[i]Bruma, 20th of First Seed[/i]

There were a very few things that Aud had gleaned how to read and write over the course of her short life. One of them was her name.

But simply writing her name wasn't enough for her to apply to a guild, and so she'd gone to the inn and payed out a few coins from her meager purse to a studious-looking fellow to write down her application as she dictated to him. There were a few words and phrases she'd had to repeat, as he'd apparently had issue parsing through her rather thick Solstheim accent, but she hoped it was mostly alright. She didn't have any way to be [i]sure[/i], of course, but she didn't see a reason for him to lie to her. 

She wriggled out of her small, low tent, breathing deep and savoring the chill in the air. It was getting warmer, now, during the day. Too warm for her tastes, really, and during the summer, she knew it would get much worse from her brief stint at the Fighter's Guild in Cheydinhal. Still, she'd always been an early riser. Had to, really, to get a full day of hunting in. And so she was still able to shiver gently as the sunrise bled over the peaks of the Jeralls, and was reminded that she was alive.

[i]Today the list goes up,[/i] she thought, throwing on her cloak and tossing the quiver of spears over her shoulder in a single fluid motion. [i]I hope I make it in. I can hunt my food and make my repairs alone, but companionship is a different matter. It'll be a hard year if I don't find some soon.[/i] 

She sighed. The fact that she couldn't read or write was a black mark pretty much everywhere she'd tried to fit in since she'd left the Skaal. She didn't expect much out of this one either. Still, what was another guild's rejection when she'd been rejected already, or found them too far removed from her tastes? If she was rejected--the likely outcome--she would keep moving on, as she always had. She caught herself fidgeting with the dagger hung around her neck, and hastily crammed it down her tunic. No sense in freely advertising something so valuable, and so precious to her.

The walls of Bruma loomed above her as she trudged onto the road, then into the city, her thick fur-and-leather books shuffling through the thin layer of snow. Ignoring the quizzical looks that came her way--you'd think that the people of Bruma had never seen a woman carrying six spears walk through their city in Skaal clothing and a backpack that clanked with the muted sound of metal--she continued her walk unabated, headed towards a noticeboard around which was clustered a...rather diverse set of characters. Argonians she was more used to, as some had occasionally come from Morrowind to Solstheim and she'd spied them from afar while hunting, but the mere existence of khajiit as a people still held surprise for her, not least in the way they spoke.

Shouldering none-too-gently through the small gaggle of people and shoving her way between the khajiit and a Nord woman significantly smaller than her own considerable bulk, she stepped up to the board, scanning down the list. She couldn't actually [i]read[/i] much of it, of course, but the depiction of a crossed sword and shield had her reasonably convinced that it was what she was there for, and she was rewarded midway down the list with one of those very few things that she could read: [i]Aud Longspear[/i]

She let out a breath that she didn't know she'd been holding, and spoke more quietly than those around her, in her husky, heavily accented voice:

"Well, I'll be damned."