Teraille's Exam

Shinnai (#1357)
A slender woman of medium height and skin the color of tanned cherry wood. Her features, while not really pretty, are distinct - high cheekbones, a straight nose between deepset almond-shaped eyes of an aqua so deep as to appear nearly black. Her face is shadowed by escaping wisps of dark brown hair, its length wound into a woven bun at the nape of her neck. Her figure is draped in light but voluminous robes, typical of those who dwell in the Igen deserts. Off-white cotton makes up the inner layer, covered with a robe of indigo and sashed, in the only ornamentation, with a broad, embroidered silk cloth of harper blue. Across her back is slung a gitar case, well-cared-for and yet well-beaten-up, in its time.
A neatly-fashioned knot of harper blue and white is accented with a strand of orange, a Harper Master's knot next to a badge of Blacksands.
Shinnai is 35 Turns, 1 month, and 24 days old.

You head towards the Harper Office.
Harper Office (#2732)
The office is cheerful, the light reflecting off of whitewashed walls and
ceiling. A pattern mimicking musical notation in colors runs along the tops
of the walls, shelf upon shelf rising from the floor to meet it. Desks,
cabinets and filing drawers are arranged about the room, workplaces for
those whose job it is to keep the harpers and hall in order.
The air is fresh, tangy with sea and hides and well-seasoned woods.
A decorative object has been placed in the center of the room, right in the
way. Perhaps you should ask its owner to move it.
The window looks out over Main Beach.
Through the open window, you notice that It is a winter afternoon.
Watching from a high shelf are Mordred and Milo.
You see Staff Tackboard, Lesson Schedule, Tas, Useful Facts for Harpers,
Paybox, and Opree here.
Caramak is here.
Obvious exits:
Ballroom

Shinnai smiles to Caramak.
Caramak settles himself at a desk and smiles back at Shinnai. "There...Think
we're just about all here...Do we think we're ready for her?"
The door creaks slightly as Jeranium, a journeyman of epoch proportions
(*grin*), shuffles in. He seems tired, and slumps into a chair with a brief
nod to the two masters.
Caramak glances up at Mordred. The flit glares back. Mak frowns at him.
Mordred glowers. Mak narrows his eyes. Mordred decides that Mak is bigger
than him, and obliges the humanpet.
Mordred suddenly flicks into ::between:: with as little warning as possible,
hoping to startle someone.
Jeranium is, apparently, startled by the firelizard's abrupt disappearance,
and blinks, then glowers. "Harrumph. She's late."
Caramak stiffles a laugh. "Jeranium, she's been waiting. I just send
Mordred to go fetch her."
Teraille walks calmly and with purpose in from the ballroom.
Teraille steps just within the door, stopping just within.
Shinnai smiles placatingly to Jeranium, who seems unimpressed. The lump-like
journeyman stares at Teraille almost accusingly as she arrives, but says
nothing.
Teraille nods slightly to Jeranium as she feels his gaze, then surveys the
rest of the room, offering nods and smiles to everyone within.
Shinnai warmly returns the apprentice's smile, welcoming her to the room.
"Ready?" is her encouraging question.
Teraille nods. "I am," she says calmly, remembering deep breaths.
Caramak smiles and nods to Teraille. "Ah...Good. Mordred didn't get side
tracked along the way...I'm amazed, honestly." He shakes head. "In any
case. Let's start out with the formality: Please state your name, rank,
place of birth, specialty," he pauses to take a breath, "voice level, main
instrument and, uh...name of journeyman project." He glances in Jeranium's
direction to see if he missed any; that worthy would /surely/ love to
correct Mak on any he might have missed. Another Journeyman, apparently an
import from Fort, takes up a pen to record the responses.
Jeranium raises one fleshy eyebrow and adds, "And your age, please."
Teraille nods. "Teraille. Senior Apprentice. Born in Nabol." She pauses
slightly. "As of yet, no specific specialty. Voice level soprano, main
instrument gitar, journeyman project Open Concert." A glance at Jeranium.
"Age 26."
Jeranium nods, as politely as is possible for someone that looks like Mr.
Potato Head.
Shinnai, sitting behind a desk, jots down the information on a ready hide.
"Thank you, Teraille." She gives a real smile, as opposed to Jeranium's.
Teraille nods to Shinnai and shifts her weight slightly, hands slipping
behind her back. "If I may ask a question briefly?"
Caramak bites his tongue to keep down a smile at Jeranium's addition.
Somehow, he always finds the sedentary Journeyman far more amusing than said
Journeyman finds anything else in the world. Mak nods as Shinnai finishes
writing, looking down at his notes then up again at Teraille. "Surely...Ask
away."
Shinnai nods her assent, although Jeranium grunts briefly.
"Some of the faces here are unfamiliar to me," Teraille says, a bit
hesitantly. "Could I have names to go with them?"
The look on Jeranium's portly visage seems to say that such a thing is not
necessary; after all, Teraille is the examinee, not the examiner.
Shinnai volunteers her own name; it's been quite a while, if Teraille met her
at all. "Shinnai. I used to be a regular here, as Jeranium, the journeyman
to your left, will tell you. Caramak, I'm afraid there are some new faces
to me as well, so if you'll perform the rest..?"
Teraille nods to Shinnai, recognizing her once she hears the name. Jeranium
-- Upon hearing his name her eyes light in barely supressed mirth.
Caramak smiles slightly and nods. "Alright...Going quickly around, we have:
Jeranium, Brindle, Rowan, Amar," he points to each in turn, Amar being the
scribe, and sitting beside Shinnai, "then Shinnai and I hope you recognize
me, Tayre, Veldan and Blanton..."
