Tabletop Tableau

Xanadu Weyr - Wanderin' Wherry Tavern

It is often whispered in the crowds that converge here, that a certain Weyrleader was asked what he wanted in the remodeling of the pub that was not so long ago given a refreshing. He muttered back over the rim of his ever-present mug, "I don't care what you do with the place, just so long as there is plenty of ale." With that in mind, cask after cask of ale lines the walls of the tavern, the remodeler's idea of a jest. As they age, the casks bring a real rustic atmosphere to the pub, along with the deeply wooden flavor that seems to be the theme throughout.
The lighting is dim, as it should be in all good pubs, and the tables and chairs are plentiful. A long mahogany bar, intricately carved with runner beasts, stands vigilant duty at the head of the bar, lined with stools for those patrons that seek the bartender's company.

It's a plenty Xanadu sort of day out, that's for sure. Sharp gusts of wind blow cold blasts of frozen snow into faces and otherwise. Being late in the evening, quite a few people have taken refuge inside the Wanderin' Wherry, and Catallian is more or less in his element. This is the sort of thing that the bartender thrives on, a hand on a shoulder here, a conspiritorial wink there and always an ever present smile on his face. The gossip he must be gathering is enormus. Either way, with the place mostly full, the only available seats are actually at the bar, up near the end. Convinenently, there are two, and Catallian lounges on his side of the bar behind them, taking a momentary break.

Crowds are not Miah's thing. At all. But here she is, blown in from outside. It's dark, icy and the wind cuts through even the warmest of winter wear, but that hasn't stopped her from being out in it and being out for quite awhile by the look of her as she steps into the Wandering Wherry. That wind has had its way with her hair, auburn strands tumbled about her face, her cheeks, the tip of her nose are reddened with cold, grey eyes are brilliant and the hands she's pulling out of her mittens are stiff and fumbling enough to drop one while trying to stuff them in her jacket pockets.

Gorrin is a late arrival to the tavern, coming in well after saner minds have already fled to the warmth and comfort provided within. His heavy clothes, a mix of dark and light colors to blend in with the snowy forests, suggest he's actually been out hunting despite the inhospitable weather. If his somewhat grumpy expression is any indication, it was not a very successful venture. Or perhaps he shares Miah's distaste for crowds. If so, he's still willing to bear it for a warm roof and a strong drink. He makes his way through the crowd as gracefully as possibly, murmuring an apology to Miah on the way before claiming a seat at the bar. Noticing the bartender is already on break, he patiently waits.

Catallian isn't really obviously and clearly on break per say. What he's actually doing is just getting a moment of space and a breath and a chance to sip at the mug of ale that he has there. Then, Miah and Gorrin come in and Catallian looks up; giving both a very deliberate smile to indicate that he has seen them. His bright eyes follow their progress, especially Gorrin's as the other nears. "What'll it be, Fella?" He says. "Soup's terrific today, fresh bread's even better. Brew of the day is better yet." His voice is just as affable as his mannerisms, though his eyes are watching the lady rather than the man. Not in any sort of lecharous way or anything like that, she's just caught his eye because she hasn't approached yet. Or maybe it's the windblown half frozen look that garners pity, who knows!

Miah's eyes have the alert of one born to the woods, almost too on-guard as she notes with a wince the place is not only packed, but there are no corners to hide away in. But she is here for a reason and so, stepping aside so Gorrin can pass, she bends, picks up her mitten, stuffs it into her pocket and heads resolutely up to the one seat left at the bar. She's noticed the bartender's regard, but that would be expected for someone working this place - it's his job to notice folk. entering. She's chilled but the place is so warm in contrast to the atmosphere she just left that she shrugs out of her jacket before hopping lightly up onto that stool beside just as Catallian mentions the soup. She'll wait until he asks her, then with a quiet smile, "The soup and the hottest klah you have please." And while he's getting their orders, she tilts a wry sympathy on her neighbor, "The forest creatures hide in the thickets where clear shots are hard to come by." If anyone knows a hunter when she sees one, it would be her!

Gorrin returns the bartender's smile with a little one of his own. "Soup, bread, and brew. Those all sound fine indeed. I'll have one of each." Noticing the bartender's divided attention he glances back over his shoulder, following his gaze to the woman he brushed past earlier, spotting her again just as she claims that stool near his. Her remark brings a bit of a grin to his face. "Sadly true. The snow only makes it worse. I take it you're no stranger to the woods yourself, then?"

Mikal isn't hiding from any duties today as he's got them all done and is in here to avoid being out there with the snow on the ground. Mikal seems a bit surprised at the fullness of the tavern so he pauses in the door as he kicks his feet a bit to get all the snow off.

