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Harper's Tale  - Tuesday, October 02, 2001, 8:27 AM
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Gathering Hall
The room seems to loom as you enter, though the warmth within easily overcomes that feeling. It's huge, easily taking up a good third of the hall, and offering room for most people to sit and chat. The heat of the great hearth on the far wall spreads throughout, the merry crackling adding a peaceful undertone to the usually occupied room, heard even above the murmer of voices. Tables are all but littered about, pulled into and out of place by friends at a regular basis. Several more permanent tables and benches are settled along the far edge, an ever-full klah pot and several trays of various and sundry snacks almost always set out for the hungry and bored. The walls are decorated, tapestries denoting every part of Pern society strung about. Along the wall above the kitchen, in particular, is the pride and joy of the weavers: a string of dragons flying Threadfall. The vibrant flames and metallic hues of the dragons seem to glow as the flickering firelight strikes them. Above everything runs a long overhang, people passing to and fro, passing overhead of the figures and gatherings below. A handful of glowbaskets light the upper ends, the rest of the mainroom light brightly with candles and decorative lighting.
Various scents assult your nose as you walk in here. The rich smell of foods from the kitchen. The fire's smoke and heat. The sweet odors of various pipeweeds from the gossipers surrounding the hearthside table. The aromatic baskets do little here, except add their own faint undertones.
Clinging to a high beam are Fawnix, Skittles, Topaz, Phanto, Feisty, Arboric, and Parsiron.
You see Bonehead here.
Obvious exits:
Kitchen, Smith Infirmary, Courtyard, Grand Staircase, Lower Level

From the balcony above, Dennia walks in from the West Wing.
From the balcony above, Dennia walks to the Grand Staircase.
Dennia walks in from the Balcony Landing.

Dennia skips down the stairs empty handed but with a large smile carried on her face.  "Mooooorning!" she sing songs at Liesana.

Liesana is curled up in a chair, wrapped around a klah mug, and staring idly off into space. Daydreaming. Or just plain 'dreaming'. It /is/ early, after all. But she's certainly alert enough to give Dennia a grin. "Hey, G'morn to you too..."

Dennia giggles, having heard rumors and observed harpers before, mostly at the weyr. "Are you up early or late?" she asks as she checks the freshness of the klah, her first morning chore, and decides it can sit for a bit longer.

Liesana gives another grin, and takes a sip from her mug. "A little of both, actually. Was up late last night, then went to bed, but I normally wake up now anyways, so couldn't convince myself to sleep longer." More klah vanishes. "Just slowly working up the willpower to take my morning ride."

Dennia oh's, taking up the pots as she changes her mind and thinks the klah is too funky smelling to let it get older. "I didn't know you had a runnerbeast here," she looks impressed. "Where do you ride?"

Liesana chuckles. "Oh, where I go, my runnerbeast goes too. One reason I was delivering the messages on the day I first arrived here. I've had Storm since I was 13, and she was 4." A point very much in her favour when it came time to convince the Masters to let her keep her, during her appy days. "But as for riding...? We used to head from the Hold up to around Smith, and back again, so now we do the reverse. She's from distance-race stock, eh?"

Dennia oh's, resting pots on the table near her and smiling at Liesana. "So I might see you when I'm at the hold?" she asks, tone suggesting there might be more behind her question than just a chance to see the harper more frequently.

Liesana nods. "Most likely" she replies, detecting the tone, but unsure as to just what it entails. A head tilt, and a slightly curious look is turned on Dennia.

Dennia aaaaah's thoughtfully and sits in a chair near the pots. "Do you think Storm might carry two?"

Dennia
Set against her fair complexion, zetetic dark brown eyes look out at the world from beneath dark black lashes that match the long, thick, wavy hair falling down her back to her waist, accentuating the roundness at her hips and her slim waist. Dennia's long legs support her short stature and give her an air of grace as she walks. Her small hands seem strong and capable, though not too worn from harsh work.
Made from simple white cotton, Dennia's peasant blouse has been embellished with blue threads in an intricate geometric design at the gathered neck and the hem of the elbow length sleeves. It is tucked into the waistband of a simple flaxen skirt of pale brown that falls from her small waist over her hips and in soft folds to the toes of her short leather lace-up boots. As usual, her hair is pulled back at the nape of her neck with a simple strip of pale blue ribbon. Dennia seems to be wearing a ring. This ring is no ordinary ring, as it appears at first glance. It is a ring that is made up of two firelizards, one queen, a gold, and the other a silver firelizard. The two are holding each other with talon and tail. The eyes of the firelizards are made out of brilliant rubies for the queen, and sparkling blue diamonds for the silver.
She is awake and looks alert.
Dennia is 27 Turns, 4 months, and 10 days old.

