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Harper's Tale - Monday, February 04, 2002,
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Lord Warder's Office
Paled beach wood forms the stark lines that mark a new hand in the spaciously large office, a mix of cheerful rosewood and pale beach wood brightening the stone of the room. A large desk dominates the view, arranged in the corner to face both the entrance and a door that leads off to private rooms, scattered with hidework and surrounded by glowbaskets on stands should the light falling through the large window fall at night or be obscured by clouds in day. On the side of the wall stands a large white hearth, set deep into wall to hold a cozily crackling fire should Ista's temperatures verge on chilly. A variety of chairs and a small couch furnish seating for visitors around the middle of the area.
Lining the mantel of the fireplace is Ifrit.
Andron is here.
Obvious exits:
Admin Hall Private Rooms

A light knock sounds from the doorway, followed by an equally light voice. "Andron...? Do you have a moment?"

A vague noise, probably a yes, sounds arounda mouthful of some fruit, Andron currently bent over the desk poking at a few messages as if they will suddenly tell more. Bare feet wiggle cozily as his feet are tucked up underneath, and only after a moment does he glance up to see who it is.

Vague or no, Liesana takes it as an affirmative, opening the door just enough to slip around it, and brandishing a sheaf of hides with the laborious scrawl of an apprentice slav... er, copyist prominently displayed. "Good." she smiles, appropriating a chair after freeing it from some hides. "Because I have brought some wine with me, in the hopes we might mix businiess and pleasure. I've been doing a little research, you see... Forensic Archiving." She's really quite fond of the last term, rolling the words over her tongue.

"For--" Snapping his mouth shut around the word before he reveals his ignorance by asking about trees, Andron arches an eyebrow curiously instead as he slides his feet out and stands to tip his head at a chair. "Pull the chair over," he offers, giving the hidework a rather leary look. Not more! "What have you been researching?" he asks, taking a few steps over a pile or two of ledgers to grab two glasses -- clean even!

Liesana offers a quirk of a grin. "Just what I've been calling it." she reveals, pulling the chair over as indicated, and spreading out her hides. "Follow me along this path, if you will." she begins. "We know that a given person will use a given amount of food in a given month. We also know, if we average together a large number of people, we will have a median unit to look at, for a given item. Flour per person-month, for example." She glances sidelong at the Warder to see if he's following her. "We know that whoever's responsible for this current... difficulty must've falsified their reports. However if, like most criminals, they start small and work up, they probably did /not/ falsify the very earliest of records. My theory is that, if we establish a baseline average, and compare it to the records before the ones we /know/ to be false, we may be able to detect slight but significant variations from the accepted limits of the average, and follow them back to their starting point." Abruptly, she shifts topics, pulls a skin from her carrysack, and inquires "Wine?"

Andron follows, but only just -barely-. It takes a second after the asks the last question for the first to sink in, and as it does he pushes the glasses accross the desk with a faint smirk. "Okay. So basically compare how much people were supposed to use to how much they did use to find when the second started overcoming the first?" See? Smaller words. It helps. "It sounds feasible; have you tried that yet?"

Liesana uncorks the skin, and pours out two glasses. "Some of that new sparkling white from Benden." she qualifies, before giving a nod and a smile. "In layman's terms, yes. But laymen's terms don't sound /half/ as impressive..." she allows, looking quietly roguish. "And as for the second question, yes and no." she allows, moving the wineskin out of the way, and replacing it with her hides. "I've established the baselines using records from ten turns back, but I don't have copies of the more recent ones." She attempts a playful sort of puppydog look, drawling. "Not being /officially/ assigned to the case... Do you think you might share...?"

"A white? From Benden? My dear, if only I could marry you," Andron says cheerfully, reaching out to claim a glass and hold it loosely as he smirks. "For already you claim my heart." Beam. A line, naturally. "Impressive or not, I understand the layman's terms better." He nods his head over his shoulder at the piles that decorate his office with a faint smirk. "What's your specialty again? Laws and archiving? You might be perfect for this," he says, before quirking a curious look at her. "Case? I didn't know it was a case already. I thought it was just -- an anoyance."

Liesana twinkles. "Marry me? Indeed if only you could manage to settle down enough to ever do so." she allows with a sly grin. "And if I claim half the hearts I supposedly do, I'm surprised there aren't more males down in the Infirmary." Riposte dispatched, and therefore her end of the game upheld she gives a nod. "Indeed, Archives/Law. I could take or leave the archiving, but I unfortunately got stuck with a gift for it..." She lifts the sparkling wine to her lips in a mocking toast. "But, annoyance or case, you have me if you want me. I have my own fair neck to consider... Have you ever tried living with Smiths who have no klah?" a mock shudder.

