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Harper's Tale - Monday, April 29, 2002, 6:12 PM
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The Location: Smith's Great Hall

Niara slips softly in from the Class Room.

Kaira pads quietly into the great hall again, his hair pulled back into its pristine braid, set neatly between his shoulderblades. Looking around, he pauses again, still overcome by the Hall for some reason.

Liesana is seated at a table, working her way through a steadily diminishing stack of essays to mark. The occasional exasperated mutter can be heard rising from the Harper as she comes across some student's bit of grammatical or factual idiocy.

Niara slowly climbs the stairs, her nose pressed against a hide. Only the tiniest stumble occurs as she raises her foot to step up again...only to find that there were no more steps to climb. A distracted glance is thrown around the room to locate the food, and she starts off in the general direction, attention refocused on her hide and dodging tables and chairs with incredible accuracy.

Kaira smells food, the rumbling in his tummy becoming more audible, much to his dismay. Maybe he can blame it on one of his firelizards...which are nowhere to be found. Drat. He casts jeweltone amber eyes around the room, and takes a seat on a bench, setting his pack on the ground.

Liesana glances up, gives Kaira a nod, and then beckons over her fosterling with a quiet "Hullo there, Nia. What have you got your nose in today?" The essay she's working at is eyed distastefully, and a bit of rather biting sarcasm scrawled in the margin.

Niara fills a plate with sweet rolls one-handedly before joining her Mum. "Histories..." she mutters, finishing a rather convoluted sentence. Glancing up with a small grin, she notices the pile and Liesana's rather pained expression. "Grading again? Are they particularly bad this time?"

Liesana reaches over and snabbles a sweetroll before replying by way of a wan smile. "Let's say that you could likely do better. And they're senior apprentices." Ergh. That, and Liesana hates marking in any case. "So what histories, then? And is that one of Master Marlinest's torturously written books I spy?"

Niara shrugs her shoulders and flips to the cover. "I guess so...It's all about this fort and that one and the bloodlines and who begot this and that. Didn't they have anything else to do but begetting? I mean, the way this person writes it, all people did was sit around and begat? Oh, and make up horrifically long names. Really! Listen to this one! Framerouslingmar begat Fremerouslington who in turn begat Gremious upon his wife, the lady Genemine. What does that mean? 'Begat upon'? it sounds like he sat on her or something."

Liesana's marking is studiously ignored in favour of a chuckle. "Well, with the size of some of those Blood families, you have to wonder," she allows. "But 'begat' is an archaic term for 'sired a child'. Frankly, one should avoid archaic language at all costs, when writing records, in my opinion."

"Well, maybe it wasn't archaic when they wrote it..." with a little sigh she closes the book, pushing it away from as she does. "Why do words fall out of use like that anyway?"

Liesana rolls a shoulder. "New word become more popular, are used more often. If a word isn't used from day to day, it falls out of use rapidly. For instance," And here the Archivist looks as thought she's revealing a secret. "Did you know that back in the Second Pass, runnerbeasts were known as 'horses'?" Well, it is a secret. Liesana only found it after poking through some perfectly disgusting old hides that were copies of copies of copies in the Fort Archives.

Niara cocks her head as she ponders the information, a look of disgusted disbelief passing over her face at the word 'horses'. "What a stupid name. What does it mean anyway? Hoooorrrsssseees? I mean, it doesn't tell what they are or do..."

Liesana twinkles. "Well, what does 'feline' mean?" she inquires with a smile. "Or canine, or plenty of other animal names. 'Horses' are what the ancients called them, and if we could time it and go get one to talk to, they'd probably find 'runnerbeasts' just as strange. But there's an example of a word being forgotten."

Niara nods slowly, begrudging the concession just a little. "I suppose... It's just seems strange that there were people so long ago and so different from us... But they were probably a lot like us too, huh?"

Kaira comments as he pulls one leg up to rest the calf across the opposite thigh. "And Turns from now people will continue to wonder how strange we were. It is wise to be consistent in records. Otherwise history loses meaning."

Liesana chuckles. "History is never meaningless," she notes to Kaira. "And in pondering the differences, one realizes that there are fundamental similarities. And yes, that's about right, Nia. People are still driven by the same basic desires as they were back in the Ancient's times."

Kaira shrugs "Not if it has changed to the point where it is no longer a factual account. How do we really know that what we perceive as our past is truly our past?"

Niara shifts her attention from adult to adult, a worried frown starting to crease her brow. "But if we don't believe what is written down, what are we supposed ta believe? I mean, if it's important enough to write down, isn't it important enough to write down right?"

