No job too small
A tale freshly told of the Breefolk
Brev and Gidon discuss the sad necessity of earning a living
Stables
Stall after stall lines the walls of this small outbuilding on the south side of the Prancing Pony, confirming that this building indeed serves as a stable. Heavy solid wood, practical though not beautiful, makes up the construction of the beams and gates that keep the beasts securely locked inside. A low wooden trough runs through each of the stalls so as to provide fresh water at all times, and bales of hay rest in the corner of each stall. Two large windows on the south wall, one at the front and one at the back of the stables lie propped open with a chunk of wood, affording fresh air to the animals as well as their owners and the stable hobbit who cares for the place. The doors currently stand wide open, though a heavy iron bolt can be seen from the inside, making it fairly evident that the stable can be protected from things on the outside if necessary.
Obvious exits:
Out
================================== Bree Time ==================================
Real time: Thu Mar 04 06:06:24 2010
Bree time: Twilight <21> on Mersday of Spring - May 4,1449
Moon Phase: Full Moon
Breelands Weather
The twilight spring air is cool but pleasant around you. The night sky is clear with only slight wisps of clouds overhead.
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Dusk is come, and the lengthening shadows cluster in the nooks and crannies like cobwebs. The sky is clear, the evening pleasant - if a little chill. From within the Prancing Pony comes the sound of many voices, and Barliman\'s workers are bustling to and fro across the Inn-Yard. Here in the stables though, it is quiet - just the munching of contented animals as they make inroads on the day\'s feed. And another sound - that of a voice, speaking low and quiet in a guttural tongue that is not Common.
\"
Brev, dusty and filthy, is leaning against the wood of one of the stalls, speaking to the brown pony that goes by the name of \'Mecsan\' when the man remembers it, other less savoury things when he doesn\'t.
[Nob(#16122)] The past few days since they\'ve arrived have found Gidon at a bit of a loss. It is not so easy to slip back into old habits of life, when a year (or more!) has been spent on the new. He has been wandering around the town of Bree as if looking for something... or someone... and now, he idles into the stables. He may not have expected to find Brev here, but he shows no surprise at the man\'s presence, only saying, in careful, halting Dunael, \"You keep horse?\" And nodding at the pony in case he has gotten the words wrong.
Brev turns at the words, his features lifting into a smile at Gidon\'s attempt at Dunael. Something drops from his hand - a wizened carrot - and the brown pony makes short work of it. The beast swivels its ears toward Gidon, but then goes on with the more important business of eating (it does, after all, have a month of short rations to make up for!).
\"
It fades though as he asks, keeping to his own tongue for now, and speaking slowly and carefully, \"
[Nob(#16122)] The boy follows this, frowning as he tries to catch all the words. He misses some, but the main gist of the conversation is understood - or at least he thinks it is! But for a reply... Gidon tries a word in Dunael, \"I...\" Then gives up and switches to Common, shrugging and looking away. \"Reckon Da\'ll take th\'other beast. I - I don\' want it, an\' he got movin\' feet.\" Now he glances back and manages a bit of a smile. \"Told me this time, least.\"
Brev lifts a hand to rub at his face for a moment, usefully hiding any reaction to that last bit of information. \"He\'s off again, then?\" He too switches to sing-song Common. \"Wondered if he would.\" There is a hint of pity in his gaze he blinks and it is gone. \"And you, Gidon? What will you do now?\"
Silence follows, save for the sound of chomping pony.
[Nob(#16122)] \"Aye,\" Gidon says. But there isn\'t the anguish of pain and loss there was a year ago. He is almost peaceful about it. As he said, at least he knows - and whether he knows it or not, he has grown the past year. The silence is peaceful, the sweet smell of hay and horses comforting. Finally the boy shrugs. \"I dunno,\" he says. \"Never thought... just come home, right? Do what I always done. Only...\" Half his mouth lifts in a rueful smile. \"Don\'t seem t\'want to right yet.\"
That half-smile is echoed. \"Suppose it takes time to settle back in to a place. Wouldn\'t know, me - I\'ve never managed it.\"
The admission is cut short by a nudge from the pony, who has finished his oats and is seeking more carrots. Brev pushes away the seeking nose and tells the beast, not unkindly, \"
His focus returning to Gidon (and his speech to the Common tongue), he suggests, \"Mind yon old fellow, Harbin? Figure he\'ll be looking for someone to help him trapping. You could do worse. And I\'d suggest you help me with the carpentry, except ...\" He spreads his hands wide. \"Every time I ask folk if there\'s jobs needing done, they look at me like I\'d begged to steal their children.\" He snorts, smirks. \"Maybe I should, could hire /them/ out as a workforce.\"
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon nods consideringly, but he doesn\'t look very enthusiastic. \"Could ask,\" he says cautiously, and then his eyes widen in horrified shock. It only lasts a second before he realizes Brev is teasing, then he relaxes and grins. \"Could try,\" he says. \"Probly cry all th\'time though.\" A sudden memory flashes across his face, and he says slowly, \"You hear anything \'bout them wantin\' t\'build up that - that place yon?\" He jerks his head east.
Brev\'s mouth twitches at Gidon\'s shock. \"Suppose you\'ve a point there,\" he concedes. \"And they\'d eat, as well. Ach.\"
He too, glances east, his gaze landing on the pony. He leans across the stall door to give an absent-minded rub to the animal\'s tangled mane at the place where neck meets withers, then slowly shakes his head. \"Not a thing. Think there\'s any left to rebuild? Back home-\" The words end abruptly and there is sudden silence. The muscle in the man\'s cheek has started twitching, though he does not acknowledge it by trying to rub the betraying motion away.
[Nob(#16122)] \"Lots,\" Gidon agrees, straight-faced. Then he reverts to the other topic. \"Heard some feller in th\'Pony. Sayin\'s time an\' past t\'go build it up again. Lookin\' for folk t\'help.\" His eyes slide to the twitching muscle, then away, and he says nothing more.
Brev continues to pay attention to the pony until the beast moves away with a disapproving snort. He forces a smile. \"
By the time he\'s stepped away from the stall and looked back to Gidon, his cheek is almost still again. \"Figure they\'d pay well? You could always say there\'s this friend of yours who\'s handy with carpentry ... No need to mention I\'m not from these parts, eh? And the Ba-\" he catches himself, flashes an apologetic grin and continues, \"Mecsan here could help with haulage. Figured I\'d ask yon rabbity creature that serves the Innkeeper if they\'d hire him to shift wood.\"
[Nob(#16122)] Gidon hesitates, then looks at Brev sidelong. Then he takes a deep breath and nods. \"I - I c\'n do that. Ask \'em.\" Then he grins suddenly. \"They \'ain\'t from these parts\' neither - probly won\'t care\'s much as Breefolk.\" And almost apologetically, adds, \"Folk here - just ain\'t so used t\'others. Only passing through some, on th\'road, and ain\'t so many of them.\"
Brev, calm now restored to his features, tilts a brow up at Gidon\'s words. \"There\'s hardly so many of /me/,\" he remarks drily, then tosses the youth a lopsided smirk. \"It\'s all right. Figure your folk aren\'t as bad as back in Dunland. Least noone\'s put a blade to my neck because they don\'t fancy the colour of my cloak.\"
He snorts, and might perhaps have said more, but at that moment the stablehand returns - sure enough it is one of \'those wee rabbity creatures\'. With a grin at Gidon, Brev moves off and is soon busy asking if said hobbit would like help mucking the place out and, as he looms over the poor little fellow, \"just how much did you say you\'d pay for it? That\'d cost a silver back at home...\" Haggling commences.