Solo Step by Step

[Rosela]

Timestamp: 14th of Fall, 512AV Lazily, Rosela picked the bread away from the crust of her toast, popping each morsel into her mouth. Plain bread and butter, again. She started to nibble on the crust, but gave it up as too plain and let it drop to the plate. She missed the soft breads of Ahnatep, and the jams, and the juices. She would be reclining on the chaise, freshly baked bread in one hand, napkin in another, sweet fruit juice in a third. The sound of the mailman slipping an envelope into her box startled her, and she sat up curiously. She’d slid into a recline on her hard wooden chair, lost in memory. She wasn’t expecting any letters, so what could she have gotten? The horrible thought that it may be a letter from her parents came through, but the true realization hit her as she stood. The council’s notice. It had only been a few days before she’d turned in her business plan for Red Diamond Fashions, and she’d managed to forget about it for the first time. The day after she’d submitted it, she’d been on pins and needles every time she saw someone pass her cloudy window. Now, the moment had finally arrived. Popping open her front door, she snatched the letter from the box and rushed back inside. The moment of truth. Had they rejected her? They might have. Riverfall didn’t have any other decent clothing stores, but maybe that was for a reason. She stared at the wax seal of the letter as she gripped it between two hands, crinkling the parchment under her fingers. What if they had accepted her? She’d be…rich. The thought spurred her, and three hands were pulling apart the envelope immediately. The few passerbys outside heard a shout of triumph from the small cottage. Inside, Rosela was dancing wildly, waving the paper in one hand. As she spun, the small candles lighting the room blurred and turned into stacks of mizas. It was happening, finally. Her shop, her very own clothing store. Stumbling to a stop, she pushed her hair out of her face and got her bearings. She was still in her dank, ugly cottage, but not for long. There was a busy day ahead and she needed to plan. Her original business plan was included with the letter, as well as a certificate for the amount that could be billed to the Council. She was already calculating where to go and when as she cleaned away her breakfast. It seemed out of the question that she might not get everything done that very day.

[Rosela]

There weren’t many real estate agents in the city, but she only needed one. She’d already visited the vacant buildings days ago, in a fit of impatience, so it was just a matter of finding the agent, and insisting he tell her about it. As it happened, the man in question was an unusually short, lean Akalak, who blushed violet from the moment she hooked one of her arms in his, and the whole way to the building. “Well, let’s see. It’s a nice two-room cottage-style building, ideal for a small business. There are a few closets opposite to the front desk that can serve as changing rooms, if you take she shelves out? And the spacious back room would make a nice work room.” The violet had faded and he was in full sale mode as he showed her around, while Rosela struggled with herself not to rush it. She knew exactly what she was doing with every square inch of the place, and didn’t need him to tell her. She forced her breathing to remain even, and kept one hip cocked noncommittally. She wanted him to make an effort to sell it to her, maybe even with a discount. ”How much then? For the building?” She tossed her hair and tried to look apprehensive. “600 gold mizas. Now I know it seems like a lot-” ”600? Wow, that is…a lot.” Sticking out her bottom lip in frustration, she went for the helpless look. “It does come with the front desk included? And the shelves?” ”I know…” One arm reached up to brush her hair off her neck and two others crossed under her chest, discreetly emphasizing. ”Does it come with a sign?” she asked almost plaintively. She saw his eyes bounce up and down her torso out of the corner of her eye. “I, um, a sign?” Rosela turned to look at him sideways, tilting her head so the morning sun cut across the horizon to put her features in their best light. Belatedly, and tellingly, the young man jerked his head away and looked out the window to the empty hook above the door. “Oh, a store sign. I…it doesn’t normally come with anything out there…” ”Oh,” she sighed plaintively. ”I’m sorry, I thought…My mistake. I thought I saw that offered somewhere in the brochure.” She blushed in depressed frustration and put the back of one hand to her cheek, two arms still under her bosom. The Akalak’s eyes bounced down again and he twisted his notebook anxiously. “Say, listen,” he said lowly as he licked his lips. “My cousin owns a woodworking shop. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind putting together a little something for you? To, you know, celebrate your new business. Not every day we get such a lovely…shop, in town.” ”Really?” She jumped around, being sure to bounce a little extra. ”You’d ask him for me? Oh, aren’t you just a doll!” Bounding over, she threw all six arms around his shoulders and crushed him into her chest. She gave herself a satisfied smirk in the window reflection as a single tremor went through him. He stumbled briefly as she released him, fumbling awkwardly with his notebook. “I, ahem, don’t…mention it.” Still smiling broadly, Rosela wrapped two hands around his upper arm and pulled out one of her papers. ”So it’s called Red Diamond Fashions, right? I was thinking an outline of a gem here and then the name down below…” By mid-morning, she was leaving the sign shop with emphatic waves and blown kisses. She had the deed to her very own building, and a pretty little sign that would be delivered before dinner time. Tucking the deed into her shuffle of papers, she strutted away. OOCI know the sign technically already comes with the purchase of a small building, but I wanted to have a little fun with it.