Teraille nods. "Thank you, sir."
Jeranium seems oblivious to any humor he might present, for he nods grumpily.
Puffy circles beneath his eyes are due to more than indulgence, and speak
of long and recent hours with the youngest of the apprentices as they learn
to play their instruments. (ouch!)
Teraille would wince sympathetically if she understood the language of puffy
circles.
Caramak glances around the circle once more. "Alright, then...All set to
begin?" He glances at his notes once more and then up again.
Teraille nods slightly, again shifting her stance.
Shinnai readies her pen, dipping it lightly in the inkwell and keeping it
poised above the hide. Amar, beside her, has in front of him the agenda,
and Shinnai glances at it and then looks to Caramak.
Teraille tries very hard not to fidget, by locking her eyes directly on the
wall in front of her.
Caramak looks up at Teraille. "Alright. Suppose that you're researching a
Conclave that was two full Passes ago which /might/ have witnessed the
altering of the border between Ruatha and High Reaches. One would think
that such an usual event would be well recorded; but the case is unclear.
Maps from that long ago are generally blurred, but an old one was recently
found which seems to indicate that there /was/ a change; this Conclave is
remembered as being a tense time, but the reasons are left unremembered; the
obvious hypothesis is that this shift might have caused it." Mak pauses in
his recitation and leans back in his chair somewhat. "Where do you go to
try and find clues about this? What are your first steps?"
The corpulent Journeyman leans against the back of his chair, which creaks in
protest as Jeranium covers a yawn.
Teraille considers. "The first thing I'd have to look for would be records
from before that time from the areas that would have changed. There may be
something there that mentions an allegiance illogial with current
boundaries." She pauses, considering. "I'd also have to look at who drew
the maps and what other records we have of that person. It's quite possible
he's not overly reliable." She thinks for another moment, her eyes falling
to the floor as her brow furrows in concentration.
"Also," Teraille adds, "there might be songs of it. If it was a tense
conclave. . ." She glances at Caramak.
Amar considers this answer gradually; his expression transparent as the
thoughts pass across his face. "Where would you look to find this
information?" the young archivist asks.
Teraille smiles. "Well, first, I'd consider things like weather and
agricultural reports. Perhaps tithe records." She considers, beginning to
get into this. "Even diaries, or such things. People mention little
things. Of course, there is the issue of whether they would have been
preserved, so I would have to go with things /like/ the tithe records. . .
Actually, that's probably where I'd begin. And then at records of what
certain holds produced. . . The songs are everywhere. I could go through
the archive vault and check. Chronologically. Or even go with smith
records and the like. They'd likely have records of postings -- postings!
I didn't even think of that! Where people were posted, cotholds they
stopped at just on one side of the border. . ."
Shinnai prompts quickly, "And you would find these records by travelling
where?"
"Well, HarperHall first," Teraille begins. "It's a good place to start for
records. Then the Weyrs. Beginning, obviously, with Fort and High Reaches.
Then the Holds themselves. Ruatha and High Reaches. Then the other
crafthalls, neighboring holds. . ."
Shinnai allows Amar to take over recording for a moment, shaking out a slight
cramp in her fingers. "And suppose you found what you were looking at?"
s/at/for
Shinnai continues the questioning. "How do you go about recording this for
posterity? What are the legal ramifications of such an event, and who could
have gotten this to happen?"
Teraille raises an eyebrow. "Actually, that's an interesting question. It
could be a matter of dispute between High Reaches and Ruatha today,
depending on who lost or gained land." She pauses. "In terms of the
recording, the best we can to it to write treatises on it and such. We
cannot go back and write it into prior works. That would be cheapening
everything. As for the why. . . " She trails off, deep in thought.
Jeranium prompts, his voice and manner hoarse from reprimanding children all
day, "Why would a Lord give up a holding? What could force him?"
Amar scribbles quickly away at his sheet of hide, glance up occasionally.
It's quite obvious the young man is a scribe by trade; the pen flicks over
the paper lightly. As she trails off, he glances up again, the flow of his
pen ceasing temporarily.
Teraille takes a deep breath. "There are a few explanations I can think of.
One is that the people who lived on that land wished to move, and, for the
sake of simplicity and avoiding conflict, the Lord Holder allowed it. The
other explanation is that he was ruled not capable of managing as much land
as he had. The others could have taken away part of it for that reason."
She pauses again. "Or perhaps it was mutually decided. It's possible
neither gained or lost land, that the border was simply reshaped."
"Or perhaps -- " Teraille breaks off, her eyes mildly unfocused.
In the distance, the drums announce the departure of Apprentice Sayanna.
Shinnai watches Teraille, wondering if she's had so little sleep that she's
disoriented.
Teraille looks directly at Jeranium as she continues, her eyes coming back
into focus at the though solidifies. "Perhaps he was dead. Perhaps he died
without naming an heir. That would have to be researched, too. There are
too many possibilities, and we can't know for sure without a great deal of
research."
Jeranium harrumphs; perhaps he was satisfied, perhaps not.
Teraille glances back at Shinnai, then Caramak.
Caramak keeps his face impassive, but glances at Jeranium for the next
question.
Teraille follows Caramak's eyes back to the journeyman.
And so, Jeranium fires off another one, his pedantic instincts reawakening
for the moment. "As a journeyman, young Teraille, your responsiblities
would greatly increase." This is a fact; there is no question here. "And
suppose that you are posted to a small hold. You take a new student and are
acting as her mentor. After an uneventful month, this student disappears.