Liesana arches an eyebrow. "Keep up with lines like that, and I might have to make yours a special exception." she grins wolfishly, but with amusement. "And you have my skills... As for the rest of me, we'll have to see, hmmm?" A wink, before she too sobers. "I shan't betray that trust." she assures. "But as for how I know... Despite outwards appearances, Harpers are trained to keep their mouths shut and their ears open, in important matters. I simply correlated a few random facts I've overheard. /You/ have been fussing over stores for a while, Arakiel has been having difficulty getting shipments in to Smith. The Weavers don't know what happened to a shipment of cloth bound for Smith, and many other little things you hear about. Put them all together, add in a sudden upward shift in security, and I think you have a smuggling problem." A smile. "Anywhere close, my Lord Warder?"

Muttering something vague about damned Harper curiousity, Andron blows a kiss in Liesana's direction with a lazy grin. "I have the feeling that had I asked you in the first place, I wouldn't have wasted a near-month going over my addition to make sure I wasn't just stupid," he says dryly, shaking his head. "Find, I give in. You're brilliant, and I'm as subtle as a board to the side of the head. I'd be delighted to have your help in this matter." He pauses, then smirks brightly, leaning forward to regards Liesana directly. "After all, it does mean more time with you."

Liesana catches the edge of the mutter and offers a beatific smile over the rim of her wineglass. "Not dense... simply a matter of training. You wouldn't ask me to mix drinks, would you, my dear former bartender?" Then it's back to businesslike with one of the wind shifts that Liesana seems to have mastered effortlessly. "Well then, now that I'm playing for the team, why don't you fill in your new shadow about the situation?"

Jueann walks in from the Admin Hall / Meeting Chambers.

Jueann knocks as she enters, "Can I bug you for a moment Andron? Ohh hello, Liesana, I hope i'm not intereuprting?"

"Mmm. I'm not fond of mixed drinks, so no," Andron teases in Liesana's direction, replying to something she'd said before Jueann had entered before glancing up to turn a smile on Jueann. "Ah. Come on in, you aren't interrupting. Liesana was just telling me how clever she is. Lies, Jueann could probably fill you in as well as I could, and where I have gaps, she undoubtedly knows the rest. Jueann -- it seems Liesana has joined our little conspiracy." Riiiight. Now they sound like the bad guys.

Jueann steps in, "oh? Really?" She looks confused, "I... I see... I think... How's it going?"

Liesana chuckles. "As I recall, it was /you/ calling me clever, Andron." she allows, standing briefly to whisk a few hides off the third chair in the office. "And hello, Master Jueann. I'd been doing a little research, and came up with a technique that could prove helpful to this affair, so I thought I'd let Andron know."

"I was reviewing some of the messages from the outlying holds; it seems Seacliffs and Paradise are doing well, although I haven't heard from Grinstead." Andron pauses to turn a grin on both the Harpers, the look decidedly wry. "Although I think I don't need to tell you how Gar is doing. Was there something you wanted or just coming by for a chat?" he asks, gaze shifting back to Jueann as he stands to get a third glass, slanting a look at Liesana. "Where'd you put that wine of yours?"

Jueann takes the offered chair, "Ohh wine would be fine. Did Snip came to you yet Andron?

Liesana reaches into her carrysack, and produces the asked-about skin, pouring a third glass, and then returning it to it's place. "Some of the new sparkling Benden white." she informs, before settling back with her own glass in hand to listen.

Andron shakes his head slightly, glancing over towards the door as if Jueann's words would summon the young Harper. "I haven't seen him for a while. Last I saw of him he was playing a drudge in the Mug, I think. Quite well, too. But -- no. I haven't had a report lately."

Jueann sighs, shaking her head, "That scamp has taken up with my daughter." She tucks a strand of hair behindher ear. "ohh thank you Andron. Wine would be nice." She looks like she hasn't slept much in the past few days.

Liesana chuckles lightly at the news. "We do train them to be charming." she offers mildly, before offering the poured glass of wine. "But what are the facts so far, if one of you doesn't mind bringing me up to speed?"

"With Sheanna?" Eyebrows arch and Andron makes a tsk-tsk noise, unable to help a faint smirk. "He better behave." Glancing back at Liesana, he laces his fingers on the surface of the desk and clears his throat. "In short? The facts are that the pilfering began small and seems to have increased of late, likely due to the turbulant leadership at Ista. It's been around since Efette's time it would seem, according to Jueann, and they seem to work mostly during the transporting of materials rather than stealing direction from the Hold."

Jueann nods, "he better. Sheanna is way too innocent for her own good." She sighs, rubbing her tired eyes, "I think I need eye lens. My eyes hurt. What did I come here? Ohh right. Snip he saw someone in the Heights flashing signals."

Liesana's eyes slip over to fasten on to Jueann as she speaks. "Was he able to identify the sort of signal used?" she queries, before nodding to Andron, musing that. "In that case, rather than applying the methods I developed to goods consumed, I'll have to revise, and take a look at the average figures for goods lost in transport." A wry chuckle. "Faisal and Hynolonie will adore me, I'm sure.

"She's a sweet girl," Andron says agreeably in Jueann's direction, smiling faintly before business gets his attention again. "Fire heights? Mmm. Would you suggest posting extra guards to keep that down or keeping things the same so that they don't know -that- has been discovered?" he asks curiously, cupping his head in one hand and looking between the two. "Perhaps Snip could keep an eye there instead to try and keep an eye on the signals and the persons sending them?"