[Rosela]

Despite the woodworker’s offer that she get her furniture from him, Rosela already had the place she wanted in mind. Instead of being a general wood shop, it was a furniture store, and seemed to sell a wide variety of quality. At the woodworker’s, chairs would have had no padding, and her future customers had to be comfortable while in them. Whether tortured husbands dragged out for a fitting session, or fidgety children who couldn’t be trusted to wander alone, it would pay to have a couple comfortable places to sit. With a second thought on the latter, she briefly considered banning children from her shop. The idea, while inspired, was forced to pass with a resigned practicality as she approached the open door of the furniture store. As much as it would make her life easier, children were revered in Riverfall, and she wouldn’t make any friends by banning them. “Welcome, miss!” A middle aged Akalak with broad, rough hands greeted her as soon as she walked through the door. Tucking a polishing rag into his pocket, he moved quickly to her side. “What can I help you with today? A nice, plush armchair perhaps? Something to relax in after a hard day?” His amicable nature was infectious, and Rosela found it hard to turn the mood to a flirtatious one. ”I’m looking for a couple things actually.” She brandished the approval letter from the council, with their loan seal at the top, and smiled as his eyebrows rose in surprise. “Congratulations,” he said honestly. “A clothing store, hm? My wife’s always complaining about having to go to the Warrens for clothes. So, what is it you’ll be needing then?” Rosela cleared her throat politely and turned the paper to read from her business plan. ”A work table, three decent chairs, two clothing racks, a large mirror, and a mannequin.” He held his chin for a moment, considering her list. “I can help you with most of that, but you’ll have to try somewhere else for the mirror and the mannequin. I have some small mirrors, but probably not what you’re looking for, and definitely no mannequins. Nothing really comes to mind as to where you might find one of those…” His eyes grew distant as he thought and Rosela shifted deliberately to bring his attention back to her. ”So, about the rest of it?” “Ah yes. Work table, chairs, and…?” ”Two clothing racks.” “To display the stuff on, I suppose? I don’t have anything built right now, but I could whip up a couple just for you. Here, we’ll modify a couple of these open-door wardrobes. Come on back; we’ll fix them up together.” He gave her another friendly wink, and Rosela kept a twitch of irritation from showing. ”Oh, I don’t want to get in your way… You can just-” “Nonsense, furniture is like, like clothing! It looks best with a personal touch.” She offered a polite laugh as she reluctantly followed him to the back of the store. Her entire day’s schedule would be thrown off if he took too long. The back room was strewn with half made furniture, with scraps of wood and upholstery littering the ground. “Carpentry’s really an art, you know. Most people think it’s just for practical things, but each piece needs care and a patient hand.” As he droned on about the value of woodworking, Rosela wished she had given up and stayed with the sign-maker for the furniture. She could have persuaded another discount out of him, and at least he hadn’t tried to chat her ear off. As it was, the craftsman she was stuck with had pulled a pair of small wardrobes away from the wall and was carefully dismantling them, still talking away. As she slipped into her thoughts of the rest of the day, she nearly missed his question as he turned and held the hammer out for her. “Here, give it a shot.” ”I…couldn’t…” She took the hammer uncomfortably, and at his insistence, moved closer to the bare skeleton of the wardrobe. “Oh come on now, Just give it a good whack, right here.” He indicated the underside of a junction of wood panels, smiling innocently up at her. With a slight grimace, she popped it once with the hammer. It trembled, but nothing happened. He only laughed and pointed again. “A little harder.” This time, she didn’t hesitate and hit it harder, more out of frustration than any real enthusiasm. The panels came apart with a creak of wood on wood, and Rosela yelped as they fell away, leaving the innards of the wardrobe as what appeared to be a pretty decent looking clothing rack. “Excellent! You’d make a dab hand at carpentry!” Rosela smiled awkwardly and handed the hammer back. ”Um, yes, I suppose… Say, I’ve got to get going though, I have…an appointment. At the fabric store.” “Of course you’ll need fabric!” he exclaimed, as though she had asked his opinion. “Don’t let me keep you. I’ll just deliver these then?” ”Yes, please. And the bill-” “To the Council, gotcha.” He winked again and twirled his hammer in one hand. ”Thanks. Um, bye.” The sun was well into midday when Rosela made it back outside and cursed the time. She was getting everything done that day, even if she had to kill someone to do it.

