About the Craft


A Harper's Life


Events in the Harperhall


Meet the Harpers


In the Vaults

Harper Conclave

April 2002


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Harper Great Hall

It is a summer afternoon.  Reeba, Jueann, Renrow, Mynd, Cerran, Mimi, Liesana, Delilah, and Kita are here.


The Masterharper seems distracted from the gathering, even ignoring the wine that eventually arrives in an elegant crystal decanter on a silver tray that also holds a matching goblet.


Kita blinks- surprise plainly written all over her face.  Then the expression is swapped for a look of utter relief, and she stands up and takes her jacket with her.  "Thank you, Master Jueann.  I would definitely be more comfortable.  I just didn't want to be presumptuous..." The brownrider almost just about sprints to the Master's table, eager to get away from some of the immature stupidity of the younger apprentices.


Delilah flashes an amused glance at the girl next to her, along with a smile, "It is something." She agrees. "More than you usually see all in one place anyway." The majority of her attention though, seems focused on just looking around the room, watching everyone.


Liesana gives Renrow a little wave, before someone sits down in one of the free seats to either side of her.  Wince.  "Ah, so you got promoted at last, Adrois?"  she drawls dryly.  A suavely worded affirmative, and she nods, smiles thinly, and concentrates on her glass of wine.


Cerran waves and smiles to Renrow, but is a little confused by his remark.  He shrugs it of and sits down with the other apprentices, waving to those he knows and shaking the hands of those he doesn't.  He begins conversing with a rather cute girl sitting across from him.  He puts on the charm, and is all smiles.


Jueann sits down, shaking her head.  She gives the rider a smile, ignoring the glare from Seamus' green eyes.  She tries not to look around for her son.  She nods to a couple of familiar faces, trying to digest the information she heard in the meeting.


Caramak's brow creases slightly as he settles into a seat near to Oriana.  His mellow tone lowers to something more quiet as he inquires "Are you quite well, Oriana?"  Teraille also observes, taking a glass of wine for herself and sipping at it thoughtfully.


Niara slips into the room, a look of relief as she realizes that /maybe/ her tardiness won't be noticed.  There are just /some/ things she'd rather not have to explain.  She slips into the chair Liesana had pointed out to her earlier at the student table.


Mynd almost fidgets, but remains still in his seat, very much watching those entering the hall, grinning and waving at those he knows.


At one of the apprentice tables, a young girl of about ten turns sits perfectly straight, eyes forward as she politely tries to be perfect in every way.  Her hands are folded neatly above her slate, which has the stylus perfectly positioned beside it.  Shards, even her hair is perfectly braided.  A cheeky boy next to her frowns in puzzlement at her bizarre fixation, and with a grin nudges her stylus so it is just slightly crooked.  The girl glares at him, and straightens it.  So he bumps it again.  A few choice words are said to him from the girl, and no doubt an argument may start shortly.


Renrow lifts his hand in a formal greeting as he passes by the Masters' table, actually receiving grins from a large number of them with return greetings. He thinks of pausing to say a few more words to a couple specific ones he's been talking with lately, but decides against it, continuing towards the Senior Journeyman's table. Liesana is spotted, although so are the taken seats - thankfully, there's an open one only a couple away from her. Next to Adrios."


The girl looks over at Cerran and smiles.  She reacts positively to his conversation, and soon the two are chatting away.


Oriana smiles wanly at Caramak and gives him a half shrug. "It's just a symptom of aging, I suppose," she tries to jest, but the color of her usually rosy cheeks tells of an unwell woman. "How are you and Teraille getting along. I don't see people as often as I should, it seems."


Kita sits ramrod upright- she looks somewhat uncomfortable around these high ranking individuals, and her gaze slips across to those Masters who may not approve.  In a hushed voice, she leans in to Jueann.  "Master...do you think it wise that I sit here with you? I feel as though not everyone is receptive to a rider at the Master's table."  From outside, a low draconic croon echoes through the hall.


Liesana spots Renrow inbound, and a wicked light suddenly appears in her eyes as she surveys the seating arrangements.  Giving the tall, dark, handsome and /irritating/ Adrois her best inviting smile, she notes sweetly "Oh! I seem to have left a rather important scroll over there by the entry way.  Do you think..."  She trails off 'demurely', picking up again at Adrois' hopeful encouragement. "Do you think you could fetch it for me?"  With a dapper bow, and an unsought kiss for her hand, he lopes off to retrieve it.  Leaving his seat free again.  Hurriedly, she beckons to Renrow.


The drudges and kitchen staff enter with the bowls  and platters of food. They start serving the tables.  Master Jueann smiles at the rider.  "You protect and serve Pern, Kita.  I know you didn't finish your training with us, but you were promoted to a higher calling.  And we honor you but having you sit with us."  A master beside her, mutters, "Well said."  which causes Jueann to blush.


Oriana hears Kita's question and chuckles melodically as she leans over to reassure the Rider. "We are honored, Rider Kita. Be at ease."


The 'perfect' girl is no longer looking so 'perfect' as anger reddens her face.  The boy is laughing now, and is holding her slate high above his head as she tries to jump and grab it off him.  Others around her are laughing too, but their laughter is quickly cut off as she gives the boy a light fist to the mouth.  He drops the slate in surprise and grabs at his jaw whilst the girl sits back in exactly the same position she was, satisfaction written all over her face.  Don't think anyone will tease her anymore...


"We're doing well, Oriana"  supplies Teraille smoothly, although her green eyes look dark and concerned.  "The Istan climate is most agreeable.  You should visit us some time..."  Another sip of her wine is taken, and she settles into her seat, doing her best to look relaxed.


Mynd smiles brightly as food starts to appear, the journeyman settling himself a bit easier. Well, food's always good, isn't it? Certainly. And at least eating might calm the squabbling coming from the apprentices.. He looks that way, frowning faintly at the behavior.


Kita visibly relaxes under the various Master's reassurance, and she too blushes at the Master beside Jueann's comment.  She glances over to Oriana and nods gratefully, sitting back in her chair.  "Then it is my honor to sit with you as well," she comments, and a dragon's croon becomes a rather enthusiastic bugle.  Kita winces, and smiles apologetically at the noise.


Cerran looks continuously into the eyes of the girl he is talking to, very interested in her.  He, of course, is trying to impress her.  Such things can be heard as "...performing at High Reaches...playing in the 'Mug...posted at Grinstead...laxative brownies..." It goes on and on.  That is, of course, until the food arrives.  He loses al interest in everything around but those platters coming in, as he licks his lips in anticipation.  The girl, meanwhile, frowns and HMPH!s, then moves to another seat.  Cerran shrugs, and looks over at the girl who just hit that boy, chuckling.


