Characters:
 | Liesana |
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| Morallen |
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Teraille's Office
A certain grim tidiness permeates the decor of this office, its surfaces neat and orderly through sheer overpowering will. Her desk, centered in the small room, supports three wooden boxes; the one in the center bears a tiny plaque reading: Leave homework here. The other two are unmarked, but contain considerably more hide. The rest of her desk is bare save for an inkwell and pen. A low couch sits along one wall; above it stretches a shelf with a few dozen books, their titles always changing. Two chairs sit in front of her desk; a third rests against the wall opposite the couch.
Teraille is here.
Obvious exits:
Balcony Hallway
Liesana quietly slips in from the balcony hallway, a notebook under one arm, and the closest possible example of a shining schoolgirl expression on her face. "Good morning, Master Teraille." is her greeting as she steps through the doorway to stand in the office.
Teraille is seated behind her desk, an open book flat on the surface in front of her, a piece of hide beside it. One hand poised to jot down notes as the other carefully turns pages, but both motions stop as Liesana appears in the ajar door. Her gaze lifts to the senior apprentice, and she smiles. "Ah, Liesana," she says. "Come on in, have a seat. Get the door behind you, will you?" She marks her place in the book and swings it shut, rising to replace it on the shelf. "Are you early?" she queries. "I tend to lose track of time."
Liesana nods briefly, and closes the door behind her and sits, as directed, before nodding again, a trace of sheepishness perhaps apparent. Or perhaps not. "Yes, I am a bit early... I hope it's alright? I had a spare block of time this morning for studying, so I thought..." Voice trails off into an expansive shrug, with palms turned upwards.
"Oh, completely," Teraille says, returning to her desk and settling behind it. "I just wanted to be sure I hadn't wandered too far into senility yet." Her smile flashes for a few seconds, slightly wry. "Just into the book. I'm afraid I haven't pulled too much together as of yet, so I hope you're willing to bear with a slightly scattered lesson." Her fingers trace over the hide on which she was writing, an absent gesture. "Courtroom law, we'd said, yes?"
"A slightly scattered lesson is much preferable to none at all," smiles Liesana, pulling out her notebook, and resting it atop a knee. "And yes, it was courtroom law." A rummage commences through the carrysack on the floor beside her, until she emerges triumphantly with a quill, and a small jar of ink. The battle with the bag is one, for the moment.
Teraille
A face lightly lined with both laughs and frowns reflects both types of moods equally well, showing the coming of middle age, but not the loss of youthful energy. Her brown hair has begun showing signs of gray, and has been cut short to frame her face, longer strands hanging beside her cheekbones and shortening in length towards the rear. Standing just shy of five feet, eight inches in height, she carries herself precisely, a form slowly trending towards plump still maintaining a regal bearing.
A simple shirt of white linen hangs to mid-thigh on her, its form loose and wistful. A hint of gathering at the waist gives it form, but by no definitions could it be called clingy. Plain blue ribbon circles her wrists, an inexpensive trace of color which matches the plain blue of the skirt which falls to her ankles. Simple brown boots cover her feet.
The blue and white on the harpercraft entwine on her shoulder, a dance of music and love which, in its loops and tassel, proclaim her a Master of the craft.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 5 minutes.
Carrying:
Teraille's Songbook
Teraille is 41 Turns, 3 months, and 16 days old.
Liesana
A slim, fine featured young woman of medium height. Long chestnut hair with a slight wave falls to the small of her back when she permits it to hang freely, and is accented by a pair of sidelocks dyed in a brown slightly lighter than her chestnut tresses. Amber eyes are set in a sculpted, expressive face, and sparkle with intelligence and a ready wit, and a delicate mouth is usually graced by a smile, though the expression can range from one of devilish mischief to a rare, wistful, expression. Liesana's complexion is clear, her skin light with olive undertones, and Ista's sun ensures that she often sports a tan. Hardly a fragile beauty, though, despite a petite frame. Slight callouses on her fingertips speak of long hours strumming her gitar, and there is an old-looking scar, rather large, on the underside of her left forearm.
