==== August 25, 2013
==== Nora, Renalde
==== Nora crashes Renalde's office to look for a job.

Who Nora, Renalde
What Nora crashes Renalde's office to look for a job.
When There is 1 turn 4 months and 25 days until the 12th pass.
Where Headman's Office

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headmanoffice.jpg

Headman's Office


Renalde has installed himself at the long table, neat piles of paperwork set before him. A heavyset man stands nervously at his elbow. "Favian." The man's voice is full of disappointment. "Rebuilding is our number one priority, and we must appease the SmithCrafters to accomplish it. Requiring them to pay the extra shipping out of pocket will simply not do. I'm sure you felt that you were acting in the best interest of the weyr, but these matters should always come before me."

It might not be the best time for Favian (or maybe it so is) but she has waited long enough and now, despite the fact that he has other fish to fry, Nora has come to see Renalde. She appears in the doorway, a slim woman in a close-fitting button-down dress with a hem that doesn't lift past her knees but might raise an eyebrow anyway. Despite the storm that wages on and on, she's meticulously coiffed and lifting a hand to rap her knuckles on the door, ready to stand patiently, but not too patiently, while she waits for admittance.

Renalde pauses in his admonishment of the unfortunate underman, and lifts his gaze up to the door. His eyes carefully examine the woman standing in the doorway, eyes moving up every inch of her from shoes to too-short dress, and perfect hair. An eyebrow is raised and he carefully puts down his writing instrument. "Yes? Come in my dear, is there something I might help you with?" His tone is perfectly even and his eyes are fixed now on her face.

His dear is quick to smile, warm and easy. "In a way," Nora answers, gliding a few steps inside. Her eyes flicks to Favian and back to Renalde, lending a certain weight when she says, "If you have a moment." That is, if he's done with his scolding and can send the poor underman on his way. He can take his time if he wants. She'll wait. Right here.

Renalde flicks fingers at Favian. "Do inform Aaron that from now on Southern will be paying for the extra shipping costs for reasonable orders of materials to repair the weyr, You are dismissed." Favian, a look of relief on his face, scurries out of the room, brushing close to Nora on his way. Renalde carefully stacks the pile of records before him and sets them to one side. "Come closer. What can I do for you this evening?"

Nora graces Favian with a polite smile as he makes his exit, side-stepping to avoid being too brushed by his passage, and once he's clear, she finishes her path to stand before Renalde. "Very little, actually," she says. "In fact, quite the opposite. I'm here to be your assistant." How very simple.

Silence hangs for a long moment as Renalde examines the female again. He leans forward, folding his hands on the table before him. "What are your qualifications?"

Nora tips her head with a little sigh and says, "I'm afraid I come with few references." Such a sorry thing. "But I do have this." A slim hand slips into the flat pocket of her skirt to produce a folded piece of paper, which she offers over. "I was assistant to the Headwoman of Telgar Weyr for some turns. I am organized, efficient and dedicated." Which is a shorter way of saying much the same thing that he'll find on that piece of paper, which turns out to be a note from some Headwoman far in Telgar's history. Perhaps that she had the forethought to bring such a note is something of a testament.

Renalde takes the pice of paper from the woman, smoothing it open to scan the contents. His expression does not change as he reads, then sets the letter down precisely before him. "The assistant position is open. What have you been doing since arriving?" Do his eyes flicker to her short skirt again, or is it just a trick of a flickering glow?

There's something in her smile when he mentions that the position is available, but all Nora really has for that is a nod of her head. "I've been getting acquainted. I know you're short staffed in the kitchen. That your laundry is still in need of repair. That you have people coming in a nearly steady stream and for every additional body there is more work to be done. So really, the question is: what can I do for you?"

A slight smile crosses Renalde's face before fading back into his typical straight faced expression. "I will assign you to work with underman Shelven in the Laundry until further notice. Pending his evaluation we may speak again." Renalde, brisk efficiently, pulls out a sheet of paper and in careful penmanship writes quick orders to the underman. Once done he waits for the ink to dry before holding it out to the woman. "I do suggest you wear something more appropriate when you report tomorrow morning." His voice is dry as the one phrase expresses his disapproval of her clothing choice.

It's there again, as he gives her the assignment, that little something knowing in her smile, and she reaches out to reclaim her own letter as well as the one he's penned himself. "It won't be a problem," Nora assures of her clothing. Whatever that means. "Have a good evening, sir." And if he has nothing further, she'll be on her way.

"I'm sure it will not be. There are standards in the lower caverns that will be upheld." His tone suggests that this seems to apply to more than just the woman standing before him. "I will await the underman's report." There is an elegant flick of his fingers in dismissal as the headman moves his work to a new pile of paperwork before him.

"Few more exacting than mine," Nora promises with a twist of her grin as she turns to leave, letting that terrible skirt swing around her legs. He might repeat that he's waiting on this Shelven to judge her, but that hasn't changed her demeanor at all. "You won't be disappointed." And then, all business in her stride, she leaves him with his papers and the retreating sound of her heeled shoes down the hall.

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