Catallian lingers behind the bar, leaning one elbow atop the shining surface. "Figures a pair of bush-pounders find each other that easily. Some things just stand out." He grins, the smile increasing to show bright teeth. "Spent a good time hunting in my younger days, mostly from runner back though." Never mind he's not even that old. "Wasn't always a bartender and I wasn't always at Xanadu, but that's another story." He seems to just dissapear in the way only bartenders can; returning after a moment with Gorrin's order. The soup is served in a bowl with a handle, piping hot and full of meat with a layer of cheese over it. A fresh loaf of bread, cut in half is placed between the two. "I suppose you two can share while you talk about things you've made dead and the scars you've earned doing it?" Then he dissapears again, and it's a minute or two before he returns with Miah's soup and her klah. Then he vanishes anew to serve some others and when he returns, it's to his little 'break' spot again, sipping from his neglected ale.

Miah's mouth opens to retort to the bartender, then closes as the man goes on about his 'youth'. That he's obviously still in. Her soft chuckle turns to a look of distaste at his 'things you've made dead' comment but she doesn't really have time to correct him as he's off to get her order. To Gorrin, she explains, "The woods are all I've ever known, really. Until I came out to Xanadu. I grew up in the swamps of Mire." Her soup and klah arrive just then and she slides the marks for them across the bar to Catallian, wrapping long fingers around that mug. She doesn't drink right away, just allows the warmth to soak into her chilled hands while she inhales the steam of it. That's when she notices Mikal. She knows him - she's helped teach harpers classes that he's attended - and so her grey eyes crinkle as she smiles in friendly fashion to the teen over her mug.

Gorrin gives the bartender a smile that's a mix of something between amusement and mere grudging tolerance. But really, it's quite hard to become genuinely annoyed with someone who is bringing you delicious smelling food and drink. A grateful look is given before he takes up his spoon, inhaling the aroma of the soup deeply before he has a sip. That warms the bones. He looks up at Miah, now with some additional quantity of curiosity. "Really? Perhaps our perceptive friend here has a point, then. I've lived in the wilds my whole life myself." He sets the spoon down and extends his hand. "The name's Gorrin. "Pleased to meet you."

Mikal spies Miah and indeed recognizes her from the harper classes her's been in. So she gets a quick smile in greeting as he approaches the bar for lack of anywhere else to sit, sliding into a seat. "Evening." he greets those around him though he doesn't seem interested in order yet.

Catallian is about to respond to Gorrin and Miah both, mouth opening when an entire bunch of rowdy people come in. "Excuse me." He says. "Do enjoy your food, I'd love to hear some of your hunting stories in a little bit. I really wasn't kidding when I said I spent a good amount of time in the saddle. I'd even come along on a trip if you asked." He says this to both of them, so it's not like he's hitting on either. "Swamps or forest." THen, with a tip of his imaginary hat, Catallian vanishes into the crowd to work.

Just a bare moment before that crowd, Jethaniel steps inside. He's not with them, but it's easy enough to confuse him for that, lost in the muddle for a moment. There's snow in his hair and he's wearing a fluffy blue scarf wrapped around his neck. "Bracing," he declares to nobody in particular, and none of that crowd acknowledges him with more than a glance. He pauses in the doorway, unwinding his scarf as he surveys the room. "Hmm. It appears this was a popular idea tonight. Unsurprising; the factors do lead to that conclusion. Perhaps that's an incentive to select a deliberately suboptimal choice when the margin in favor of a certain conclusion seem sufficiently large…" Now the crowd is actively ignoring him instead of just not paying attention. He doesn't seem to care, or notice.

It is, isn't it? Miah does add a soft, "Thank you," to Catallian though her gratitude is more on the reserved side of things. "Perhaps," she says grudgingly to Gorrin. Though she doesn't make friends so easily so she wouldn't call the bartender one quite yet. "Though I'm not so sure being stereotyped is the way to make a point." Of course this is said after Catallian is out of earshot. Her irritation is a short-lived thing, as brief as a summer shower and she shakes her head ruefully in the wake of the man's enthusiasm and persistence on the subject. Hunting trip? That might be interesting indeed! "Miah," she says finally, a genuine smile growing as she lowers the mug and offers now-warm fingers to shake Gorrin's hand. Mikal is sent a twinkled wink; she could tease him about doing his homework but she doesn't. That's when she overhears Jethaniel's self-commentary and bites back a laugh, instead noting over the heads between them, "The hearth in the caverns are worse." She checked there first, of course.

