Alvi (of Rohan)
Mar 19, 2018 19:20:05 GMT -5
Post by Alvi on Mar 19, 2018 19:20:05 GMT -5
.The Facade.
Character Name: Alvi
Name Meaning: It doesn't mean anything, just a name she gave herself. Her real name is a secret.
Age: 28
Date of Birth: T.A. 2982
Race: Man
Residence: Rohan
Profession: Jockey
Appearance:
Alvi is a compact, petite woman. She stands at five foot, three inches tall. She has black hair, cut short. Her eyes are brown, she has thick dark eyebrows with an angular face. She doesn't possess the most womanly physique, with enough on her chest that she isn't quite flat chested. She is sinewy, and her arms are lean and strong, with broad shoulders for a woman. Her legs are very well muscled considering her chosen profession.
The woman wears men's clothes, with no sign of any gowns. She wears no jewellery, nor any make up. Her fingernails are kept short, and there is usually dirt beneath them. There is no attempt to dress herself up as something she is not, and whilst she cleans herself daily, she smells of horses, looks scruffy and seems to wear a permanent scowl on her features.
Personality:
Due to an unforgiving and uncaring upbringing, Alvi can be described first and foremost as assertive. She knows what she wants, and she will take it. There are no qualms about telling people no, or to go away; and if they don't she isn't above threatening them with actual bodily harm. There is no way to get this woman to do something she doesn't want to do. Other people's opinions mean nothing to her either.
Alvi is certainly not a people person, one could call her an introvert, though not in the shy, retiring way of some people. This particular woman is unsociable and indifferent to making friends, she gets on with the people she needs to get on with, and deals with those who provide her money, or bed and board, otherwise she is highly unlikely to go out to make friends. Small talk isn't a skill she possesses.
In line with being introverted, Alvi is also incredibly surly. It might already be apparent, but she is not a people person. The reason for this is also simple, nobody cared for her, so she doesn't care about anyone except for herself. As a result, she makes no attempt at being polite, or friendly. If anything, she'd rather be left alone, and is bad-tempered if people irritate her. She has a short fuse in that regard. Going back to her being introverted, and impolite, what doesn't help her reputation is that she is so frank in how she talks to people. She very much says what she feels, and will tell the truth, no matter how brutal that might turn out to be.
Impulsive is another word to describe her. Not in the way she will go out and buy a pretty necklace, or a decoration to adorn a horse bridle. Rather, if goaded, she will throw a punch first and ask questions later. She will act without proper forethought. Consequences of her actions, and repercussions mean nothing to her, because in her opinion, there isn't much in life that brings her joy or goodness, and that's just a small insight into how pessimistic she is.
Most of all, Alvi is an independent soul. She doesn't need or want anyone else to help her out. She doesn't crave affection, or human contact, she doesn't care that most nights she goes home to an empty house, there's no need to have someone to look after her, or even keep her bed warm. Horses and drink are the main companions, and for her, the only companions she needs.
Now, this is what people see when they approach, or try to converse with Alvi, very few will see how she is with horses. It's like she is a completely different person. Calm, softly spoken, gentle, kind, caring, thoughtful and patient. It seems all the good qualities of her character are reserved purely for equine animals.
Parents: Travelling peddlars that left her on a farm just outside Rohan a few months after she was born.
Sibling(s): Probably, but she isn't aware of who they are or where.
Spouse: Nope.
Children: Absolutely not.
History:
Alvi was the child of two travelling traders. However, they didn't want a child, it didn't fit in with their nomadic lifestyle, and was too much of a drain on their finances, and they weren't rich in the first place. The first farm they passed, which was near the city of Rohan, they left their baby wrapped up, inside the barn, on a pile of hay on the floor. The old widow that owned the farm found the baby by following its cries some hours later. She took the infant to the house, and in an act of extreme compassion, decided to look after the child. The widow was a woman of limited means, but what she had spare, she gave to the infant, knitting her clothes and blankets, feeding her goats milk, brushing her hair, bathing her, and singing her to sleep at night.
