Sacripant chomped the bread that hunger at last compelled him to buy at one of the many stalls on the street. It was surprisingly tasty, though Sacripant found he had to make a concerted effort not to wonder what the ingredients might have been. The sound of music struck his ears.
"...And the King did come, saying 'what does ail you my lady? Your eyes they look so dim, your eyes they look so dim'..." sang the pretty young woman playing a small harp. Sacripant smiled. That was another thing that was everywhere in Talossa, during the day--musicians. They played old songs, and were paid by passer-bys. They all seemed to stay a certain distance from each other, following some strange code that the Marsh Erl didn't even claim to fathom.
They were, as a rule, quite good at it. He could understand why people lived here, when he passed them. A group of cheerful children skipped by Sacripant, jostling him slightly. He gave a forebearing chuckle. He had to admit, this wasn't such a bad place on the whole...
He stopped. His hand had idly gone into his cloak, as he did every so often, and not felt the familiar weight of his coin purse. He checked again.
It was definitely gone.
Sighing he turned around and headed back down the streets, eyes looking for the children who'd jostled him.
Who he couldn't see now.
Damn it. This was becoming one of these days. He nodded. He would just have to head back to his host's house and...
He then realized that he had no real idea what street he was on, exactly.
Damn it again. He attempted to tell himself that things could not get worse.
That was when a bird shat upon his cloak.
Damn it yet again.