Jueann sighs, "I'll let you and Snip decide what is best for him. I warned him to be careful." She rubs her eyes again, "he said something about them laying low for awhile because the stores are now under guard and better locks." She shakes her head, rubbing her eyes. "What did you find out Liesana?" Jueann never could stay on one subject.

Liesana glances over at Jueann, a slight tinge of concern to the expression. "If you need to delegate a little more, Master Jueann, I'd be happy to take a larger load..." she offers, before giving her report. "Not so much in the way of new evidence, but a technique that could help us find some. We know /what's/ been happening, we can guess at why and how, but it's /who/ that we really need to know. What I'm calling 'forensic archiving' can help pinpoint the 'when' more accurately, and can help turn up some suspects for 'who'. Basically, it's using records that we know to be sound to establish an average or median for a thing. Operating on the principle that the thieves started small, one can assume that they didn't have to start falsifying records until later. So if we find out what the average rate of loss is for shipments of different goods, and figure out what margin of error there is normally, we can look for a pattern where the margin increases, and then very suddenly drops back to normal, or most likely even better than normal, as the thieve would likely forget to figure normal losses into their faked records." See? She's getting better. She didn't use half the complex terms this time.

Andron tends to jump subjects as well, nodding once at Jueann with a faint grin, a mental note made to find Snip, before green eyes shift to Liesana again. Her entire report? It earns faintly glazed eyes, big words or not. "You might want to look at both the shipping and stores, actually," he says, supplying that in an overly helpful tone. See? He's clever! "To make sure that we aren't missing anything. Also, talk to Collin. He's devised a way to tell his traders from others, and you might want to see how that's resulted. It might help find the who."

Jueann sighs, "I'm almost through the records. And there isn't much to tell. Andron has all my findings to date. Talk went insane, Shanahan disappeared Ista hasn't been very fortunate with their men holders. The line seems to have gone from one mismanagement to another." Rubbing her eyes again, "I think I'llmake an appointment with the healers." She sighs, "Where were we?"

Liesana arches an eyebrow at Andron. "Hardly bodes well for you... Fortunately, you've never been one to follow tradition." she allows, raising her glass for a sip. "And as for where we were... I believe we were sharing findings, and planning the next move?"

"I'm just a baby sitter," Andron says with a laugh, fending off both words with al ift of his hands. "I watch the hold as warder, I'm not the holder. So I think I can avoid following that tradition," he says cheerfully, before nodding. "Jueann, I'm hearby ordering you to get some sleep and take a day off, and Liesana -- I have no idea what the next move should -be-. It would help if we knew who was doing it so that we could find out what's happened to the supplies, as well."

Andron (#21347)
Brightened by hints of autumnal gold, twin falls of amber wave to frame a triangular face, falling in front of ears pierced once on the right, twice on the left. The rest tumbles negligently behind, a bit too long to call chin-length and carrying the same subtle wave as the strands framing the gamin face. High cheekbones offset vaguely slanted, narrow eyes of a vivid jade green set below arching eyebrows of dark bronze. Skin a warm ivory, it hints at a natural paleness tinted by long exposure to the sun, also carrying the touch of a coral blush on generous lips, given to a smile. Height only just edging above average, those extra inches come by way of long, lean legs; lithe muscles mark the flat planes of the torso before a curve is tossed in almost feminine hips. Long and slender fingers on hands more often stained with ink than hard from work complete the image, prone to vague gestures.
You can't tell what he's wearing at this distance.
Andron is 22 Turns, 9 months, and 24 days old.

Liesana (#19291)
Almond shaped eyes of amber warmth glimmer brightly amidst fine and expressive features, while crimson-pink lips reflect a range of emotions, from devillish mischief to rare pensive moods. Liesana is petite, despite a medium stature of 16.2 hands, slim figure carrying not a trace of extra flesh, although her muscles are toned and well defined. She does lay claim to her share of feminine charms, however. Wavy chestnut hair falls to the small of her back, outlining an hourglass figure with a well formed, if small breast. Work is no stranger to her, nor good times: gitar born callouses on her fingertips and several old scars on her arms hint that here is one who does nothing halfheartedly.
You can't tell what she's wearing at this distance.
Liesana is 24 Turns, 5 months, and 23 days old.

Jueann (#5565)
A mid-average young woman in her mid-twenties. When she's asked abut her age, she'll smile and say, "A lady should have some secrets."
Her gentle and shy nature has blossomed into a gentle loveliness. She has a ready shy smile and now an even ready smile. But the wrong word or action will swipe that away.
Her brown doe-shaped eyes glows darkly of love and warmth. They once have a haunted look to them. Her plain mousy brown hair is pulled into a fat single braid. Wisps of escaped curly locks haloed her face.
Around her neck, one can almost see a necklace chain. The pendant of which rests over her heart and can't be seen. She normally carries with her in a leather pouch on her waist. Inside which she carries of parchment and a stylus for notes and lessons, also anything else she needs for the day.
You can't tell what she's wearing at this distance.
Jueann is 40 Turns and 6 days old.