Peasant-styled shirt of eye-catching white flutters loosely about her form, fitting closely only at the sleeves, and where a grey cloth vest cinches it in, leaving the hourglass of her figure clearly visible. The vest sports a vee-cut front, so that the lacings of the peasant shirt are also visible. Black denim slacks fit closely, leaving no excess fabric to flap irritatingly, and the outfit is completed by leather boots, also dyed black, that reach to mid-calf and are equally suited for riding or walking. Her hair is gathered in a low runner's tail, and small earrings of onyx stone glitter on her ears. Tail wrapped loosely around the neck of her human, Angelique perches on Liesana's right shoulder.
A knot of double cording, blue and white, formed into a single loop with a small tail, indicates the Liesana is a Senior Apprentice of the HarperCraft.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Brown Leather Carrysack Angelique
Liesana's Certificate
You notice Liesana gazing upon your form.
Liesana is 20 Turns and 3 days old.
"Well, I remembered that, at least," Teraille says brightly. "All right. There are any number of roles a harper can play in a courtroom -- barring witness and defendant, which have varying degrees of involvement with the actual practice of law. The three main ones, of course, are counsel for the prosecution, counsel for the defendant, and judge. A few others that are specifically harper tasks would include recorder and artist, but I'm not going to dwell on those overmuch, as they don't have much to do with your area of specialty."
Liesana nods, and after suitable preparing her quill, touches it to the paper of her notebook, recording briefly, and murmuring to herself under her breath. "Prosecution...defendant...judge... Right." A nod, and she once more looks upwards at Teraille, indicating that she's ready to move onwards.
Liesana *is logging this, incidentally
OOC: Teraille is, too. ;)
"I'll start," Teraille continues, "with a bit of a synopsis of the judge's role. The most important thing to remember is that in spite of appearances, unless the trial is being held in harper hall, the word of a harper judge is not final. It is usually followed, but as in all things, final decision reverts back to the authority in that area -- Lord, Weyrleader, or Craftmaster, as the case may be. Even if they call you in to serve as a judge and agree to abide by your judgment, they can reverse it for no reason greater than whim."
Liesana nods again, and dutifully paraphrases that under her heading of 'Judge'. "Mmmm... I was wondering about that last bit." is her comment, before once again shutting up, and regarding the Master, quill poised above the almost-pristine page, and her head just slightly tilted.
Teraille nods, then pauses to order her thoughts for a moment. "In a very real sense, there, the roles of judge and advisor overlap, and some parts of being an advisor are very necessary to being a judge, as well, particularly the elements of persuasion. Particularly if handing down an unpopular verdict, the harper must convince the Lord of their Hold to accept their decision, and many harpers find conscience warring with pragmatism here. Have you ever heard the saying: 'Never give an order you know will not be obeyed'? It applies to this, as well; never publicly give advise you know the Lord cannot accept. Others disagree with my opinion on this, however. I have grown into more of a pragmatist than an idealist, and most harpers are about ideals. You will have to find, through experience, where you sit most comfortably."
Once again, Liesana nods, re-inking her quill, and scratching away. "How much persuasion can we use, when dealing with Lords, Weyrleaders, et cetera? Is there a point where the manipulation becomes too much?" Her head tilts a little more to the side as she poses the question, setting an escaped lock of hair free to dangle over her shoulder.
Teraille's lips twitch upwards. "I'll have to see that you're signed up for one of my classes in persuasion," she says, an edge of humor in her voice. "That depends on the harper and the Lord." Lord has slipped into a default 'leader' definition. "Don't push so hard that you make him unreasonable, certainly, and bear in mind that there are decisions he cannot make for reasons that have nothing to do with morality and everything to do with politics." She pauses briefly. "Beyond that... use your conscience. You don't want to manipulate him into doing whatever you say, to the point where you are truly the Lord and he only your marionette. His judgment needs to be honored as much as yours. Try to persuade. Don't try to force. Does that help?"
Liesana smiles. "Quite a lot, thank you." This explanation is not paraphrased, as she's committed it to memory instead, for pondering later. Drumming her fingers once or twice against the cover of the notebook, she again takes up her 'listening' pose.