As the seat is pulled out, Renrow's ears have been picking up the tones in the voices of Liesana and Adrois, his eyes at their corners and watching in that moment before he sits - which, he must stop from doing and step back as Adrois bounds away, leaving the laughter free to bubble out of Ren as he's beckoned and quickly sits in the seat. "/So/ good t'see you again, Lies. He-" He motions with his head backwards, "-looked familiar...but, just barely..." He smirks, lifting his right brow, "Have we picked up another heart, Lies, or was /that/ -actually- Adrois??"


Jueann chuckles softly and actually is glad to be sitting by someone from Ista.  It is well known that she hates crowds and so many people in one room makes her nervous.  She tries very hard to ignore Seamus but the glaring is getting on her nervous and she pushes away her plate.

Small portions of the excellently prepared food are delicately placed on the Masterharper's plate and an attending journeyman makes sure her wine glass is full, even if she is still not paying it much attention. "I might just do that soon," she smiles at Master Teraille and continues in a weakened tone, "It might give me back some of my lost energy."


Somehow, impossibly, Liesana's ears catch the phrase 'laxative brownies', and she turns to skewer Cerran with a suitably rankish glare.  She'll never actually /admit/ that she thought it was a good prank.  Nope.  She turns back to Renrow, then, giving him a wry smile as she skewers a bit of roast herdbeast, and pops it in her mouth.  Chewing, she nods.  "Alas it is.  I guess they /didn't/ boot him out for getting that Healer girl pregnant.  But how /are/ you?"  she asks.  "And LL, and Rowan..." 


Caramak nods slightly to the MasterHarper, taking a sip of red wine before allowing his plate to be filled.  "Do, please, Oriana.  The Craft is yours, and you are the Craft's, therefore we must have you as well as you can be."


Mynd beams happily at another journeyman as he starts to eat, quietly talking with the girl. He blinks a bit at the conversation, some color flushing into his cheeks briefly before quickly shaking his head. "Nono..it's not like /that/.." Whatever /could/ he be talking about? Whatever it is, his fellow journeyman is near rolling with laughter. Oh well..


Oriana seems to notice her wine for the first time, but not the food in front of her, as she raises the goblet to her lips with a shaky hand. "You're just afraid you'll have to take on my duties," she tries to tease the Masters, light eyes dancing over the rim of her glass.


Adrois returns with the scroll in hand and a roguish smile touches his lips as he spots the change in seating arrangements.  Handing over the rolled parchment, he bows mockingly over Liesana's hand a moment.  "Still the trickster, I see, my dear lady?  And you, sir.  As bad an influence as ever."  he notes to Renrow with a slight wink, before taking a seat.  On the other side of Liesana.  Heh heh heh.


Renrow sighs lightly, his lips faintly twisted to the side again, "Me? I've been /extremely/ busy lately." He nods in thanks as his wine-glass is filled, although the food now on his plate still goes unnoticed, "Very. I did happen to get a few more songs written, though, and fixed a large mix-up in a group of ballads that'd been rather /un/sorted. And, taking care of Laurenlee, and Rowen. Rowen thankfully isn't sick, but I'm afraid Laurenlee's been feeling ill lately. S'why she couldn't make it tonight." Adrois grabs his attention, and he smirks heavily, lifting his wine glass towards him and jesting back before taking a drink, "Don't you know it." Although now, the chuckle that results has quite a bit of reason behind it - things have Changed.


Kita sits with an amused smile on her face as she listens to the words of the Masters and thus learns things about them she never knew.  That's the kind of stuff they keep from apprentices.  Suddenly her expression changes and she appears to be listening to something else.  Urgency flares in her eyes and she quickly turns to Jueann.  "Master, please forgive me, but I believe I must leave.  Some urgent business has arisen that I must attend to."  Kita nods likewise down the table to indicate and acknowledge the rest of the Masters.  She's itching to go, but won't move until she has permission.  In a sense.


Teraille laughs a little at the sally, but it doesn't reach her eyes. "Afraid?  Of course we are.  You've always done the work of about three people, and we are only two." She takes a sip of her own wine, before leaning a little to murmur something to Caramak.


Cerran erks at Liesana's glare, then grins.  However, food is now placed in front of him and he begins to dig in.  He spears a piece of roast herdbeast, consuming it rather quickly.  He's pretty hungry as he has been skipping meals all day in preparation for this feast.  He gets rather loud during the whole business, and the faces of the apprentices around him are far from amused.  He looks up and notices them looking at him.  He smiles embarrassed, then begins again, slowly and quietly this time.  He looks up, and gives a wide wave to Kedei.  "Hey Kedei!  Over here!  Saved ya a seat!"  He pats the chair next to him.  Saved... the occupant left upon seeing Cerran eat... whatever, same difference.


As more and more dishes are brought out of the kitchen, the hub bub grows louder.  Jueann smiles at the Rider and nods, "Ohhh it's alright, give your dragon my regards. And don't' be such a stranger around the Hall just because you ride a dragon." She nods to the rider.


Mimi wrinkles her nose up as snobby-girl finally gives Mimi a 'look' and turns away. Oh forget the senior apprentices. She stands up with a huff and goes to plop down with the junior appies, across from Cerran.  "Hello, Cerran," she greets him as she daintily begins to fork some food onto her plate. Yum.


Kita smiles gratefully and stands.  "I won't.  Thank you Master Jueann.  I will be around at the Hall sometime soon."  Kita bows to the Master's table and sprints out of the Hall, trying to put on her riding jacket as she runs.


Kedei is late. Very late. Dinner has already been served, and here he comes in, clothing amuck and hair mussled. "Sorry!" he hiss whispers to the few harpers he passes. Reasons for his lateness can be expressed later, because for now, he's starving! Seeing Cerran's wave, he heads in that direction and takes the proffered seat. "Thanks," he greets the other lad, before unwrapping his napkin, covering his lap with it, and digging into the food spread before him.


Cerran looks up as Mimi sits, a smile spreading across his face.  He sits back, finishing the mouthful of tubers, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.  "Well hello there, fair water-dancer.  How are you?"


Mynd sticks his tongue out briefly at the journeyman next to him, still grinning a bit. Oh well... he'll never stop being childish, more than likely, even if sometimes he can be quite adult. He blinks a bit, spying Kedei's abrupt... late...entrance, and smiles a bit, wiggling his fingers at him from his table.


