Liesana bustles in from parts elsewhere, hides, sheets of flimsies, and a large, plumy quill pen dangling from various bits of her, as well as a green-and-gold fabric /something/ draped over one arm. And she's also sporting a vaguely harried expression. Apparently the bastion of calm serenity that was Liesana has gone to pieces at last. "Hey Kryz, 'lo Anjula. Whew!" The chestnut-maned harper collapses on the nearest chair.

Meanwhile, the flustered mess that was once Kryz is nothing but a calm quiet pile laying on top of one of the large tables. A pile of clothing are laying at the end in a wrinkled mess, not that he really seems to care. His arm is layed over his eyes blocking the light from comeing through as he treid to get some last minute rest. "Hey, Lies," he mutters from beneath the arm without even looking up. "I dunno about you, but I'm beat. We'll be luck if I last through the day."

Anjula flashes a quick smile at Liesana. "Hello," she says before walking over and begins to fold Kryz's clothes into a somewhat nicer pile mummbling sometihng along the lines of what a slob he can be.

Liesana's left foot starts tapping against the floor, all of it's own accord. She carefully places the green-and-gold dress on a non-paint-splattered section of the table, and then sets about organizing her hides and flimsies. When in doubt, organize? Perhaps... Kryz is given a wry grin. "I envy you the ability to sleep! I've been up since dawn, and was tossing and turning before that." A small carafe is produced from nowhere,though, along with a couple of mugs. "I brought some klah down from the lounge. Want some?" This is the burn-a-hole-through-the-kettle variety.

Kryz looks up, and moves to the end of the table. Still laying on his back, his head hangs from the table as he takes a look at her. "Geez, Lies. you look like a mess if you dont mind me saying so." He then looks at the cups ands says, "I don't tihnk you need any klah, though i'l take a cup. Pour one for Anjula too. She was a doll and was nice enough to come and help us set up." A smile is flashed her way, not that she could see from the way he's laying.

Anjula takes a look at the black fabric she just folded, then to the green dress Lies brought in. "Oh, Kryz!! you should have chosen sometihng green to wear!" she says before walking over and taking a closer look at Lies's dress. "Oh, this is so pretty!"

Liesana smiles, and does so, pushing a few strands of hair out of the way as she goes. The klah is poured, and one mug handed to Anjula, the other scooted down the table length to Kryz. This is why she only filled it half full... A pleased note enters the smile at Anjula's fashion-wise commenting. "Why thank you, I did the basic design work myself, although I let the Weavers refine it." A self-deprecating wave. "Hopefully it'll be suitable. I hate dresses."

Anjula wrinkles her nose. "I hate dresses too. I refuse to wear them! You'll be lucky if I even dress up for this," she pause then adds, "but I really think Kryz should get something a little nicer. Though green would actualy clash with his hair.... I'm niot sure." She then takes the cups and sips from it. "Well, I didn't come here to pick out clothes, I came to help move painting so I suppose he can wear what he wants."

"Dresses." intones Liesana portentiously "Are the single most useless invention on the face of Pern. However." And she picks up the green and gold uselessness again with a grin "I think I'd better go change." With that, she whisks out, returning a few moments later, slightly out of breath, and clad for a gala. "So, where are these paintings, and where are we putting them?" Rubbing her palms together, she apparently misses the fact that she's not really dressed fo work anymore.

You notice Kryz gazing upon your form.

Kryz looks Lies from head to toe, then says, "Geez, Lies, you look great, but are you really going to setup wearing that?" He hops off the table, then thrashes his head to the corner. "We have to move these out there," he explains to the large stacks of frames and canvasses leaning against the wall.

Fennara slips silently in from the Main Hall.

Fennara saunters in after her long walk from Grinstead...and dumps her pack on the floor. Grinning as she sees her friends hard at work she waves. "Thought you might need some help...."

Liesana grins, and pirouettes in a swishing of green cloth. "Why thank you, I rather thought so myself." she twinkles, before eyeing the canvasses. "I don't see why not... It's not like we're moving stone carvings or anything too heavy..." Voice trails off into a face-stretching smile at the sight of Fennara. "Hey! Good to see you, and for sure we do!"

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. A delicate mouth is usually graced by a smile, though the expression can range from one of devillish mischief to a rare, wistful expression. Liesana's complexion is clear, her skin light with olive undertones, and often sporting 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 a large scar, old by the looks of it, on the underside of her left forearm, left visible if she chooses to wear short sleeves.
Forest green velvet rustles over Liesana's gala dress, accentuating her figure without being blatant. A low, round neckline shows just a hint of cleavage, drawing attention subtly through a border of tiny leaves embroidered in gold thread. Below, a bodice is laced simply with gold ribbon, measured to snugness but hopefully not tight enough to cut off circulation. The dress top is almost form fitting, except for the long sleeves that widen suddenly at the wrist, complete with embroidered gold leaf motif. The dress becomes more conservative further down as the green velvet gathers at Lies' waist, and is let out in a cascade of volumnous fabric that parts gradually to reveal an underskirt of lighter green and swishes along the floor to cover harper feet. 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:
Angelique
Histories of the Istan Harpercraft ~ Middle Tenth Pass
You notice Liesana gazing upon your form.
Liesana is 20 Turns, 6 months, and 22 days old.