Liesana eyes Dennia appraisingly, considering. "She might, at that... One would have to take a slower pace than I usually set, but she's fit enough..." A brief thought is quickly abandoned. No, Dennia would probably /not/ fit on Niara's pony.

Dennia looks pleased enough and stands. "I wouldn't dare ask anyone to interrupt flying on runnerback through the wilds," she beams, turns and heads with her pots to the kitchen only to return moments later with fresh klah.

Liesana twinkles. "You'd not be the first person I've ferried." 'Nor the first person ferried on the quiet, if needs be. "But is that fresh klah...?" she perks.

Dennia mm hmm's as she nods to the harper. "Do you need a refill?" she asks perkily, almost too awake for most people up at this hour. "There's rolls coming from the oven as we speak," she offers as she approaches with one of the klah pots.

Liesana nods, and pokes out her mug. "Aye, that would be most appreciated... And rolls too? Good Faranth, I may have to delay my rides more often." she grins.

Dennia laughs as she pours carefully. "What do they feed you over at that hall of yours?" she asks, raising the pot carefully so not a drop falls from the lip. "But then you don't swing hammers all day, do you?" she teases and heads back to the sideboard to pour herself a mug, too.

Liesana chuckles. "Well, being right in the Hold proper, we theoretically only have to wander over to the dining hall... But the Mug is a much more social place, and you know Harpers and being social. So my diet's mostly been meatrolls, although they /do/ feed you well at Craft dinners..."

Dennia tsks and sits for a moment. "If we fed the smiths meatrolls all the time they'd be skin and bone, poor things. You'll eat well here," she smiles and stands again, mug untouched. "Let me check on those rolls for you," she says, already pushing on the kitchen door with her backside. "YOu do like soft cheese, don't you?" she asks but disappears before she gets an answer.

From the balcony above, Sean walks in from the West Wing.
Sean walks in from the Balcony Landing.
Sean walks to the Lower Level.
Sean walks in from the Class Room.
Jellem walks with a somber look in from the Courtyard.
Sean walks to the Lower Level.
Sean walks in from the Class Room.
Sean walks to the Courtyard.

Dennia returns with a platter of hot rolls and cheeses. "Didn't know what you might like," she tells Liesana as the platter is placed near her. "So we found a choice of cheeses."

Jellem walks into the Gathering Hall and glances around, his guitar in his left hand as he takes a seat at one of the tables

Liesana's eyes light up. "Ooooh, this looks wonderful..." she sighs, surveying the platter of goodies.

Sean walks in from the Courtyard.
Sean walks to the Courtyard.

Dennia oh's as more people wake up. Time to scurry. She pokes her head into the kitchen to deliver words or encouragment and to demand more klah be sent out. "Good Morning!" she greets Jellem and Sean.

Jellem murmurs, "morning.." before he yawns, covering his mouth with his hand

Dennia tsks "None of that!" she smiles at Jellem, delivering him a mug of klah to help him wake up.

Liesana happily regards the hot rolls and fresh cheeses on her plate. Aye, much better than meatrolls. Tearing apart one, a small could of steam rises, before she sets about munching. "G'morning, Jellem," she waves, raising her own klah mug.

Jellem takes a sip of the klah and winces, "ugh.." he murmurs as he puts the mug down on the table and rubs his eyes

Dennia laughs "That's not a very sociable harper," she teases Jellem, starting to direct drudges as they bring in platters for the sideboard.

"I think that's generally known as a /tired/ Harper." smiles Liesana, blissful with her rolls and cheeses. Hey, it's early, it doesn't take much to amuse her.

Dennia remembers her own mug and stops to take a rathe large gulp. "I think I'm the lucky one, not smart enogh to join a craft!"

Jellem leans against his arm as a prop on the table, "I think the correct term is exhausted.." he murmurs again

Liesana places one of her rolls, and a part of her cheese, on another plate, and skids it down the table towards Jellem. She may be posted to Smith, but the petite Harper is never going to match them in appetite, and knows far better than to attempt trying. "Eat?"