Liesana blows Adrois an impish kiss, before noting "Would you have it any other way?" with a wink.  He laughs, and then leaves her to her fate in favour of chatting up the woman on the other side of him.  Who appears much more receptive to his blandishments.  She nods to Renrow.  "Well, busy is good.  Keeps the dust off you and doesn't leave you time to ponder your troubles.  Between 'Mak placing me as a legal advisor, girls of six running away to turn up on my doorstep, and still working on teaching Smith brats and the occasional basic Law class, I have just enough time to sleep."


Mimi waves to Kedei before she begins to poke at her food. "I'm good. Bratty senior apprentice girl...Ugh. Oh well. You guys are more fun, anyways." She rolls her eyes and shakes her head, shooting a less-than-nice glance back in the other girl's direction before placing a pleasant smile on her face and shoveling some food into her mouth.


The tall, dark-skinned harper apprentice has the grace to look to ashamed for his tardiness. As Kedei butters a roll, and then stuffs nearly the whole thing into his mouth, he gestures to Cerran to bring him up to speed on all that he's missed so far. "Anything interesting happen?" he then asks, crumbs flying from his mouth before being wiped away with the sleeve of his shirt. Mimi gets a wide grin, and Kedei thanks her for the compliment - simple as it is. "Well, you're pretty fun yourself," he replies.


Delilah is good and behind in all accounts, but she does flash Mimi her typical, friendly smile as the senior apprentice joins their table. A few fingers are twiddle-waved at Kedei as he enters, and he gets a similar smile from the quiet blonde, who seems otherwise intent on pondering the tabletop before her.


Cerran nods at Kedei.  "Well, you missed a fight. Sorta... see that girl over there?"  He gestures with his head toward the one sitting all straight, holding a slate.  "The prudish one, kinda all stuck up looking?  She hit that guy holding his chin."


Renrow nods as he smiles towards Liesana, "Aye, you're right - and in the same respects, all of your lack-of-free-time must have it's upsides as well, I guess. -It's too bad it also means we have no time for finding those trips t'catch each other once in awhile, though. Heheh." Eyes return to his food, almost as if he's about to begin, but he instead takes another sip of wine, lightly sighing afterwards, his brows slightly pulled down as he mutters quietly, "...shardit. Ah really wish she could've made this."


Mimi beams at Kedei and carefully picks up another forkful of tuber to pop into her mouth. A stare is directed towards Cerran and she glances over to the perfect girl and smirks with a comment, "Well, good for /her/."


Kedei blinks at this news. And here he thought that meetings of this sort were boring! Of course, a near fight still couldn't compare to finding firelizard eggs - what Ked himself was doing when journeyman Topnote came looking for him. He had forgotten all about the conclave, and this is why he's now here with clothing and hair in disarray. "Cool!" he then exclaims, a little louder than is proper. Again with the ashamed look, but it's quickly hidden around another mouthful of food.


Mynd blinks a bit after munching on a bit of herdbeast, gaze spotting...Niara. A bit of a giggle, and he whispers to the journeyman next to him, who grins and scoots her chair over a little, the two pulling another chair in between. He promptly grins, waving at the younger girl. "Niara!" After all, he /is/ Liesana's ex-mentee.


Renrow tips his head far back, looking up in awe once again as he distracts himself, "OH wow. Ah've forgotten how incredibly /breath-taking/ the architecture and /PAINTINGS/ are over here. I've only had th'opportunity of actually being /here/ two, maybe three, times before - and turns ago."


Oriana leans back in her chair, goblet between her hands and watches the harpers as they dine, taking in the smallest of interchanged with the most blatant. After a few moments she leans forward again and stands, goblet still in her hand. Some turn and stop to give her their attention, others need the gentle nudge of her words. "Harpers!" she says simply and clearly and waits to get everyone's full attention.


Liesana chuckles at Renrow between pieces of her dinner.  "Stir up some sort of legal/political tangle up Keroon way, and /duty/ might take me there,"  she winks, before her features turn softer.  "I wish she were here too, Ren, but she'll make the next one, I'm sure.  There'll always be another Conclave,"  she notes, her good humor returning again in full force as Renrow's distracted.  "Nice staying focused there, boyo,"  she pokes good naturedly, before Oriana's call causes her to fall silent, and look up.


Niara blinks up, hearing her name wafting above the general din.  She scans the rooms, looking first to Liesana, but /her/ attention is obviously taken.  Another blink and she spies Mynd's rather goofy-looking attempt to get her attention.  Another glance at Liesana, a grin, and she hops off the chair and makes a mad dash across the room, neatly sidestepping a near collision with a tray laden drudge.  "'cuse me!" she calls over her shoulder as she slides into the indicated chair before the room falls silent.


The murmured conference between Caramak and Teraille stills as Oriana speaks, and both Masters pay her the courtesy of immediate, if relaxed attention.


Cerran chuckles at Kedei's response, then falls silent as the Master at the table stands.  He turns to give his full attention, glass in hand, leisurely sipping his juice.


Mynd isn't goofy. :P Hmpf. Oh well, he smiles happily as Niara decides to come, giving her a little bit of a pat on the head. Yay! Alright, so he likes small people. Like he adores Andria and Dona, as well. He blinks though at the call to attention, falling quiet as he looks towards Oriana.


Watching with a slight smile, Jueann notes that all voices grow more hushes.  The drudges quietly go about their duties, collecting dishes and setting out dessert.  Jueann raises her glass in salute to the Master of masters.


Renrow chuckles silently at Liesana's comment, quickly slipping in one of his ticklepokes to her side, "Oh I know, aaaas usual - gotta love it though." Now at a whisper as his eyes lift to Oriana, his lips barely moving as he finishes, "Comes in handy quite often, from escaping woes, and playing the unbiased mediator."


Her hand is a bit wobbly but Oriana raises her goblet to the room and its occupants and takes a sip. "That's to the largest gathering of harpers I've seen in many turns," she greets the large gathering, then pauses again as if to remind herself of what she had to say next. "It is with the greatest of pleasures that we can announce some promotions from the apprentices this evening," she pauses for effect.


Mimi wiggles her fingers at Cerran and quickly slips back to her respective table to welcome new seniro apprentices, of course. Must be there to pat them on the back and clap and such.


Stopping mid-sentence, Reeba turns from the two Journeyman lads she was addressing and rasies her glass towards Oriana.


Jueann nods to Oriana as she listens politely,  as she toys with her wine glass.  She tries not to look bored or impatient. Everything must be in order.


Teraille's eyes move out over the crowd of Istan apprentices with something like proud satisfaction as she raises her glass.  Then she glances to the Journeymen with another proud smile, some of them having mentees out there in the crowds.  Caramak follows Oriana's words with a nod here and there.