Kryz
You see a clean-shaven, well built young man in front of you. He has a mature look for his age, though if youd know him, hes anything but that. The childish grin that often appears on his face show his true personality. His turquoise hair is roughly cut just long enough to hang is his eyes and sticks out in all directions, with the exception of one braid behind his right ear that hangs quite a few feet longer. Colorful beads have been woven into the braid with a thin piece of twine tying the end. His skin is the palest shade possible, without being unhealthy. White paint, outlined with a thin line of black, decorate his face and arms in careful patterns.
He is wearing a white sleeveless shirt, making the marks even more visible. The white paint curves and wraps around his upper arm in intricate patterns. He wears tight leather gloves, the fingers cut off so they wont get in his way of painting. His shirt hangs over black leather pants that cover up his normal boots. His right ear is decorated from top to bottom with countless numbers of earrings. The left only supports two small hoops at the top and bottom. His hair is held back with a red bandana, though it still often gets in his way. A large, strong rucksack appears full, hanging heavilly over his shoulders. One of the many Old Paintbrushes is set behind Kryz's ear.
Kryz wears the knot of a Harper Senior Apprentice.
He is awake, but has been staring off into space for 5 minutes.
Carrying:
Ruff'n Tumble Rucksack Friendship Medallion
Old Paintbrushes Paintbrushes
Belt Knife <sheathed>
Kryz is 20 Turns, 1 month, and 11 days old.

Kryz glances over from where he was starting to move the canvases at the sound of that voice. "Fenn!" he all but shouts as he dashes across the room to give her a quick hug. "I haven't seen you in forever!! How are you?" and in an instant Kryz totally forgets about any work that may need to be done.

Fennara
Although her 5'7 frame is slender, she is toned and deceptively strong, through long hours of disciplined dance practise. Her skin, although fair, has been tanned golden in the Istan sunshine. She has serious grey eyes, framed with dark lashes, which on closer inspection reveal considerable warmth andhumour. Shapely brows too often betray her thoughts and feelings. Her light brown hair, glinting with highlights of honey, falls softly, in waves, to her waist, and quite often is tossed carelessly over a shoulder. She has a single-minded approach to life, seeking to excel at whatever task she sets herself, and displays an air of quiet determination. However, her sometimes shy smile is warm and infectious, and though her sense of humour can be sharp, she enjoys a good laugh among friends.
Her slim form is accentuated by her outfit, a dress not often seen and kept only for the most special of occasions. Figure hugging, it is sleeveless with a scooped, rounded neckline, and falls to her ankles with a slit at the back for ease of walking. Made of a silken material it has been dyed a brilliant azure, although her movements promote turquoise and lilac highlights, giving the illusion that her body is clothed in ripples on the clearest of blue oceans. Slipping from her shoulders is a translucent wrap, embroidered with tiny crystal beads that glint under the light of glows, complementing the dress and keeping her from getting cold. Her hair, shining with health, cascades down her back in waves, with the occasional tendril falling forward over her shoulder.
She proudly wears the knot of a Senior Harper Apprentice
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 5 minutes.
Carrying:
Fennara's Pipes Songbook
Fenn's Rainstick Fenn's J'man Project - Ceilidh Dancing
Fennara is 20 Turns and 11 days old.

You notice Fennara gazing upon your form.

Liesana, standing with a canvas tucked under each arm, just shakes her head with a chuckle. Some things never change... A grin, and she steps over to Kryz, handing him one with another chuckle. "I'm sure we can catch up while we work...?" The other is offered ceremoniously to Fennara, and then she selects two more. "So, should we go set these up?"

Fennara is taken by surprise at Kryz's hug...he's not usually the demonstrative type..."Hey Kryz! So you all done and set up then? or do you want me to lug some pictures about for you?

Jorsa meanders in from the Main Hall.

Jorsa
You see a young man of about average height. His straight black hair falls to the small of his back and even though a good deal is tied back near the end with a white cloth, a few strands still fall around his face. Almost always having a smirk on his lips, an off-white bandage covers his right arm, from the palm and back of his hand to his forearm. His dark brown eyes go well with the deep tan that appears to be caused by obvious hard work out in the sun.
Jorsa tends to keep things somewhat simple and his clothes reflect that. Wearing a common tunic of a light shade of red, he has it tucked into a pair of brown pants obviously been used for working or traveling. On his feet he wears a set of sturdy work boots which are obviously been used for quite some time. For some odd reason a dark red stain is around a small hole in the one leg of his pants. A fishbone is, as usual, held between his teeth, sticking out of his mouth. A long brown travelling coat hangs over Jorsa's shoulders. It is dust covered, but suitable as protection from the elements. Although it is incredibly hard to see, there appears to be an item or two hidden in the pockets...
Upon the shoulder of his coat is a double cord, single loop, sea blue and white knot of the Seacraft. The small tail and tassle show Jorsa to be a posted Senior Apprentice and woven into one cord is ribbons of cranberry red and midnight blue to show the ship he's a crewmember of, the Celestial Seafarer. An extra tassle of those same colors signify him to be the ship's first mate. In the other cord are ribbons of light and dark blue for Paradise Hold, where the ship's home port is.
He is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Fishbone Lynx
Travelling Coat
Jorsa is 22 Turns, 9 months, and 27 days old.

