Your… trade skills? You always get a little uncomfortable when the T-word pops into your head.
Suffice to say, your childhood was not full of encouragement, your adolescence was not full of employment, and your adulthood has not been full of success. Each one sort of led into the next, which is to say “nowhere”. It’s one of the things you’re hoping to fix in your new life. Someday, you’ll be good at something. Or even just adequate at it. It would make you so happy.
But for the time being you’re pretty much worthless. I mean, you know a pretty interesting party trick involving a yoyo and a pineapple, but… it’s not appropriate for most parties.
You think it’s supposed to be a bag of swords, but you’re not sure. It’s pretty much the worst sign you’ve ever seen. You can barely read it.
If you need some quick cash later maybe you can offer to redesign it.
Right now, however, your best bet for steady employment seems to be the restaurant. And hey, you’re Cyrodiillian now, may as well get to know the locals.
You head in. This place is pretty nice, you guess. Sort of homey.
The proprietor is some kind of elf. There’s like a billion kinds of elves, you can never keep them straight. He welcomes you to The Flowing Bowl and asks if you would like to see a menu.