You have no word for a sevenday, and then she returns. What do you do with
her?" He seems to be implying something rather directly in this question.
Teraille flushes. "Um. Yeah. I was expecting something like this. . . "
She pauses for a long moment. "I check to make sure she's all right, first.
She's going to be at the healers before she can even open her mouth to
explain. After that. . . " She sighs, considering.
Jeranium grunts, and settles back in his poor chair again. The effort isn't
worth the trouble, it appears.
Caramak nods slightly. "She's fine. She's a little thin...she hasn't had
much to eat in the last sevenday, but she's come out of it ok." He
considers a moment. "She seems rather sheepish...but doesn't really
volunteer information."
"Well," the senior apprentice says thoughtfully, "I'd ask where she'd been.
If she doesn't tell me, she's going to be out of the hall fully as quickly
as she was at the healers. If she does tell me. . . well, it depends on
where she was. For not contacting me, she's going to be, at the very least,
confined to the hall for twice the time she was away. Two sevendays, in
this case. After that. . . Well, it depends on her reason."
Shinnai smiles slightly, looking directly at Teraille. "The reason she gives
is that she heard an old woman singing in distinctly odd keys, and wanted to
record it. And in fact, she has recorded it remarkably well, for she has a
good sense of relative pitch and has documented a 14-step scale."
Teraille sighs and rubs at her jawline. "And why didn't she ask me before
she left?"
Shinnai grins, and shrugs as if she were the guilty apprentice caught by
circumstance. "It's tough to come back for permission when you don't want to
lose your quarry."
Teraille nods. "Why didn't she ask the old woman to stay?"
Caramak sits back and watches Shinnai with just a touch of amusement. She
does the part of the guilty Apprentice well.
Shinnai looks innocent. "Well, she never really thought of that." A simple
answer, really, though not much of an excuse.
Teraille sighs. "How old are you, precisely?" She unconsciously slips into
the role.
Shinnai also slips into the role, following Teraille's lead. "Fourteen turns,
Ma'am."
Teraille nods. "That's fourteen turns of dealing with people, and how many
turns working with a craft that specializes in communication?"
Shinnai looks down at the floor, guilty. "One and a bit, Ma'am."
Veldan tries not to look incredulous. Fourteen Turns indeed...Why the
woman's older than him! (Just turned thirty. Poor guy feels ancient.)
Teraille raises an eyebrow. "And yet you couldn't manage to communicate
either with me or this old woman?"
Shinnai slips a wink at Veldan, who looks far too serious, and is back in
character with hardly a lapse. "No, Ma'am. I had to follow for two days
before I caught up with her."
Teraille blinks. "Did she never /sleep/?"
Shinnai manages to look tired and hungry. "Not long enough," is her
long-suffering response.
Shinnai tells the rest of the story in brief. "On the third day I finally
caught up with her, and she let me learn some of her songs, but when I woke
up the next morning, she was gone again." A sigh. "_Then_ I had to get
_back!_"
Veldan blinks at Shinnai's wink, then resettles himself with a wry smile.
Mental note: learn not to leave your face open as the books you read.
Teraille rubs at her forehead. "Well, since you seem to have suffered a
severe lapse in communication skills, here's what I want you to do. First,
we discover what it is like to live without it. From the time this meeting
ends, I do not want to ehar a single word leave your lips for three days.
In that time and the following time, you will do some small tasks. First,
you will write five different versions of letters you /could/ have sent me.
Then you will spend some time dealing with all the communications those of
higher rank deal with -- all the letters we get, all the questions we get
asked. You will spend time reading speeches which have been transcribed.
This is what you will be doing during your confinement. Then you get to
spend some time communicating with a whole new group of people. The
drudges. You will be working with them for a week. Do you understand?"
Shinnai nods to Teraille, subdued.
Teraille nods, then turns to Caramak. "If, by the time her drudgework is to
begin, she does not look recovered from her journey, I will caution people
that she is to be given relatively light tasks for the time."
Amar breaks into a grin as he records the response, controlling his pen so
that it doesn't shake with his silent laughter. Punishment appreciated.
Shinnai returns to her own, 35-turn-old self, and gives a smile. "I think
she's learned her lesson," she remarks to Teraille. "Any further notes?"
Caramak leans on the desk, his chin in his hand and his mouth mostly covered
by his fingers; just the faintest hint of a smile peaks through. He gives
the faintest of nods, and glances from Shinnai to Teraille and back, and
then once at Jeranium, just for his own amusement.
Jeranium doesn't seem to have appreciated the humor in the situation, but
grunts approvingly at the mention of drudge work.
In the distance, the drums announce the arrival of Apprentice Kronos.
Teraille considers. "If she does speak in that time, her confinement to the
hall will be extended by one hour for every word."
Amar gives a quiet "oof" and adds that note.
Teraille thinks about this. "And after the drudge work, she will be back to
the original standing with me. I will, of course, send a report to
HarperHall for filing."
Shinnai nods, and glances to Caramak.
Caramak drops the hand away from his mouth again and nods. "Mmmm." He
glances around the circle to see if there are any other comments, then
plunges onward. "Now...to change the subject. Performance. And don't," he
adds quickly, "pull out your gitar yet, because first, we ask you some
questions about it..."
Teraille takes a deep breath, nodding.
Caramak folds his hands in front of him to keep himself from playing idly
with something on the desk. "We all have strengths and weaknesses in
performance. You're about to be a Journeyman; one of your tasks will be to
help people with their performance, to empasize their strengths and downplay
their weaknesses. So. What would you tell someone...if on the day of his
performance, this Apprentice came down with a cold? He's an all around
decent performer, nothing spectacular...But he can't get out of the
performance, either."