For the first eight years, life was pretty normal, joyous in fact. The old widow was kind, did what she could for this abandoned child, fed and clothed her as best she could. In return, the child went out to hunt chicken eggs, milk the goats, feed the pigs and turn out the horses and bring them in at night, Whilst the widow cared for the small vegetable patch. Their meals were plain fare, but satisfying, the widow taught the girl how to prepare food, peeling vegetables and cutting them, how to prepare meat or preserve it. Together, the old widow and the young child, worked together to give themselves as good a life as possible, they kept each other company, the widow read her stories before bed, teaching her words, until the child could read the stories to her adoptive mother.
The one other thing the old widow shared with the child was her love of horses. On the farm there were two twenty year old mares, one chestnut and one dapple grey. The old widow couldn't ride them herself, not at her age, but she did help the child learn to ride, not only having to shorten the stirrups but having to loop them, for the girl to be able to fit her feet in. The child was a natural, and it didn't take long when she was telling her 'nama' to let go of the horse, allowing the child to guide it from the saddle. It wasn't long after that, the child was trotting around the farm, and even less before she was cantering in the field beyond the pig pen. However, it wasn't all just having fun riding the horses. The widow had to teach the child how to saddle and tack up the horse, and then take it all the tack back off the horse. Rub downs were required for the animals, grooming, feeding, watering, the turning out of the animals into their paddocks in the morning, and fetching them in before sunset. Clearly the child had a passion for horses, and on her ninth birthday, the old widow gifted her the chestnut horse, called Jinny, to the girl.
Of course, time catches up to everyone, and though raising a child had brought the old widow a new lease of life, it couldn't and didn't last forever. The following year, the old widow took ill, pnuemonia, and passed away in her sleep. It was all very sudden. In the morning, after all her chored were done, and she had made breakfast for the old widow, who hadn't risen from her bed, the girl went up to see her Nama. The night before, the old widow had complained of feeling short of breath, and had what looked to be a nasty cough, once the child couldn't wake Nama, she ran downstairs, out into the farmyard, down to the horse paddock, and having caught Jinny, rode her to the next farm over. There the ten-year-old explained that Nama wouldn't awaken. The lady of the farm kept the child with her, whilst her husband went to investigate.
What transpired next was too complicated for the child to understand, except that Nama wasn't coming back, and her son, who she had never met in ten years, was agreeable to taking the child in and looking after her. Except, they didn't live on the farm anymore, they lived in Rohan, and when the child begged to keep her horse Jinny, she was shocked to receive a smack across the face. This was the beginning of the abuse at the hands of the son of the widow.
The house within the city limits was small, damp, cold and it stunk of stale beer. The son's shrew of a wife was no more genteel than her husband, and the girl was used as a slave in the house, cleaning up after the adults, fetching water, washing clothes, making their beds, fluffing their pillows. The only thing she wasn't responsible for was cooking the food, though she had to scrub the plates and cooking utensils, then dry them up, after every meal. If something wasn't up to the standard of the son and his wife, then she was beaten with a belt, then sent to her room with no supper.
Three years this went on, until the girl could take no more.
That night, once she could hear the man snoring, she crept out of the house, and ran away into the city. She kept looking over her shoulder, expecting him to appear out of the gloom and drag her back to the house, but it never happened. In fact, he didn't come looking for her at all. Which left the child to fend for herself. Rohan wasn't short of stables, and it didn't take long for the girl to find one, break in, and sleep in an empty stall. So exhausted, both physically and mentally, she didn't wake up when the owner of the stables opened up for the day, it wasn't until the big, burly man kicked her bare foot, that she woke with a start, fearing it was the widow's son and he had found her.
It wasn't, but she wasn't flooded with relief, as she scrambled to her feet, staring defiantly up at the owner of the stable. He demanded to know what the urchin was doing on his property, around his horses. She calmly explained she needed a job, and she was very good with horses. As a test the man asked her to tack up the pony in the end stable, she did so, to his satisfaction. She proved she could check their feet, their teeth, that she could rub them down, and knew the correct way to tie off the lead rope. Seeing she was knowledgeable, and knew her business, he agreed to take her on as a stable hand.
"What's your name then, child?" The giant of a man asked, yet with a gruff tenderness in his voice.
"Alvi." She replied, taking the name for the dapply grey horse the old widow had owned.