[Rosela]

The fabric store was at the end of the Warrens, but was a more permanent structure than the series of tents that made up most of it. It seemed to sell in bulk, and Rosela could, and had, on one dull afternoon, trace nearly every clothing stall in the bazaar to some fabric on this supplier’s shelves. It ranged from the richest silks to the wildly tacky dyed to the cheapest sack cloth. Stepping through the doors, Rosela was comforted by the familiar scent of fabric dye. As a child, she hadn’t spent much time around the family business, but the scent was associated with industry, and a sense of refinement. At the back, the proprietor, an Akalak with a pair of small spectacles and skin so fair it looked almost lilac, was talking in rapid Tukant to another Akalak, a pile of rough-hewn leather being passed between them into a bag. Rosela stalked the aisles impatiently as she waited for them to finish up. She discreetly marked the bolts she wanted fabric from, leaning them out slightly. She had pulled out a bolt of bottle green linen and was examining the feel when she heard the Akalak come along the aisle behind her. Looking up just in time, she nearly dropped the bolt as her hands reached out to stop him from pushing in all her nudged fabrics. ”No, no, no I’m buying those!” “Oh, I’m sorry, here we go.” With surprising accuracy, he leaned back to pull the various bolts back out. ”Thank you. I um…” She fumbled for the papers, put away while she was perusing the fabrics. ”I’m starting a clothing business and I need a lot of fabric.” “A clothing business!” He barely looked at the seal, but clapped his hands in excitement. “How lovely to hear. It’ll be so nice to have a permanent clothing shop in town. I do hope you’ll be a regular then?” He leaned over to give her a meaningful look over his spectacles, though Rosela figured it was more business-oriented than lecherous. ”Yes, you have a lovely selection here. I must confess,” she added on impulse. ”I’ve always wanted to learn weaving, but never had the time for it.” Her father’s voice murmured in her memory, talking to someone else about quality control and directing supply lines. ”Like this one here. The weave is so tight, but even. It’ll make a lovely winter cloak.” The Akalak seemed to have gone slightly on guard at Rosela’s little confession, and she immediately regretted it. “Well,” he sniffed. “It takes many, many years to learn this kind of quality. It certainly doesn’t come overnight. I have some boys who do most of the hard work these days, but they need very strict quality control.” Lifting his head, he gave her a hard look through his spectacles. “Many find it tedious work, and it’s not as easy and they’d like to think.” Rosela stared back at him evenly. He was challenging her, and she didn’t like it. However, she needed this fabric now, and she couldn’t afford to make an enemy out of her main supplier. ”My family owns a clothing line back in Eyktol, and they always impressed upon me the lesson of quality resources. High fashion starts with high fabric, they said.” The memory seemed to impress him, and he nodded sagely. “They were quite right, your parents. Do your business by that rule, and I’m sure you’ll be a wild success.” Though she balked at the notion that she needed anyone’s, let alone his, approval for her business, she kept her smile. She just needed to get her fabric and get out. ”Thank you. Now, I marked which fabrics I needed, and I’ve listed how much of each one… This is just for the opening line of course. I’ll be back regularly to resupply.” She came and left quickly, with the weaver being much less inclined for chit chat than any of the salesmen she’d encounted thus far. Checking her supplies list, she absently wondered if she could get a loom of her own and start supplying her own fabric, piece by piece at first. Or maybe she could simply hire another weaver to work exclusively for her. Putting a bookmark in the thought, she moved further down her checklist.