Zella walks in from the Main Hall.

Zella
Long, bright red hair, streaked with lines of glistening white, hangs past the waist of the 5'5 teenager. Short bangs rest just above her emerald green eyes, which stand out against cream-colored skin as they dart from person to thing. Freckles dust her small nose, and then spread lavishly onto her cheeks. Her full, red lips sit in a smirk, not as if she is disdaining those around her, but as if she is plotting some event.
The girl wears a dark green skirt and top, decorated with multi-colored flowers. Soft white slippers cover her feet. Hovering energetically around her shoulder is Van Gogh. Sophocles attempts to burrow under the starcrafter's red tresses.
Zella wears the knot of a StarCraft Apprentice.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Zella's Distanceviewer,  Sophocles
Van Gogh,  Shadow
Zella is 17 Turns, 4 months, and 22 days old.

Kryz takes the paintings that are shoved into his hands. "Actually, we're just starting." he says with a slight grin. "Though I don;t really know if you're dressed to do work," he adds, another glance shot back at Lies's dress. "Not that she is either...."

Caramak walks in from the Main Hall.

Liesana grins, and hefts her own paintings. "Dresses are evil, therefore I will attempt to ignore the fact that I'm wearing one." Nods are given to the latest arrivals. "Hello and good day to you! Have you come for the presentation gala?" Watch out, ye visitors, Liesana might just put you to work. And then a bow is converted to an awkward curtsey as a master arrives. "Good Day!"

Zella follows Jorsa into the hall, smiling curiously as she peers around her. "Is that him?" She whispers to Jorsa as they walk into the workshop, nodding at the seacrafter's response. She smiles and nods toward Liesana. "Thank you..." she replies before returning to an unusual quiet in the unfamiliar setting.

Caramak enters sedately, unburdened by instruments or hides for a change. He responds to Liesana's greeting with a dip of his head in acknowledgement and a smile. "Afternoon. I'm glad I seem to have made it in time..."

Tolia follows Caramak in, her step quiet in soft slippers. "Hey, guys. You all ready?" She steps over to a worktable, greeting the apprentices with a smile.

Fennara looks at Liesana's dress approvingly...."The colour is beautiful...it really suits you, Lies." her smile becomes shy as the Master speaks and she makes the appropriate curtsy.

An expression of profound relief crosses Liesana's features at the arrival of her cousin-turned-mentor, although the nervousness implied in the expression is quixkly hidden by a wry grin. "After that, I guess we're as ready as we'll ever be." A third and fourth painting are grabbed. Along with her book in it's carrysack, it's enough of a load that one hopes she won't meet up with a stiff wind.

"Yes, you do," Oli agrees easily. "Is everything ready to be just hung up? We're using the ballroom, right?" Her questioning gaze falls upon Caramak.

You notice Kryz gazing upon your form.

"The one with the painting? Yeah that's him. Seems the presentation is bringing a large crowd..." Jorsa says to Zella as he keeps to the wall and out of the way so as to provide room for others to move around in, he ponders the possibility of doing any actual work before shrugging and moves a little in, "Guess any help at all will suffice then? What do you need me to do?"

Caramak dips his head again as a brief wave of greetings go his way, attempting to mak eye contact with those he catches sending salutations his way. "Mmm?" He turns to Tolia as he detects a question in his general direction. "I'd thought so, but saw activity in here, so I thought I'd come in. Can I help carry anything out then?" Craftsecond, pack mule, close enough if he's offering.

Zella peers around at the audience, nodding slowly as she leans against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, and chews on the tips of red locks. An eyebrow raises at Jorsa's offering, and she pushes herself from the wall. "I can also grab something if needed," she comments to the harpers.

Tolia gauges the Craftsecond's height briefly. "You can help hang paintings, if you like." She gives the man a sunny grin as she takes him up on his offer of help. "Liesana, you and I can set up the backcloth from the stairs while the rest of these guys carry, how 'bout it?" Energy enough to galvanize at least two apprentices, if not several more and a Master to boot; she rubs her hands together in preparation

Kryz carries the 2 paintings he was holding out then returns. He steps in front of Jor, "Thanks for coming," he says with a slight smile, "though I was hoping you would have brought Astrei with you as well," he adds. "But there's no time to get upset over that now is there? Here, just start taking these and bringing them out to the next room," he explains as he reaches over and hands Jor a painting.

"Fair enough," Caramak agrees. Tall-person tasks suit him fairly well, given his height, posture and long arms. He takes a painting cautiously, holding it by the edges with deliberate care. "Just be sure to tell me /where/ I'm supposed to hang which painting."

"Masters hang together, Sr. Appys together...you get the point," Kryz quickly explains before taking out another armfull and rushing back in.

Tolia gestures to the painted apprentice. "That's his department, Sir." She grins, then steps closer to the painter, eyeing his face. "Hey, Kryz," she alerts, "You've got some paint left on your face." Without pausing long enough to see that it is, in fact, supposed to be there, she moves on to the corner to grab a long bolt of light fabric.

Jorsa chuckles as he picks up a painting, "Well, actually, Astrei may show up, but sure, whatever you need." He carefully tucks the painting away and heads out to put them with the last two Kryz took out and returns to help with others, "Guess you can do the same if you want Zella," he says on his way back.