Alvi, as she was now known, was glad of the work she had gained in the stable. She never complained about having to muck out the stalls, or brushing every horse down, or picking out the hooves and trimming them. She was always on hand to help the farrier. At the end of every night, the owner told her to go home, and Alvi would circle around the city, until she was sure he had gone home, and then she would sneak back into the stables, and bed down with the horses. She had her suspicions that the owner knew what was going on, but he never mentioned it, and nor did she. He was glad to have another pair of hands to help him out, and could pay her the bare minimum. However, it was clear she didn't have a home, no one to look after her, and she was using the water butt to wash her face each morning.
Not long after she started, and the owner saw the condition of her, he arrived at his stables. Of course Alvi was already there and getting about her chores. He called her over, and handed her a face cloth, a bar of soap, a hairbrush, new shoes, a spare shirt of his that would be too big for her, but she needed something else to wear. Then he extended the offer to her, that should she ever need a good meal, she need only ask him, and he'd take her to his home where his wife would provide her with such.
"Thanks." She mumbled, taking the items, and putting them on an upturned empty barrel in the corner of the stables. This was the first act of kindness she had received, at least since the man agreed she could work for him.
And after a few weeks, the stable owner trusted her enough to allow her to ride the horses out. The pair of them had built up enough of a bond to know she wasn't going to rustle the horses, and she would bring them back safe and sound. Besides, she was saving up her wages, he knew that, he had seen her savings. He had asked her what she intended to do with the money. Bluntly, she told him she wanted a horse of her own. The owner laughed, shook his head, and walked off. Their arrangement continued for the best part of five years.
Then, a day came when the owner of the stable told her he reckoned she had enough money to purchase a horse of her own. She said she wasn't sure, and he merely nodded, in his gruff way, and told her to come with him. There was an auction on for the sale of horses, and the stable owner took her around, as they picked out the best animals, and agreed on the top price they would go for. It was an all around exciting experience, and she watched as each horse in turn was led out, walked and trotted in a small ring before the bidding took place. Three out of the five horses they had earmarked went far beyond their budget. Then the fourth came out, it was a skewbald; brown and white in colour, with a black mane and tail. Whilst it had been in the stall, it had looked calm and composed, his conformation was good, seemed to have a good temperament, and initially as they walked him round, he seemed sound. However, he'd only managed two laps before he started to toss his head, then he was kicking, before full on bucking.
As one can imagine, the bidding soon dried up for this particular horse, except for one young woman, who threw up her bid card. The stable owner asked Alvi if she was sure this was the horse she wanted. The answer was yes. The creature was not only beautiful, but it had spirit, and she liked that. Alvi managed to secure her horse for well under budget, and she led the beast back to the stable, smiling all the way.
The following day, she took the horse out to ride with the stable owner. However, the dream she imagined this would be, couldn't have been further from the truth. The horse was wild! It threw her off twice, the second time hard enough to wind her. The stable owner chuckled, and catching the horse, told Alvi that he would show her how it was done. It had been foolhardy, a slow and steadier approach should have been taken, because as soon as the stable owner dug his heels in, the horse reared back, then galloped off, stopping sharply and throwing the man over its head.
It was a nasty fall. The owner was knocked clean out, and Alvi ran for him, whilst screaming at the top of her lungs for help. He had cracked his head badly, and it was bleeding. Finally, people turned up, together managing to carry him to his house where a healer was called for. When the doctor got there he advised that he would never be able to ride again. Nor was he wrong, the man had lost his balance, and was visibly frail. Unfortunately, for them both, he had to sell the stables on, and the new owner had no use of her services.
Alvi removed her possessions from the stable, which now amounted to a saddle, a saddle bag, the rest of the tack, her hair brush, spare clothing, towel and wash cloth, as well as a few other sundry items the new owners would never realise were missing. As she guided her horses down to the plains beneath Rohan, she spent the time thinking what she would do to earn her keep. The money she had on her now wouldn't keep them going beyond the next two months. She sat heavily on the grass, leaving her new horse, an young stallion, to graze. It would help if she could ride the beast, as it was she had an animal she couldn't even mount.
"I suppose the first thing to do is to tame you, eh?" She said to the horse, who utterly ignored her. Nodding, she got up, and for the rest of the day, she made sure to be in constant contact of the animal. She placed the saddle on the stallion, and walked him around wearing it. Then she would occasionally place her hand on the stirrup and push down, applying the same pressure as a man would, getting on the horse. The beast didn't like it, so Alvi removed the stirrups for now. Instead she placed her arm over the withers, and back of the horse, and slowly, by degrees, he got used to being handled and touched, and feeling weight upon his back.