[Rosela]

Rosela knew the rest of the day was going to fly away quickly, as she assumed the rest of the supplies would be found in all different shops. She had counted on the mirror and mannequin to be at the furniture store, and hadn’t a clue where to look for them. Raking a hand through her hair, she looked up at the sun, now well into late afternoon. She didn’t have time to spend scavenger hunting. A gaggle of five laughing Akalak boys ran past her, the first one holding a toy bird aloft in the breeze. A chime rang in her mind as the idea came to her and a smile crept over her lips. The boys had stopped around the boy with the bird as they all inspected it closely in his hands. Stepping behind them authoritatively, she leaned over the group and cleared her throat. Each one looked up in alarm, the leader clutching back the bird toy. “We’re not doing anything wrong,” he pronounced loudly, the rest of the group nodding hurriedly in agreement. ”I know. I was actually hoping you boys could help me.” There was an identical flash of confusion on each of their faces before the leader puffed up his chest and stepped forward, the toy immediately disappearing into his pocket. “What do you need, miss?” Rosela smiled sweetly down at him and put two pairs of hands on her hips, another holding up a gold miza to make sure she had their attention. I need to find two things. They’re probably being sold somewhere in the Bazaar, but I don’t know for sure. I need you to find out where they’re being sold and come tell me, before the bazaar closes. I’ll be in the bazaar too, doing some other shopping. Find them for my, and I’ll give you a gold miza. I’m sure your parents can split it between the five of you if you work together.” The young leader swelled with responsibility as his comrades immediately looked around at the surrounding stalls. “You can count on us. What do you want us to find?” She felt a reluctant respect for the boy as he clearly took command of his companions. ”I need a mirror, and something called a mannequin. The mirror needs to be at least this big.” She marked the shape of the mirror in the air with her hands, roughly body-size. “How about a bunch of littler mirrors put together?” A dumpy boy to the left piped up, and the leader turned to glare at him. “She said one big mirror. That’s what we’ve gotta get.” Rosela eyed him with a smirk and continued on as though they hadn’t spoken. ”Next, the mannequin. It’s like a giant doll on a stand, but with no arms or legs. It’s shaped like an adult, with cloth stretched over wiring inside. You use it to make clothes on.” “I’ve seen one of those,” a wiry boy directly behind the leader said importantly. “A couple people here use them.” “So, a mirror and a…mann-i-kin. That’s what you need?” The leader crossed his small arms and looked up at her with a stiff chin. ”That’s right. And what time do I need it by?” She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Before the bazaar closes!” The five recited in unison. ”And the gold miza will be yours.” Straightening, she tucked the miza back into her purse. ”Go on now, Tanroa’s moving.” The boys immediately scattered, and she saw them reform into a group again further into the crowd. Smiling to herself, she headed towards a craft stall, already picking out the selection of sewing supplies on the counter.

[Rosela]