Teraille considers. "Could I have more specifics, please? What instrument?
Who will be at the concert? How severe a cold? Why can't he get out of it?
Is he stuck with a specific piece, or could he choose another?"
Brindle interjects. "Gitar; say it's his Journeyman exam. You happen to
know you won't be on the panel, so it's not like there'll be a conflict of
interest or anything...He /can't/ chose his piece, but he could admit to
having a cold and ask that they be nice to him." The white haired
Journeyman glances Jeranium's way; he knows exactly what the planted one
would think of admitting to being sick. "The cold isn't all /that/ severe,
though. Lowers his voice about a third and makes it just a touch scratchy
if he tries to go up as high as usual."
Teraille nods. "So his voice /is/ going to come into it." She considers for
a moment. "He should go easy on the voice, if it becomes necessary to sing.
Keep it soft, and try to carry it more through feeling than technical
proficiency. Your ear sometimes goes when you have a cold, so just make
sure the gitar is there. If it becomes necessary to go too high, think
about it. Decide in advance what you can do. If you can't, consider
alternate melody lines that fit into the gitar. And explain that you aren't
feeling well. If you think there will be trouble in advance, ask the panel
if they'd prefer him to push through or take that initiative and improvise
it. And try to put the emphasis on the performance, not the music." Her
brow furrows. "That was fairly scattered. Sorry."
Jeranium looks dubious, his bulbous features set in an unreadable mask.
Shinnai smiles, and nods. "All good points, although don't mistake volume for
technical proficiency. Good vocal technique will make up for a lot."
Shinnai expands upon the initial question then, with a different scenario.
"And what is your advice for a person who is a fantastic composer, a
talented instrumentalist, but has a voice the quality of a wherry's? How
can they give a good performance all 'round, in a place where they have to
both play and sing?"
Teraille nods. "But I'm sayong that if the technical details of the music
can't be there -- for example, forte on the G or something sickening like
that -- to go for feeling abover that. Or if you can't hit the notes at
all, to try and let the feeling be there. And don't decide it's all over if
you make a mistake. We're all human. Even the examiners." A quick glance
at Jeranium. "No matter how it looks." She grins.
Amar gives a quick grin, sharing the joke and carefully not looking at the
plant-like journeyman.
Teraille considers. "Define voice like a wherry's. Do you mean there voice
simply isn't appealing, or that they don't have technical proficiency with
it, or that their range is poor, or what?"
Caramak puts his chin in his hand again, carefully covering a smile from
Jeranium's sight. Wouldn't do to be caught /smiling/ during an /exam/. How
improper.
You say, "Pretty much all three, although the apprentice has had some vocal
training. He knows how to breathe, and sings on pitch, but the tone of his
voice, even at its best, leaves something to be desired."
Teraille nods. "The first thing I'd suggest is something along the lines of
the first chorus of Master Caramak's song "Will I Still Love You."
Something that has the words spoken, not sung. Spoken word and music can
mingle very powerfully." A pause. "Also, depending on the mood of the
song, an unappealing voice can be a plus. If it's about an uncomfortable
topic. . . Or to show contrast, perhaps. . ."
Shinnai nods. "Luckily for him, he's an excellent instrumentalist and knows
how to write for himself. How about another one, Caramak?" She turns to her
fellow Master, awaiting.
Teraille shifts her weight slightly, hands slipping behind her back as she
looks to Caramak.
Something on Jeranium's face leads one to believe that he's heard too many
wherry-like voices in his time.
Caramak smiles slightly. "Yes...One more. Suppose the Apprentice who comes
to you has a wonderful voice; great range, lovely pitch, intoxicating
tone...But has next to no technique on her instrument...harp, say. How
would you advise her to improve /her/ performance, in general?"
Teraille sighs. "Practice. Or try a new instrument. Or try simpler
melodies. Don't aim for complicated chords. Simplify. Play things softer.
. . "
Shinnai chuckles softly, glancing at Amar's notes briefly as she listens.
Teraille takes a deep breath. "Play slower pieces, ask someone with
knowledge in harp for help, run things by people in advance and see what
they think, never have the instrument alone if it's avoidable. . ."
Teraille smiles wryly. "And don't give up hope and smash it."

Teraille (#7076)
An air of presence follows this young woman, whose five feet and eight inches
of height don't seem enough to describe her. Her long brown hair is
carefully tooled into a fishtail braid falling more than halfway down her
back. Confident green eyes sweep the room, seeming to take it in with a
single glance. Her stance is easy, and her footing solid. As she speaks,
her hands move easily in a silent illustration of her points. Lightly
tanned skin covers a figure toned by exercise and hard work. Her eyes,
though not hard, are firm, and still carry with them an air of serenity and
self-satisfaction. A hidden light sparkles behind them still, but it is
under control, and adds to a subtle maturity. Her chin is held proudly,
adding to the appearance of height.
Teraille's tunic and leggings of Harper blue have obviously seen better days.
They are faded and have clearly been mended a few times, but they are clean
and neatly worn. Chosen for comfort and ease of movement, they are loose
and easily stretchable, falling across her shoulders and hips gracefully.
Two bracelets of carved silver with tourquise inlay of dragonwings rest
loosely about her wrist sliding against the skin and one another.
A new knot graces Teraille's shoulder, that of a Harper Senior Apprentice.
She wears it with the pride and dignity she knows her craft deserves.
