Posted on 2007/02/14
Joe heads into town even earlier than usual and finds his way to the stables the cart owner described. He hovers in the entrance while muck piles higher in the yard and horses stamp and murmur. Finally, a small man scuttles over. “You're the new one? Right, right. This way. Right? Right.”
He scuttles off round the edge of the yard. Joe follows him to a low roofed loft tucked into the side of the main hayloft. “You still with me, right? Right, bring your stuff up here and find yourself a space on the pallets. You'll be sleeping up here. Right, right? I'll show you the horses as soon as you're done.”
Joe finds a gap with a crate at the end, dumps his sack in it and practically leaps down the ladder. The small man introduces himself as Alun, the senior stableman. With frequent repetitions of “Right, right,” he introduces Joe to the assortment of ponies and wagon horses stabled around the yard. “The Boss says you're good with troublesome horses? Right, right. We have a couple of those. And one that jumps at any excuse it can imagine.” He gestures to stand well back and then eases round to the final stable. “And then there's the Nipper. Anything you can do with him will be appreciated.” He points into the final, closed, stall. Joe peers into the gloom, catches a glimpse of furious dark eyes, a grey mane and flying hooves, just before a lump of muck-laden straw comes flying over the half door and hits him in the face…
Posted on 2007/02/22
Ten days after Joe arrives at the stables, Alun calls everyone into the yard and gloomily tells them, “Our Jessie has run off again. Right? Right, today, it's blue dress and blond plaits. You know all the usual places - check them please.”
As they scatter to peer into stalls and rumage in corners, Joe asks the nearest stableman who Jessie is. The man, Mark, says dryly, “She's Alun's six year old daughter and she has more whim than sense. Just at the moment she thinks it's the best thing in the world to run off and hide with the animals. Any animals. I be glad when she moves on to something else.”
Joe nods agreement and begins checking the awkward horses he has been working with over the days, trying to keep the general fuss from affecting them too badly - and looking in all the corners for a small girl as he goes.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Nobody anywhere that shouldn't be there.
He finally makes his way down to Nipper's stall, tensed to duck the usual hail of straw and dung. But this time, there is no reaction except an occasional clatter of hooves against stone. Then, above the clatter, he hears a faint whimper and looking up into the rafters, he can just make out a small blue outline clinging to the beams above Nipper's stall…
Posted on 2007/02/28
Joe drags his eyes away from the small girl in her blue dress, looks round for help and sees that no-one is anywhere near. They're too busy looking round outside for her.
He doesn't dare leave her hanging above Nipper, so he takes a deep breath, swallows several times and lifts a coil of rope down from the wall.
Carefully tying several slip knots and sliding loops into the rope, he takes another deep breath and moves towards Nipper's stall. It takes him almost a minute to wrestle the stiff bolts open and ease the stall door ajar, all the while trying to keep one eye on Jessie. Then, as soon as the door moves, Nipper slams his hooves into it.
Joe barely twists out of the way in time to stay on his feet and doesn't manage to get the rope anywhere near Nipper's hammering hooves. He tries again, this time edging half a step into the stall. He's ready for the flying muck that comes at him, ducks, and whips a sliding loop around the nearest hoof. The other hoof slams out and catches him across the shins.
Swearing creatively under his breath, Joe twists the rope around Nipper's front legs, ties it onto the halter and leaps back. Nipper tries to kick out again and pulls his own front legs out from under his body. He falls in a furious, thrashing ball of teeth and hair.
Joe snatches up the loose end of the rope while Nipper is occupied standing back up and then hauls the hobbled pony out of his stall and knots him firmly to the nearest tethering ring.
Finally, he climbs up onto Nipper's stone manger and transfers Jessie from beam to floor. Only when he has returned her to her father does he remember that he still has to put Nipper back into his stall - and that it won't be nearly so easy as getting him out…
Posted on 2007/03/07
It takes three of them to get Nipper back into his stall and all of them end up with bruises by the time they are done. Finally, Joe slams the bolt on the stall door and follows the other two back out into the yard.
As they go, Mark tells Joe dryly, “Don't know how you manged to move him by yourself - you didn't even have any tools!”
Joe shrugs. “It needed doing, so I kind of - improvised.”
“Well, next time you have to improvise, can I watch? Might learn something.”
“Sure.” Joe shrugs uncomfortably. “Come along and watch me thrown all over the place, why don't you. Don't bother to help.”
Mark laughs. “Beats a humdrum routine!”
The rest of the day winces past as muscles stiffen and bruises start to really hurt. When Joe comes into the stable area the next day, Alun stops him and thanks him effusively for getting Jessie away from Nipper. He adds, “I couldn't help hearing what you said to Mark about having to improvise. I'd like you to have this set of grooming tools as a sort of extra thanks - so you don't get thrown around too often.”
Joe takes the tools and stammers out his own thanks. He's dreamed of a set like this since he was 6 years old. Having your own set of work tools means independence. It means you're qualified to work without supervision. It means adulthood!
Alun shakes his head and sends him off to see if he can find out why one of the horses is lame.
Joe reverently lays out the tools beside the stall and lifts the affected hoof. After cleaning out the dirt, he tilts it to the light and sees something wedged deep in a crevice. Something that gleams red…
Posted on 2007/03/16
When Joe finally manages to prise the gleam out, he finds that it isn't quite as red as it first seemed. It's nearer pink and shaped rather like a stone needle. No wonder the horse was lame with that wedged in there!