She’d haggled with the sewing crafts vendor, an elderly human man who wasn’t remotely impressed with her charms, for nearly a bell before turning away with her filled kit. Glancing quickly around, she saw many Akalak children, but no sign of her little leader yet. Shrugging, she headed to the fur stand next, hopefully her last stop before the boys came back with good news. The furs there were decent, though Rosela resigned to go back to the Stained Pelt next time. She’d picked out a few pieces and was running her hand along a length of Kevat fur when there was a small, polite tug on the side of her dress. Turning back in surprise, she looked around for a moment, then down to see the gaggle of boys standing in triangle formation, looking up at her. “Ma’am, we’ve found the items you have requested.” The leader made his proclamation with an ostentatious air, and Rosela had the impression that he’d practiced the line. “The mirror guy said the price depends on how big you want it, and the mannequin is…” he faltered for a moment. “180 gold mizas!” the dumpy boy proclaimed, and the leader nodded curtly. “180.” ”Well then. Thank you very much, boys. Let me pay for these and you can show me where. When I’ve got them both, the miza is yours.” Turning back to the fur salesman, she mouthed ‘this too’ while pointing at the Kevat fur and he nodded. “It’ll be delivered at the end of today, miss. Good luck with your business.” ”Thank you. Now,” she turned back to the boys. ”Where was that mannequin?” “Doll shop!” The shouted triumphantly, and took off into the crowd. One hand swept her skirt out of the way and she followed them quickly. The last boy in line checked back anxiously to make sure she was following, and Rosela had to clutch her bag of sewing supplies to her chest to make sure she didn’t lose it. She was just starting to breathe heavily when the boys stopped in front of a small dollmaker’s stall near the end of the Warrens. The leader boy presented the shop sign with a dramatic flourish. ”Thank you…boys.” Trying to steady her breath, she twitched her skirt back into place and patted down her hair. ”Wait here while I pay for it, and we’ll be off for the mirror.” The shopkeep, an aged Konti woman, gave her a humorous look as soon as she entered the stall. “You must be here for the mannequin. Your little minions were quite excited to find it for you.” ”Ahem, yes. They’ve been quite helpful. Do you deliver?” She tiredly presented the Council’s seal and the shopkeep nodded. “Certainly, miss. End of the day, when the bazaar closes.” Back outside, the boys will milling aimlessly, but snapped to attention when she came out. ”Okay, then. And the mirror?” “Art-fire-Glass-works!” They sped off again, and Rosela followed, hitching her skirt out of the way. The Glassworks was not far from the Warrens, but she was still out of breath when they got there. She didn’t need to go in and verify the contents – several large mirrors were displayed in the windows. ”You kept your word, boys. One gold miza, as promised.” She produced it and made to lay it in the leader’s outstretched hands, looking at him sternly. ”Can I trust that you’ll do the right thing and share?” The others in the group seemed shocked at her implication, though she didn’t actually care. She'd kept her end of the bargain, but the sharing thing was out of her hands. “On my honor, ma’am.” The line had an oft-recited sound to it, and she dropped the miza into his hands. “Thank you!” he exclaimed automatically. “Tell us if you need anything else, okay?” With that, they took off, the rest of the group pulling at the leader to see the miza they’d earned.

[Rosela]