Liesana grins, and hands her quartet of canvasses to the nearest helper, before scuttling over to help Oli with the backcloth. "Is there any particular way that this stuff" Meaning the cloth. "Is supposed to be hung?"

Zella watches the work for several moments before mumbling an "all right" to Jorsa and grabbing several paintings. She follows the others out to the area, depositing them and returning with wide eyes. "How'd you have time to do all of these...?"

Caramak smiles at the instructions. "That, I suppose, /ought/ to be simple enough for even me," he replies, taking his painting -- only one at a time, at least in his first load -- to go hang on the wall.

Fennara hefts two paintings and wanders towards Kryz in an effort to make sure she puts things in the right places..."Where do you want 'em?" Slim dancer's figure looks awkward with the two canvases but hides her her considerable strength. "Artistically Lies! although don't ask me to do it....I can dance...but my interior decoration skills are severely lacking!"

"Yeah. From the top down," Oli teases Liesana, loading her cousin up with a wide bolt. "There are a couple of ladders out there, and I got Edgar to put the hooks in for me yesterday," she grins; a young woman can get Edgar the drudge to do almost anything with just a pretty smile.

Tolia
A sturdily built, slender young woman at a final height of 5'6", her lovely, light-brown eyes and pretty smile begin to reflect a developing inner maturity. Her sun-streaked blonde hair is kept short, its translucent golden ends curling in unexpected ways at the ends where it just stops to tickle her well-proportioned ears (her best feature, some say, for the rest of her face is quite plain). Her freckled skin is lightly tanned, and she moves with an unconscious confidence.
A light green, sleeveless dress drapes elegantly on Oli's fit form, lending her a bit of grace in the simplicity of its line. Along the ankle-length hem and boatneck collar is a darker green pattern in vines, small and intricately embroidered in the deep skybroom green that complements her dark green slippers. Her hair is swept away from her face, her short, light waves held captive in a ribbon of the same deep green, loosed again to just touch her shoulders. Nearly identical golden drums adorn her ears.
A new twist of blue and white adorns Oli's shoulder, captured in a small epaulet sewn for the purpose. What formerly was simple now has extra ornamental loops at ends and top, marking her as a Journeyman Harper.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
Tolia is 20 Turns, 8 months, and 18 days old.

Time. That's soemtihng Kryz wish he had more of, but to answer the question, "Believe me, I've been workign on these for a very very long time now," he says to Zella, thne adds, "I'm sorry, i didn't even ask your name and I'm wokring you to death! I'm Kryz, the crazy artist, I'm sure Jor told you that much"

Jorsa isn't too sure where everything is suppose to be going, but he's sure that can be decided once all the paintings are out in the hall. He grabs a few more and starts to carry them when he hear Kryz's introduction, "Sure I did. Like I remember to mention stuff like that." He grins slightly as takes the next batch out and returns.

"From the top down..." muses Liesana 'thoughtfully', before nodding with a grin. "Yep, I think I can handle that." Introductions from Kryz are heard, and she tilts her head in that direction, chiming in with "And I'm the equally crazy Liesana, the other half of this presentation, although mine doesn't need as much carrying!"

Tolia piles up her arms with fabric, starting through the crowded workroom heedlessly with naught but fair warning. "Coming through! Clear the way!" She can barely peer over the top of her bundles, and balances them wildly as she somehow avoids crashing into the tables and shelves, steering out the door.

Zella shakes her head and chuckles. "Oh, that's all right. I'm used to Jorsa working me to death, so it's not much different." She winks at Jorsa before continuing. "Aye, he has, and I am Zella, starcraft apprentice." She points to her knot and then turns to Liesana with a chuckle. "Well met Liesana..." A few more paintings are grabbed and carried. "I've never met crazy harpers, honestly... I thought all the crazy folk joined the starcraft."

Caramak sidesteps as he comes back into the room for a moment, clearing the way for Tolia's thoroughly proclaimed passage. This time, he collects a larger stack of paintings to move, having successfully moved one without destroying it.

Kryz passes out the rest of the paintings, grabing the last 2 for himself then moves to the ballrooom to begin hanging them

Liesana grins, and follow's Tolia's path, although a little more carefully. Not having Oli's enourmous amount of luck, she errs on the side of caution when moving the backdrops.

Kryz passes out through the open french doors into the main hall.

Main Hall and Ballroom
The echoing space of the formal Ballroom is a mosaic of mosaics. The floor is covered with a precise and colorful ocean, slim pillars of smooth marble reaching up to support the balcony overhead. The low, flat ceiling decorated with bright golden-yellows and reds in a depiction of a partial eclipse of Rukbat. Beyond the cover of the balcony, the space rises in an airy arch far overhead, an ironwork window round over the gracefully curving marble staircase.
An elaborate mural lines the walls, stretching from the mosiac on the floor to the ceiling. One the 'northwall' and 'southwall' are portraits of some of Pern's influential Masterharpers. The 'eastwall' and 'westwall' show aspects of harper life.
Watching from a bit of artistically carved lintel are Dawnwind, Disaster, Chutza, Coriolanus, Brunnis, Brae, Kai, Caius, and Waterjem.
You see Muff, Leyte, and Koai here.
Kryz is here.
Obvious exits:
Artist's Workshop Archive Vault Harper Office Harper Classroom Shainman Rehearsal Hall Great Hall Instrument Workshop Curving Stairways

You pass out through the open french doors into the main hall.