Jueann sighs, "As you wish, Andron. I suggest you talk to Snip before you plan your next move. And find out his intention to Sheanna." She finishes her wine." She gives a tired smile, "I think.... uh... I think.... what was I thinking?"

Liesana offers a smile. "I'm sure Snip will act correctly and properly. Even if she /wasn't/ a Master's daughter." she notes. "But yes... I'll see if I can't get my baselines reset to account for the methods used, and I'll have a look over your recent records and apply my theory, Andron. I'll move into a corner of your office, if you don't want them copied or taken into the Hold proper."

"Maybe two days," Andron mutters under his breath, an amused look turned on Jueann, ever the absent-minded one. "I'll keep an eye out for Snip and his next report." Eyes gleam in Liesana's direction, definately amused. "You're more than welcome to set up shop, and if you like I can even see that a room is made up for you for those nights when you tend to work all the way through."

Jueann sighs and stands, slowly, "Well, you have everything in hand, then?" She blinks and looks very tired. "Hmm... maybe I can check that last ledger before... no... I need to see the healer... uhh... Julian should know..." she shakes her head as she heads out. "Thanks for the wine, Andron."

"Perhaps we shouldn't have given her the wine," Andron murmurs in an undertone towards Liesana again, before slanting a grin at Jueann. "Take care of yourself, Master Jueann. Without you, I'd have still been neck-deep in records and clueless as the reason for mis-matching columns."

Liesana nods slightly at Andron, before commenting full-voice that. "Thanks for the offer, but I was just planning on bunking in my cousin's old room over at the Hall. I don't think it's been reassigned yet." she muses, before giving Jueann another concerned nod. "Aye, take care of yourself. A sick Harper can spin no tales. Or sort through archives."

Jueann waves to Andron, "I'll try." giving Liesana, "I would like to see your reports when you are done too, uhhh Liesana." right this is Liesana. She heads out the door

Andron lifts the glass of wine to send an amused look at Jueann's back over the rim before taking a sip and shifting his gaze back to Liesana. "I keep the records in my room, usually, unless I'm working on something, which is locked. I've got the keys. However, you can knock, or stalk Yatyl, my steward, since he has the records I don't, if you need access. But most of the time I'll be in here." As evidenced by the piles, and PILES of hides and ledgers strewn across the room.

Liesana shakes her head slightly as Jueann heads out, still the trace of concern in her eyes, although it's quickly replaced by amusement. "Knock on the door, or stalk a steward. Stalking sounds rather amusing." she allows. "And you're in here most of the time. How could I possibly guess?" An Archivist's outrage at the state of the room is tempered with the knowledge that it's Andron's doing. And therefore impossible to change.

Jueann walks to the Admin Hall.

Andron grins unrepetantly, patting a pile on the desk with a smile. "You're clever like that. If you need to find something, I know where everything is, so just ask." The creed of the messy people: I know where everything is! Honest! "Although you might want to tell Yatyl to clear out the dancing boys, first," he drawls, smirking -very- decidedly.

Liesana lifts an eyebrow, inquiring with a deadpan innocence that "I thought we'd agreed to leave the dancing boys around as scenery for me...?" The innocence is ruined by a grin touching the corners of her lips. "But I'll be sure to ask. And don't be surprised if you return and find this organized properly some time. I have a regrettable habit of doing that to my workspaces."

"They might frighten Jueann," Andron returns, equally deadpan as he fights off the smirk teasing up the corner's of his lips. Finally he allows the grin to play accross, leaning back slightly. "That would be a task and a half. If you can do that, I have no doubts you can shut down any smuggling ring with a crook of your littlest finger."

Alain knocks at the door from the Admin Hall / Meeting Chambers.

Liesana chuckles. "And of course we must keep Jueann's sensibilities in mind..." she drawls, starting preliminary investigation of a strange piece of hide. "But as for smuggling rings... I've always thought them a good bit less cooperative than pieces of dead herdbeast skin. Want more wine?"

Alain walks in from the Admin Hall / Meeting Chambers.

"If you're offering? Of course." Sliding the glass accross the surface of the desk for a refill, Andron grins faintlyh, head tipping once. "Jueann's rather like her daughter, I've found, but both are rather sweet." He glances up then at the knock and subsequent arrival a briiiight grin flashed at Alain. "Now there's a face I haven't seen lately."

Liesana twinkles. "Of course I'm offering. Good wine is best shared." And, to demonstrate that, she once again pulls out the wineskin, and tops up both glasses. "And Jueann is definitely a sweetie. Most unlike the ladies of Smith Hall." she grins. "Or myself. Hello there, Alain. Have a glass with us?" With serious matters on hold, she's back to the Merry Harper persona.

Alain all of skids to a halt at the sight of...Andron. And then glances toward Liesana, and back to Andron. "I didn't know you were in here." he murmurs under his breath--clearly to Andron. "G'afternoon, Journeyman." he nods politely to Liesana, and then casts an uneasy glance toward the Lord Warder. "My appologies. I'll just...let myself out." What's this? Alain? Avoiding Andron? The wonders never cease.