Teraille looks a bit worn, but in control of it. Her slipping poise has
returned to her, and she holds herself tall and proud. Her eyes are just
slightly reddened, but her smile seems natural.
She is awake and looks alert.
Teraille is 26 Turns, 8 months, and 1 day old.
Shinnai grins wryly in response; then asks, "Well, presuming your own
instrument is still intact, shall we hear a bit of practical knowledge in
performance? You should know the old Teaching Song 'the Harper's Chore', I
presume."
Teraille nods. "I do."
Jeranium goes through this one at least three times a day, it seems, for all
the enthusiasm he shows at the prospect of hearing Teraille perform. He
gives a quiet 'harrumph', and settles his midsection more firmly on his
nether regions which, in turn, utilize the everpresent forces of gravity to
become melded around the seat of the chair. The unfortunate chair gives
every indication of falling in; but luckily, the floor still holds.
Teraille glances at Jeranium and smiles apologetically.
Shinnai waits for a moment, and when it looks as though Teraille hasn't
moved, adds, "Perhaps you could perform it for us, then."
Teraille flushes, taking her gitar from the floor beside her and tuning it as
quickly as possible, mere adjustments from the work she has already done.
She glances up at Shinnai before beginning.
Shinnai smiles, waiting for the apprentice to commence.
Teraille hesitates. "Shall I sing and play, or simply play?"
Shinnai raises an eyebrow. "Are there words to the song, and an
accompaniment?" she asks rhetorically.
Teraille nods, glancing down and checking the tuning one last time. Stall,
her? Never. Finally she begins, her fingers beginning the piece a bit
slower than usual. The opening notes seem almost hesitant, but weave
themselves into a more coherent whole as she reaches the vocals. Her eyes
remain riveted on her instrument as the words seem to come naturally,
mingling in and around the music, just slightly louder than the chordings
are. The words are clear and carefully dictated, and the chords seem to
blend together beneath them. The tempo moves up slightly to where it should
be as she plays, and the notes seem to grow more confident as the words do.
Her voice trails out just slightly before the music, which again winds down
to the diminished tempo before resolving themselves and finishing.
Jeranium doesn't even seem to be listening, so it must be relatively pleasant.
Teraille's hand wraps around the neck of her gitar as she watches the others
in the room.
Shinnai, in contrast, listens closely, watching Teraille's guitar technique
closely. As the apprentice finishes, she first nods approvingly, and then
questions. "Teraille, I notice that in the first verse, you accented the
chords which underscore the words "duty", and also "pride". In the score,
these accents are unmarked, and as one says the words, the accent falls
elsewhere in the sentence. Tell me, what is the thought behind that?"
Tekran walks in.
Teraille smiles a bit. "To be honest, I hadn't noticed myself doing that."
Tekran waves and smiles to all preasent
Jeranium glances up, his mouth set in his usual expression of displeasure,
and notices Tekran. His eyebrow raises questioningly, and his bulk shifts
slightly in his chair. "Ahem. Yes?" He challenges.
Tekran turns to Caramak, "Are you Caramak, or do you know where I can find
him?"
At Jeranium's comment, Teraille turns, and her face becomes an interesting
shade of crimson. She turns back to the ranking people, a pleading look on
her face.

Tekran (#8626)
Tekran is about five feet with rusty brown hair that swings wildly about when
he walks. He is about 15 turns and 12 days. he looks ready and rested. He
has green eyes, a long face, and strong build. His eyes pick up every detail
of the room with their sea green color, and his lips are a light redish
color.
He is awake and looks alert.
Caramak raises his eyebrows at Tekran. "I would be the one you seek...But
we're in the middle of a Journeyman examination...Could I request that you
return at another time?"
Tekran bows, "Yes, of course, till later then."
Jeranium harrumphs, loudly.
Teraille's face returns to a close facsimile of its earlier color.
Caramak sighs and shakes his head. "Sorry about that. Should've locked the
door before we started..."
Teraille nods. "It's all right."
Shinnai chuckles slightly at Teraille's answer, and responds, "Well, at least
you're candid with us. Would there be a reason why you might want to accent
those chords, if you had realized?" she wonders, after the newcomer has left.
Caramak props his chin on his hand again and re-emerses himself in the exam.
Teraille considers. "In part because I think that is a major part of the
harpercraft for me. Duty -- " She pauses, ordering her thoughts. "Duty is
what I thrive off of, I think." Her voice lowers slightly in volume, still
audible, but just so. "Duty is what compels me. Duty towards friends,
towards the craft -- towards Pern, mostly." She considers again. "I think
that sense of duty is the most important part of me, to be honest." In some
sense, she seems to be talking to herself more than the examiners. "Duty
towards myself, I think, above anything else, though -- Though I think I
would rather hold Pern in higher esteem. I don't believe, in my deepest
heart, I do. I would be hard-pressed to sacrifice /me/. My life I could
give up, but I would find it hard to decide if someone asked me to change
who I was, and I knew it would be good for Pern. I don't know if I could go
on living my life after such a betrayal of self. . ." She trails off, her
eyes staring indistinctly at a random point in the air.
Tekran walks in from the ballroom.
Shinnai watches Teraille's self-examination with some curiousity. "An
interesting observation. But I think I see that Journeyman Blanton has a
question for you, as well."
Tekran glances at Caramak, "Good time yet sir?"
Jeranium, firmly planted on a chair, snorts somewhat louder than is polite as
he sees the boy stick his head in yet again. "Ahem. We will let you know,
child."
Caramak raises his eyebrows at Tekran. "No. Exams take a long
time...Tonight will probably be taken up..."