With only one quick glance at a small hide next to her plate, Oriana begins to speak again, occasionally leaning on the table's edge for support. "If the journeymen would please escort Apprentice Wollen, Apprentice Josophus, Apprentice Sheysha, and," she stops to chuckle, "Already Journeyman Mynd, to their new places..." she trails off and nods the journeymen to their pleasant duties.


Oriana wobbles enough to convince her she needs to sit, which she does without taking her eyes from the tables.


Cerran claps for those apprentices being promoted.


A tall Journeyman stands with a proud grin, his boyish face and lankiness seeming to be owned by perhaps a younger man, early twenties at most, but the forming wrinkles around his eyes and his thinning hair betrays a much older age. Journeyman Hanlow motions with his hand upwards and the two apprentices Wollen and Josophus quickly stand, Wollen nearly bursting at the seams with excitement and a grin that's /sure/ to be making his cheeks hurt. He walks towards the two, and escorts the pair over towards the Journeyman's table, bending down low to whisper congratulatory words into the pair's ears (which result in fits of barely-stifled giggles).


Adrois turns back to Liesana with another flash of that pearly white grin of his.  "Sheysha's my first mentee to walk. And Mynd yours?  Very nice work, my dear lady."  He offers her a hand up before making his way down towards the apprentices, stopping before Sheysha and sketching a manically debonair bow which reassures the suddenly nervous young violin specialist.  She gives a little laugh before rising to take his arm, and he whispers a proud and not the least theatrical "Well done, kiddo." to her, guiding her to her new seat.


Liesana allows herself to be assisted from her seat, before sailing over to Mynd with a rustle of her skirt.  Since he's already at the Journeyman's table, a guide is not required, so she improvises by taking his hand in a firm clasp and moving to draw him to his feet where she can give him a hug.  "See, you're so special I get to do this twice,"  she winks.  "Congratulations, you've earned it."


Niara kicks her feet slightly under her chair, a huge grin spreading across her face as she watches the interchange.


Mynd blinks a bit, blushing quite a bit. Well, he definitely hadn't expected this...in front of so many people. He grins though, quite happily hugging Liesana. Hugs are always good things. Yup! Laughing, he nods. "Thank you, Lies..." Couldn't have done it without the mentor-person. Nooope. Beam!


Oriana watches with a wistful grin, then looks right and left down the length of the Masters' table, looking at each in turn.


Renrow's eyes flicker around, scanning the faces of those at the Masters' table - although they all seem to be distracted, preoccupied with thoughts of their own, or a couple sharing politely whispered words. He glances back down to his food again, thoughtfully, but heaves another sigh, and finishes his wine as he spots a drudge making his rounds and refilling.


Liesana laughs, and finally lets Mynd go, to return to whatever obscurity in the crowd he seeks.  Niara is spotted, and given an amused 'How did /you/ get there?' smile, before the senior journeywoman returns to her seat to wait on the next words from the Master's table.


Mynd plops back down in his seat with a rather wide grin, sighing. Well now, that wasn't exactly expected, but definitely not unwelcome, even if it did put the harper to somewhat center stage for a brief moment. It's fine by him.


Oriana waits for the last bit of excitement to die down, finishing off the last of her wine in her goblet before she stands shakily again, tapping the glass with her knife for attention. "I have a few more words, if I might have your attention," she has lost any vestige of smile she had and sighs as she waits.


Her back is straightened and shoulders pressed out of their usual slouch as Oriana continues. "My health of late has been failing, as some have noticed," she nods to Caramak and Teraille then turns to the rest of the assemblage, "And as it has become more and more of a strain to perform the duties of Masterhaper, the healers have recommended that I step down from my position as your Craftmaster."


Caramak, momentarily distracted by the walking of the tables and a trace of nostalgic murmuring is suddenly intent once again.  He thoughtfully traces his jawline with one finger and his brow furrows in slight thought as a murmur from the Master's table begins.


Aife slips in the door as quietly, inconspicuously as possible--there's something important going on here, to call everyone to Fort like this, and she doesn't want to interrupt it.  Smiling a quick, apologetic greeting to the harper she nudges out of the way, she slips up to a spot where she can see what's going on.


Liesana, a close ear turned on the MasterHarper's words, gasps slightly and glances over to Renrow with a startled look. "Did you hear anything about this?"  she murmurs to Renrow in a low tone.


Mynd blinks a little bit in surprise at the sudden declaration, brows lifting.


Reeba blinks, clearly surprised at the turn events.  Sure, everyone new Oriana's health was poor but to step down?   She remains in her seat, quiet and concerned for the masterharper.


Renrow's mouth /drops/ open, and his eyes widen, his wine glass promptly being placed down onto the table - then scooped up for a quick drink before being replaced. He'd heard all of the gossip, all of the rumors of her health, and all of the rumors of /OTHER/ things going on. He's noticed all of the other details that've been happening too around the Craft - Liesana pulls his attention away from his thoughts, and he very slowly nods, still extremely taken aback by the whole reality of what's unfolding.


Jueann stands and clears her throat.  "Master Oriana, if I may.  I have...." she sighs, she really hates this.  She isn't good at speeches.  "Please Master.... I have proof... documental proof that you and the masters here at Fort have been part of a plot... A serious plot....by him..." She points to Coforn, who was pointed out to her earlier.


Cerran sits up straight, listening with intent and not really sure to think, say, or do.


Mimi eyes open wide and she stares at Oriana. Wha? How? But...Um... Gaze switches to Jueann. What's happening? How could Mimi not have snooped and found this out?


Oriana leans both of her hands on the table for support, leaning over to stare at Jueann as she croaks. "Are you saying I am part of a plot? To what end?"


Coforn, previously relaxed, even -smug-, blinks slowly. Pale, watery brown eyes shift from Oriana, his previous focus of attention, to travel up the finger extended at him to the face above. Visibly gathering himself, an -oozingly- insincere smile is turned on Jueann and the other Masters and Journeyman, as he stands as well. Straightening the fine clothing down over his (rather impressive) bulk, he lifts his head. "Were any less of a man, I would challenge you for such statements. The only plot is in your mind." My, my. Touchy, isn't he? "Master Oriana, pay her no heed." If all else fails, he'll try riding over poor Jueann by volume.


Teraille, the Law Master, soon pulls out of her haze of shock and begins following Jueann's words with a considering look, glancing about at various faces as bits of information make new connections.


Delilah's eyes widen significantly at the news, and even further as she hears Jueann's words, gaze flitting towards the master, then to Coforn, and back again, confusion and surprise mixing in her expression.


Plot?  What plot?  One of the perks of being small is that it's not too difficult for Aife to be unobtrusive about slipping a bit more forward, where she can get a better look at all the goings-on.


Niara merely stares wide-eyed, the tension in the room prompting her to sidle closer to Mynd.