You step though the french doors of the Artists' Workroom and into the large Main Hall.
Tolia steps though the french doors of the Artists' Workroom and into the large Main Hall.
Caramak steps though the french doors of the Artists' Workroom and into the large Main Hall.
Fennara steps though the french doors of the Artists' Workroom and into the large Main Hall.
Zella steps though the french doors of the Artists' Workroom and into the large Main Hall.
Jorsa steps though the french doors of the Artists' Workroom and into the large Main Hall.
Jorsa calls to Xellos, who lands on his shoulder with an air of having wanting to do that in the first place.
Xellos steps though the french doors of the Artists' Workroom and into the large Main Hall.

Tolia drops the majority of her load into a soft, rolling pile on the floor, keeping one as she pulls a ladder into place against the wall beneath the balcony. "Hold this steady, will someone?" she requests, starting precariously up the rungs, half-overbalanced by the bolt of cloth.

Fennara darts towards the precariously wobbling ladder and nods to tolia. "I've got it..." she holds on firmly to steady the other woman.

Liesana starts towards the other ladder, after making sure that the situation is under control, for the moment anyways. "Can I have another volunteer over here?" she calls merrily, staring up the rungs after swirling her skirt about her legs. No need to scare anyone below her, right? The aforementioned hooks are spotted, and she begins to attach the fabric, humming quietly to herself as she works. The nerves are temporarily in abeyance.

Teraille walks down the curving staircase from the balcony hallway.

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 smooth dress of blue linen caresses Teraille's form with only the briefest touches as it falls from shoulder to floor. Snug across the shoulders and through the high neckline, its confining hold on her upper arms bells from her elbows into looser sleeves; the fabric never falls low enough to interfere with her motions. Falling loosely across her breasts, the fabric is gathered into a high waistline before cascading in a liquid fall to trail on the floor. Beneath the belled sleeves, the harper wears a long pair of white gloves, covering whatever flesh might be visible beneath. Her feet, when they appear, are hidden by soft blue slippers. Perched on Teraille's shoulder is Pridal.
The blue and white on the harpercraft entwine on her shoulder, a dance of music and love which, in its loops and tassle, proclaim her a Master of the craft.
She is awake and looks alert.
Teraille is 41 Turns, 10 months, and 8 days old.

"Thanks," Oli grunts as she strains the fabric into place, the ends of the rod captured in small, shaped hooks. "Phew." With a tug, she starts the light curtain descending to cover over the business of the murals. "Uh, oh. Lies, did you bring the glowbaskets?" Just a minor detail, folks. Don't panic.

Kryz carefully points out where each painting goes as he begins to hang them up himself as well. In a panicy rush he hangs as many paintings as possible without killing himself somehow.

Jorsa stands around and watches, hands in his pockets as he whistles slightly to himself, "Nice...." Far be it he does any actual work now that he has completed the first, simplier task. A loud chirup from his shoulder snaps him back to the task at hand however, and picks up one of the unhang paintings and looks up, "Alright, which goes where now?"

Zella follows the others into the room, again finding a place against a wall until called upon for help. She grabs some paintings, seeing how rushed Kryz is, and finds a place on the wall. "Tell me if I am putting these in the wrong order."

The humming silences abruptly as Tolia's words sink in. "Glowbaskets?" Liesana mutters hesitantly. Then. "Glowbaskets." Then a look of near panic. "Oh sweet Faranth, the /glowbaskets/!!" She calls over at Tolia "Ahhh, actually, they're still in the storage room..."

Teraille moves downstairs quietly, pausing for a moment a few steps up to contemplate the group assembling the hall. Her hand trails along the railing as she resumes her motion, removing herself from the path of resistance and standing a few steps to the side, quietly considering the room and the hectic energy of its occupants.

Tolia descends the ladder with a grateful smile to Fennara and breathes a sigh of relief. "Good. You know where they are? I'll wager Edgar's around here somewhere if you need help. He's got a crush on you, y'know." The journeywoman lifts her eyebrows to her cousin as she grabs another roll of cloth, pulling her ladder over a few feet.

Caramak reaches up to hang his armload of paintings; height does have its advantages, and he is not unaccustomed to using his. His movements are careful, deliberate, leaving the paintings he hangs even and well aligned. As he turns away, he sees his wife on the stairs and approaches her. "Afternoon. I seem to have arrived for the end of the preparations, so I was carrying for a time. Are you here for the presentation or...?" He lets the question trail away...the possible conclusions are myriad and she can pick the most appropriate one more easily than he.

Liesana snorts, in a most un-ladylike fashion, commenting that "Edgar has a crush on everything that moves and is female!" She then finishes her own section of the hangings, and descends the ladder, offering a curtsey to Teraille as she reaches ground. Looks like she's getting the hang of the movement.

"Or?" Teraille echoes, a faint hint of amusement in her tone. "Yes, for the presentation." Her eyes shift to Liesana in time to catch the senior apprentice's curtsey, and she offers a smile to the harried young woman. "Liesana and I have been interacting a fair amount recently, and I wanted to be here to see this." Her voice is still pitched for Caramak's ears; best not to distract the presenters.

