21st Bell, 19th Fall, 515 AV, The Rearing Stallion
It was a busy night that night, and it had only just started. The Harvest Festival was in its finishing stages, but competitions still raged, and the drinks still ran as liquid as golden honey in the Rearing Stallion. Millie was still learning the ropes, and unfortunately she hadn't quite learnt by the time the Harvest Festival had started a few days ago, so she was rushed off her feet, making mistakes left, right and centre.
Fortunately, the crowd was already quite tipsy, to say the least, and forgave her for her misfortune. Which was lucky really, as she was feeling quite morose. She hadn't been able to place her finger directly on the problem, but it was something to do with crowds of people enjoying themselves, without her...
Either way, she had a job to do. The room was hot, and the woman's hair was tied back in a messy bun on the top of her head. Dressed in dark clothes, and covered in an apron, the woman was even more hot that the others in the room, so she felt rather flustered, as well as lonely, even in this crowd. Thankfully, the owner of the tavern, Kevith, had got her collecting empty glasses and pitchers from tables, and cleaning instead of any actual bar-tending yet.
Of course, that meant she had to negotiate her way through the throng. She'd been mostly ignored so far, and that had given her a chance to people-watch, something the woman loved to do. There were a few large groups of friends, all conversing merrily... "Ole Warick gave me a!..."
"... Ohh you old beggar!..."
"Aah Sall, gimme some ol' that!"...
As well, there were the regulars at the bar, nursing their ale and talking to the other workers in the Rearing Stallion. The whole pub gave off a feeling of a rowdy but friendly banter and talk, voices raised to be heard above the din.
Yes, it was busy that evening. Time wore on, and 22nd bell of the day, or rather evening chimed outside of her hearing. Millie was looking even more dishevelled, but she'd started to finally settle into her new job, the monotonous but familiar beat of feet against the cobbles and the clatter and clang of mugs against the sinks and the stickiness of beer on her hands.
She was kept busy by Kevith, but fortunately she was due to be finishing in just a couple of chimes, so she stepped out the back to hang up her apron and get a breath of fresh air.
Feeling a little fresher, Millie stepped out a small side door into the main body of the inn, immediately plunged back into the hustle-bustle of the inn. Ordinarily, the girl would head home, feeling exhausted. But she wanted to combat her loneliness, and tonight... tonight seemed the night to do it.
Unfortunately, as soon as she was out of her apron, the patrons paid her no heed. "Excuse me mister, you're... treading on my heel." The man in question guffawed with his friends, spilling ale on his gruff beard, and Millie wrenched her heel away. "Never mind then", she said, her voice soured, although it was to be expected really.
Settling down in the corner with a small mug of ale that Kevith had poured for her, she scratched her head and sighed as the tiredness swept over her. But with a small vow under her voice, she determined that she would be sociable tonight. So, with that in mind, she scanned the crowd, hoping for a friendly face to either join her or let her join them.