Finally washing her hands of the children, she strode into the glassworks shop. The proprietor, a young, red haired man, was polishing a set of glass plates and didn’t turn to look at her. “I assume you’re responsible for that pack of hellions? I don’t allow rowdy children in here, for obvious reasons.” ”They’re not mine, if that’s what you’re asking.” Tired and starving, Rosela had no time for grace. ”I asked them to find me mirrors, and they did.” He set the plate down and looked back at her, immediately changing demeanor and smiling widely. “Ah, I should be grateful to them then.” He gave her an appreciative look up and down, and Rosela felt her strength return. “So you’re looking for a mirror. Can’t blame you, I’d want to look at that all day too." Rosela raised an amused eyebrow at his shameless flirting and put two hands on her tilted hip. ”Aren’t you the charmer. The mirror is actually for my shop.” She presented the certificate and unlike any of the other shop owners, he actually took it and inspected it. “Red Diamond Fashions, hm? Classy. I like it.” He waggled one eyebrow over the paper at her and she returned a reluctant half-smile. “50gm for a single mirror though? Tsk tsk.” She took back the paper in surprise, looking down at it as though the amount had changed. ”The council’s pricebook put mirrors at-” “The Council talks to those hacks in Zhongjie to get their prices. I am obviously,” he spread his hands to indicate the intricate pieces around him. “More skilled, and I don’t charge nearly that much. Especially not for pretty ladies. Beautiful women deserve to be surrounded by beautiful things.” Why thank you, master glassblower, you’re very kind.” Leaning forward, she placed her chin in one hand and looked at the glittering shelves. ”But alas, until I get my business off the ground, I’m somewhat limited in my purchasing power. For the moment, I need a mirror. I have 50 gold mizas to spend on it. What can you do for me?” She gave him a laden look, a smile twitching at her lips. “Well, I can do plenty for you…” He leaned down as well to rest his elbows on the counter top face next to hers. “But my mirrors are 1 gold miza per square foot. Pretty reasonable, I think.” Rosela hummed and drummed her fingertips on her chin. ”That is quite the bargain. I could get three decent sized mirrors, and still have a bit left over.” “Left over? Ah, come on. What are you going to do, return those last few mizas to the council?” ”I suppose not…But I can’t spend them on myself,” she said firmly, sneakily looking at him sideways. ”I’ll get in trouble.” “Why not spend it here then? On another pretty thing for your shop?” Calloused fingers reached out and touched her chin gently. Lifting her head, she looked at him through lidded eyes. ”What’ve you got?” Nearly a bell had gone by before they had decided on a piece: an intricate candelabra with red glass ornaments in the shape of gemstones dripping from it. Rosela gently touched one of the glass beads with a fingernail as Azvan, the shopkeep, figured the total at the counter. “Three mirrors, five by three, for 45 gold mizas, and one candelabra for 5. 50 gold mizas total, billable to the Council.” ”Sounds about right…” Rosela said dreamily, not looking up from the dance of red glass. ”Do you suppose I could get them delivered tonight?” Breaking her stare, she tossed her hair and looked over her shoulder at him, pouting slightly. He smiled and laughed as he made a last notation on his paper. “Of course, sweetheart. If only to see your smiling face again.” OOCThe master price list says 10gm for a small mirror, which is where I got my initial estimate from. However, the price list for the shop itself gives the above used price. Let me know if you’d rather I use the master price list and I’ll edit my post.

[Rosela]