Fennara lets go of the foot of the ladder and steps back, chuckling. "I have yet to meet this Edgar..." she is completely at home in her gown, loving its silky feel and not having the chance often to wear it. "so Kryz, Lies...when does this little shindig start proper then?"

Jorsa shrugs and starts to find open hanging spots for the few paintings left, hoping they're in the right spots. He steps back to look and recieves and encouraging chirp from the bronze on his shoulder, "And what do you know about art placement, Xel?" Xel merely croons slightly, eliciting a humph from his humanpet, "Secret this secret that... Anyways," he turns around to see how others doing, "Is everything set up?" Does he have to do more work?

Zella smiles politely at the entrance of another, but her main interest seems focused on placing these paintings without dropping them. She hooks a few on the wall, and then she steps back, hand on her chin, and nods. "If that's in the right place, then it's ready to go." She shrugs at Jorsa's question, glancing around at the other harpers and awaiting more instructions.

Caramak waves a hand in an airy circle at Teraille's echo. It drops again as he replies. "Ah. I went through some interviews with her...took us a few to get through it all, as longwinded as I get sometimes." A grin appears, self-deprecating: "Especially when I'm given carte blanche to blather on about my own life."

Tolia, at the top of the ladder again, tugs the last roll of fabric down, shading the wall in strips of off-white. "You haven't met Edgar?" Incredulously, she descends to the floor and grins to Fennara with a nearly mischievous energy. "Oh, he's just a *dear*," she effuses. "I'll have to introduce you."

Liesana glances around the room from atop the ladder once more. "This is really starting to come together." she beams with relief. Her attention refocuses on her hanging, only to be interrupted when some gently raps on the ladder, getting her attention. Edgar is given a nod. "Perfect... can you take them over to Tolia? She'll show you where they go." Perhaps Fennara will get her chance sooner than is thought. Poor girl.

Teraille laughs at that, the sound light and (appropriately) musicaly. "Oh, of course," she says. "And we all know how unbearably eager you were to talk about it when /I/ started asking you."

The hunched drudge is younger than first glance might indicate; his dark hair gleams with an oily sheen, inexpertly cut and combed, if it's been groomed at all. Edgar reveals a few crooked, yellowing teeth in what might be construed, if one wanted to travel down such a path, as a flirtatious smile, and turns away from the lovely Liesana only unwillingly. However, he spots Fennara and Tolia soon enough and, charmingly, offers the glowbaskets. "Can I put t' lights up fer ya?" His gaze travels appreciatively up and down Fennara's form.

Kryz looks around as the last of the paintings are hung. He nods slightly as he glances from wall to wall at the hanging arangment. "That should about do it," he says then drifts off as he glances down at his paint splattered clothes. "Oh my gosh, i have to change!" he exclaims before running to the workshop and coming back out moments later carrying some clothes and dashes off towards the dorms to change. He returns a few minutes later fluffing his hair slightly form his eyes.

Kryz
You see a clean-shaven, well built young man in front of you. He has a mature look for his age, though if youd know him, hes anything but that. The childish grin that often appears on his face show his true personality. His turquoise hair is roughly cut just long enough to hang is his eyes and sticks out in all directions, with the exception of one braid behind his right ear that hangs quite a few feet longer. Colorful beads have been woven into the braid with a thin piece of twine tying the end. His skin is the palest shade possible, without being unhealthy. White paint, outlined with a thin line of black, decorate his face and arms in careful patterns.
He is wearing a white sleeveless shirt, and black shorts with a fancy design stitched into the bottom and up the sides of his legs. Freshly polished black leather boots cover most of his legs, just past his knees. These, along with the matching gloves are tied on tight with black lacing. A black bandana is tied tightly around his forhead, which also has a similar patterns to that on the shorts. The paint that normally covers a portion of his face and arms has been neatly repainted over in black, making it stand out more so then normal. His right ear is decorated from top to bottom with countless numbers of golden earings. The left only supports two small hoops at the top and bottom. Only someone who really knows Kryz could tell that, in his opinion, hes dressed in his best.
Kryz wears the knot of a Harper Senior Apprentice.
He is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Belt Knife <sheathed>
Kryz is 20 Turns, 1 month, and 11 days old.

Caramak smiles wryly at that. "Well, it's been rather a few Turns since that and I'm a little bit less ...leery of it. Now, I just think it makes a decent story."

Kryz looks around. "make sure I didn't forget anything, he mutters as he wonders off towards the workshop for one last look around.