Teraille glances up at Shinnai speaks, startled. She starts again st the
voice from behind her, but doesn't turn this time, just closes her eyes and
tightens her lips.
Tekran blinks, "When may I see you then?"
Caramak sighs and closes his eyes. "Try me tomorrow?"
Amar's pen pauses; he has captured Teraille's soliloquoy verbatim, but looks
up to watch the interruption.
Tekran sighs himself, "sorry to bug you, when are you free tommarrow?"
Teraille's eyes open and she casts a mournful gaze at the ceiling.
Tekran drops hhis head, "sorry, I'll leave then."
Caramak opens his eyes again. "Try me around noon. Now please...?"
Tekran walks out into the ballroom.
Teraille lowers her eyes again, sighing slightly.
Jeranium also watches Tekran with a less-than-tolerant gaze. Finally, he
closes his eyes. When he hears the boy close the door behind him, his wish
has been fulfilled, and the first _ever_ hint of a smile appears on the
aging man's visage.
Caramak sighs and rubs his temples. "Oy. Blanton...? If you haven't
forgotten your question by now?"
Teraille glances over at Blanton, reaching up a hand to brush a hair from her
eyes. She leaves it near there, rubbing idly at her collarbone.
Blanton smiles wryly and nods. "No, I haven't." The young Journeyman,
younger than Teraille, relaxes. He'd been looking jumpy for a while
previously. "In the ...seventh measure? Yes, that was it. The seventh.
You used a Db major triad instead of a Bb minor seventh chord...Can I ask
why you made the substitution?"
Tekran walks in from the ballroom.
Tekran walks out into the ballroom.
Teraille shakes her head. "Because I can't get to the Bb minor," she
confesses. "Gitar has never been my strong point, and the chordings move
quickly just there. I can't get my fingers to obey me on that one, so I
substituted. I've worked with this piece enough to know that the Db works
in that spot. Besides which, I've /always/ though dropping a minor chord in
there makes it sound a bit off. It gives it this feeling taht just. . . I
don't know. It doesn't feel right. Which," she admits, "is likely the
reason I never nailed it home for myself. I could have, if I'd truly worked
at it. I didn't." SHe makes the admission easily.
Shinnai glances to Blanton and to Caramak, but doesn't appear to have
anything to add.
Caramak glances around the room, looking for any more comments or questions.
Then back to Teraille. "Alright...Just one more. Teaching. You're going
to be doing it. How do you go about preparing a good lesson plan? How do
you keep the class interested and involved? How do you try and make it
/enjoyable/, so that you don't go insane over it?"
Teraille considers this. "Well, first you need to know what you're going to
be doing, and you need to have some knowledge of it. . . more than you plan
to impart on your students. You have to be willing to admit that you don't
know something if you don't. You need to be prepared to have the lesson
change if it starts to drift off course. . . " She pauses to think. "You
want to get them into it. Have them teach each other as much as you
teaching them. Ask them questions, and listen to the answers. Consider
what they have to say, and be willing to change your ideas based on it.
After all, we're harpers. We have to be openminded, to consider everything
and be willing to change."
Caramak nods to the answer and stands up, glancing up and down the rough line
of Masters and Journeymen.
Teraille's eyes follow Caramak while the rest of her doesn't move.
Shinnai nods agreeably, while Amar scribes. Jeranium, on Teraille's left,
doesn't move, but merely grunts.
Caramak reaches into a drawer of the desk and pulls out a neatly braided knot
of Harper blue, a size bigger than Teraille's current one. "Congratulations,
Journeyman," he pronounces solemnly. He steps around the desk with two
strides of his long legs and offers her the knot.
Teraille blinks, looking at the knot. "Don't you need to confer or
anything?" She looks back up, her eyes wide.
>@emit Jeranium hefts himself from his chair and grunts softly, although not as menacingly as perhaps a moment. "Don't look a gift runner in the mouth, girl," he advises. He might even be joking with her. Nah.
Jeranium hefts himself from his chair and grunts softly, although not as
menacingly as perhaps a moment. "Don't look a gift runner in the mouth,
girl," he advises. He might even be joking with her. Nah.
In the distance, the drums announce the arrival of Master Jaril.
Caramak laughs lightly. "Didn't you see them nod? I don't think there was
really any disagreement..."
Teraille glances at Jeranium, Shinnai. . . then the others, one at a time,
finally returning to Caramak. "You mean -- You're saying I passed?" She
can't seem to get this through her head.
Shinnai chuckles. "I'm sure you'll do the craft proud, Teraille."
Caramak nods, still holding out the knot. "Didn't I tell you...? Now,
before my arm gets tired..." He wiggles the knot.
Amar, putting the final seals on the hide record, stands and brings the pen
and hide to Teraille. "You only pass if you sign here," he grins openly to
the new journeywoman. "Without this, it won't be official."
Teraille blinks a few times, not so much in confusion as to get the tears out
of her eyes. She accepts the pen before the knot, signing her name and
looking at it for a moment, then hugging Amar before turning to Caramak and
hugging him. She pulls back for a bit of distance before accepting the knot
and looking at it, almost in disbelief. "Thank you. . . Thank you all."
She turns, her look encompassing the entire room.
Shinnai's eyes reflect her soft smile. It's always nice to see someone pass.
Teraille moves around the room, hugging each of her examiners in turn, even
Jeranium. Whether he likes it or not. An almost ludicrously wide smile
curves her lips.