"Oh, you can't blame him for using stereotypes. Bartenders are all like that. They can't help it." Gorrin says with enough of a grin to hopefully give away that his remark is meant humorously. He retakes his spoon after the handshake, taking another sip of soup before replying to her introduction. "Fine to meet you, Miah. Have you gone out into the woods here much? It's quite a bracing time of year for it, but I've been seeing feline tracks around the outskirts." Curious at the commentary from Jethaniel, he looks in that direction with an amused smirk as he reaches for his drink, taking a long swig.
Jethaniel glances over at Miah. "Ah," he says, and ponders on that for a moment as he makes his way to an available seat - one which, as it happens, is nearby. "Interesting. There's a plausible case for this being the suboptimal choice, mind you, involving the relative costs, but you do raise a very good point in that not all the factors are necesarily obvious except in retrospect. A flaw in my analysis. Thank you." He inclines his head to her with a genuine seeming smile as he takes his seat.

"Are they?" Miah cranes her neck, looking for the 'tender with a thoughtful look that very clearly says she's not so sure she likes the trait. "I've never been in here and we didn't have a bartender at Mire. Just Pa, his Liquid Sunshine and some mugs." Oh, if Catallian were to hear that he could probably come up with something about naked, barefoot kids, goats and rusty cars (if Pern had them). "Well-met, Gorrin," she dips her head, pulling her hand back to her own space to break a bit of bread and dip it in her soup. She nods affirmative while biting into it, chews, and once swallowed answers, "My cottage is out there," a wave of her hand indicates the forest, "and I prefer not to be cooped up inside much, so ye-" Blink. Did she hear him correctly? "Felines? This close in?" Rather than looking fearful, she frowns. "They're getting bold. Gabit should know." And then of course there's Jethaniel, who causes her to reconsider, since she's just parted with some marks. "It's more crowded, anyway, so to me that's worse. I'd pay marks for a little solitude." Not that the pair of them aren't great company, mind.

Gorrin looks just a touch sheepish. "Ah, no. It was a, ah, poor attempt at a joke. He was making generalizations about hunters, so I was making a generalization about… nevermind. Didn't sound as good as it did in my head." He quickly downs more of his brew in an attempt to escape the awkward moment. Onto more serious topics of conversation. "I couldn't agree more. I am not an… indoors kind of person. Even less a crowds sort of person. But some nights, it's just too cold even for a campfire to warm the bones." A little nod is given on the topic of felines. "Aye. And I spoke to a Healer apprentice the other evening who said they've been trouble around here. I'm going to try to do what I can about thinning their numbers. I don't suppose you have any experience in that department?" He scoots a bit to one side to make room for Jethaniel to sit near them, greeting the fellow with another little smile. "Every choice has its merits and flaws, wouldn't you say?"

Jethaniel turns his gaze to Gorrin, with a half-nod. "A truism; however, as she's pointed out," he inclines his head to Miah again, "-what constitutes a merit or a flaw is going to vary by the person. Another difficulty in the analysis." He pauses for a moment, considering. "This may be an ultimately futile field of inquiry, being too complex. Nevertheless." The next stage in his analysis, evidently, requires a drink; or at least, his continued presence in the bar does! So he puts in his order for a stout with one of the bartender's assistants.

Miah would, of course miss that until explained. Even working as Harpers Assistant and furthering her own patchy education on the side can't erase turns of reclusive clan-living. She sips from her klah, watching Gorrin's face while she sorts through what he has to say and her chuckle is weak at best. "Oh, ha!" Awkward indeed. She lifts a spoonful of her soup, blows on it, tentatively takes a taste. Grey eyes widen in genuine appreciation. The bartender was right - it is delicious! But campfire, her neighbor has said and she turns to peer at him. "You're living out through the winter? Mighty cold for that." She's stating the obvious; he knows that already and thus it's his question to her that she focuses on between bites. "You mean healing? Or hunting felines?" Jethaniel's astute observation receives a nod of agreement and then she has to know, "What are you inquiring into? Booze?"

"Indeed, mighty cold. Hence why I've fled here for the evening." Gorrin responds to Miah with a little chuckle between sips of drink and soup. "I hope your cottage provides you with more protection than fire alone… and I meant feline hunting. Seems to me the place could use a few hands on the task, before anything happens." He chomps down a chunk of bread before he looks curiously to Jethaniel again. His hand is offered in introduction. "Gorrin. Hunter." He says, going for the brief route. "You are a local, I would guess?"