Main Hall and Ballroom
The echoing space of the formal Ballroom is a mosaic of mosaics. The floor is covered with a precise and colorful ocean, slim pillars of smooth marble reaching up to support the balcony overhead. The low, flat ceiling decorated with bright golden-yellows and reds in a depiction of a partial eclipse of Rukbat. Beyond the cover of the balcony, the space rises in an airy arch far overhead, an ironwork window round over the gracefully curving marble staircase.
An elaborate mural lines the walls, stretching from the mosiac on the floor to the ceiling. One the 'northwall' and 'southwall' are portraits of some of Pern's influential Masterharpers. The 'eastwall' and 'westwall' show aspects of harper life.
Beneath the overhanging balcony, the walls have been covered in broad, flowing muslin. Glowbaskets hang above, the light directed through glass down in golden ovals to pool illumination on the floor and impromptu gallery. Around the room, each in its own carefully carved frame, hang dozens of portraits. Each one contains an oil on canvas painting of a member of the Harpercraft from the lowest apprentices to the masters of the craft. The paintings are done in much detail from the posture of the subject to the wrinkles in the clothing and the expressions on their faces. ( To view Kryz's portraits, point your browser to http://www.stormpages.com/kryzdracokin/project.html )Resting on a table, centrally placed in the exhibit, is a large book bound in a deep chestnut leather with pages of cream-colored parchment. It lies open, pages draped over one another and neatly-scribed in rich ink. ( To view Liesana's histories, 'contents history'. )
Watching from a bit of artistically carved lintel are Dawnwind, Disaster, Chutza, Coriolanus, Brunnis, Brae, Kai, Caius, Waterjem, and Lu-nar.
You see Muff, Leyte, Koai, and Histories of the Istan Harpercraft ~ Middle Tenth Pass here.
Tolia, Caramak, Fennara, Zella, Jorsa, and Teraille are here.
Obvious exits:
Artist's Workshop Archive Vault Harper Office Harper Classroom Shainman Rehearsal Hall Great Hall Instrument Workshop Curving Stairways

Teraille leans against the wall and crosses her arms, ignoring the way the position crinkles her sleeves. "And you, my love, are one of the few men who doesn't need to embellish to impress the ladies. How ever did I land such a fascinating find as you?" Her tone is faintly teasing, mildly ironic.

Tolia steps back from the walls of the gallery area, not quite backing into the conversing Masters -- though it's a close thing, at that -- and clasps her hands behind her back as she takes in the completed exhibit. "Looks done to me." In a broad, grand-picture sense, anyway. "You folks ready to begin?" She gives a quick and encouraging smile to Kryz as he returns.

Liesana stands in the middle of the ballroom, and turns a slow circle as she regards the changes wrought by many hands. A slight nod hints at internal approval, and she then turns to the gathered people, gesturing at a few chairs off to one side. Edgar is regally ignored. Or something like that. "If you all would care to have a seat, we'll begin." she smiles, taking herself over towards the indicated area, and standing at the front.

Fennara's eyes flicker nervously towards Edgar and smiling politely she edges away from him...Seeing Kryz's return she uses it as an excuse to move far away! "Oh great Kryz is ready." she darts to a seat and sits primly upon it, ready to drink in her friend's presentation.

** Tolia just set the @harperparty! Type @harperparty to check it out! **

Liesana and Kryz are presenting their Journeyman Projects, Now! Come one, come all to the Main Ballroom and peruse Kryz's portraits and Liesana's histories, and enjoy some RP.

-HP- entered by Tolia on 2001-03-12 15:32 MOO Time.

Astrei runs in looking a little hurried and walks up to Jorsa. "You could have woken me up..." she whispers. "Where is...oh i suppose i can;t go talk to Kryz now can I?"

Caramak snorts openly at Teraille's teasing. "By putting up with me," he replies drily. "Or at least, that's all I'll be reciting in my epic-length littany for the moment, since it looks like they're thinking of starting."

Teraille nods to Caramak with a brief grin, then straightens and walks over towards the seats, claiming a position with a good view. Rank hath its privileges, and the Master enjoys them as she smooths her skirt into a more civilized presentation.

Zella grins and waves at Astrei, shaking her head. "I think we're supposed to sit down. They're about to begin, I believe. Maybe you can talk to him afterwards?"

Kryz sees his cousin enter and his entire face lights up. He gives her a little wave then moves to stand next to Lies and whispers some last minute things to her about the presentation before they begin.

Jorsa shakes his head, "Don't think so. Sorry, but Gow said he couldn't wake you. I was busy making sure the ship was properly docked." He grins sheepishly and shrugs, before looking to Zella and nodding, "Right, see, just need to patient. Let's grab a seat."

Kazyndra walks in.

Astrei nods and sits down next to Zella then waving to her cousin so wildly fashion that anyone but Astrei would be embarasded to do in public

Edgar only belatedly takes the hint that he, too, ought to leave Liesana alone; he nearly follows her up to the front before he notices that several onlookers appear to be staring at him. Or maybe it's just his paranoid imagination, but he hunches over to the hold entrance and lurks there, watching from the out-of-the-way shadows.

Caramak takes the seat next to Teraille, naturally. His seated posture isn't quite as good as hers, given that he is not performing, but he refrains from stretching out too far. He leans back and watches the assembling crowd mildly.

Astrei stops sudenly glancing at Jorsa and Zella and looks down and folds her hand into her lap.

Jorsa chuckles and just leans back in the seat, making sure he's comfortable before the presentation starts. The bronze cranes his neck as he looks around the new environment around him before his humanpet gives him a scritch to keep him still.

Liesana continues to smile as the audiance assembles, offering the occasional nod here and there. Astrei gets a full-fledged grin as her waving at Kryz snags Liesana's eye as well. Once it appears that everyone is as seated as they will get, she squares her shoulders, and takes a breath, wincing slightly as she feels part of the lacings pressing into her skin. Ignoring that, she begins to speak. "Good day and thank you to you all for coming. Honoured masters, journeymen and guests, I would like to present to you the Journeyman's Projects of myself, and of Senior Apprentice Kryz." a smile, shedding a little of the formailty of her tone. "So, without further ado, I'll turn the floor over to Kryz, for the first part of this presentation." That said, she offers a slight bow, and sits on a nearby chair, smiling encouragement at her friend.