Teraille waits an extra second, to make sure the issue has settled in the senior apprentice's head before she continues. "As a judge," she says, "is the element of law where our famed impartiality comes most into play. You will be listening to two sets of arguments, and if you enter the courtroom with any preconceived notions, you would prejudice all of the proceedings." She pauses briefly. "A grave responsibility, really, given how many preconceived notions dwell in our head regularly. The tiniest things trigger emotional attachments. The judge's responsibility is to ignore them all. Some people believe in a gut reaction to a person, a sense of whether they are telling the truth. I believe that gut reaction they speak of is actually a reaction not to the person, but to the image of the person that you have -- and without logical reasoning to support it, I believe trusting that gut instinct to be a betrayal of a harper's neutrality." No mincing words here. "Until you have had a fair amount of experience, I would strongly advise against basing decisions on anything you cannot see and touch."
Liesana nods, then nods again, considering. "Does this mean that, until I have had experience, I shouldn't attempt to reach a decision in a case where there is only circumstantial evidence? Or can witnesses' testimony still be considered?" And then silence from her, as her quill once again dances across the page.
A faint grimace touches Teraille's face. "Witnesses' testimony con be considered," she says. "But try -- and I know it's not always possible -- to base their trustworthiness off of other factors that a gut feeling about them. Ask whether they have anything to gain by lying, how reliable their observations were likely to be, and whether their stories seem confused or self-contradictory. Don't just base it off of a feeling that one person seems more reliable than the other. Ask why you feel that way about them."
More nodding from Liesana. Hopefully, she won't injure her neck before the end of the lesson. "I see. One last question... How well would you have to know a witness, a defendant, whoever before you'd rule yourself impartial. I mean, naturally, if one's best friend was standing trial, one would be biased, but what of someone you know only vaguely, or by reputation. Can one honestly be able to distance themselves from preconceived ideas?"
Teraille's lips quirk upwards. "Never," she admits. "We do our fallible human best. And the question you ask depends an awful lot on the person and the circumstance. I put forth an example in a class years ago of a trial in which Caramak stood accused of making inappropriate comments to a young female apprentice. In that sort of case, I don't think anyone could be completely impartial. However, we have to try our best, and try not to flip over too far and betray the person we are afraid we would favor."
Liesana bobs her head once, then files that away as well, leaning forward slightly, and resting her chin on one hand, as she's momentarily run out of questions, and waits to hear more from the Law master, quietly shh'ing a waking green firelizard that had managed to beguile her way into joining her.
Teraille moves on willingly enough.
OOC: Teraille says "Um. More. ;)"
OOC: Liesana figured that. =)
Teraille moves on willingly enough. "The other two roles are a bit interesting in their applications of impartiality. You apply your impartiality towards developing a partiality towards your viewpoint. You are an orator, in the role of a counsel, and your job is to convince people that your side of the argument. There are rules, of course." Her hand waves towards the shelf. "Books full of them. And I'm not going to go over them now, as I expect you've been reading them some on your own -- and whether or not you half, you'll find that Journeyman Tolia has added them to your daily reading." Homework just miraculously appears around this woman, honestly.
Gulp. More reading? Ah well, reading can be accomplished in nice spots like the gardens or the beach... And maybe she can finally return 'Interpretations of the Charter' to it's well-deserved spot in the dusts of the Archives. "So there is almost a theatrical aspect to the role of counsel, one might argue?" Yep, another question, although not so deep as previous ones.
Thus spoke Liesana
"Definitely," Teraille agrees. "In fact, that was one of the next points I was going to try and hit, so I'll skip ahead to it now." She offers a brief smile, then steeples her fingers on the desk in front of her as she realigns her mental track. "There are certain things which are prone to affect a judge regardless of how hard she tries to remain impartial. And those are the theatrical elements of law. No matter how flimsy your case, speak clearly, stand up straight, make sure you are clean and well-groomed, and always do your best to seem fully convinced that you are in the right." She pauses briefly. "Regardless of what you actually believe."
Liesana nods. Again. And carefully records the suggestion in her notebook, after ticking them off on her fingers. "Fully convinced that I'm in the right... Yes, I see how that could be at times difficult. I suppose it comes down to the impartiality again." Scribbling finished, she inquires "How much of a role does eloquence play? Does a flowery speech help, or just irritate? Or does it depend on who's presiding?"