"Social dynamics," Jethaniel answers Miah. Because that's definitely a field where analysis will be wholly effective. Why, one day, it might even supplant intuition… or maybe not. Those soft fuzzy social skills do seem to have the advantage now and then. "My inquiries into booze tend to be more… concrete." Ah, there's his drink! He has a sip, then looks back to Gorrin, setting down his mug and extending his own hand to meet the hunter's. "I'm Jethaniel," he says. "Techcraft. I suppose it depends on what you mean by local; certainly, I'm posted here at Xanadu." He smiles, and adds back to Miah, "If you require a heater for your cottage, we've set some of the senior apprentices to building them. It's good practice for them."

"Well, they won't let you sleep in here," meaning the bar. Miah's helpful when it comes to stating the obvious. Her spoon clatter-clinks in her bowl, empty too soon and she retakes her mug, which one of the servers has re-filled, the young woman giving Gorrin a perplexed look over the rim regarding her cottage. "Most of them are insulated and have electricity. And beds; mine is no exception." By the look on her face, it's quite likely she's trying to figure out how long it's been since he's lived in one. "You should talk to the Weyrwoman and see if they'd put you up at Xanadu for the winter in exchange for helping with the feline problem? Then you could have room, board and probably a salary. And hmm, I helped Gabit a time or two," she says vaguely about hunting felines. Jethaniel. She knows that name and thus she brightens. Nono, it's not from gossip regarding a blonde or anything like that. "You're the one who fixed the hatching sands." Total awe! "A heater." Said a touch flatly. As if, why would she need one of those? Now she's floundering a bit. "I, ah, usually light a fire in the hearth." It's what she did at Mire all her life, you see.

"Sounds local enough to me." Gorrin replies to Jethaniel. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, then." THe mention of fixing the hatching sands draws a raised eyebrow. "An impressive feat. No doubt the weyrfolk must be very grateful for such a project." He smiles ruefully at Miah's comment about the tavern not letting him sleep there, then mulls over her suggestion. "I am not normally one to impose… but in this cold I suppose I have little choice." With his meal finished, he gets to his feet. "I should see if arrangements can be made before the hour grows too late. It was a pleasure meeting you both. Perhaps we'll run into each other again some time." Drawing his jacket close, he makes his way to the exit.

Ah, the hatching sands. Jethaniel frowns slightly at Miah's mention of them, and the frown deepens as Gorrin praises the feat. "They should not have malfunctioned in the first place. It was a careless error. I should have caught it." He looks away, staring at his mug for a moment and then taking a slow sip. The mug is carefully set back in the spot where it was, and he nods to Gorrin's farewell without speaking before looking back up to Miah. "Functional," he tells her on the matter of lighting fires. "Not entirely efficient, but effective. The primary advantage of a heater is that it's less limited in position than a hearth."

"Likewise," Miah says with a gentle inclination of her head to Gorrin as he heads out. Perhaps this isn't the best thing to say - but better to a techcrafter than a masterhealer after a botched surgery, right? "Hey, accidents happen. You fixed it. And I heard," she sips her klah to gather her thoughts, "that you sorted through a mess of patchworked bypasses that had been left for turns and turns and now they're working better than they ever did." Which thought does give her some disquiet because here she is, using the non-tech approach in her home. She lowers her voice, flickering a look to make sure Catallian isn't within hearing range and admits, "Electricity sorta scares me."

"This is true," acknowledges Jethaniel. "There are less likely to be problems in the future." His frown continues, but in a rather reduced state. "And it's more efficient." Which is, if not its own reward, at least well correlated to rewards. He leans a little closer to catch those quiet words, and nods slightly. "It can be dangerous," the techcrafter admits. "However, properly handled, it's no more dangerous than, say… a fire. Possibly less so. It depends on exactly how you're using each."

"Ah yes, but!" Miah raises a forefinger to counter, "If a lightning bolt goes crack-boom, my fireplace won't explode sparks. And go out. And scare me. Or shock me if I touch an exposed wire and go zing! up to my armpit. And scare me. I understand how to use fire. Those hotplate things ruin my food all the time; I've stopped using those." Nosewrinkle. "I'm much better at old-fashioned things like roasting over the coals. And…" here she is genuinely curious, "have you ever noticed that sometimes efficiency doesn't have the same… ambiance as the old ways? Unless you can make those heating units flicker and cast a soft glow,scent a room with the tang of woodsmoke and go snap-crackle and pop occasionally? Though I think I'd be nervous if an electric thing went crackle-pop." In the woods she's fearless, but put her in civilization and she's… like this. Go figure.