You notice Tolia gazing upon your form.

Teraille's eyebrows arch, and her attention slides over to Caramak for a moment, a wry smile on her lips. Her eyes return full front quickly, though, focusing on Kryz for his part of the presentation.

Zella shuffles into a seat noest to Jorsa, smiling at Astrei and patting a seat next to her. After that, she just focuses on her attention on Liesana. She grins, glancing toward the artist, eager to see his presentation.

Caramak's eyes shift sideways to Teraille as he senses her attention and blinks back at her for a moment, looking incongruously and unintentionally innocent for a moment.

Astrei figets with her hands in her lap, leaning a bit forward and gripping the edge of the seat, as bad as a 5 year old really. Her eyes are on her cousin

Kryz runs a hand through his hair without thought, a habit hard to break when hes nervous. He glances over the audience as his mind suddenly goes blank. "Um, Im going to explain my project," he says as his eyes dart around the room to the paintings. "As some of you may know, and others may not, I chose to paint individual portraits of the members of the Harper Craft as my Journeyman project." He pauses a monent to calm down and to rethink his words before continuing.

Liesana offers another one of her smiles, this one the quietly reassuring one that her friends see often, and strangers very rarely. A piece of hide is clasped in one hand, and she idly fingers it, not minding much if the ink is blurred. She's already got the notes on the hide engraved into her brain. Then she still herself to focus on listening.

With a deep silent breath he goes on. "Each canvas measures 24 by 36 and were stretched by myself with help from a few other apprentices, those who helped Id like to thank." a smile is shot to Zyn. "I used oil paints and held individual sessions with each of the subjects as I painted them." Another pause as he tries to read any of the faces in the audience.

Teraille keeps her attention on Kryz, courteous but a bit bland in its polite consideration. Her fingers lace together, their gloved snow a contrast against the blue linen of the abdomen on which they rest.

Fennara's gaze is rapturous, filled with pride as she is of her two friends. Her eyes slowly take in each of the paintings on show and also focus on the great book that Liesana has laid out, a sparkle betraying her interest in reading what lies within. she grins a little at Kryz, remembering sitting for him while he commited her likeness to canvas.

Caramak, to a basic face-reading, is attentive. His interest is keen on the presenter, visible in the slight arch to his eyebrows and the gleam of his eyes. His posture cannot be said to be quite so focused, but it appears to be a mere issue of comfort.

Kryz says, "To show an example of how my project was done, Im going to use Tolias portrait as a demonstration. " Kryz points out the hanging of his mentor. "I tired to capture the likeness in the face, clothing and postures so that Harpers we can be remembered the way we were to the Harpers of the future." Kryz grimaces a little. Man, that sounded cheesy. He looks over at Lies, and adds, "As you may know Liesanas project ties in with mine as well, so Im going to turn the floor over to her for a minute to explain the rest of the decorations.""

Kryz steps aside and takes a seat letting Lies explain her project.

Tolia leans back in her seat, crossing her legs as she listens to Kryz run through his spiel. So far, so good; she offers an encouraging smile, should he happen to look in her direction. Color reddens her features just a touch at mention of her own portrait, and her grin broadens ruefully as she realizes she's probably about to be embarrassed by her own cousin... them's the breaks.

Liesana grins slightly as she passes Kryz on the way to the front, a private grin for his eyes only. This is supposed to be /terribly/ formal after all. A slight clearing of her throat, and she steps over to her book, flipping th pages a moment, before turning the book to face the audiance. A miniature version of Tolia's portrait can be seen adorning the page. Obviously this is the story of Oli. A deep breath, moderated by another jab from her clothing. Should've tried the dress on beforehand... Ahem. Back to business. "Thank you, Kryz. As many of you know, my project involved the creation of a book, one containing the histories of the current members of the Istan Hall. For an example of how I did this, I'll pick on my dear cousin and mentor Tolia, since Kryz has given me such a nice opening." A slightly-mischevious twinkle is sent in the aforementioned lady's direction.

Caramak's eyes flicker from Liesana over to Tolia at the second use of the unfortunate Journeyman, a faint look of amusement badly hidden by a hand he raises to help prop his chin. A moment later, they return to the presenter, however.

Astrei waches Liesana attentively with an ocational glance at Kryz or Tolia, of whom bothe have now spoken

Liesana takes another breath, this time remembering that the gala dress doesnt quite fit, and so the audiance is spared another wince. "The standard format I used was an informal interview, where I asked a series of questions of the person, in this case Tolia. I found this a fairly easy stage of the project, as most people enjoy being given the opportunity to talk about themselves!" Another twinkle. "After the interview, I would take my transcripts, and rewrite them to form a proper history, without losing the sense of immediacy that a first-person interview gives..." And she pauses, before launching into the final stage of her section of the talk.

Teraille's head dips ever so slightly at each piece of information, acknowledging its receipt without words. Her eyes linger on Liesana with quiet interest, though not quite the same avid gleam that some have.