Sven, Jorlen


Sven is taking a break when he stumbles upon Jorlen.


It is sunset of the twenty-fifth day of the eleventh month of the sixth turn of the 12th pass.


Nighthearth, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 19 Jan 2016 05:00


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"But archives is a good lateral move if the masters say that they want more breadth."



A comfortable nook, this natural extension of the living room is cozily attired with overstuffed chairs and a couple of well-worn loveseats. All have been covered in various shades of green, giving the very incongruous appeal of a miniature forest hidden away inside… a grove of man-made proportion. Fish stews and spicy white-wherry chili are often kept hot on the minor hearths east and west of the main, for those whose hours defy when meals are kept. Ornate, the largest hearth towers high, rich with carving and utilitarian in fashion: it holds court by providing the weyr with rich klah, the air thick with the scent of cinnamon wafting.

Jorlen is stuffed into one of the larger chairs and has a footstool pulled up in front of him with stuff spread out all over the place and a mug of juice on the floor next to the chair. He 'air hammers' with a couple small wooden weirdly shaped sticks in his hands before digging though the mess of parchments/hides in front of him looking for something.

Sven has to come up for air sometime. When he emerges from that harper driven project in the living caverns he's often covered head to toe in dust, it's dirty business. He comes to the nighthearth now to get something to eat, drifting in tiredly to fill a bowl with stew. Jorlen is eyeballed curiously from his spot, but he says nothing for no.

Jorlen can't help but notice the human dust cloud that passes in front of him. He looks over with a somewhat confused look but just shrugs, "So just how did you get covered in all of that, journeyman? I didn't think they'd send harpers after really large tunnel snakes…" He reaches down and takes a sip of his juice by his chair

"Working?" Sven replies simply, between sips of his stew. He grabs up a piece of bread and finds his way towards the apprentice, surveying his work area. "Haven't you heard? Our craft is uncovering the secrets of Southern. Clearing up the catacombs beneath the weyr. Well, at least a small portion of it." He shrugs at that, offering a tired smile to the young man. "I'm Sven. And you are…?"

Jorlen looks over again and gives a slight shrug, "Ahh. I've sort of been involved in making sure everything is in order in case I have to give another recital before I get an answer on if I'm going to make Journeyman or not." He pauses for a few moment, "Oh, Sr. Apprentice Jorlen."

"Well met, apprentice." Sven doesn't move to take a seat, his appearance here only temporary before he returns to his work. But for now Jorlen has his attention, the journeyman comes closer and inspects the items spread out in front of him. "Would you like any help? I could spare an eye before I go back down."

Jorlen thinks for a moment, "Well, I've been working on a composition even though that's not what I'm concentrating on. I'm thinking the masters may want to see a little broader reach or something, though they seemed to like the pieces I played at my recital, though I didn't write them. Trying to work on a short trio here. May I ask what your specialty is?" He pulls out another parchment, "So find anything good yet down there?"

"History and archives." Sven settles on the arm of a chair, just leaning his weight into it. He makes short work of that stew while Jorlen speaks and balances the empty bowl on the seat. "So you're planning on doing your own original piece. Have you recieved a review of your recital yet?" He asks, tearing into that piece of bread. From around a bite, "Quite a bit. I'm looking forward to doing the reveal in a few weeks."

Jorlen nods a bit to the task description. "Sounds interesting. I'm hammered dulcimer performance. It's not terribly common so I think that's part of what's taking so long. There aren't really enough masters familiar with the instrument so that makes it harder I think. Anyway, I'm just trying to have something else ready in case the come back and want something else you know?

"I was never a very good instrumentist." Sven admits with a shrug of his shoulders. "I've been told that I have a good voice, but." Apparently resorting to the performance arts was never something for him. He nods to the young man's explanation. "That could be true. Hopefully they're going to get back to you soon, it's terrible having to wait."

Jorlen chuckles, "Well, archives and records is something I'm not that good at. I'm not the greatest at composition either, but it's a good lateral move if the masters say they want more breadth. Though I played the piece better than I've heard anyone else play it which is really only a couple people."

"I'm more of a historian, truth be told." But here he smiles at Jorlen, the corners of his mouth turning up slyly. "But archives is a good lateral move if the masters say that they want more breadth." Sven finishes off that hunk of bread and wipes the crumbs off on his none-too-clean pants. "I'm sure you're just stressing then, walking the tables does that to people."

Jorlen chuckles a bit, "Well said. Anyway, you're probably right about the stressing bit, just it's taking longer than normal. Though with so few on my instrument I'd like think my chances are good. I don't think there have been any new journeyman on it in several turns"

"Ah, well. I wish you the best, with any luck they'll get back to you soon." Sven displays that trademark charm with his smile, sweeping the bowl up from the chair. "I best get back to my work, before someone thinks I've gotten lost down there." His tone is playful as he exits the room, dropping of his dishes along the way.

Jorlen nods and gives a bit of a salute as Sven heads back towards the caverns, "Well, good luck with finding more stuff down there and well met"

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