Jethaniel nods his head in acknowledgement. "However," he says, "An electric heater will be unaffected by a gust of wind or spout of rain down the chimney." His tone is uncontentious, and in fact, he's smiling slightly. "Nor will it fill your room with smoke." His head tilts slightly, and he nods again. "Oh, of course it doesn't have the same ambiance," he says. "More efficient is not always better." What? Stop the presses, a techcrafter is admitting technology is not always the answer! "As I see it, the goal of technology is to allow us to make time for the things important to us. If you enjoy having a fire, by all means, have yourself a fire." He waves a hand permissively. "Everyone has different things they find important. For some, the convenience of an electric heater is more desirable than the ambiance of a fire." He pauses a moment, then chuckles slightly. "Or they have an unfortunate tendency to forget the fire until it's gone down to coals."

Despite Miah's lack of understanding - heck, let's call it what it is: fear - of electricity she is enjoying this conversation. She smirks at the techcrafter over her mug when she says, "Efficient would be those heaters working for poor frozen Gorrin living out in the bush in wintertime." Okay, now she's just being silly and he does have a point - several even. "Fire-tending for me is habit. I do it on automatic. Technology is a good thing, but sometimes I wonder if folks might get too dependant on it and forget to do for themselves." She really seems to want to know though, "Could you make one that works without being plugged in? Or one that would mimic a real fire?" He's Jethaniel! The whispers around the Weyr are he is a wizard and electricity bows to him. It's a winter evening, dark windy and cold. The tavern is crowded and Jethaniel and Miah are sitting at the bar talking.

Jethaniel holds up a finger of denial. "Efficient," he argues, "Would be packing him into the caverns for the winter so that one heater could warm multiple people. Why, if you get enough people in there, body heat will provide sufficient warmth and you require neither heaters nor fires. It's the same principle as the stables." Why, yes, he is suggesting that packing people in like runners would be efficient. Aren't you glad he doesn't see efficiency as paramount? As for actually warming the poor hunter… "There might be some alternatives for that, actually. Either solar panels, or a hand-cranked system… ah, but relying on the sun is chancy this time of year." He hmmms, tapping his fingers against the bar briefly as he considers. No question is too silly, apparently! "Oh, well, I could incorporate a battery into the design, but…" he frowns. "You'd need a large one to run it for any significant amount of time, and they're rather unpleasant things." Jethaniel shakes his head, dismissing that thought. "As for mimicking a fire… yes and no. It's rather like the difference between a painting and a view, or a recording and a concert. One can copy the parts, but not replace the whole." He smiles slightly. "That memory of old ways may be put to the test, if there's another ice storm this winter, but I hope not."

And in from the cold arrives another Xanadu..ian face. Two of them, actually. One of which was present an evening not too long ago. ka-el enters the tavern in front of a dark haired fellow of elder turns. About twenty two or so, if one were to guess, and if one were learned at deciphering the various knots, a journeyman of sorts. The crowded look of the place has polar opposite effects on both. The elder of the two, grinning with obvious glee, while Kale himself looks ready to flee. Which he might, if it weren't for the presence behind him. He's unknowingly stopped in his tracks but is prodded on with a finger to the small of his back. Swallowing back a grumble, he moves further in, seeking an empty table that he hopes he won't fin- "Right there," urges the journeyman, pointing to a tavern table just cleared. Lovely. With a vague grimace, Kale heads that way, and upon reaching it, clambers upon it to stand upon the tabletop.
BANGBANGBANG! This is the sound of a fist being brought to the wood of a table very heavily. "HEAR YE PATRONS OF THE WANDERIN' WHERRY!" hollers the journeyman, hoping to be heard by more than just a few as he cups his hands around his mouth and turns to project his voice hither and yon. "May your eyes be brought to your own apprentice Kale, for just a moment I promise or until you lot are done with him, who has writ some heartfelt words for just your ears!"

At least Jethaniel didn't suggest packing people into the stables? The runners probably would not be very happy about that. Hiding her smile behind her mug, Miah chimes in on the inefficiency of both solar panels and hand-cranking, "Especially at night!" She can tend a fire on auto-pilot, cranking, not so much. Her klah is finished, the crowd… is not. They're just getting warmed up. Or loosened up. Or is that both? Whichever, they're getting noisier and Miah is feeling the need to escape. She lowers her mug, replacing it on the counter with a thunk that surely no one could hear if they tried. "There's nothing quite like the real thing," she says of a fake fireplace. I wouldn't want one, but there's folks out there who probably wou-" That's as far as she gets when the tabletop apprentice is spotted and her mouth drops open. "Shards, he looks a little young to be drunk." That's her Mire hold accent and mentality kicking in folks.