Mynd blinks rapidly, very much staring at the masters table in shock. Plots? Oriana stepping down? Plots?! Oh my... He straightens in his seat a bit, glancing at Niara as the girl shifts closer to him.


From the back of the room, a very young apprentice tugs at the sleeve of his seat mate, an urgent "What's /happening/!?!?" sounding very loud in the hushed tension of the room.


The little blood in Oriana's face drains and she makes it to her seat only with the assistance of the people to either side of her. Wine is poured and held to her lips so she can sip.


Jueann sighs as she nods to the closed doors for the guards to enter.  "Master... please... As I said, here...." she hands over a roll of hides, "All signed and witnessed.  I have been in contact with the harper spies.  They supplied me with everything.  I... first noticed something wrong when all the reports to Ista came up missing...."


Suddenly a large shout is heard from the back, in the direction of the Foyer, and the sound of a yelled protest by another voice /far/ overpowers the sounds of the entire Craft that's present in the Great Hall turning their attention back in the direction of the shouting, the sounds of feet shuffling, murmurs increasing, plates nudged away from arms sliding as they turn. A group of guards are forcing four men into the room, shackled in chains, who appear to have been fighting earnestly to keep from being led into the room. Three of them are Harper Masters, and another appears to be a Healer Master. Two of the Harpers quickly gather their wits about them, standing tall but unable to keep their eyes from dropping to the ground. The Healer Master continues to struggle, with two of the guards now holding on to his arms as he twists and tries to use his weight to drop. The third Harper is stooped low, his head hung in shame.


The Masterharper slowly scans the offered hides, visibly shaken. Her head moves as she reads, brow furrowing as she looks up and directly at Coforn then Master Jueann. "What else do you know?"


Caramak nods, his eyes narrowing slightly and a feral quality slipping past his usual mellow demeanor as he watches the tableau unfold.  A firm eye is kept on Coforn, the Master ready to intervene should things turn to the physical.


All bluster now, Coforn looks around wildly, beady little eyes rolling as he looks for a friendly face. It doesn't help that the few friends he's made on the way up the ranks, he's later backstabbed to get higher. One, then another -- faces closest to him turn away, and he shifts slightly to turn and sniff proudly in the direction of Oriana and Jueann. "Forged! Signed and witness by greedy, grasping individuals, I'm sure! There is no way-- Surely you know how much I respect--" Grasping at straws that fly just as quickly away, he finally stammers, "In-inconceivable!" Arms fold over his chest, and the short, pudgy, balding man looks most uncomfortable at the entrance of faces he'll surely be quick to deny knowing.


Oriana might look frail on the outside but her inner strength starts to show as she becomes angry at the harm inflicted on her body. She eyes her goblet and plate suspiciously and stands again, looking a bit more like her old self. "What have you besides your own words to commend yourself, Coforn?" she asks, voice no longer as frail, the voice of one still in charge of her mind and craft.


Renrow's mouth drops open again as he extends his body and neck as high as he can in attempts to see to the back of the room, lifting himself partially out of his seat, and he stares in wide-eyed shock at the group of three /Harper Masters/, although the rank or craft of the fourth man is unknown yet, as he's stooped too far over for the knot to be visible to those in the back. Ren's attention returns to the Master's at the table, his eyes wide and extremely attentive, taking in every detail that he can spot as quickly as possible, that mental notebook of his scribbling away, overfilling with information.


Jueann hides almost behind Oriana.  Violence is something she's always avoided.  She sighs, "They aren't forged Master, as you can well see." She isn't a law master or even a performance harper.  "Master... What do I hope to gain with this?  you know I hate having so many eyes on me."


Liesana turns a look of professional as well as personal disgust on Coforn at his blustering, an expression reading 'Oh /please/.' on her face.  The legist has seen better defenses from Bitran gamblers.  And then focuses on Oriana and her words after inspecting the four prisoners.


Cerran is simply overwhelmed by all that he is witnessing.  He slowly, absently stands, an involuntary move as he tries to comprehend what is happening but also wishes to see everything that is happening.


Sioned walks in from the Harper Hall Foyer.


Now wait just a minute...at least one of those "grasping individuals" is an old pupil of Aife's and calling them nasty names just isn't nice.  She'll be quiet, though, and see how things unfold. 


Oriana nods at Master Jueann, giving her enough of a smile to let her know she's believed. "You are known to have integrity, at least, Jueann," she says then turns to face her fully, "But why wait until now to bring this out?" she asks, suspicion starting to show on her face.


"All that I've done for the craft, though!" Voice adopting a whiny tone, Coforn wrings his hands, then rubs damp palms on the fine fabric; were this a meeting of weavers, the treatment his clothing gets would cause a wince or two, as he next starts tugging, hard, on his sleeves. "I'd like to know why she waited until know with these so-called-accusations as well! She makes a show of hating crowds, just so it's more believable!" A gag would fit him nicely.


Mynd lifts a hand to his mouth quietly, shocked at this development, though growing a bit..angry himself. Frowning, he listens, hands clenching in his lap.


The head Guard nods as he approaches the table, the other five that are holding the accomplices remaining a few weaverlengths back out of precautionary safety. He clears his throat meekly, his eyes flickering between the Masterharper and bows, one arm out in due formality, "Craftmaster Oriana. I assure you, Master Jueann speaks the truth. We have proof," He purposefully looks back, letting the pause sink in and the eyes wash over the four accomplices. "we were just now finally able to catch him in the act and trace down through witnesses. There were supplies that had been missing from Healer storage, a few of them trivial, some more harmful than others, but when finally put together - as they weren't all stolen together - they make a slow working, draining poison."


Jueann blinks and sighs, lowering her eyes, "I... I was waiting for the guards to arrest the cohorts and give me their signed statements.  you taught me well, remember.  Always get the proof first, then go for it.  They were jsut delivered to me before the dinner started."  She tries not to look at Seamus or anyone else.  She is looking a bit pale.


"What have /you/ done for the Craft lately, Coforn?" queries Teraille from her seat, a falsely polite tone to her slightly raised voice.  "Nothing, unless it suited your own ends."


If this were another place, another world, Niara would be tempted to throw out, "Me thinks the Lord protest too much."  Instead she lays a small paw on Mynd's arm, shocked to find how tense he is. 


Oriana's last bit of energy is drained from her efforts and she starts to bend at the knees, sinking even as she tries to hold onto the nearby table's edge.


Jueann catches the master by the elbow, "Sit Master, you've been subtlety poisoned.  You are very weak but once you are fit again...." she looks worriedly up at the Master, "please, Master, sit and save your strength."