"It depends," Teraille responds. "Both on who's presiding and on what evidence you have. It you have a very tight case, lots of facts in which the other side will be trying to punch holes, presenting them sharply and without any room for negotiation can help. However, most of the evidence comes from the witnesses, and it is always best to advise them to speak naturally. If they seem stilted or uncomfortable, that will generally bias the judge against them." She pauses briefly, then notes, gently: "If it seems too strongly that you are not in the right, you can usually back out of a case without prejudice. Bear in mind, also, that your loyalty to your side extends only to the courtroom and events around it. Your feelings are not demanded, only your intellect."
"That could easily be a mercy," comments Liesana. "After reading through some of the worse cases recorded in the history books, I think my feelings would be distinctly in conflict with my responsibility as defense counsel were I to find myself dropped into those situations." A slight shudder. "Although I doubt the majority are like that."
Teraille's lips twitch upward. "It can go the other way, too," she notes. "I gained an amazing respect for Katja during the time she was serving as prosecuting attorney against me, when I was accused of embezzlement against Ista's tithes to the Weyr." Perhaps unnecessarily, she observes: "I was found not guilty."
Liesana smiles. "And thankfully so." Her notebook is still balanced delicately atop a knee, and she inquires once again. "What would you say the main differences between the prosecution and the defense are? Not the textbook definitions, I know those, but the mental, emotional, intellectual shifts that are made between them."
Teraille pauses to contemplate the question, her lips pressing lightly against her steepled fingers. "Interesting question," she says, not quite answering it yet. Her forehead creases slightly. "I suppose -- really, the difference for me is that I inevitably wind up more emotionally involved as the defense. You feel more as though you have to win; there is a person riding on it, more than just justice. It's also more exhausting just in the amount of work you need to do; a defendant tends to need the comfort of hearing how a case is going, while as a prosecutor, you have more autonomy, not as directly responding to another person." She pauses briefly. "Your approach also tends to change a bit. I find myself stressing the emotional slightly more when working for the defense; people can identify themselves with a human defendant more than an impersonal law, and it is a tool one can use." She pauses again, considering her answer as if about to add more, but finally just shakes her head, dispelling further thoughts. "Does that answer your question? I expect anyone you asked would have a slightly different answer."
Liesana ponders the response a long moment, letting the words rattle about her head as she resolves them into their meaning. "Yes... I suppose it does," she says slowly, with a smile. "As you said, anyone I ask would offer a slightly different answer, so I'll probably ask a few more people the same question... thank you for sharing /your/ thoughts/"
Teraille nods slightly. "The differences are mostly subtle, but most people develop a marked preference for one side or the other. I prefer to serve as prosecution. It permits me a more straightforward attack in most cases, and I don't get as emotionally tied up with everything." One of her hands frees itself to hook her hair back over her hair on one side. The other side swings forward slightly as the master leans forward, imposing a lopsided effect. "Others have a hard time dealing with that attack style; they can see their opponent sitting in front of them, the person whose life they're affecting, and that hurts them. You'll learn with experience which you prefer."
OOC: Teraille warns, btw, in case you hadn't already guessed, that this isn't stuff that should be applied overmuch to RL; I'm making 99.9% of it up on the spot. ;)
OOC: Liesana grins, and figured as much. But no worries, I'm a future vet, not a lawyer. =)
OOC: Teraille should wrap this up pretty soon, though; I still need to take my computer apart... ;)
Liesana nods as well, still leaning forward with a hand supporting her chin. "Yes, there seems to be quite a lot of things I'll learn as time passes..." No new writing has been added to the notebook as of late, and she offers a wry grin. "And I seem to be fresh out of questions on that particular facet now."
OOC: Liesana nods. Thanks for the time!
"Imagine that," Teraille quips, her tone dry. "Then I think I'll let you go and digest that. As I said, I'll be having Tolia add some things to your reading list; if you have questions about them, feel free to ask me."
Liesana nods, and stands from her chair, pushing it back into position. Notebook, pen and quill all disappear once more into the depths of her carrysack, and she straightens. "Thank you ever so much for you time, Master Teraille, and I'll be sure to hunt you up if I think of any more questions." Be afraid?
No, proud. Teraille dips her head. "You're welcome. Enjoy the rest of your day." And your freedom from drumheights duty.
"I will indeed," says Liesana, with a smile hinting that she, too, has thought of that little item. And then the senior apprentice vanishes out the door with a final respectful nod.