Warmth can loosen things, after all. Jethaniel nods to Miah. "True enough. I believe I'm left simply recommending an extra blanket," he says with a smile, then nods again, consideringly, before his attention is grabbed by other considerations entirely. Like, for instance, Kale. "He's not my apprentice," murmurs the techcrafter, blinking at the teen a few times. "…though he does look familiar." He stares for a moment. "Ah! Yes! We discussed spoken word performance!" Jethaniel smiles widely, looking appreciative as he leans back and raises his mug to his lips, preparing to listen.

Idrissa is making her way on into the tavern with a yawn escaping her. She is freezing, and this may not be seen while she is stomping her snow covered boots upon the ground and working on brushing off some snow from her clothing in the process. She soon pulls off her gloves and looks at her fingers thinking she may lose them! Her coat is undone and hung up before she pockets the gloves and moves off towards the bar about to get a drink until something catches her attention and she blinks while peering at a table. Kale… She just eyes him a few moment. "Kale?…" Oh boy!

Oh the most withered of withering looks is given to that journeyman (when his back is turned, of course) and soon after turns Kale's eyes turn to some random bottle of something amber behind the bar as a hand delves into his pocket to retrieve a rolled sheet of paper. Ugh, did the volume just decrease by a few notches? He dares a glance to the crowd of folk and is unfortunately met with a handful of eyes in his direction, some of which are undeniably familiar. He unrolls that paper and holds it up and begins to read, happily focused on his scribbled words and not at the attention he'd rather not be receiving. "Honored patrons o-"
"LOUDER, apprentice! The fine men in the back can't hear ya mumblin' so. You're such a man, aren't you? Use your man's voice!" interrupts the journeyman, who obviously is wanting to milk this moment of his own creation for all it's worth. Ah, it's good to have minions!
Kale begins again in a voice somewhat more amplified. "Honored patrons of the Wanderin' Wherry. I am Kale Crestwood of Black Rock hold, sixth born of son of Khelid Crestwood, who would be appalled by the behavior of his youngest son." There he pauses, knowing this to be an utmost lie and a laughable one at that, but to laugh..oh, isn't he in enough trouble already? He presses on. "And my mother would die of shame if my antics were to be heard at home, and I pray none of you write to her of this moment once it's done, for I have disgraced myself enough and wish not to bring the same upon my family. This is my public apology to the Weyr that has graciously taken me in to educate me in the art of smithing since my thirteenth turn. To the people who have housed me, fed me, and protected me for the turns that I have called Xanadu my home, I humbly apologize." Oh, worry not drunken patrons, he is not done!

One pair of eyes watching him are the wide grey eyes of Miah, clearly surprised by the scene over at the table. She'd nod a hello to Idrissa and reply to Jethaniel but at the moment all she can do is gawp at the apprentice on the table and listen. How fortuitous his entrance and table-speech! Since they've hashed out everything from portable heaters and blankets, the next step in the convo with Jethaniel regarding the efficiency of keeping warm would be body heat. And he's saved them from that. "I wouldn't admit to it, either," she says in an aside to Jethaniel without taking her eyes off of Kale. Smithcrafter - Techcrafter same difference, right?

Thea meanders into the Wanderin' Wherry Tavern, from the Clearing.

Admittedly, combining body heat is highly efficient, as well as an experience full of ambiance. It's enjoyed by afficionados of modern technology and the old ways alike! It- is not to be a topic of conversation today, for their attention has instead been taken up by Kale. Jethaniel's appreciation gives way to mild confusion. "…rather artistic for a first attempt," he murmurs, brow wrinkling, and then takes another sip. His head is shaken at Miah's comment. "If he was techcraft, we'd have given him a microphone." He continues to be one of the sets of eyes watching this public performance apology, head tilted to the side as he tries to give the work a deeper consideration. "Perhaps it's postmodern?"
Idrissa has partially disconnected.

