[i]The Legion giveth, the Legion taketh away.[/i] Kaeli had made a killing over the past couple of days, what with all of the minor repairs. It had scarcely been challenging work - not for one more accustomed to working on the machines of yore - but it had put more coin in her purse than anything else she'd done in this town - the people paid mostly in eggs, bread, and mead. Still, the legion had deprived her of her fountain. Every day, for the past two months, she'd perched on its lip, partly to place herself closer to eye level, and partly because restoring it had become something of a pet project. Every day, she'd sat there and offered her repair and appraisal services to passerby and actually made enough to live on. Kaeli felt that she'd claimed the old fountain, at least to the point that some of the townspeople had more or less come to expect her there, but perhaps that was an Elven conceit: the idea that your space was your own to the exclusion of others.

Of course, the irrational bit of resentment - they'd given her far more than two days worth of regular business - didn't stop the elf from availing herself of the free food. She'd even considered joining up and hitching a ride out of town, but then there was the 'able bodied' stipulation. [i]Legs must be so convenient[/i], she grumbles inwardly, making her way through a gaggle of curious onlookers. She doesn't see much but knees, thighs, crotches, and glimpses of grey sky when she glances upward. She slips between the moving bodies, paying careful attention to the placement of her hands. It wouldn't do to get them stepped on. Her hands are everything, and the fact that this town is mostly paved is half of the reason why she's stayed here so long. [i]It's nice not to be all muddy for once.[/i] Nonetheless, she's been feeling the itch to continue on to a larger city, one where she might be able to find more of use and work with some dignity.

Eventually, Kaeli finds her way out of what is actually quite a small crowd and remembers a nearby building with a decent-sized ledge and an awning, only to find that a traveling courier has already set himself up over there, his sign - replete with misspellings - posted up behind him. She looks around the square. There's the upcoming hanging, of course, all the better to remind people of who makes the rules. Kaeli avoids looking at the magic user. Anyone who can break the natural laws of the world and has been backed into a corner is not safe to be around. The Legion recruiters are taking advantage of the spectacle: a bearded man on a mule has just signed up and there are sure to be others. One of the recruiters is regaling the townspeople with a tale that Kaeli supposes is good. She's been living among humans for some time now and even aping their behaviours, but understanding what actually makes them tick is not as easy as imitating that ticking. 

No more than a dozen people are lounging around over in the Boar while a bard plays a soft tune. Kaeli generally avoids anything stronger than the occasional glass of wine. She glances down a couple of roards to see if interesting folk filtering into the square, and spots a spidery-looking Carnelian. [i]You're as rare a creature as I[/i], she muses. Her eyes rove one more time across the loose gathering of mostly-cloaked figures and then they stop. [i]That one. She's an elf.[/i] It's subtle, but Kaeli can tell by the way that she walks. Your ability to recognize your own people is magnified in a place where they're so few among so many.

The hour is growing later and the shadows would be getting long if there were any on a day like this. Kaeli does not like executions, but she does like money. She scoots up to the courier and asks him a question: "Sorry to bother you, sir, but just how much weight can you carry in that bag of yours?"