Liesana raises a hand. "That's why we have archivists. It's an archvist's job to write down events concisely, factually, and in clear language. Your copy of histories there covers only two of the three factors. But Marlinest was never a trained archivist. Just a historian who preferred to do his own research."

Kaira glances up as he occupies himself with his boot. "Has it ever occured to you that you may not be correct in all instances?" considering he shakes his head. "Of course it has not."

Niara snorts lightly, poking at the tome in question. "And just which two does he cover? Concise, he's not...neither is he clear." At Kaira's words, Niara bristles just slightly at the implied criticism of her Mum. "Just how many ways can you put it down? What happens happens and you can't say otherwise."

Kaira replies with a flat toned "That is not a correctly formed sentence." Kaira has a rather grating personality sometimes.

Liesana glances up to look cooly at Kaira. "Of course it has," she drawls. "And I freely admit it. But in the area of my specialty." she notes. "I had damn well better be right. Unless you're questioning the decisions of the Harper Masters regarding my competence. And Kaira, kindly leave my fosterling alone."

Kaira is unphased by Liesana's words. She should know by now he has no interest in them. "I have merely made a statement that if she is the foster child of a Senior Journeyman that her sentence skills should be of a higher quality."

Liesana smiles slightly. "Then let me make a statement," she notes, tone studiously polite. "You, sir, have a fingerroot lodged so far up your backside that your teeth are orange. Ignore him, Niara. His humanity was removed at birth."

Niara leans back at the correction, though she allows herself a slight smirk at Liesana's defense, but not a long lived one. Standing to her feet, she assumes a perfectly composed speaking stance, "I can speak with the greatest skill, when I deign to do so. I did not perceive a need to impress anyone with my ability, and thus the informality of my speech has left you with a false sense of my capabilities. Do not mistake my casualness for ignorance, SIR. Thank you, Mummsie. I don't think he could bother me..."

Kaira continues to pick at his bootlace. "I see the Harpers still resort to namecalling." as for the humanity part...he won't acknowledge her insult. "My teeth are quite clean."

Liesana doesn't really care. She's just gotten to use a line she's long wanted to deliver. A pleasant smile. "Name calling, sir? I don't recall calling you a single -name- at all." she notes, before collecting her essays. "I'll... leave you to wait for Evan in peace. I have a gitar to finish. Stay if you like, Nia." And then she's gone.

Kaira stands and shakes his head. "No...I will find another place to go. I would not want to inconvenience you with exposing you to my presence. It would be a shame if you were to learn that I am not what you perceive me to be."

Liesana snorts. "If you would stop pretending that you don't realize your actions and demeanour are off-putting, falsely superior, irritating, and vaguely offensive, then perhaps I could be convinced to tolerate your presence long enough to learn."

You go to the Harper's Workshop.

Harper's Workshop
Two large wooden doors take you into a large airy room, rather bare for now, but already touches of the Harper's art are apparent. Two workbenches stand against one long wall, various instruments in various stages of repair or disrepair atop them, works in progress all. Between them is a large cabinet for supplies, and in a corner sits a comfortable stool beside a blacked-board, with a braided rug for kiddies to sit on. Other corners hold an easel, a sand table and a book-case, and in the fourth, a spiral staircase takes one down to the den of the Harper Liason.
Polishes and wood stains mingle with old books and art supplies, lending a slight and sharp tang to the air.
Below, you see one person.
Clinging to a high beam is a brown firelizard.
Obvious exits:
Wooden Doors     Spiral Stairs

Niara slips softly in from the Class Room.

Liesana snorts again, like an irritable runnerbeast, as she drops the essays on her desk to finish later. "And here I thought that age improved a personality..." she notes dryly. "Sorry about that, Niara."

Niara barely manages to contain her...laughter? "*snort* Why? That was one of the most *giggle* impressive displays of wit I've ever seen. *snork* Who was that? You acted like you had known him or something..."

Liesana laughs dryly. "That," she notes, "Was Kaira. A former Harper apprentice who's decided he'd rather be a Smith instead. We've had a long standing battle, in that he thinks I'm arrogant, overconfident and flippant, and I think he's emotionless, humourless, and hidebound."

Niara crosses the room to place the volume on the bookshelf, sliding it in almost reverently. "Why would anyone want to be a smith if they could have been a harper..." One can tell from her tone that she truly considers other crafts a place for those who can't harper to settle.

Liesana smiles. "Because the Harper's path isn't for everyone. Kaira fit in like a square peg in a round hole. Or... a triangular peg, even. I think he might do better here at Smith."

Niara turns a confused frown on Liesana. "But there is so much a Harper does. Couldn't everyone find something they like to do? I mean, it's like going to a gather and not finding something you enjoy...It just doesn't make sense."