After his venture out to try to find the one of the weyrwomen, Gorrin returns to the tavern. One might judge from his sullen expression that he did not achieve any success. Or perhaps he always looks like that when he's been out in the cold, snowy evening. He brushes some snow from his shoulders at the entrance, and seems about ready to head to reclaim his old seat when he notices the fellow standing on a table. Well, that certainly warrants pausing and having a listen.
Idrissa is watching Kale, seeming rather unsure what to do or say at the moment while she slowly inches over to a seat at the bar. A quick order of hot cider is placed before her attention is settled upon Kale onces more. What is he up too? Her gaze turns to any that may look her way an a soft smile and nod is offered back.
"And WHY?? Apprentice, do these FINE people of our FINE weyr have the pleasure of this well-versed apology??" bellows the journeyman, who probably should consider a career in theater…
That sneak knew he was getting to that part, but Kale cannot spare any more contemptuous looks as now he has the attention of..well, far too many. He continues. "A previous night this sevenday, while thought and expected by my trusting journeymen to be in bed readying myself for my exam and practices the next work day, I instead felt the need to extract myself from much needed and required rest and bring myself here. Here, to a tavern built for men of honor and work. Men and women who toil through the day to provide for our Weyr and holds beyond with services and good and back breaking labor, most of which go wrongfully unappreciated. I, mistakenly, thought myself to be of the same station of those who have earned such a privilege of a nightcap in this renowned establishment. I mistook my sixteen turns for adulthood, forgetting that my knot of apprenticeship does not allow me the same honors of those of my same age." Hm. Are people still listening? He dares a glance up, hoping to find a roomful of disinterested faces who wish he'd just shut up so they could go on with their talk and chatter without the voice of a tabletop apprentice demanding a portion of their attention. But, no. What he sees are even more eyes on him than before! And the eyes of Idrissa! And isn't that that Techcrafter he helped out? And..ugh. Why couldn't this be one of those slow, empty tavern nights, like the night in question? Ahm. "And so, I wholeheartedly apologize to my journeymen, to the masters of my craft, to Telgar, to the barkeep for wasting a superior mug of ale, and most of all, to the people of Xanadu, who expect behavior far superior than what was shown."

Oh indeed! Highly efficient but an uncomfortable topic for some people - probably for Miah being the sort of private person she is. Instead she is sidetracked along with everyone else watching Kale. "A mic-" That does it! She sniggers. Poor Kale. She's not laughing at him, but rather the persistent efficiency of Jethaniel's. "You are hilarious," she tells him in a near whisper. And with that she slips out - here's for one less pair of eyes watching you, Kale. She'll remember you now though.

Well now she's found, Gorrin. The Weyrwoman enters the tavern right after him - or right before him - maybe someone told her he was looking for her? And so it is that Thea has been here for the entirety of Kale's table-speech, leaning against the doorframe because, you know, can't interrupt that.

Gorrin just lingers by the entrance, somewhat dumbfounded, watching this entire epic speech. He looks about to ask something of Miah as she passes by, but he misses the opportunity. With that chance gone, he instead edges through the crowd towards Jethaniel, the only other halfway sensible person in this tavern whose acquaintance he has made previously. "Is this sort of thing… common around here?" He asks, somewhat astonished. Immediately afterwards, he spies the entrance of the Weyrwoman. "Of all the… excuse me." His apology is given before he can receive an answer. Then, he's headed in Thea's direction. "Excuse me, Weyrwoman? Might I have a moment of your time?"

Or perhaps - just perhaps - this isn't performance art after all. Jethaniel sighs with disappointment, only to blink in perplexity as Miah expresses her amusement. He turns to look at her, distracted from, oh, a good half-sentence or so of Kale's apology as his eyes track her to the door. Hilarious? But he was only stating simple facts! He shakes his head slowly, and then his gaze settles on Thea near the door Miah just left through. He gives the weyrwoman a slight nod, then his gaze tracks back toward Kale. Gorrin's question gets a shrug of his shoulders. "A bit unusual, I suppose. Most apologies in the tavern are more drunken. You can tell by the degree of slurring."

And now, he's done! Kale gives a last look at the crowd that's thinning by at least one, and promptly flushes in the face, beet red. That's not the weyrwoman over there by the door, right? Right? Because how cruel would it be that the rare time her important and busy schedule clears up for a moment of freedom in a tavern falls upon the same instance that he is to deliver his punishment and be deemed a child in front of everyone! His mind is stuttering, and he nearly misses the insistent poking to his leg. The aren't you forgetting something?? poke. "Oh…uh, r-right. Uh." Papershuffle! "To show the sincerity of my apology, I offer now," a grimace, "one task to be given to all in attendance today that shall be fulfilled within a month. From cleaning to fixing to watching your children, I am at your service," he finishes in a rush, happy to hop down from that tabletop, after which is he given paper and a writing utensil by that oh so ready journeyman to jot down the tasks assigned to him. Again .. why couldn't have been one of those empty days?
Thea gets that sort of request all the time. If she only had a moment to actually give everyone who asked of her time! Or if it really only took but a moment when in reality things usually take many more. And yet, she's relaxed and accommodating when Gorrin asks, nodding and giving him a slight smile even while holding up a hand to forestall him until Kale is finished. She's paying attention to his speech after he took the trouble to write and recite. She just tsks at the end, but says nothing. Should Kale's journeyman approach her, no doubt she'll think of something for that list. Now, then. "Yes?" prompts the Weyroman to Gorrin.