"Where'd you expect me to be?" Andron drawls curiously, pulling the glass back towards himself to run a finger around the rim with a faint smirk. "You know how little I get out. Come. Sit down. We were just discussing vegetables." And the theft thereof! "Now, now, Liesana," he chides teasingly, green eyes turning on her with a faint smirk. "You should know better than to corrupt the innocent like that. I'm not so sure sweetie would be a word I would use to describe you. I think I'd pick a word implying a tarter edge."

Liesana lifts an eyebrow at Andron. "Are you calling me a tart, sir?" she drawls with a cool tone, but a roguish cast to her eyes, before giving a nod to Alain. "Do, sit. And ignore Andron and have some wine, if you like. I've plenty to spare."

Alain shakes his head slightly to Liesana, "No, ma'am, thanks. I'm not a big wine-drinker." He casts another odd glance Andron-wards and inches backwards toward the door. "It has been a while." he agrees softly with Andron, then continues, still in that oddly soft tone, "I...was just going to make sure I hadn't left my healertube...but I'm pretty sure I just remembered where it is." he murmurs, feeling around behind himself for the doorknob. "I'll just...let myself out." Grope. Grope grope...heh heh...

"I'd never say such about a lovely and talented woman such as you, Liesana," Andron says, a hand raised over his heart as if he's swearing to it. "Besides, you might come after me with a knife. You are posted at the smith hall." Glancing back at Alain then, he quirks an eyebrow and leans forward curiously. "You alright? You aren't getting sick, are you? Your voice sounds different. Were you busy being -sick-?"

Liesana arches the other eyebrow, just for a change. "Well." she allows with a wry humour. "I suppose it's comforting that even if my virtue fails to prevent you, Arakiel's training does..." She turns to peer curiously. "Sick? Trust me, get it looked at before it gets away from you... It's not like you have mentees to gang up on you and grag you to the Infirmary as a guest and not a proprietor, but... fellow apprentices are tricky beasts."

Alain shakes his head slightly, "Not sick." he murmurs, hand -finally- finding the doorknob. "Just...busy with...with other things and people I guess." And so saying, he offers another nod to Liesana and a little one to Andron. "G'afternoon." he murmurs, and slips from the room.

Alain walks to the Admin Hall.

"I have some sense of caution," Andron murmors with a faint, amused look at Liesana before his looks up sharply at Alain as he slips away. Half-standing to follow, he drops back into his chair with a faint sigh and shakes his head. "Wonder what he'd wanted? He didn't look sick, really."

"I think he might have told you... If there hadn't been another presence in the room. Despite my skill at keeping secrets. However, I can't really theorize, since the last time I saw Alain, he'd just finished decking you." Liesana muses. "Which is... obviously a rather far cry from the situation just at hand, I take it."

Andron's lips quirk, edging towards a decided smirk. "He threatened to deck me again not that long ago, so the situation isn't that different. He irritates me to no end, that's for sure," he says, shaking his head with an amused grin before glancing back at Liesana. "On a different note, how've you been other than nosy?"

Liesana chuckles. "He succeds at irritating you? I may have to see how he does it." she smiles beatifically, before draining a good quarter of her wineglass. "But as for myself? Nosy is what I do best, but I've also been learning to knife fight, attempting to teach Smiths to dance, ferrying pregnant friends to their new postings, and generally drinking life to the lees. Yourself?"

"He's very, very good at it, too," Andron says dryly, following suit to sip a fair bit from his own glass. "Learning to knife fight, eh? I used to be able to handle one, but I haven't in ages so I'm afraid I'd just embarress myself," he says with a laugh, before answering the last question with a silent point to the work piled in the office. "-That- is what I've been up to."

Liesana twinkles. "I'm hardly the stuff of legends." she comments with a laugh. "Or even of bedtime stories. But it's an interesting skill, and if 'When in Bitra, do as the Bitrans do', that applies double to Smith, I think." Another laugh at the piles of paperwork. "You know, one reason we organize it is so that it's easier to deal with." she allows. "Perhaps I could give you a private lesson or two, hmm?"

"And I'm hardly the stuff for even a tavern tale," Andron says with a quietly amused look at Liesana, stretching slightly before slouching cozily in his chair. "Somehow I suspect organization will be impossible--" Here he pauses to flash a broad grin, more than half leer. "Private lessons, however, from a lovely thing like you, would be impossible to turn down."

Liesana isn't above making a little use of her charms, if needs be. And she will /not/ be working in the middle of a rubbish heap, thank you very much. "Leave me to judge the impossible..." she smiles enigmatically. "All /you/ need to worry about is freeing yourself from my clutches after you've learnt your fill." she almost purrs, an odd combination of tone and words, but, for Liesana, it works.

Andron laughs quietly, shaking his head once with a second amused look. "I believe you once declared me impossible, as well as a variety of other things," he points out sweetly, straightening slightly. "And I can't imagine any person possibly trying to free themselves from your clutches, but rather runing into them," he adds teasiingly, tipping a wink with the words.