Thankfully it was summer, and the nights were warm enough for the pair of them to sleep outside, but close enough to the city to not be in any danger. Over the next couple of weeks, she managed to back the horse, to the point she could lay over the horse's back on her belly. The issue still remained mounting up. The beast did not like her mounting from the ground, the pressure that was induced by the saddle caused him to toss his head, try to turn his head to bite her, or else buck. However, when she mounted from a block or fence, he didn't do any of these things. So it was, she finally got to ride her stallion, and how fast he was! She speculated he had to be one of the fastest horses in Rohan. An instinct that proved correct. She challeneged many riders to races, skinning them for money, until she had a big enough purse to buy a small holding with a double stable.
News quickly spread of the horse and rider, with people seeking her out for races, and small crowds congregating to bet on the outcome. The money was far more lucrative than she anticipated. Thus it was, that she started to earn more than enough for the rent, food and supplies. She even earned enough to buy a young mare, with the plan to breed the horses and start a stable of racing horses. Not only did she ride her own animals, people paid her to ride their horses in races. It was clear she had a way with these animals, and was fearless to take on any race, on any horse, and come out of it victorious.
This particular calling in life didn't come without its own risks, and she found herself in many a fist fight, starting a couple whenever someone threatened her horse. Then there were those that tried to corner her and take their money back, they usually went off with a single red line alone their neck where she had sworn she would cut their throat if they ever dared to take her on like this again. It didn't take long for her reputation to spread in the dark bowels of the city, that Alvi was not a person to cross, but if anyone was looking for an expert rider for a race, she was the woman to go to.
An entire decade passed this way, until she was secure enough in her funds to commission a carpenter to build a couple extra stalls to her stable. She purchased another mare, to strengthen her bloodline, and to make sure that she didn't over breed her horses. Only last year she bred her first two foals. Alvi stood, one foot on the bottom strut of the paddock fence, her arms crossed and resting on the top strut, and there was a faint smile on her face. The empire was growing.
Character Name: Alvi
Name Meaning: It doesn't mean anything, just a name she gave herself. Her real name is a secret.
Age: 28
Date of Birth: T.A. 2982
Race: Man
Residence: Rohan
Profession: Jockey
Appearance:
Alvi is a compact, petite woman. She stands at five foot, three inches tall. She has black hair, cut short. Her eyes are brown, she has thick dark eyebrows with an angular face. She doesn't possess the most womanly physique, with enough on her chest that she isn't quite flat chested. She is sinewy, and her arms are lean and strong, with broad shoulders for a woman. Her legs are very well muscled considering her chosen profession.
The woman wears men's clothes, with no sign of any gowns. She wears no jewellery, nor any make up. Her fingernails are kept short, and there is usually dirt beneath them. There is no attempt to dress herself up as something she is not, and whilst she cleans herself daily, she smells of horses, looks scruffy and seems to wear a permanent scowl on her features.
Personality:
Due to an unforgiving and uncaring upbringing, Alvi can be described first and foremost as assertive. She knows what she wants, and she will take it. There are no qualms about telling people no, or to go away; and if they don't she isn't above threatening them with actual bodily harm. There is no way to get this woman to do something she doesn't want to do. Other people's opinions mean nothing to her either.
Alvi is certainly not a people person, one could call her an introvert, though not in the shy, retiring way of some people. This particular woman is unsociable and indifferent to making friends, she gets on with the people she needs to get on with, and deals with those who provide her money, or bed and board, otherwise she is highly unlikely to go out to make friends. Small talk isn't a skill she possesses.
In line with being introverted, Alvi is also incredibly surly. It might already be apparent, but she is not a people person. The reason for this is also simple, nobody cared for her, so she doesn't care about anyone except for herself. As a result, she makes no attempt at being polite, or friendly. If anything, she'd rather be left alone, and is bad-tempered if people irritate her. She has a short fuse in that regard. Going back to her being introverted, and impolite, what doesn't help her reputation is that she is so frank in how she talks to people. She very much says what she feels, and will tell the truth, no matter how brutal that might turn out to be.