Rosela was stuffing her face by the time she made it back to the empty shop. She’d been forced to detour to the Blue Bull for a bite to eat, spending even more of her dwindling galleons on food rather than go all the way home and eat what she had. She’d just finished the last of the bread when she turned the corner to see the woodworker from that morning hanging up her sign. As requested, it was the outline of a gem, colored red, above “Red Diamond Fashions” in ornate lettering. Pausing on the far side of the street, she hid the other half of her bread in her sewing supplies bag. She was ready for the day to be over with. All the supplies had been bought, she’d schmoozed who she could, and now it was time to relax and have a drink. If she had been back in Ahnatep, her parents would have invited the surrounding families over for a party, to celebrate. Then again, if she were still in Ahnatep, she’d be a marked widow, and probably no one would have come. The sign maker started to descend his ladder and Rosela gave her moment of peace up, approaching him bouncily. Her heard her steps and turned, smiling. “What do you think?” ”It’s lovely, thank you so much!” “No problem at all, little lady. I really thought you’d like the typography and-” He stopped short and looked over her shoulder up the street. “What are you doing here?” Rosela turned, concerned, to see the furniture maker pulling a wagon loaded with the chairs, racks, and table she’d ordered. Seeing an answering anger in his eyes as well, she sighed deeply. ”Oh good, you brought-” “I wish you would have told me it was him you were getting your furniture from. I’m sure he overcharged you for those scraps he sells.” ”Now, now…” “Scraps I sell? She obviously has a finer eye for quality than you do!” “You probably just conned her into buying that cheap-” “Cheap? Well priced! At least my chairs won’t make her feel like she’s sitting on a brick-” “It’s cheap crap, you hack!” ”BOYS!” Frustrated for having to shout her way into the conversation, she stood between the pair, all six arms outstretched on either side. ”I’ve had a very long day, and you both are acting like children. Grown men, yelling at each other in the street? Get ahold of yourselves!” Huffing indignantly, she threw her shoulders back and glared from one to the other. ”Now. Are you two going to be gentlemen and help me get my furniture inside?” They glared at each other for a moment before murmuring consent. The sign maker moved his ladder, and opened the door, and the furniture maker pulled his cart inside. A few minutes of uncomfortable silence later, the chairs were out, the desk was in the back, and the racks were up on either side of the room. ”Thank you, gentlemen.” She said meaningfully as they prepared to leave. They each mumbled something in turn as they started away, still giving each other furtive, angry looks. It seemed very sudden that Rosela was alone, and she collapsed into one of the chairs. Long day, very long day. The evening bell rang out over the city, signaling dinner time and the end of the bazaar. Any minute now, she’d have the rest of her things and she could go home and sleep. There was a single pair of footsteps coming up the street, with the squeak of wheels on cobblestone. Rosela waited in the fading light until the doll shop owner, the older Konti woman, came into the light, wheeling the mannequin along next to her. “Hello there dear, I hope you haven’t been waiting long?” ”No, no, thank you.” She took the mannequin, and wheeled it just inside the door, too tired to bother with putting it in the back room. After a few pleasantries, the woman disappeared back into the growing shadows of the dusk. Before her footsteps had even faded, she heard another set of wheels grinding along the path, and she perked up at the sight of a man and wagon moving through the shadow of the opposite building. Azvan emerged from it, pulling a wagon behind him, piled with large, heavily-padded objects. A young Akalak boy walked along beside the wagon, one hand on the outermost package as he eyed the pile warily. “I come bearing gifts!” Rosela smiled and stood, finding herself unwilling to dance on seduction at the moment. ”Azvan, thank you.” “But of course. Inside then?” ”Yes please. A mirror on each of the side walls, and one against the back. The candelabra in the middle, probably.” The drowsiness in her voice was noticeable, and he looked at her curiously as the boy silently moved each of the packaged items to their places. “You ok?” ”Yes,” she laughed sweetly. ”A bit tired. Long day.” “Make sure you get plenty of sleep then. Running a business is no easy task.” He looked genuinely concerned and Rosela felt a twinge of guilt for not being nearly as interested in him as she let on. ”I will, after this I’m done,” she lied, watching the boy adjust the mirrors against the wall. “Good. Don’t be a stranger, now. The place would look nice with some more décor.” He tweaked her chin again and she smiled. Waving goodbye, their shadows retreated back into the twilight. She hadn’t really wanted to lie to him, but if she told him she still had to wait for the fabric, he’d insist on staying and she just didn’t have the energy. The fabric owner had to wake her when he came, also with a wagon and an assistant. ”Oh, goodness, I’m terribly sorry…” Her apology was cut short by a massive yawn and she struggled to sit up. “Don’t worry about it. Hey,” he turned and spoke to the boy. “Go on, back room. Long day, hm? Welcome to the world of the entrepreneur.” With an insistence that he wouldn’t keep her, he left with a knowing smile, assistant trailing along behind, secretively casting her curious looks. The last of her things delivered, Rosela was finally ready to go home. She’d accomplished her goal, to be set up in a single day. The next day was the hard part – actually making her wares.

[Rosela]