Liesana chuckles. "Incorrigible, my dear. Incorrigible, not impossible." she clarifies. "And pray tell, why should you think so, when my clutches are empty at the moment, hmm?" Meanwhile, in the midst of all of this archness, she's been flipping through hides, sorting them into two piles of 'useful' and 'useless', according to her parameters.

"It's momentary, I'm sure," Andron says with a faint smirk, resting an elbow on the edge of the desk as he eyes the piles Liesana makes, shaking his head with a laugh as a mesage or two from the useless pile are rescued. "And incorrigible, impossible -- it's all the same thing, you're just fond of using big words." So there.

Alain walks in from the Admin Hall / Meeting Chambers.

Liesana shrugs. "Of course I am. Harpers learn them, I may as well use them, my dear incorrigible Lord Warder." She continues to sort through the hides.

"You'll have to teach me then," Andron murmurs, lips still curved upwards in an apparently near permanent smirk, paperwork shifted through in search of the most recent messages. "And I'm your dear, am I? My, my. What would Kryz say about that?" he asks teasingly.

Alain slams through the door, slamming it shut behind himself with a resounding bang and rounds on Andron, positively shaking, his fists clenched. "That's it." he announces, hardly giving Liesana a glance. "I said I didn't care, okay? I said that I wasn't going to argue with you about it, but this is the second time you've done this right in front of my face. I guess it's my fault for actually giving a damn but--" he breaks off, with a glance toward Liesana--and her knot--and turns back to glare at Andron. "Make up your mind right now. Yes or no?" (Think Shinigami.)

While Andron might've been absorbed in paper--or rather, hide--work enough to miss a quiet entrance, there's no way he's going to miss Alain. He jumps, drops the page he'd been holding as his head lifts up sharply, green eyes narrowed. When he sees who it is he relaxes, at first, then tenses back up and -- well, just looks confused. "Done what? Yes or now what?"

Alain continues shaking--if anything, does so more--and his fists tighten a little more. (Not a good sign.) "You know what the crackdust I'm talking about you jackass. Now you've said twice you think so. So make up your mind. Do. you. or. not." His tone is flat, though shaking with emotion--likely anger--and his eyes could be trying to bore holes in Andron's for all the look he's giving the man. Liesana is summarily ignored for the moment. If Andron wants to have this moment in silence, he'd darn well better drag Alain off somewhere else to punch him.

Liesana glances up from her sorting, regarding Alain with a cool interest. It's been a while since she's seen him in action. "Perhaps you could cool down and discuss this rationally...?" she queries, Nosy Harper as usual.

"No, I don--" Pause. "Ohhhhh." Now Andron begins to see. A look is slanted at Liesana, a quiet half-smile that's a sort of thanks for trying, before he glances back over at Alain thoughtfully. "While there are more polite ways of asking, I'll answer anyway. I -think- so. But my guess is that isn't good enough."

Alain's fists, having been tightening over the last few seconds, are now white in the knuckles. At Andron's words, his face goes--not red--but white, and his eyes go a lighter shade of blue than one may have thought possible. He takes three quick steps forward, hauling back his fist as he moves, and sends a punch--most of his weight thrown into it--at Andron's head. As soon as he makes contact, he throws himself across the desk to grab Andron by the collar in what would seem an attempt to drag the man out of his seat and across the desk for another blow.

Liesana, meanwhile, has been watching the situation build, sizing things up apparently, for as Alain makes his move, the Harper slips forwards with a dancer's grace, and clamps one hand on the back of /Alain's/ collar, giving him a shark jerk backwards as he lunges across the desk. "Don't mess up my hides!" she barks. "Now sit down and talk before I reposrt you to your superiors for breaking your oaths." she snaps out in a stentorian tone rarely heard and rather startling.

Andron , of course, already had the one punch hit that sends his head snapping back and leaves him utterly dazed. You'd think he'd be used to it by now, but noooo--. It's a good thing Liesana was there to save him, so to speak, since he's only capable of lifting a hand to his cheek and staring quietly at Alain -- while moving the wine glass out of the way of further scuffles. Oi. "Well that makes two," he finally says, tone D-R-Y.

Taylias sweeps in from the Private Rooms.

Alain thrashes backwards with one hand to free himself of the strangle-hold of his collar and catches Liesana in the lip, his other hand still firmly on Andron's collar. As he realizes that he's just managed to hit a -girl- he freezes, the front of Andron's tunic still clutched in his fist, and his eyes wide as he turns to peer at Liesana. "Oh...proddy...firelizard--" he murmurs, and gapes some more...

Oh dear. What /has/ Taylias emerged into? Yeah, he's been being lazy and hanging out in Andron's room. It's nice to be able to sleep the day away like that. Yup. Blinking though, he stands in the doorway, nearly gawking at the scene. Brows raise, dark hair tossed over his shoulder. "Well now I at least know what all the noise out here was..."