Muttering something rather vague about how obviously unfit women are do to -things-, Coforn glances up at Teraille sharply. "So it would seem to -you-, I'm sure." His vague verbal stabs, muttered and clear alike, not only fall far short of the mark, but even damage his would-be-case. "I still find the timing suspicious," he exclaims to any who will listen, one last ditch effort to turn suspicion back on Jueann. "It's a conspiracy!" Well, yes, it is, but he means against -him-, not Oriana. "Look at her. Taking advantage of a momentary weakness even now!"


Jace slinks into the back of the room, behind everyone from where he can sit and quietly watch.


The two Harpers that had been previously holding their dignity about them, despite the increased rate of breathing and lowered gaze, now wince painfully as they lower their heads, tilting their gaze to be far from reachable by Coforn. The Healer has been fighting hard to prevent himself from further blubbering, absolutely in shock that he was caught and only /now/ realizing just how EXTREME the consequences of what he's done are. One of the guards jabs the Harper he's behind in the lower back, snarling something into his ear, and the Harper painfully lifts his eyes to wash over his Craftmaster.


Mimi stands up on her tiptoes as the other apprentices around her stand to get a better look. "I /hate/ being short," she mutters and weaves around through the apprentices to get to the Journeyman's table where she tugs on Liesana's sleeve. "What's /happening?" she whispers, "I can't hear. The other apprentices are being too loud whispering." She spins around to stare at Conforn as she crouches by the j-people's table.


Caramak half stands from his seat as well, to lean and offer support to the faltering MasterHarper even as he offers Coforn a bland look.  "You're simply digging yourself deeper, Coforn.  Silence yourself while you still have some scrap of dignity left," he advises, in a tone that would be almost pitying, were it not full of a fundamental disgust.


Cerran can only gape, looking between those who are shocked, the accomplices, the masters... What in Farabnth's name is going on here?!  Small rumors come to mind, copying records for Lies, something about missing supplies... but it seemed to die down, and never had he thought that Harper /Masters/ would be involved.  He sits with a sigh back into his chair, holding his head in his hands.  He joined Harper because they were supposed to be merry, kind folk, who traveled teaching law and music, and helping to uphold the law.  But now, he isn't sure anymore, and it's as if his whole world has shattered.


Oriana motions Jueann closer and whispers then starts to stand again, Jueann steadying the Masterharper as she speaks. "Harpers! Get these imposters out of my sight! We are here to serve Pern and these.. creatures have betrayed our trust and the trust of all the holds, weyrs, and crafts!"


Jueann adds her voice, "We are Harpers!  We hold the trust of Pern.  If one of us betrays that Trust, how should we act?"


"Shh,"  advises Liesana absently to Mimi, although she does take pity and offer a brief rundown.  "Master Coforn and his conspirators," Distasteful look at the prisoners "Have been poisoning the MasterHarper.  Jueann's caught them out."  She then falls silent at the MasterHarper's words, a firm and steady conviction in her eyes.  "They should be cast out..."  she murmurs, voice rising to a low and level tone that doesn't presume to take the stage from the masters.  "Cut off, like a gangrenous limb."  Lovely imagery, Lies.


Of course Mynd is tense. He's disgusted, and furious that a fellow harper, or /anyone/ would willingly attempt to harm another person. While he may not know Oriana personally, she's still his craftmaster, and therefore highly respected, as all the masters should be. But this.. Unthinkable. He looks again at Oriana, smiling faintly as she speaks again, taking in a rather relieved breath.


Well for starters, getting rid of the nasty folks who would go so far as to poison the Masterharper.  Aife wouldn't have them executed, because she's a pacifist still, but they're harpers.  They can be creative.


"Bu-bu--" He can't even get out 'but'. "I!" Coforn has no idea what to say, reduced to wringing his hands to the point where it looks almost painful. "I protest!" Loudly, too.


Mimi stares in disbelief at LIesana then quietly drags a chair over to sit behind the journeymen. better seat over here. Who's going to notice if she's not where she's supposed to be. "Well kick them out of the craft, /obviously/," says Mimi, but wrinkles her nose up as she hears Lies. Ewww. Gangrenous limb. Yuck. Well, it is befitting to such people...


"What do you protest?"  Aife snaps, losing her temper at last.  "That you got caught?"  The diminutive journeyman may be speaking out of turn, but thunder in storm-grey eyes dares anyone to take her to task for it once she's fallen silent.


Oriana weaves a little even with Jueann's support, but she's in command again and not about to falter. "This.. this supposed Healer is to got to Master Jaqui for her to deal with. I'm for a good slathering of numbweed and a dip in the nearest cold lake and see if he floats, but that will be her decision." She stops and gets her breath and continues after taking a drink from the nearest wine glass. "As for our own miscreants, perhaps our friendly riders can find them a lovely small island to inhabit. But I Want Their Knots First!"


Cerran looks up, these new words seeming far off to him.  He stands determinedly.  Starting softly, then growing louder. "take their knots...Take Their Knots...TAKE THEIR KNOTS!"


From the back of the room, a low buzzing of voices begins to resolve into a single word, which then shifts to form a chant.  "Exile!  Exile! Take their knots!!"


A knife comes flying from somewhere to land embedded in the table in front of the guards. Someone wants those knots off quickly.


Falada shrinks back against the wall, paling at the sight of the knife.


The chanting comes from the Journeyman's tables as well, "Take their knots!"


"Yeah, well so have all of these others - quite loudly, I'm sure you /all heard them/." The head Guard states bluntly, with a touch of a sneer in the tone, as he grabs hold of Coforn. He's about to ask Oriana if she wishes them to hold the Harpers there by the Masters' table, but remembers her decision. He's about to shout the command for them to leave, but cuts himself off quickly as Oriana's words are heard. He wonders for a moment, then releases Coforn's arms for him to have the /honor/ of doing so himself. The other three Harpers are shackled together, still, and the Guard glances over towards the Masters.


Jueann supports Oriana, looking a bit pale herself and almost faints when the knife goes sailing by.  This is going to get ugly fast.


Liesana eyes the tossed knife longingly, likely thinking of adding her own, if she'd not let them elsewhere.  "Yes!  Take their knots, and let them live with their consciences and Thread for company!"  she calls out.


Oriana pats Jueann's arm for reassurance, knowing her dislike of unpleasantness.


"Whoever threw that, don't do it again!  There's too many people in here, you'll hurt a real Harper."  Aife may be small, but anyone who's been a Harper for more than two decades knows how to make their voice carry in a crowded room.  It'd be all they'd need for Master Oriana or Jueann to get hit by a misaimed projectile to make things get even uglier. 


