...
He felt stupid, he left all of his items unsecure.
Fabian let out a silent moan and fell back in bed. This little searching spree had revealed, that whoever had stolen all of it, that someone left his bag and the contents of it there, after estimating their value - 4 air-tight ampuls filled with transparent liquid, an old-fashioned looking syringe, needles, a comb, a book in foreign language with the symbol of a cross and a triangle on it, plus a small bag of tobacco. The only thing gone was money. He even had his weapons, because he carried them with himself all the time.
His head hurt terribly.
There was a small, dusty mirror on the wall. He looked his face from there. Dark shadows on lower eyelid. But that was normal for him. Red hair, green, clouded eyes.
He smiled slightly. His hair was messy, skin and clothes covered in dried mud. Now he remembered, what had happened yesterday. He thought that the people were overreacting - throwing him outside like this.
He cleaned his clothes as best as he good, washed his face and hands, combed his hair, and, looking in the mirror, decided, that he looks nice enouch to leave the solitarity of his room.
Fabian pulled on the hood of his cloak, took his bag and went to the common room. He stopped and peeked in the room, to control if there are any people he would remember from yesterday, before stepping in.
It was good, that he had already paid for his room, because now he was broke. If he would have had money he wouldn't have minded a glass or two for hangover cure.
He stopped, looked through the window. He liked Tyr, but at the same time he wanted to escape from here. Scram as far as possible, because here was the place where that horrible mage lives.
Hmph. I wonder, will the innkeeper let any passing strangers to just wander into their clients rooms? That doesn't seem right. Maybe someone who works here stole my money? Would it do any good, if I'd asked it back? I could threaten them, I'm good at threatening. People won't stay here anymore, if they'd know that their things can get stolen from here. Maybe. But I don't have proofs, no-one would confess. I'll get thrown out.
His head felt as if it was being crushed between boulders. He standed there, thinking. He didn't want to get in trouble. He should get a job instead of chasing his old luck. Fabian sighed, looked around, as if a good-paying job was going to hit him in the face or something.

((There's been a death in my family.. That's why I haven't yet replied. I'm out of town right now tending to that right now.. I'll be back on Thursday.

Sorry for the hold up sad ))