Gorrin gives Jethaniel a somewhat amused smirk before his attention is fully upon the weyrwoman. He clears his throat. "Ma'am, I'll keep this brief to avoid taking up much of your time. I understand you have a feline problem at this weyr. I spoke just yesterday to an apprentice healer about incidents of injury to your people due to feline attack. I am an experienced feline hunter. I'm prepared to offer my services in culling their population here in exchange for living quarters for the duration of winter. It is simply too cold to camp outdoors in this weather. Would that be agreeable?"

There are plenty of people ready to give Kale tasks, because hey- free labor! What's not to enjoy? He picks up a collection, everything from 'move the woodpile' to, yes, 'watch my children'. Kale will definitely be busy this month. When the apprentice gets close enough to Jethaniel, the techcrafter gestures him closer. He sets down his mug and reaches for the pad and implement. Scritchscratch, and he hands it back. 'Music Appreciation' is now on The List. Jethaniel turns back to the bar and picks up his mug once more.
And that journeyman will most assuredly get wind that the weyrwoman is here and pick up an offer from her if Kale doesn't get there in time. He is scouring one side of the room, while Kale is being bombarded by the other. Likely, this will cause a bit of doubling, but punishment isn't supposed to be enjoyable, is it? Poor Kale. That once empty list sure is getting lengthy, and the latest addition of 'Music Appreciation' earns a brow quirk. He glances at Jeth. Hey…hey, he remembers something about him and music! Maybe that will be .. fun? He won't get his hopes up and gives a "Thank you, sir" as he has the others, heading towards Gorrin and (gasp, be still my heart!) Thea.

AT this Weyr?! Cue Thea's eye-darty look. There ARE too many cats wandering around here unsupervised, having kittens and killing songbirds- Skid-stop the Weyrwoman's brain! "Wild felines. Right." She lifts her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose, eyes squinch shut. It's been one of those days - her focus is shot. Opening them once more, she stares at Gorrin with ice green eyes that are friendly regardless of their color. "How is it we get a feline hunter who's name rhymes with one of my juniors? You know I'm going to get the two of you mixed up, right?" How does she know his name? Oh, she has her ways! "Absolutely! You see Ocelara about getting a cot in the resident's dorm and she'll set you up with sheets, blankets and pillows. You eat free and tomorrow come see me and we'll discuss your wages." And here comes Kale - just in time. He gets a meltingly sweet smile - beware those! "You may put 'fix Thea's drawers' on your list." And no, not those kind of drawers! He'll find the ones in her office, the ones that creak and stick. He's smithcraft, this is right up his alley. Right?

Gorrin seems somewhat confused himself as to how exactly the weyrwoman knows his name. He just chalks it up to her superior management skills and makes his way back to the bar. "Well. That went better than I expected." He says to Jethaniel. "I suppose I'll be settled here for a while." He tries to catch the attention of the bartender again, flagging him down for another brew.

Jethaniel simply nods to Kale, his expression rather on the deadpan side. So, either he's being kind to a misbehaving smithcraft apprentice out of some inexplicable impulse, or else that's code for something unpleasant. The world may never know. Well, except for Jethaniel, who already knows, and Kale, who will know when he shows up to take care of that particular task, as well as anyone who either of them tells at such a time as they know it. Except for that, though, the world will remain lacking in knowledge and Jethaniel will remain enjoying his beer. He glances at Gorrin as the hunter returns, and nods slightly. "Welcome to Xanadu."

With a smile like that, Thea could likely ask Kale to watch her twins, do the entire family's laundry, muck the stables, wash her dragon, muck HER weyr, and eat dirt and only get an eager grin and nod in return. He has to fix her what now? Oh multiple meaning words, curse you! Right.. not those kind of drawers! "Right! Er, I mean…yes. Uh, Yes'm. Yes ma'am. I'll get on that.." Luckily somewhere within his bumbling response, she gets busy with weyrwomany type things and his tongue-tied answer is cut short before it gets too much worse. Phew. He eyes his list with tasks that range from 'clean my oven' to 'wash my Wher'. Luckily, it's about time for the smithcrafters to go and with the apprentice back in tow, the Journeyman bows. "A good thanks to you all! Your service will be given within a month's time. If it isn't, visit the forge to make complaint!" And with that, the two head out.

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