Renrow shudders, as it's been one of his greatest fears ever since he was promoted to a Senior Apprentice /turns/ and turns ago. For some reason, a part of him keeps him from being able to join in that part of the chant, although he /JOYFULLY/ joins in a riotous and /strong/ "EXILE! EXILE! EXILE!"


Squeak. Brave, brave Coforn sends a venomous glance in Aife's direction before scuttling backwards and away from the press of the harpers, tipping over a chair in the process to try and get away from the guard. "I-- It-- What-- I'm innocent!" he wails, before promptly pulling a 180 and making as if to advance on the cluster of Istan Masters and Oriana just as the head guard grabs him. "You deserved it," he hisses. "It should be me! Me!" Insert harsh laughter here. He's definitely -not- taking off his knot. "Women and effeminate men! That's what the craft's reduced to!" He continues on in that vein, and it's rather vitriolic in tone.


Caramak no longer makes any pretence at manners.  Standing abruptly, he jerks his head towards the four conspirators, before bowing it in a nod to Oriana.  "If I might be permitted to collect those ill placed knots and present them to you, /MasterHarper/?" he inquires, emphasizing her title in a well pitched voice before advancing on Coforn.


Cerran continues chanting, urging the other apprentices to join him.  They slowly join him, one by one standing and pounding the table in time (they are, of course, still harpers).  He only wishes he could be one of those to take their knots, but knows their are others more suitable for that duty.


Oriana turns to Caramak, a vicious smile on her face as she quite calmly nods to Caramak. "Please, do the craft a favor and do it quickly."


Mimi hmphs quietly, muttering, "This is no time for a /riot/." But of course the girl joins in with the chant, "Take their knots!" Okay, maybe riots are fun. Funfun.


Oh dear. /That/ will have Mynd out of his seat. Well..at least he's not going to jump on Coforn or anything, but hands come down on the table, anger rather apparent now on the rather feminine harper. Mean Coforn! "Tear it off him. He doesn't even deserve to be considered a /former/ Harper!"


Falada can't chant, but she can certainly join in the pounding and does so with vigor.


Jueann calls for silence.  "SILENCE!  Everyone!  PLEASE!" For someone that doesn't like noise, she can make herself be heard.  She raised children after all.  "I SAID SILENCE!"


Caramak offers a feral smile in return, and draws his beltknife.  No, not for purposes of violence, but to slice the knots from the shoulders of Coforn and his Masters.  He turns to return to Oriana's side with the knots, but not before offering a level, venomous "Words cannot describe the utter contempt I feel for you."  He then nods briefly to Oriana, and places the severed knots before her, standing at her shoulder on the other side of Jueann.


Niara grabs onto Mynd's arm again, deluding herself that she could hold him back.  At Master Jueann's roar, she pleads, "Mynd!  Quiet!  Pay Attention!  Hold on!"  She refocuses on the Master Table, to see what is to happen now.


Coforn spits at Caramak's feet when his knot is cut off -- or rather he tries. The little dribblet of drool falls to the floor and a bit runs down his chin, and he hangs in the arms of the guards, a heavy, sullen, and finally silent, weight. Because you all needed that mental image.


Oriana's plate somehow disappeared in all the commotion and she splays the intricate knots in the empty space in front of her, jaw set. Even she looks at Jueann as she roars.


Jueann looks out over all the harpers, young and not young.  "With everything that has come out.  Do you want Master Oriana as your Master Harper? How say you?"


Cerran was just about to climb onto the table in his passion, but decides that's not exactly a good idea after hearing Oriana's words.


Liesana is on her feet and with shaking hands clutching at her wineglass, as if she'd prefer to be clutching a throat instead.  But she stays silent at Jueann's command, and her gaze snaps over to the Master, the rage in her eyes now burning down to a cold and calculating anger.  She jerks her chin in a sharp nod, joining the other journeymen as the cry begins to be raised among her near seatmates.  "Oriana!!"


Oh, how Aife wants to throw something at Coforn--something hard and heavy, right between the eyes, would be incredibly satisfying.  But hearing Juean's request, four-feet-ten-inches of fire-haired Harper vaults atop the Journeymen's table so she can well be seen.  "For the Masterharper!"


Renrow fiercely and quickly throws forth his voice, "/AYE/!!" He tosses a fist into the air with the force of the word, a ferocity in his eyes that's probably never been seen before. The chorus echoes richly through the room, both of the MasterHarper's name and the 'aye's and 'yay's in reply.


Mynd gives a slight squeak at Jueann's roaring, letting himself be tugged back into his seat again. Meep. Well, he wasn't going to make much noise than his original bit anyway, but still, still rather angry, but attentive. "Yeah!"


Teraille gets to her feet and offers her own shout of affirmation.  "Oriana for Masterharper!"


Niara gives up fighting Mynd to his seat and instead takes his place, clapping and squealing in affirmation. 


Mimi peers over the tops of heads, brows knitting together furiously. "We want Oriana!" she yells with the others, clapping her hands together a few times.


Renrow turns upon seeing Aife jump up onto the table, his jaw set, he jumps up onto his seat, joining her and lifting his glass high, "For MasterHarper /ORIANA/!"


Oriana's face gains a modicum of color as she blushes lightly at the support then motions with her hands for the din to lower so she can speak again and have a chance at being heard. Harpers are capable of making far too much loud noise.


Upon seeing Aife's vault to the table, Cerran continues with his original idea and jumps up, this time chanting, "ORIANA!  Our MasterHarper!"


Falada gives a shrill cheering whistle in agreement as the yells again mount around her.


Caramak, standing at Oriana's shoulder with Jueann give a simgle controlled nod.  "Oriana indeed.  You have the support of Ista."  he intones with a grave and heartfelt formality.


Reeba stands quickly placing one fist in the air yelling "Oriana...aye!"    And then quiets down at the Oriana's unspoken request.


Coforn, of course, howls something entirely opposite to the rest of them, but the noise from the others drown him out. He can be heard to hiss something venomous and rude and best left to imaginations in Oriana's direction as she motions for silence, though.


Aife falls silent, though she remains standing on the table, arms crossed defiantly over her chest. 

"Please!" Oriana starts, and pauses for the noise level to lessen a bit more. "Please ... Oh I thank you all for your support," she spreads a smile around the hall. "I'd be honored to remain your Craft Master with Caramak and Teraille," she nods to each of them and makes a sweeping gesture to the rest of the head table, "And the other masters beside me."


Jueann smiles up at Oriana, "Well Master, what more proof do you need?" She notices Seamus out of the corner of her eye, he too supports Oriana and glaring at Caramak now.


Renrow's face seems rather red at the moment - the heat of anger rising in his face, an excitement adding to it, the surge of energy, and now, he forces himself to drop again after taking a large drink from his glass (to prevent spilling upon the drop) and retake his seat.