Impulsive is another word to describe her. Not in the way she will go out and buy a pretty necklace, or a decoration to adorn a horse bridle. Rather, if goaded, she will throw a punch first and ask questions later. She will act without proper forethought. Consequences of her actions, and repercussions mean nothing to her, because in her opinion, there isn't much in life that brings her joy or goodness, and that's just a small insight into how pessimistic she is.
Most of all, Alvi is an independent soul. She doesn't need or want anyone else to help her out. She doesn't crave affection, or human contact, she doesn't care that most nights she goes home to an empty house, there's no need to have someone to look after her, or even keep her bed warm. Horses and drink are the main companions, and for her, the only companions she needs.
Now, this is what people see when they approach, or try to converse with Alvi, very few will see how she is with horses. It's like she is a completely different person. Calm, softly spoken, gentle, kind, caring, thoughtful and patient. It seems all the good qualities of her character are reserved purely for equine animals.
.The Blood.
Parents: Travelling peddlars that left her on a farm just outside Rohan a few months after she was born.
Sibling(s): Probably, but she isn't aware of who they are or where.
Spouse: Nope.
Children: Absolutely not.
History:
Alvi was the child of two travelling traders. However, they didn't want a child, it didn't fit in with their nomadic lifestyle, and was too much of a drain on their finances, and they weren't rich in the first place. The first farm they passed, which was near the city of Rohan, they left their baby wrapped up, inside the barn, on a pile of hay on the floor. The old widow that owned the farm found the baby by following its cries some hours later. She took the infant to the house, and in an act of extreme compassion, decided to look after the child. The widow was a woman of limited means, but what she had spare, she gave to the infant, knitting her clothes and blankets, feeding her goats milk, brushing her hair, bathing her, and singing her to sleep at night.
For the first eight years, life was pretty normal, joyous in fact. The old widow was kind, did what she could for this abandoned child, fed and clothed her as best she could. In return, the child went out to hunt chicken eggs, milk the goats, feed the pigs and turn out the horses and bring them in at night, Whilst the widow cared for the small vegetable patch. Their meals were plain fare, but satisfying, the widow taught the girl how to prepare food, peeling vegetables and cutting them, how to prepare meat or preserve it. Together, the old widow and the young child, worked together to give themselves as good a life as possible, they kept each other company, the widow read her stories before bed, teaching her words, until the child could read the stories to her adoptive mother.
The one other thing the old widow shared with the child was her love of horses. On the farm there were two twenty year old mares, one chestnut and one dapple grey. The old widow couldn't ride them herself, not at her age, but she did help the child learn to ride, not only having to shorten the stirrups but having to loop them, for the girl to be able to fit her feet in. The child was a natural, and it didn't take long when she was telling her 'nama' to let go of the horse, allowing the child to guide it from the saddle. It wasn't long after that, the child was trotting around the farm, and even less before she was cantering in the field beyond the pig pen. However, it wasn't all just having fun riding the horses. The widow had to teach the child how to saddle and tack up the horse, and then take it all the tack back off the horse. Rub downs were required for the animals, grooming, feeding, watering, the turning out of the animals into their paddocks in the morning, and fetching them in before sunset. Clearly the child had a passion for horses, and on her ninth birthday, the old widow gifted her the chestnut horse, called Jinny, to the girl.
Of course, time catches up to everyone, and though raising a child had brought the old widow a new lease of life, it couldn't and didn't last forever. The following year, the old widow took ill, pnuemonia, and passed away in her sleep. It was all very sudden. In the morning, after all her chored were done, and she had made breakfast for the old widow, who hadn't risen from her bed, the girl went up to see her Nama. The night before, the old widow had complained of feeling short of breath, and had what looked to be a nasty cough, once the child couldn't wake Nama, she ran downstairs, out into the farmyard, down to the horse paddock, and having caught Jinny, rode her to the next farm over. There the ten-year-old explained that Nama wouldn't awaken. The lady of the farm kept the child with her, whilst her husband went to investigate.
What transpired next was too complicated for the child to understand, except that Nama wasn't coming back, and her son, who she had never met in ten years, was agreeable to taking the child in and looking after her. Except, they didn't live on the farm anymore, they lived in Rohan, and when the child begged to keep her horse Jinny, she was shocked to receive a smack across the face. This was the beginning of the abuse at the hands of the son of the widow.
