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[h3]Bristdale Markets- Mid Afternoon
Galvennius-[/h3]

     Gal had not been in Bristdale long, having only reached the port city in the early hours of the morning.  A poor stroke of luck, and an ill-fate had fallen upon his shoulders.  It was not as bad as it was for his employer, or previous employer, rather.  Captain Morrows had met his fate nearly a month and a half ago, a terrible accident it had been.  The aft mast had snapped in half and it would've surely crushed the man, had it not impaled him first.  He was accustomed to seeing such things in his lengthy career at sea, however he was not accustomed to losing his best friend.  They had sailed together for over a decade.  Neither of them had ever been accused of being pure souls, but as far as pirates went, they were about as pure as they came.  
     
     The rest of the crew expected him to pick up the title of captain and continue on as if nothing had happened, but something in him just would not allow him to do so.  He was more than qualified and capable, but it just wasn't in him, not now, not after such a loss.  Luckily for him this past trip had been lucrative enough that he wouldn't need to worry about seeking employment for at least a while.  He had drank most of the morning away, and the rum and sweltering heat had all but defeated him already.  One hand propped against his head and covered an eye as the other toyed with the small cup, now seasoned sweetly with the spiced rum and sticky around the rim.  It was said that a sailor would drink like this when coming in from a long voyage, just to help their sea legs get acclimated to terrain that didn't roll beneath their feet.  Though this was not the reason for his drinking this day.  
     
     The bottle that had been set before him had all but dried up by this time.  He pulled his hand from his face and grabbed the neck of it, pouring the last of it in his cup.  He returned the bottle to the table and twirled the glass about in contemplation.  He was surely lost without his best mate Morrows.  Lost indeed, as a ship without stars or compass to guide it.  His life now a vast ocean of uncertainty.  He swung himself around on his newfound perch that was his stool and watched the others around him half consciously.  They were a motley bunch, and surly at that. He had been to Bristdale  many times prior to this, and he was somewhat glad that nothing had changed.  Even in his own current predicament he was not as sour as this lot was.  He almost felt sorry for them, but at the same time he took comfort in the familiarity of it all.  

     His stool rotated once more as he gazed out the door of the less than desirable establishment, his hand still clasped around the cup of rum. He could see across the street to the open markets.  Bristdale was known for having some of the best markets, it had this if nothing else. One could acquire just about anything the heart desired, if the coin was right.  People carried on and bustled about from stall to stall, vendor to vendor. One of which was directly across from him, selling sweetloaves and rolls and the likes.  It seemed busy, as did most of the market. He watched them for a while, lost in his own thoughts, a sort of limbo.  A [i]void[/i].. He saw them, all the patrons as they bought up the breads and sweets the man had been selling. He had also seen a young woman, who looked to be a bit down on her luck, as she had been tossed aside as she fell and lost her coin.  He watched as she crawled away, defeated and shamed.

     He put the cup to his lips and tossed back the spiced liquid, wincing as he did. He reached down to his coin purse and produced a few coin, which he tossed aimlessly on the bar.  He stood and gripped the edge of it as he got his feet under him and tried to focus his gait before venturing further.  He crossed the street, barely able to keep one foot in line with the other, but he did manage to make it.  He pushed his way through the small gathering of patrons and they were all disgruntled by this, though none challenged him as he drew his dagger and slammed it's point down into the planks of the table..  

    [i] [color=f7941d]"Three please.."[/color][/i]  He said as he pointed to a few sweet rolls, his voice was stern and to the point.

      The man was quick to produce them, wrapping them in a small bit of cloth and passing them to Gal. As he did Gal then produced a suitable payment tossing it everywhere on the vendors stall and walked away. his shoulder planted directly into another patron's, nearly knocking the man off his feet.  Gal smirked and found a tiny morsel of joy in it.  He took to the same direction as the young woman, though he had not kept an eye on where exactly she had gone off to.  It wasn't long, or far though, before he had found her.. Hovelled up and nearly cowering from the others that passed by.  He knelt, and fell a bit as he did.. still unused to the stationary ground, and the rum. He took solace in the bit of shade he found there between the buildings. He extended the bundle to the poor girl, offering it to her.

     [i] [color=f7941d]"Might want to eat  a little something before you waste away.."[/color][/i]  He said, offering a half crooked smile along with the bread.  [color=f7941d][i]"Bristdale isn't the place for scrawny birds you know.."[/i][/color]