Liesana totters back slightly as Alain's fist connects, but remains on her feet, the blow having been mostly deflected. Still, it's with a trickle of blood from a split lip that the Harper re-takes her grip on Alain's collar, and does her 5'6" best to frogmarch him over to a chair, growling something unintelligible. "I /said/, Don't. Mess. Up. My. Hides." she intones pointedly, sparing a hand to swipe away the blood. "Now, Sit. Down. And. Talk. Or I will call in the guards. Do you know the penalty for attacking a Lord of a Hold?"

Insert one frozen Andron. Carefully he pries Alain's fingers off of his shirt, falling back into the chair with a faint sigh at the sound of Taylias voice. "Nice timing," he mutters under his breath, glancing back over his shoulder before slanting a look at Liesana. "I'm not the Lo--" Wait, yes he is. "Uhm, talk is a good idea," he agrees weakly, looking as if he'd like to crawl under his desk.

Wait a minute. /Attack/ the Lord? Oh dear. Who cares if his 'timing' is nice? Taylias frowns just a bit, meandering away from the door to briefly lean over Andron's chair, taking a peek at him. "You alright?" Eye. Hm. Eyeeeeee. He straightsns back up again, head tilting as he peers at Alain. Is he going to leave? Nope. He's far too interested in this now, especially those involved. "Apparantly is three to one in favor of talking." Oh look, a desk corner. And the weyrboy promptly sits on it.

Alain glances at the door to Andron's room at Taylias's words and his face goes from white to...whiter--his lips even going white. He offers absolutely no resistance to Liesana as she drags him backwards and summarilly throws him into a chair. And he just sits there...looking about ready to have a heart attack...and begins to shake a little...with an entirely different look on his face...one of complete horror and shock, not protesting in the least.

Liesana's expression becomes one of great enlightenment as the scene unfolds. One marred only by the thin trickle of blood still seeping from her lip. She pulls out a handerchief and dabs at it while circling Alain's chair, any hint of her normal Jolly Harper pose quite vanished. "About what I thought." she comments, purposely misinterpreting the whiteness. "Now. I will agree to let what happens behind closed doors remain behind them IF you will take your immature, insecure little hide OUT the door, and return ONLY when you are able to converse in a CIVILIZED manner. Dismissed."

The healer's reaction to Taylias' entry is spotted by Andron, at least, and it's with a quiet mutter that he makes if to hit his head against the back of his chair. He doesn't, though, amazingly, and instead slides out of the chair, moving carefully with a faint sigh. "I'm fine, Taylias, thanks. I don't suppose I could convince you to go win something cold out of the cooks or something for my cheek?" He seems willing to let Liesana deal with Alain -- more than willing, to tell the truth, since he's not meeting the other's gaze.

Taylias nods slightly where he sits, though his eyes are on Alain, frowning a little at the 'pale as a sheet' look. "Yeah, I'll do that." Nope, no smart remarks from him at the moment. He wants to know what in Faranth's name just happened, and he'll definately be trying to find out when he gets back with what Andron needs. Standing up, he turns, sweeping away out, heading for the kitchens and a rather brisk walk.

Alain sits quite still, just barely trembling, and remains quite white, his eyes beginning to look glazed over. After a very long, very quiet moment, he pushes himself laboriously to his feet, looking about ready to collapse, and affords Liesana a jerky nod. His voice sounds dry, weak, and strained as he softly replies, "I'll...go tell Master Jaqui what happened." Then, as though being herded out of the room by some unseen guard, he turns, feet dragging, face still ashen, and shuffles out of the room.

"What do you mean, about what I thought?" Andron asks, gaze shifting from Alain's back to the Harper while he takes a seat on one of the chairs, amazingly free from the clutter that pervades the rest of his office. Probably because it's the one Jueann was sitting in earlier.

Liesana waits for Alain to clear the room, maintaining her Interrogation stance until the door shuts behind her, and then sinking wearily into the chair he's just left, poking experimentally at her lip. "Ouch." she comments, sounding oddly surprised. A tentative smile for Andron, curtailed at a twinge from the split. "Oh, that... Just leading him on. Pretending he was reacting to my threat about punishment, rather than the," a hand takes in the room. "Obvious."

And Taylias will return! What'd he do, walk out the door, and run the rest of the way? ...Maybe. Ahem. Striding through the doorway again, he carries with him an ice pack. Isn't he nice? Making his way around the desk, he holds it out for Andron. "Someone wanna tell me what just happened?"

"Obvious to you, perhaps," Andron mutters as he lightly fingers the slowly redenning mark on his face. "That's going to leave a bruise," he mutters, taking the ice pack to apply it to his face after wrapping it in -- a hide. How.. handy. "You a'right, Lies?" he asks a moment later, glancing over at the Harper.

Jaqui knocks at the door from the Admin Hall / Meeting Chambers.

Liesana winces. More at the shocking use of a hide, then at any pain. "Please tell me." she inquires with a dry resignation. "That wasn't anything /important/." Even in small doses, the Archives virus is potent. "But I'll live. I've gotten worse in my time." she allows, taking out her handkerchief again, and applying pressure neatly. "However, I don't think we've been intoduced." she allows in Taylias' direction. "Liesana, Harper Journeyman."