The house within the city limits was small, damp, cold and it stunk of stale beer. The son's shrew of a wife was no more genteel than her husband, and the girl was used as a slave in the house, cleaning up after the adults, fetching water, washing clothes, making their beds, fluffing their pillows. The only thing she wasn't responsible for was cooking the food, though she had to scrub the plates and cooking utensils, then dry them up, after every meal. If something wasn't up to the standard of the son and his wife, then she was beaten with a belt, then sent to her room with no supper.
Three years this went on, until the girl could take no more.
That night, once she could hear the man snoring, she crept out of the house, and ran away into the city. She kept looking over her shoulder, expecting him to appear out of the gloom and drag her back to the house, but it never happened. In fact, he didn't come looking for her at all. Which left the child to fend for herself. Rohan wasn't short of stables, and it didn't take long for the girl to find one, break in, and sleep in an empty stall. So exhausted, both physically and mentally, she didn't wake up when the owner of the stables opened up for the day, it wasn't until the big, burly man kicked her bare foot, that she woke with a start, fearing it was the widow's son and he had found her.
It wasn't, but she wasn't flooded with relief, as she scrambled to her feet, staring defiantly up at the owner of the stable. He demanded to know what the urchin was doing on his property, around his horses. She calmly explained she needed a job, and she was very good with horses. As a test the man asked her to tack up the pony in the end stable, she did so, to his satisfaction. She proved she could check their feet, their teeth, that she could rub them down, and knew the correct way to tie off the lead rope. Seeing she was knowledgeable, and knew her business, he agreed to take her on as a stable hand.
"What's your name then, child?" The giant of a man asked, yet with a gruff tenderness in his voice.
"Alvi." She replied, taking the name for the dapply grey horse the old widow had owned.
Alvi, as she was now known, was glad of the work she had gained in the stable. She never complained about having to muck out the stalls, or brushing every horse down, or picking out the hooves and trimming them. She was always on hand to help the farrier. At the end of every night, the owner told her to go home, and Alvi would circle around the city, until she was sure he had gone home, and then she would sneak back into the stables, and bed down with the horses. She had her suspicions that the owner knew what was going on, but he never mentioned it, and nor did she. He was glad to have another pair of hands to help him out, and could pay her the bare minimum. However, it was clear she didn't have a home, no one to look after her, and she was using the water butt to wash her face each morning.
Not long after she started, and the owner saw the condition of her, he arrived at his stables. Of course Alvi was already there and getting about her chores. He called her over, and handed her a face cloth, a bar of soap, a hairbrush, new shoes, a spare shirt of his that would be too big for her, but she needed something else to wear. Then he extended the offer to her, that should she ever need a good meal, she need only ask him, and he'd take her to his home where his wife would provide her with such.
"Thanks." She mumbled, taking the items, and putting them on an upturned empty barrel in the corner of the stables. This was the first act of kindness she had received, at least since the man agreed she could work for him.
And after a few weeks, the stable owner trusted her enough to allow her to ride the horses out. The pair of them had built up enough of a bond to know she wasn't going to rustle the horses, and she would bring them back safe and sound. Besides, she was saving up her wages, he knew that, he had seen her savings. He had asked her what she intended to do with the money. Bluntly, she told him she wanted a horse of her own. The owner laughed, shook his head, and walked off. Their arrangement continued for the best part of five years.
Then, a day came when the owner of the stable told her he reckoned she had enough money to purchase a horse of her own. She said she wasn't sure, and he merely nodded, in his gruff way, and told her to come with him. There was an auction on for the sale of horses, and the stable owner took her around, as they picked out the best animals, and agreed on the top price they would go for. It was an all around exciting experience, and she watched as each horse in turn was led out, walked and trotted in a small ring before the bidding took place. Three out of the five horses they had earmarked went far beyond their budget. Then the fourth came out, it was a skewbald; brown and white in colour, with a black mane and tail. Whilst it had been in the stall, it had looked calm and composed, his conformation was good, seemed to have a good temperament, and initially as they walked him round, he seemed sound. However, he'd only managed two laps before he started to toss his head, then he was kicking, before full on bucking.
