Post by Cadfan on Jan 19, 2020 22:39:39 GMT
Cadfan played with one of his last gold coins in his room at the Three-Headed Ettin. Flicking it, watching it spin in place, grinding into the wood on the table in his bedroom. The room was small enough that he could spread his arms out and touch both walls with his elbows. He’d been in worse.
The coin started to lose momentum so he applied a quit flick to help it keep spinning.
Ten gold coins. All he had to his name after paying for passage to here from Baldur’s Gate.
Leaving the city had been Finuk’s suggestion. After the last group that had come chasing Cadfan’s head, he’d sat him down and with a dwarvish brogue told him about a continent over the sea. Kantas, ‘The New World.’ A land for explorers, adventurers, and entrepreneurs. None of those titles he himself would claim.
But after some debate he’d agreed. Finuk had taught him how to live on the streets. Make money in less… civil ways. He hadn’t steered him wrong yet. If there was anyone he could trust other than his father, it was him.
And besides, maybe a fresh start would help him escape from his paranoia.
He’d had enough of looking over his shoulder everywhere he went. Doubting whether or not he could trust anyone. Running from bounty hunters spurred on by petty money. All of it had driven him here, to a place where hopefully the baron wouldn’t find him.
Even still, the odd glances every now and then from a resident of Daring Heights still had him looking for an exit and with one hand at his scabbard.
The coin stopped spinning, hitting the table with a clang.
Now that he was here though, what was he supposed to do. Just survive?
With his pouch this empty, he’d fail that goal sooner rather than later.
Finuk would have had a job in mind already, found some poor sap with a loose pouch or no locks on their house. But that wasn’t Cadfan. He couldn’t just rob anyone.
Baldur’s Gate has at least had people who had deserved to have their things taken from them. The kind who would look at beggars on the streets and plot ways to get rid of them rather than help them.
Daring Heights seemed fairer in that regard at first glance, but time would truly tell.
Cadfan ran his hand through his dirty hair. He needed something that would occupy his buzzing mind, keep his belly full, and secure himself a place to sleep for at least a few weeks more. There had to be some semblance of honest work here for someone without employment.
He wandered down to the main room of the tavern. Bustling with all sorts. The kind you’d hear of in bard’s tales, and in this kind of establishment even some of the bards themselves were included in those tales.
He glanced at the job wall for adventurers.
He stopped and scratched his chin. He may not have considered himself an adventurer, but it couldn’t be that different from the jobs he’d run back in Baldur’s Gate? Some of them had even required a blade or two. Maybe he could keep himself afloat in Daring Heights by taking one here and there?
Pushing through the crowd, he found himself looking at a posting that looked untouched.
“Hello,
My Family is sick and...”
He read through the entire posting, not daring to skip over a single detail. A child’s family in danger, a child powerless to help. It all felt too familiar.
There was no promise of payment. No promise of any reward. But he couldn't live with himself if he declined this request.
Sighing, he patted his pouch. Ten gold coins would have to do for now.
The coin started to lose momentum so he applied a quit flick to help it keep spinning.
Ten gold coins. All he had to his name after paying for passage to here from Baldur’s Gate.
Leaving the city had been Finuk’s suggestion. After the last group that had come chasing Cadfan’s head, he’d sat him down and with a dwarvish brogue told him about a continent over the sea. Kantas, ‘The New World.’ A land for explorers, adventurers, and entrepreneurs. None of those titles he himself would claim.
But after some debate he’d agreed. Finuk had taught him how to live on the streets. Make money in less… civil ways. He hadn’t steered him wrong yet. If there was anyone he could trust other than his father, it was him.
And besides, maybe a fresh start would help him escape from his paranoia.
He’d had enough of looking over his shoulder everywhere he went. Doubting whether or not he could trust anyone. Running from bounty hunters spurred on by petty money. All of it had driven him here, to a place where hopefully the baron wouldn’t find him.
Even still, the odd glances every now and then from a resident of Daring Heights still had him looking for an exit and with one hand at his scabbard.
The coin stopped spinning, hitting the table with a clang.
Now that he was here though, what was he supposed to do. Just survive?
With his pouch this empty, he’d fail that goal sooner rather than later.
Finuk would have had a job in mind already, found some poor sap with a loose pouch or no locks on their house. But that wasn’t Cadfan. He couldn’t just rob anyone.
Baldur’s Gate has at least had people who had deserved to have their things taken from them. The kind who would look at beggars on the streets and plot ways to get rid of them rather than help them.
Daring Heights seemed fairer in that regard at first glance, but time would truly tell.
Cadfan ran his hand through his dirty hair. He needed something that would occupy his buzzing mind, keep his belly full, and secure himself a place to sleep for at least a few weeks more. There had to be some semblance of honest work here for someone without employment.
He wandered down to the main room of the tavern. Bustling with all sorts. The kind you’d hear of in bard’s tales, and in this kind of establishment even some of the bards themselves were included in those tales.
He glanced at the job wall for adventurers.
He stopped and scratched his chin. He may not have considered himself an adventurer, but it couldn’t be that different from the jobs he’d run back in Baldur’s Gate? Some of them had even required a blade or two. Maybe he could keep himself afloat in Daring Heights by taking one here and there?
Pushing through the crowd, he found himself looking at a posting that looked untouched.
“Hello,
My Family is sick and...”
He read through the entire posting, not daring to skip over a single detail. A child’s family in danger, a child powerless to help. It all felt too familiar.
There was no promise of payment. No promise of any reward. But he couldn't live with himself if he declined this request.
Sighing, he patted his pouch. Ten gold coins would have to do for now.