Jaqui walks quietly in from the Admin Hall / Meeting Chambers.

Judithe glides in from the Admin Hall / Meeting Chambers.

Taylias lifts a brow slightly at Andron as the ice pack is taken. "..You're welcome." Ahem. Snort. Well then. Head is turned a bit, brushing raven locks away from his eyes before the weyrboy looks at Liesana, nodding. "Taylias. You want anything for that too, by the way?" Though he plops himself right back down on the edge of the desk again.

Sparing a moment to take the hide back off and look at it, Andron flashes a smirk in Liesana's direction. "Just an old message I was working on," he says dryly, before leaning up against the chair and turning a grin on Taylias. "-Thank you-, Taylias. And Taylias, that's Liesana, a Harper journeywoman who's quite too clever for her own good."

Liesana nods at Taylias, and utters a "Well met" around her handkerchief, which is still being held neatly against her lip. "And Andron dear, I think you'd be singing a different tune if I'd not pulled him off you." Offeres the Harper serenely, before giving a nod to Jaqui, and hurriedly hiding a wickedly amused smile behind her handkerchief.

Jaqui steps just inside the office, taking in the scene before her for a moment and then blinks, looking from Taylias perched on the desk, Liesana and her handkerchiefed lip and Andron with his ice pack. She gives a shake of her head, surpressing at the moment her healer instinct to immediately treat any injuries. She straightens up and then clears her throat. "May I have a word with you Lord Warder Andron?"

The amused smile is not so easily hid, and Andron spies Liesana's look, shooting her a dirty look in return before grinning again. "Ah, and thank -you- for your assistance," he says, before nodding slightly in Jaqui's direction, pondering lowering the cold pack to look less, ah, injured, or giving in to creature comforts. Comfort wins out, of course, and keeps it on while waving her to a nearby -- record covered -- chair. "Of course, Crafthead Jaqui," he returns, words somewhat stilted before he makes a face. "And just call me Andron. What is it?"

Taylias offers a faint smile for Andron, nodding. Yes. Recognition is a /good/ thing, thank you. Hmpf. Blinking, he turns his head a little bit to look at Jaqui, smiling just a bit and waving. "'Lo there." Grin. Well, he's not injured, he can be pleasant.

Liesana's eyes dance unrepentantly at Andron a moment, nodding a slight, sardonic 'thanks' before returning to a listening pose and experimentally poking at her lip.

Jaqui approaches Andron as she is waved over, nodding to the other two but looking from them to Andron and back again. She approaches close enough to speak softly to Andron without being overheard. She turns to the other two with an apologetic look, "I'll only be a few moments," she says and then she turns back to Andron, lowering her voice to be heard by him alone. "Master Jueann is currently sleeping in my room in the Healer Hall. She was given strict instructions that she was to sleep herself out and not to return to work until she had. She was overly tired and needed some uninterrupted sleep. She was quite concerned about your not getting a report from her on time, and about your needing," and here the Master looks quite perplexed, "a snip. She wasn't making a whole lot of sense, so I'm sure she was worried about the report, the other, I'm not so sure about."

Andron chokes quietly on a laugh at the bit about a snip, managing to keep it back to a quiet snort of laughter before he relaxes slightly. "Good. She did get to sleep then. I'd told her to take the day off, and tommorow as well, and get some -sleep-," he says, tone similarly lowered but not un-over-hearably so. "Make sure she takes care of herself, eh? She's a good person, and valuable to the holder nad her craft as well," he says with a faint smirk. "I'd make sure she's eating, too, and not staying up with hidework and forgetting about such things. Tell her not to worry about the reports as Liesana will be helping in our efforts as well." Vague? A bit.

Taylias smirks faintly to himself a bit, carefully twining a bit of hair around a finger. Hm, wonder if /Andron/ is getting enough sleep? Hm..

Jaqui gives a nod, and continuing in her quiet voice. "I told her you would understand and wouldn't mind at all." Jaqui is a healer, she's been taught how to keep things confidential, so even if something slipped out of Jueann's mouth that shouldn't have, it will go no farther then the Healer. "I've told her that if I have to I'd post an apprentice outside the door to make sure she sleeps, but she fell asleep so fast upon hitting the bed, I don't think she's going to stir for a while." With that the Master straightens up, looking again apologetic to the others in the room. "If there is nothing else Sir, I will return to the Hall. If you need anything," and she glances from the ice to the handkerchief again, "You know where I am."

Andron fidgets like a young boy who has been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, actually turning a bit to hide the ice from Jaqui before flashing a smile and nodding slightly. "Thank you for telling me. I'm sure you have much more pressing duties back at the Hall, but do make sure she's not getting sick with all the work she undertakes." He stands then with a slight smile to nod at the stacks of paperwork strewn about his office. "As I have duties," he adds dryly, moving back around the desk to lean on the chair there. "Good day, Healer, and thanks."

Jaqui gives a nod both to Andron and then to the other two in the room before she walks back out the door, her mission accomplished.

Jaqui walks quietly to the Admin Hall.