Liesana
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. The young woman before you is petite, despite a medium stature of 16.2 hands, slim figure carrying not a trace of extra flesh. 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. Neither is work a 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 half-heartedly.
Peasant-styled shirt of eye-catching white flutters loosely about her form, fitting closely only at the cuffs, 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. Perched comfortably on Liesana's head is Lu-nar, who peers back at you. Tail wrapped loosely around the neck of her perch-of-choice, Angelique perches on Liesana's right shoulder.
Rich Harper blue twines with the red of Smith in a double cord knot of single loop and long tail. Fastened prominently to it is a roundel badge bearing a blue harp. Combined, all this finery heralds a Journeyman of the Harpercraft, posted to Smith Hall no less!
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Lu-nar Chestnut-Wood Gitar
Brown Leather Carrysack Angelique
You notice Liesana gazing upon your form.
Liesana is 22 Turns, 11 months, and 26 days old.

Dennia shakes her head at Liesana "That's no substitute for a good night's sleep, you know."

Jellem murmurs, "Sleep? what's that?" as he looks at the two with half closed eyes

Dennia just shakes her head and goes for food for herself.

Liesana shrugs at Dennia, and continues eating her breakfast. "True, but it's a little late to get one now, no?" Her intense focus on her food is lessening somewhat, as her stomach assures it's self that it /is/ being fed, and she reaches into her carrysack, pulling out a few unread letters to peruse over her meal.

Dennia sits next to Liesana, placing her plate on the table in front of her, meerly a few slices of cold meat and a roll. "Will you be starting the Harper Lessons soon?" she asks Liesana.

Jellem takes another sip of the klah and puts the mug back down, pushing the plate away from him as he watches the other two

Liesana nods, and stops skimming her letters to reply, after taking another sip of klah. "Aye, that I will. Mornings, I think, for the kiddies, unless there are things already scheduled. And when it comes to singing and making music, older folks are most certainly welcome as well!"

Jellem goes home.

Dennia laughs "Ever hear smiths sing? Most carry a tune as well as they bake bread.

Liesana waggles an eyebrow, with a twinkling expression. "Ah now, everyone can be /taught/ to sing... Some just take a little more teaching, is all."

Dennia giggles as she pulls at her roll. "Maybe it's all the time we've not had a true harper in the hall," she nods as if agreeing with herself.

Liesana chuckles. "Either that, or you've not had a stubborn one..." she jokes, drinking some more klah. "Although I admit that I'm no choirmaster, I should be able to teach you to carry a tune. With or without a basket."

Dennia leans forward, food forgotten and asks, "Could you really? So they don't sound like a bunch of bellows out of tune?"

Liesana drums her fingers together. "Well, it would take a /lot/ of work... But if they wanted to, I could teach them. Of course, having them want to learn is the big hurdle."

Dennia laughs and giggles softly as she sits up straighter. "Well, you have to convince them they want it and let them think it was all their own idea."

Liesana twinkles again. "My dear Dennia, that's something we Harpers excel at... At least according to our image." More of the klah disappears, Liesana finishing the mug, but quite happy with her caffeine level for the moment.

Dennia giggles and smirks smugly "One doesn't have to be a harper to have the skill," all her attention on her mug.

Liesana chuckles. "No... one just has to be female, right?" Early morning Girl Power. Yeah. Speaking of early morning and girls, a certain green firelizard chooses this moment to awaken, cutting of any furthur comments with a loud squawk. Morning, didja miss me?

Dennia oh's! and then laughs once over the start the fire lizard gave her. "Yours?"

Snip shuffles like a weary old drudge in from the Courtyard.

Liesana wrinkles her nose, and stuffs a chunk of cheese down the suddenly-gaping green maw that's appeared by her left ear. "Yes, unfortunately. Angelique, /do/ shut up!" The 'lizard obeys, although it's more due to the fact that she has a full mouth. A curious glance at the newcomer. Is it who she thinks it is? And if it is, why is he here?

The 'old woman' shuffles into the Great Hall, giving a slight nod to the women as she passes. Pausing a few feet away, the spy in disguise reaches into a pocket to make sure what 'she' brought is still present, then pretends to be busy cleaning the room, tidying a bit.