He cleans out the rest of the hoof with no further problems and drops the stone in his pocket until he can ask someone about it. Rolling up his set of tools and cradling them under one arm, he moves on to his usual work of taming and training the difficult horses.
Finally, with a spare hour to spend and a midday meal to find, he wanders out to the market and browses through the food stalls.
A short distance away, a gem merchant is scolding his apprentice, “…and don't you dare drop this set like you did the rose quartz! I have a good mind to…” He goes on to outline likely punishments with incredible, continuous detail, and finishes, “I don't know why I ever bothered to take on such a stupid, clumsy fool as an apprentice…”
Joe picks out a still warm loaf of bread and hands over the necessary coppers. “Something gone wrong, I gather?” he says, tilting his head towards the gem merchant.
The stall holder grins. “Fool of an apprentice managed to shatter an entire slab of quartz on the cobbles. Pink shards everywhere. He still hasn't found them all, and they're sharp, so watch where you step.”
Joe thanks him and wanders away, munching his bread. Digging out the pink stone needle, he tosses it lightly in his hand and wonders how badly the merchant wants to collect all the shards…
Posted on 2007/03/23
Joe tosses the stone a couple more times and then shoves it back in his pocket. According to the temple chimes, he still has a quarter hour before he has to be back at the stables, so he wanders back into the market.
Going up to the merchant's stall between customers, he says, “I gather you lost some quartz?”
The merchant replies without looking up, “If you're wanting to complain that you've hurt your foot on a shard, go take it out on the fool apprentice.”
“I wasn't, actually.” Joe holds up the pink stone between thumb and forefinger as the merchant raises his head. “I actually thought you might be wanting this back. My mistake.” He delibarately starts to turn away, but stops and turns back when the merchant cries, “Wait!”
The merchant straightens up and says, “If you're really wanting to trade I can do that, but I've had so many complaints…” He looks hard at Joe. “Aren't you the one who spotted that fire in the warehouses?”
Joe nods, wondering what that has to do with this.
“You stopped the fire reaching my stock,” the merchant tells him. “Look, I'll trade you a good cloak pin for that crystal. That do?”
Joe shrugs. “I don't have time to haggle right now. I have to get back shortly.”
“Then bring it over tomorrow and I'll make you a bargain.”
“Deal.”
Joe hurries back to the stables and gets on with his work. He even gets Nipper to come when he's called, once, though the pest won't stay within reach. When he goes back to the gem merchant next day, the merchant is waiting for him.
“Here,” he says, holding out a large bronze cloak brooch. “I'll trade you this for that bit of quartz. You can't say fairer than that.”
Joe digs out the stone needle and compares the two. The brooch is far bigger and more elaborate than the quartz shard. More useful, too. “It's a deal,” he says, handing over the shard and picking up the brooch.
The merchant smiles. “You're welcome.”
Only after he has moved away, does Joe realise that the surface of the brooch has been engraved with an image of him fighting the fire. Except, he's doing it alone. Just as if he was some sort of hero…
Posted on 2007/03/31
Joe hides the brooch in his belt pouch before he returns to the stables. The animals seem unusually restless all day and as the sun goes down, Joe catches sight of red eyes peering out of every corner and muffled squeals of protest. Easing a knife free, he walks down the line trying to see what all the fuss is about.
He reaches Nipper's stall at the far end, and is just about to turn back when a gigantic rat comes scrambling over Nipper's half closed door, helped on its way by a flying hoof. Joe has no intention of letting vermin that size anywhere near him, so he hurls the dagger he's holding at it and grabs for another one.
The thrown dagger catches the dire rat in the side, but doesn't stop it scrambling to its paws and advancing on Joe, who has nowhere to back up to. He edges sideways towards the opposite stall, fumbling out a backup dagger with his free hand and wishing he'd practised drawing them faster. A second throw skids past the rat's other side and is almost half buried by the smaller, more ordinary rats now racing under the stall doors. Nipper's hooves slam into his door and he screams defiance. Joe takes a deep breath as the dire rat charges him, bracing his back against the wall and thrusting a dagger out in front of him. The rat's yellow teeth snag in his padded coat. As it tries to get free, Joe slams the dagger home and shakes off the dead body. In front of him, rats are pouring out of the stables and heading for the market square. He retrieves one dagger from the dead dire rat, cleans it and gazes after the one that missed. The swarm of rats is thinning, and Joe risks stomping his way towards it. Looking over the door into Nipper's stall, he can see that the pony is surrounded by circle of dead rats. As Joe watches, Nipper lets fly at two more and wheels on a third as if he had been trained to fight rather than to work. Joe files that thought for future reference and concentrates on stomping rats.
By the time he has retrieved his last dagger and worked his way back to the entrance, he finds the rest of the stable workers shoving the remains of the rat swarm out into the market square using a mixture of pitchforks, brooms and clubs. Out in the square, a vivid splash of light highlights four armed figures warily circling a fifth, faster, more feral humanoid. The rat swarm races straight for the fifth figure and joins 2 other swarms in a swirl of fur and defensive fangs.
Alun joins Joe at the entrance just as the fifth figure turns into a puff of smoke and floats away. “Oh,” he says. “It's a bunch of blasted adventurers. Why can't they keep civilised hours and leave honest folks to make their living?”
Joe shrugs. He thinks he recognises the caster who made his mug run away in the middle of the group, but he keeps watching until an annoyed guard patrol descends on the group. Then he turns away and begins to settle the animals for the night, for the second time…
This game is DMed by Heros_Backpack from the wizards.com boards. He holds the copyright to all content.
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