Jeranium is an awfully large bit of flesh to hug, and takes to it poorly. He
stands, uncertain (he probably hasn't been hugged in a while) and waits for
it to be over, and then harrumphs, characteristically.
Teraille beams at Jeranium, then everyone. "Thank you," she repeats.
Shinnai shakes her head. "No, thank you, Teraille. It's not often we get an
apprentice as well-prepared as you were."
Teraille smiles and flushes slightly, then stops. "Hmm. I'm a journeyman
now."
Shinnai grins. "Notice I said 'were'."
Teraille smiles. "But this mean I can do things like have relationships.
Legitimately."
Caramak laughs and nods. "One of the many little side benefits..."
Shinnai's eyebrows go up. Yep, this one's quick alright.
Teraille grins, glancing at Caramak, then away. "Don't know how much use
I'll be getting out of that one, though. . ."
Caramak opens and closes his mouth once, then bites his tongue.
Teraille smiles a bit, shrugging.
Altra walks soundlessly in from the ballroom.
Teraille rises, looking at Altra. "May I help you?"
Altra drops to one knee in cold respect.
Teraille raises an eyebrow. "Apprentice. What may I do for you?"
Altra says in a neutral voice, "I wish to speak with you....alone."
Teraille nods. "If you'd like." She glances back at the others. "You will
excuse me?"
Jeranium harrumphs, ignores the apprentice (he deals with too many all day)
and gives a nod to each Journeman and Master left. Then, his heavy steps
lead him back out the door.
Shinnai helps Amar with the finalization of the document which promotes
Teraille to Journeywoman, then looks up as the Fortian scribe makes the
final notes, his quill scratching on the smoothed hide. "Teraille?" she
softly queries the newly promoted.
Shinnai nods. "Of course. All finished, Amar?"
Teraille shakes her head. "I'll handle it. Please, follow me.
Teraille walks calmly and with purpose out into the ballroom.
Amar nods, leaving the document to dry on the desk, and gathers up his
portfolio quickly.
Altra rises, and walks without a sound toward the door.
Altra walks soundlessly out into the ballroom.
Rhymert> Shainman Rehearsal Hall
Rhymert> The largest room in the Istan Harper Hall, save the Ballroom, this
room has wonderful acoustics that make sound bounce off the walls just so.
From lessons to rehearsal to just listening to the marvelous sounds always
filling the room, there's always a surplus of people about, harpers of every
rank, and even a few holders. Tiers fill almost every wall in the room, the
choir levels on the right, the orchestra one directly in and other smaller
areas for more specific group rehearsal on the left. The room is spotlessly
clean and only completely empty in the early hours of the morning when most
harpers have to tear themselves away from their work for a few winks of
sleep.
Rhymert> Below is one firelizard. and one person.
Rhymert> Obvious exits:
Rhymert> Main Hall Archive Vault
Rhymert> Rhymert blurps in from ::between:: and twitters cheerily.
Rhymert> Altra walks soundlessly in from the ballroom.
Rhymert> Teraille settles in a corner of the empty room. "What can I do for
you?"
Rhymert> Altra sits down, his voice quiet, even though it still carries,
"Permission to speak candidly, Journeyman."
Rhymert> Teraille considers Altra for a moment. "Granted, apprentice."
Rhymert> Altra nods, "You punished me today, because I didn't disclose
certain information to you, I expect you are wondering why."
Rhymert> Teraille shrugs slightly. "I must admit to curiousity, yes. You
told me you were sworn to secrecy, yet were perfectly willing to malign
Sahra and Jereg."
Rhymert> Altra seems to stare through you, as his eyes unfocus, "There was no
malice intended, only truth. But I'll get to that in a few minutes. The
reasons I haven't disclosed info to you is one," Altra holds up one finger,
"You do not trust me, and because you do not trust me, I cannot return that
trust. Two, you do not respect me, and so I cannot respect you either. You
are making it difficult for me to adjust, reminding me that I am a warrior,
not a harper. So therefore, I cannot trust or respect you. I can only
respect the position you hold."
Rhymert> Teraille shrugs. "I have no problem with that. But as
counter-evidence. I do not trust you because you have a heavy violent
tendency. I respect you as much as any who cannot hold his emotions in
check. And if you are going to be a harper, you have to understand
something. Our neutrality is the most hightly prized attribute we have.
Had you told me the truth, I would have made a judgement based on those
facts, /not/ on any feelings I have or don't have towards you."
Rhymert> Altra's eyes re-focus, "I did /tell/ you the truth, just not all of
it."
Rhymert> Teraille nods. "So, will you tell me the full truth?"
Rhymert> Altra makes a counter-offer, "If you will retrieve the punishment
you laid on me."
Rhymert> Teraille nods slightly. "The punishment was for a number of things,
one of which was your refusal to tell me. If you /will/ tell me, I will
halve it.
Rhymert> Altra stares at you intently, "That is no good, either all or
nothing. You want me to tell you all of the truth, and I want you to take
all of the punishment away, that's the deal."
Rhymert> Teraille shakes her head. "Then live with the punishment." SHe
rises. "Is there anything else?"
Rhymert> Altra nods to himself, "I thought so, I have one last thing to tell
you, even though you will probably punish me even more. I would tell you the
truth, but I can see that you don't care whether I tell you the truth or
not, in so doing, to me you are nothing but an unjust and unfair woman. You
seek only to punish those who you feel have slighted you." Altra bows
formally, "Then so be it."
Rhymert> Altra says, "If you wish to have me trust you, show me how.
Otherwise, it can't happen.""
Rhymert> Altra gets up, staff in hand, and with a sweep of his staff, bows
completely formal, and stiff.