Dennia pays the old woman no mind, assuming we've taken in another mouth to feed, and is too busy gathering information and food. "Do you like having a green?" she asks Liesana, wondering if some of the tales she's heard are true.

Snip
Slouched forward, making her height under 5 feet tall, the old woman is a weathered old drudge. Her clothes hang on her thin frame as they would hang on a clothesline, losing her within their folds. The hood of her cloak is pulled over her head, shrouding her face in shadow. He walks slowly, as if arthritis had plagued her for quite some time, and her hands are hidden beneath thin gloves, no doubt concealing the papery, liverspotted wrinkled skin and crooked knuckles.
The old woman is wearing a drudge's dress. A cloak made of dark cobalt blue covers her shoulders, the hood pulled up over her head to conceal her face. The dress reaches the ground, where it brushes weatherbeaten old shoes, covered in holes and dirt. An apron, smeared with various types of stains wraps around her thin waist and trails down to just a few inches above her hemline.
Snip wears the knot of a Harper Apprentice.
In Disguise!
He is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Weathered Satchel
Snip is 20 Turns, 2 months, and 14 days old.

Liesana follows suit. Drudges are ubiquitous, and at the moment she has no fresh gossip to share. A nod at Dennia. "I do, at that. Although it can get a bit irritating when she's proddy. Nothing a little self-control can't deal with, but still irritating. Eggs are worth it, though, if I can find where she drops them in time."

The old woman shuffles around, dropping a basket on the ground. "Oh dear..." she croaks in an old creaky voice. "How clumsy of me..." pointing a shaky gloved hand toward the basket, then at Liesana, she asks "Can ye pick that up for'me, dearie?" the voice is surprisingly convincing. Snip is a master snoop.

Dennia jumps up and gets between the drudge and Harper. "How dare you?" she chides the old woman. We don't ask crafters for help. I never put you on laundry duty!" she huffs. "Who /are/ you?"

Liesana blinks at the drudge, the old woman suddenly intruding onto her consciousness. And then another blink at Dennia. "Oh... it's quite all right, Dennia, no worries. I dare say my bones are a lot less stiff than this one's." Therefore she stoops over to collect the package, although really she's attempting to catch a glimpse of whatever lurks under all that drudge's clothing. Curiosity. It's not often that one actually takes a good look at a drudge.
s/package/basket/

Dennia stammers 'but, but, but..' not one to tell a harper her busines.

The old drudge gives a stiff bow toward Dennia. "My appologies my dear..." and one gloved hand has deftly slipped into the folds of her cloak and is now pressing an emerald necklace into Liesana's hand as she bends to help her. Then, as the hustle and bustle continues, the old woman collects her basket and disappears into the nearest exit.

Liesana slips the necklace into her vest, under cover of straightening up, invisible, but for one brief flash of gold. And one would have to be paying attention to catch that. "No worries, Auntie. Always willing to help." And then a smile at Dennia, and she resumes her seat. "So, where were we? Greens?"

Dennia just stands watching, hands on her hips and a disgusted look on her face. "I shall have to have a talk with the Headwoman about this!" she huffs out and flops back into her seat. "What gall!"

Snip watches from a dark corner, crouched behind some boxes, more or less still watching to see if Liesana will give him away.

Dennia sips a few times from her mug, mutters to her klah and then smiles a bit too politely at Liesana. "Oh yes - Greens. Is it true what they say about when tehy go proddy?"

Liesana chuckles, feeling the pendant pressing against her ribs. "Ah now, don't concern yourself too much, Dennia. I really don't think rank should dictate common courtesy, for me at least. I mean, I was far younger then that poor woman, all hunched over with joint ache. It's only human kindness to help out. Although," An odd smile. "Somehow, I don't think you'll have to worry about her doing that again." Could be because of Denn's pouncing, could be for some other reason. "Yes, Greens. They are nowhere near as bad as their bigger cousins. Just an annoyance that can easily be dealt with." A wicked grin. "Or not, as the case may be."

Dennia sighs as she tries to forget the drudge and Liesana keeps harping on her. "I was hoping a green might add some. uh.... " she tries to find the right words. "More fun, yes. Fun to life," she giggles.