As one can imagine, the bidding soon dried up for this particular horse, except for one young woman, who threw up her bid card. The stable owner asked Alvi if she was sure this was the horse she wanted. The answer was yes. The creature was not only beautiful, but it had spirit, and she liked that. Alvi managed to secure her horse for well under budget, and she led the beast back to the stable, smiling all the way.
The following day, she took the horse out to ride with the stable owner. However, the dream she imagined this would be, couldn't have been further from the truth. The horse was wild! It threw her off twice, the second time hard enough to wind her. The stable owner chuckled, and catching the horse, told Alvi that he would show her how it was done. It had been foolhardy, a slow and steadier approach should have been taken, because as soon as the stable owner dug his heels in, the horse reared back, then galloped off, stopping sharply and throwing the man over its head.
It was a nasty fall. The owner was knocked clean out, and Alvi ran for him, whilst screaming at the top of her lungs for help. He had cracked his head badly, and it was bleeding. Finally, people turned up, together managing to carry him to his house where a healer was called for. When the doctor got there he advised that he would never be able to ride again. Nor was he wrong, the man had lost his balance, and was visibly frail. Unfortunately, for them both, he had to sell the stables on, and the new owner had no use of her services.
Alvi removed her possessions from the stable, which now amounted to a saddle, a saddle bag, the rest of the tack, her hair brush, spare clothing, towel and wash cloth, as well as a few other sundry items the new owners would never realise were missing. As she guided her horses down to the plains beneath Rohan, she spent the time thinking what she would do to earn her keep. The money she had on her now wouldn't keep them going beyond the next two months. She sat heavily on the grass, leaving her new horse, an young stallion, to graze. It would help if she could ride the beast, as it was she had an animal she couldn't even mount.
"I suppose the first thing to do is to tame you, eh?" She said to the horse, who utterly ignored her. Nodding, she got up, and for the rest of the day, she made sure to be in constant contact of the animal. She placed the saddle on the stallion, and walked him around wearing it. Then she would occasionally place her hand on the stirrup and push down, applying the same pressure as a man would, getting on the horse. The beast didn't like it, so Alvi removed the stirrups for now. Instead she placed her arm over the withers, and back of the horse, and slowly, by degrees, he got used to being handled and touched, and feeling weight upon his back.
Thankfully it was summer, and the nights were warm enough for the pair of them to sleep outside, but close enough to the city to not be in any danger. Over the next couple of weeks, she managed to back the horse, to the point she could lay over the horse's back on her belly. The issue still remained mounting up. The beast did not like her mounting from the ground, the pressure that was induced by the saddle caused him to toss his head, try to turn his head to bite her, or else buck. However, when she mounted from a block or fence, he didn't do any of these things. So it was, she finally got to ride her stallion, and how fast he was! She speculated he had to be one of the fastest horses in Rohan. An instinct that proved correct. She challeneged many riders to races, skinning them for money, until she had a big enough purse to buy a small holding with a double stable.
News quickly spread of the horse and rider, with people seeking her out for races, and small crowds congregating to bet on the outcome. The money was far more lucrative than she anticipated. Thus it was, that she started to earn more than enough for the rent, food and supplies. She even earned enough to buy a young mare, with the plan to breed the horses and start a stable of racing horses. Not only did she ride her own animals, people paid her to ride their horses in races. It was clear she had a way with these animals, and was fearless to take on any race, on any horse, and come out of it victorious.
This particular calling in life didn't come without its own risks, and she found herself in many a fist fight, starting a couple whenever someone threatened her horse. Then there were those that tried to corner her and take their money back, they usually went off with a single red line alone their neck where she had sworn she would cut their throat if they ever dared to take her on like this again. It didn't take long for her reputation to spread in the dark bowels of the city, that Alvi was not a person to cross, but if anyone was looking for an expert rider for a race, she was the woman to go to.
An entire decade passed this way, until she was secure enough in her funds to commission a carpenter to build a couple extra stalls to her stable. She purchased another mare, to strengthen her bloodline, and to make sure that she didn't over breed her horses. Only last year she bred her first two foals. Alvi stood, one foot on the bottom strut of the paddock fence, her arms crossed and resting on the top strut, and there was a faint smile on her face. The empire was growing.