Rhymert> Teraille nods slightly. "I gave you permission to speak freely, and
so I will accept that opinion. However, you have said as much before, and
if you insist on believing it, you may wish to avoid this contact with me.
If you persist in acting this way towards those who outrank you, you will be
cast from the craft. do you understand?"
Rhymert> Rhymert sails down from a high ledge with a cheery chirrup, and
lands on the back of a chair near Teraille. She proceeds to preen, paying
little attention to the conversation.
Rhymert> Altra shrugs, "Not that it matters, but yes. Now, I will respect
your position, but not you yourself. I also have to tell you, that punishing
me only brings retribution, or thought of. That is no way to lead someone.
If you are going to try to bend me to your will, you'll find you'll have to
break me, and /that/ my dear journeyman will be a difficult thing to do. As
I said, I will respect your position as a journeyman, but that is all."
Rhymert> Teraille nods slightly. "Then go."
Rhymert> Altra
Rhymert> This young man looks like he has seen better days. Standing 3 inches
over 6 feet, he is slim, but well muscled. His face is bronzed from being
out in the sun, but looks like it was carefully crafted by an artist. He has
a hawk-like nose jutting out from his face. His most striking feature is his
eyes, which seem to be pure silver. His eyes seem to be sad and somewhat
mocking.
Rhymert> On his left wrist, you notice a yellowing scar running from his
wrist to his elbow, as if it had been cut. Also visible is what looks like
whip marks on his chest, these can be slightly seen just over the top of his
tunic.
Rhymert> He carries an intricately carved staff, which he uses to support
himself, and as a weapon if need be. Standing erect, his posture seems to be
stiff and formal. Attached to his belt is a finely carved bone flute and a
carved pan pipe.
Rhymert> You also notice a thin, angry red scar running from his wrist to hi
elbow.
Rhymert> He is wearing a white tunic and trousers with boots to match, and
using a short length of rope as a belt.
Rhymert> Altra wears his Harper Apprentice knot on his shoulder with pride.
Rhymert> He is awake and looks alert.
Rhymert> Carrying:
Rhymert> Pan pipes
Rhymert> whittling knife
Rhymert> staff Altra's Bone Flute
Rhymert> Altra is 21 Turns, 6 months, and 19 days old.
Rhymert> Altra nods, "I'm not finished, I said I would tell you the truth,
even now you won't retreat your punishment, but I did say it, so here it is.
Rhymert> Teraille folds her arms patiently, waiting.
Rhymert> Altra walks over toward you until he is a foot away. He lays his
staff down near his feet.
Rhymert> Teraille holds her ground, though her hand moves to clutch the
leather of her belt pouch.
Rhymert> Rhymert twitters softly to herself, examining the seam of the chair.
Rhymert> Altra puts up a placating hand, "Don't worry, if I harm you, I'm out
of the harpers, this is why I laid down my staff, to show you I mean no
harm."
Rhymert> Teraille nods slightly. "Then give me that truth and move on with
it."
Rhymert> Altra locks his gaze with yours, "Patience, Journeyman."
Rhymert> Altra takes a deep breath and moves on with it.
Rhymert> Teraille watches calmly, waiting.
Rhymert> Altra says, "To start off with, Sahra /did/ try to have me killed.
By Jereg's hand. Now the reason I believe this is because one, Jereg
threatened me. Now Sahra and Jereg are friends, so one must conclude that
Sahra put him up to it."
Rhymert> Teraille raises an eyebrow. "I see. Continue."
Rhymert> Altra says, "I had gone up to apologize to sahra yesterday, about
something in which you have no business, but ended up making things worse,
now Jereg, being friends with sahra, decides he's going to solve her problem
for me. What /he/ didn't count on was phagian, and the fact that I can
defend myself. Now I had gone into the mug, where Jereg threatened me
further. I reminded him that it was a place of peace and should weapons be
drawn, well you know about that."
Rhymert> Teraille simply watches silently.
Rhymert> Altra looks into your eyes to see if there is understanding, or at
least trust that what he is saying is the truth.
Rhymert> Teraille's face is expressionless. "Continue."
Rhymert> Altra nods, "I solved the problem by making a vow to Sahra, and one
other girl in there who was a friend of Jereg's, that vow is not to
acknowledge her or speak to her again. Jereg seemed satisfied. Sahra was
involved indireectly, but nevertheless, indirectly or directly, she did try
to have me killed, point of fact she admitted to not having the money to
hiring Jereg, but said if she had had it. she would have done so." Altra's
eyes grow warmer.
Rhymert> Teraille raises an eyebrow. "What did you do you get her so upset?"
Rhymert> Altra thinks aloud, "I must take the first step otherwise, she'll
never trust me." he says to himself.
Rhymert> Both of Teraille's eyebrows lift at this, but she remains silent.
Rhymert> Altra's shoulder droop with weariness, "Do you really want to know?
No disrespect intended."
Rhymert> Teraille nods. "I do."
Rhymert> Altra nods, "Well it was before I came to be a harper, but anyway, I
had slit my wrist," he points to the now-yellowing scar on his left
forearm,"Ridiculed her craft, and pretty much made a complete fool of myself
doing so."
Rhymert> Altra says, "And when I had regained my memories, it shook me to the
core."
Rhymert> Teraille nods. "And for this alone she wanted to have you killed?"
She sounds just a bit dubious.
Rhymert> Altra says, "There was a bit more to that, but I honestly cannot
remember."
Rhymert> Teraille nods slowly. "Consider your punishment reduced by one
seven-day."