http://waytoomanynames.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
waytoomanynames.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandomtownies2008-09-28 08:20 am
waytoomanynames.livejournal.com) wrote in fandomtownies2008-09-28 08:20 am
Entry tags:
- $gig,
- firekeeper,
- minsc,
- rosie
The Gig, Saturday afternoon
Rosie was feeling very doubtful as she stood in the middle of the small stables. There were three horses peering at her, slightly worriedly, and one standing by her shoulder, and she wasn't sure, but she thought she might be in shock.
It was the only explanation for the fact that she felt like she was floating. Bold, the black horse at her shoulder, had been patiently explaining things to her for most of the day. Right now, she was stuck on the lights that came on when you touched part of the wall. And the lack of a pump or a well - water gushed out of a tap when you turned the handle.
Is she all right?
Give her time. This is all new to her.
Remember when you were a foal and you saw your first human.
Poor thing.
That snapped Rosie out of it, and she scowled, then nodded once firmly. She had responsibilities, the owner of this -- she struggled for a word -- establishment, whoever he might be, had entrusted it to her.
In a few hours, the horses were turned out, the stalls were clean, and there was a sign prominently displayed where it could be seen from the road.
The Gig
Horses for hire.
Horse-leech (vet) in residence.
Blacksmithing by appointment.
The word 'vet' had been added at Bold's insistence.
Satisfied, Rosie took a seat on an upturned barrel where she could watch the road and started carving a spindle end. The smooth slide of the knife through the wood was soothing and it meant she didn't have to think.
[Open, of course! You can see both Rosie and the sign from the road. The buildings have always been here, just no one noticed, and they're at the edge of the wooded area. If you want a job, Rosie might just give you one. Info about The Gig is here.]
It was the only explanation for the fact that she felt like she was floating. Bold, the black horse at her shoulder, had been patiently explaining things to her for most of the day. Right now, she was stuck on the lights that came on when you touched part of the wall. And the lack of a pump or a well - water gushed out of a tap when you turned the handle.
Is she all right?
Give her time. This is all new to her.
Remember when you were a foal and you saw your first human.
Poor thing.
That snapped Rosie out of it, and she scowled, then nodded once firmly. She had responsibilities, the owner of this -- she struggled for a word -- establishment, whoever he might be, had entrusted it to her.
In a few hours, the horses were turned out, the stalls were clean, and there was a sign prominently displayed where it could be seen from the road.
Horses for hire.
Horse-leech (vet) in residence.
Blacksmithing by appointment.
The word 'vet' had been added at Bold's insistence.
Satisfied, Rosie took a seat on an upturned barrel where she could watch the road and started carving a spindle end. The smooth slide of the knife through the wood was soothing and it meant she didn't have to think.
[Open, of course! You can see both Rosie and the sign from the road. The buildings have always been here, just no one noticed, and they're at the edge of the wooded area. If you want a job, Rosie might just give you one. Info about The Gig is here.]