Despite her long day previous, Rosela woke from a fitful sleep well before the sun was up. As tempting as it was to roll over and go back to sleep, the thought of not getting everything done spurred her upwards. Granted, at least she’d be staying indoors for the duration, but she still wanted to open as soon as possible. After a hard breakfast and a bracing walk in the pre-dawn chill, she unlocked the door to her brand new shop, and went immediately to the back. She paused for a moment in the workroom door, still somewhat stunned that this was all hers. Shaking herself of the feeling, she stretched widely, and doodled up a quick ‘Opens Tomorrow’ sign for the front door. No one was awake to see it at the time, but it was a comfort to think someone might pass by and be excited to see when she was opening. Drawing her candles close, she started in on her designs. She already had most of them in mind, created and stored away for this very moment, so the men’s clothing came easily. The women’s clothing started out far too fancy, and each one had to meet the eraser quite a bit before she’d consider it worthy of the Finished pile. A couple were just too lovely to hack apart, and so went into a special pile for a rainy day or a special commission. As much as she preferred designing for women, she had to acknowledge that Riverfall was a city of men, and so would likely make most of her business to them. With the designs done, she immediately set upon sewing pieces together, starting with the men’s. Men’s fashion was less ornate, making the process of sewing tedious as she made varying sizes of her designs. Like women, men of different sizes looked better in different cuts, and just because she didn’t like doing it, didn’t mean she was going to let anyone walk out her door looking less than their best. After a bell or two, the process became so monotonous that she experimented with using multiple hands to sew simultaneously. She had to redo a few lines of stitching at first, but got the hang of it slowly until all of her men’s designs had been successfully converted into real clothing. Folding each one carefully, she stretched her shoulders as she did so, organizing each pile into styles, then sizes. Halfway there. The piles were bustled out to the front room, where she was shocked to see the amount of daylight out. People were moving along the street already, some even stopping to look at her sign. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to keep moving and set each stack of clothing on the corresponding shelf. They looked somewhat…plain on their neat little shelves, and Rosela lamented, not for the first time, that Riverfall men weren’t willing to do more with their fashion. As much as she hated the leather, not only for the dull look but the incredible pain it was to sew, it was a favorite of the manly men, and not to be forgotten in a lineup. At long last, the men’s fashions were done, and she straightened the last stack. She had a sinking feeling that though the men’s side would be equal in size, the women’s side would be where her soul was at. As she stood at the door, trying to imagine both sides filled with clothing and milling people, there was an uneven rap at the door. She turned to see a child’s face was at the bottom of the window, grinning toothily. She frowned in confusion before recognition kicked in. Her little leader from yesterday. She rolled her eyes as she cracked the door and stuck her head out. ”Where’s your friends today?” “They’re playing. Do you need anything?” ”No, I got everything yesterday. Shouldn’t you be with your parents then?” “Nu-uh, they’re working. Is your name Diamond? Is this your shop?” ”My name is Rosela, and yes this is my shop.” “I’m Sorgar. Hey, there’s the mirrors! Where’s the mannequin?” He was on his toes to look in the door’s window again. ”It’s in the back. Go on now, I have a lot of work to do.” “Are you sure I can’t help?” ”Shoo!” “Bye!” He ran off laughing and Rosela watched him go. What a strange child. Back in the work room, she started on women’s clothes with a fresh heart, oddly rejuvenated after her encounter with Sorgar. Her designs were still coming out just a bit too flamboyant, but a few nips and clips had each one well within wearable limits. A select few kept their colorful dressings, just in case someone wanted something extravagant off the shelf. At least she got to work with a good array of colors. It was more difficult to sew these with multiple hands, but she did it when she could, and used her other hands to hold the hem line, rethread, and hold her design sheet. When she finally straightened the hem on her last piece, she saw through the open door to the front that it was already growing dark. Her stomach gave an ominous rumble at the realization and she reluctantly dug out the other half of her bread from the Blue Bull the night before. Piece by piece, they went up, and the racks and shelves slowly filled. People out for the evening stopped to look inside, and Rosela waved when she could. Once she was open for business, it would be time to start working on a client base. She hadn’t even realized she was done until she turned around to put up the next dress and realized there were no more in the stack. Looking around in wonder, she felt a marvelous sense of accomplishment seeing the place filled. The place felt fuller, cozier, and she touched the clothing, the racks, and her candelabra as she wandered the aisle. This was her shop. Her shop. She left it that night only reluctantly, tired, but happy. There was another full day ahead, but she had a feeling she’d sleep well that night. Tomorrow, she opened. OOCLedger: -1gm for errands -2cm for loaf of bread -1sm for hunk of cheese

[Jackalope]

Rosela

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Seduction	+1	An Accepted Business Plan
Carpentry	+1	Getting Something For Nothing
Persuasion	+1	Popping out Panels
Negotiation	+2	The Importance of High Quality Fabric
Observation	+2	Stopping Grown Men From Squabbling
Sewing	+2	Experimenting with Multiple Hand Sewing
Organization	+2	Sorgar: Willing to Help?

Jackalope's Notes

Wow, a lot happened in this thread. Congrats on your business. If, when sewing, you could go into a little more detail as to how your doing it, what kind of stitching, description of the designs themselves and such, you'll get more xp for that sort of thing. When you're comptent and above, saying you're doing it isn't enough. Devil's in the details. Please don't take this as a slight against your writing, because it's no such thing. I enjoyed reading it and look forward to more of your works! Great job, Rosela! If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.