Liesana allows Dennia to change the subject. The harping is a very effective way of getting that to happen. And then she gives a grin. "Oh, it can... if you let it. Golds rise less often, but I've heard it's more intense..." She says nothing more, just sipping delicately at her refilled mug of klah.

Dennia mm's as she half listens, her mind still not at ease. "I don't suppose you noticed Headwoman Arakiel come down, did you?" she asks, "I just have this feeling..." she trails off then shakes her head. "Silly me," she giggles a bit at Liesana. "That old auntie really made me uneasy for some reason.

Liesana shrugs. "Could just be that she was unexpected." she offers. "I mean, drudges usually just blend into the scenery, or come when you call them. Not often that one approaches you on their own accord." She's still covering for Snip, perhaps not overly-adroit, but so far not mentioning anything. Although she'll be very happy when she can get the necklace safely out of her vest.

Snip snorts. Did he really make that bad of an old woman? He'll have to go through his costumes again. He frowns a bit at Liesana's manner, hoping Dennia isn't too sharp that she would pick up on the subtle clues that scream to the young Harper. He sheds his cloak and dress, stuffing them into his satchel, wearing the clothes of a Smith Apprentice, pulling on boots with a heel that raise his height by at least 4-5 inches, the bulk of the thick sole hidden beneath overly long trousers.

Dennia slaps her hand on the table lightly "I'll just have to talk to Arakiel.. no woman that old should be working that hard. I have no idea what she was thinking at /all/. Next thing we know she'll have the poor woman pinned to the kitchen door for not moving fast enough." Mind settled now, Dennia turns back to her food. "Did I ever ask you where you are from?" she asks Liesana, back to information gathering.

Liesana chuckles, and takes the new tack of the conversation and runs with it. Let's talk about /her/, not mysterious old women. "Actually, no, you didn't. I was born in Keroon, and raised practically all over Pern. My parents were trained Herders, but did a lot of runner trading, delivering orders, bringing home shipments of breeding stock, and stuff like that. Family tradition."

Dennia oooOO's, impressed. She grew up in a cothold, living there most of her life, after all. "And they took you with them?" the mind boggles. "With thread falling and all?"

Snip bounds from the Smith Hall. Where he got a Smith Apprentice knot you'll never get out of him. Perhaps he keeps a stock of them in his supply. He stops long enough to give Liesana a devilish smirk from behind Dennia, then moves to busy himself. Perhaps he's trying to show Liesana that he truly can slot in anywhere and get away with just about everything. "Keroon is a lovely place, roit?" his high voice carries a thick northern accent, "'Erders turned to 'Arpers eh? Wot next?" and with a spritely giggle he darts toward an interesting looking spot on the ground.

Dennia purses her lips at the apprentice, to have him act so in front of a harper. Sheesh. "Sorry about him," she tells Liesana, shaking her head. "There must be too much sweetener in the food."

Snip pauses, blinking. err. .right.He straightens his shoulders, and for a moment flails his arms as if near falling over from his shoes. Snip is just a little guy. He decides to take a strategic perch on a nearby bench, and decides to have a snack.

Liesana wrinkles her nose. "Or something. Although a lot of the apprentices at Harper are no different." This is said mildly and meaninglessly enough to Dennia, although Snip may take it as he lists.

Dennia ah's and looks lost in thought, too easily distracted and finding it hard to remember where they were, "Did you see much of the other holds? Are they very different?" she asks.

Liesana shrugs. "Well, they're similar in that every Hold has the good the bad and the ugly... A few of the more remote and inbred cotholds /really/ get the ugly." she jokes. "But each Hold also has a very unique flavour to it... Bitra is a /lot/ of fun, if you don't mind shady characters, and keep a close hold on your marks pouch." But, she's finished her breakfast, and regretfully, time marches onwards. And, she wants to get that pendant some place safer than her vest... "I've unfortunately got paperwork to attend to, or I'd stay and chat longer. But come drop by the Workshop some time... I'll need your help in convincing the Smiths to sing!" As she turns away, she returns Snip's smirk, although she mouths a 'thanks' in his direction.

Snip salutes Liesana from behind Dennia's back and stuffs a meatroll in his mouth. Hey, Harpers have to eat too!

Liesana chuckles. "No matter... a talk's as good as a ride any day." And with that, the lady vanishes. Or more correctly, strolls down the stairs, heading for her domain in the basement.