Mynd smiles rather happily again, clapping a bit as Oriana agrees to remain Masterharper. Whee! Well, his anger definitely went away fast..


Cerran stops and turns, listening to Oriana's words, then lets out a loud cheer.


Oriana waits for the last bit of noise to die down and tries still to ignore the non-persons who were once her advisors and helpers. "Before my last energies drain, I want to call Teraille and Caramak and others to join to revamp the Hall with me. Making us stronger, better Hapers Of Pern!"


Caramak and Teraille, in one of those telepathic moments the long married are prone to, both step forward and half bow to the MasterHarper.  Caramak speaks for the both of them with a firm "We are at your service, and that of the Craft we all serve." 


Cerran motions to his fellow apprentices to settle down, then turns to Master Oriana from his perch on the table, and gives a deep bow, the rest of the apprentices following likewise, signifying their willingness and eagerness to serve.


Jueann helps Oriana to reseat herself in her chair, "Master, please? I think it's a good idea that Caramak and Tereaille comes here to help and all that. But I for one, don't want to leave Ista.  It would never work out if I came to Fort."  Master Oriana nods, very tiredly, looking over at Master Seamus.  "I think you may be right.  Well, Ista needs a new craftmaster with Caramak and Teraille returning here.  You can take his posting."


Mynd simply relaxes a bit, sighing, and reaches to the table, plucking a bit of a roll to pop into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. He smiles, still listening quite attentively.


Liesana has retaken her seat, and is now nursing her glass of white wine, her brow creased in intent concentration as she watches the scene play out.  Now it's a matter of posting and politics, which she can observe with a greater calm.


The head of the guards chuckles in his deep voice, roughly turning Coforn around as he heads towards the others. With a nod, the others turn their prisoners around with wide smirks much like their captain, as they simply /had/ to force them all to stay for the joyous uproar of their plans being foiled completely. Couldn't possibly let them miss that - what better image of their last bit of freedom to shackle into their minds for the rest of their lives. With that, their all hauled out of the doors, out of sight, but /far/ from out of mind.


Perhaps Aife should hop down off the table now--but she doesn't, because it's really much easier to see and hear what's going on when one holds the advantage of elevation.  And she's going to want to remember all this later.


Cerran clambers down and takes a seat, much calmer now


Niara follows the suit of Mynd and Mummsie, dropping into her seat with a little sigh.  A sad half-smile plays about her lips as she watches the more normal business of posting and promotion reassert itself.  She holds up a hand and begins ticking off something on her fingers, folding them down until only one remains.  One more to go...


Caramak's jaw drops slightly at the mention of postings, and he even begins to speak.  "Master Jueann...?  Really, not to question your choices, MasterHarper but..."  And then he stops.  "Not to question your choices."  he intones firmly.  "Teraille and I shall serve you as Craftseconds, with Master Jueann as Istan Crafthead."


Renrow's eyes show just how much of a daze he's still in, as the blank gaze slides down slowly and over towards the contents of his wine glass. "Had to be tonight - y'had to be sick /tonight/, love." He unconciously says aloud, finishing with a chuckle and a shake of his head. "Faranth."


Jueann blinks, "Me as Craftmaster?  I'm not an administrator."  She blinks and looks at Caramak, but at his words. She says, "I'm posted at Ista Hold.  Andron will need a replacement."  She looks up at the other harpers.  "What about Kurt and Kaeryn?  They are posted at Ista."  Oriana waves her hand.  "With Caramak and Teraille and what masters we have here, they can stay posted where they are at."


Mynd tilts his head slightly, smiling a bit at the suggestion as Jueann for Ista's craftmaster. Beam! Hiding a giggle behind his hand, he nods a little bit. Well, /he/ thinks it's appropriate, at any rate. Ooh. Another bit of meatroll. Munch.


Smiling at the more pleasurable turn of events, Reeb smiles at Jueann and says quietly, "Ahhh, the new title has a nice ring to it, eh?  Craftmaster Jueann?"


Liesana tilts her head and murmurs a propos to Mynd that "If Ista Hold is open, I bet you get the post."  She then withdraws to let him blush at the thought, raising her glass and her voice in a toast.  "To Craftseconds Caramak and Teraille, and Crafmaster Jueann!  Health, long life, and less paperwork!" 


Oriana waves her wave, tiredly, "Well find someone to be posted there.  You're a master." Jueann blinks and straightens.  Her first act as Ista's new craftmaster, her eyes roam the crowds and rest on Mynd.  "Mynd!  Andron will need you in the upcoming months.  And you are already teaching his girls.  You take over as IstaHold's Harper."


Renrow's eyebrows raise high, joyous laughter rolling out of him as he loudly applauds for all, "Congrats!!" He stands, lifting his glass again, "To Masterharper Oriana - yes, once more, quite deserved - to the Craftseconds, to Craftmaster Jueann, and to the new IstaHold Harper!" He calls out, lifting his glass a bit higher in toast.


Well this is all interesting stuff.  A lot of reorganization.  But Aife managed to miss dinner, thanks to the time change between High Reaches and Fort, and surreptitiously steals a meatroll off someone else's plate.


Caramak looks briefly as if he'd quibble with Jueann's choice, but only briefly, and so he and Teraille take their new seats in the Craftsecond's chairs, and join in the toasts and applause.


Mynd blinks a bit, cheeks flushing just slightly at Liesana's comment. He makes a bit of a face. "Liesana! Don't say th--" Or it might happen? Cough!! Rather shocked, and nearly falling out of his chair, the harper looks at Jueann like she's grown a third head. She..had a second? Maybe..? Ahem. Yeah. A bit flustered, the journeyman stands, nibbling on his lower lip a moment before nodding, smiling faintly. "I..well..yes ma'am!" Beam! What, like he was going to say no? Liesana will be given an evil look later. She jinxed it!


Reeba applauds all the decisions and is pleased indeed.  Her old friends as craftseconds and Master Jueann as Ista head....what an evening this turned out to be. 


Cerran cheers, egging on the other appies.  He holds up his glass in toast to all, who are very deserving.  He has reestablished his faith in the craft, and can now return to his normal hijinks... if he could just find the laxatives... ;)


Liesana smiles serenely, and sips at her wine, looking well pleased.  She turns her head to Adrois, who's been seated next to her again, and intones a calm "Pay up," after the announcement of Mynd's posting.  With an exaggerated sigh, the tall and dark haired man winks, and tips over three one mark disks and a two marker.  They managed to make a bet in the intervening minutes since things calmed down?  Adrois is Bitran born, after all.

Logfile from Niara





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