Just a few days back in Daggerfall and I find myself visiting the local guildhalls looking for work once more.  A purse of gold doesn’t seem to last as long as it once did, especially once I had replaced armour, sharpened my sword, bought myself a horse, and spent… wasted… enjoyed a few lively evenings at the overpriced Rosy Lion inn; it is almost alchemy how these Breton innkeepers can turn ale that tastes like gnats piss into gold.

Thankfully between the local guilds, and listening to plenty of tavern gossip, work is not in short supply for a man who keeps his blades sharp.

S.K