28th Day of Searing, 120 AoS
[indent=20]Hungry mouths had to eat. Luckily for Arlen, there was just one. His own. But food did not come free unless he’d move to the forests and live as he once did. Which he didn’t feel up for.
[indent=20]So he found himself standing under the unforgiving searing sun with little to hide in the shadows. It was only thanks to the season that he was not due to burn to a crisp by the end of the day.
[indent=20]This job was much different from the ones of the past. But who needed a travelling convoy inside a city? So instead, he was a stall guard, paid by the gem merchant from Kamdin. Arlen got an earful of reasons for extra security earlier that day when he arrived on duty all spruced up as his employer asked.
[indent=20]“You can’t trust anyone,” the merchant told him in a hushed voice as he was setting up his stall. “Especially guards. If you don’t pay them, they owe you nothing, let alone protection. So that’s why you’re here. I pay you well so you do what you’re told. And that’s guarding this stand so that no one, no one, as much as walks away without paying the full price for these beauties,” the gem merchant lectured Arlen, casting a silk cloth across the table to lay the said beauties on.
[indent=20]The merchant had already been in Loras for a few days and would continue to travel in the days to come. Arlen understood why the extra security was needed the moment that the merchant started arranging the stones. Some were indeed enchanting beyond compare.
[indent=20]It even made sense why the merchant requested that Arlen dressed in better clothes. He wasn’t there to guard only but to uphold a certain image it seemed too.
[indent=20]So Arlen donned his tribe’s robes of silk with some leather armour and the sword at his hip just to show that he wasn’t a passerby.
[indent=20]At the start of the day, Arlen took his job very seriously. He was monitoring very much every person that approached the stand, their hands and gestures. But as the day carried on with the heat rising and nothing happening at all, his focus wavered. At some point, he started to feel more as a decoration than a man on duty.
[indent=20]His gaze wandered across the undulating crowds, keeping an eye and ear on the conversations next to him.
[indent=20]This was indeed much different to his usual job. He was missing the movement of a caravan convoy. At least in a convoy, there was a destination to get to, a goal to aim for. And the company was generally more enjoyable too.