Who

Ethelinda , Unnamed Zingari Scribe

What

Ethelinda dictates a letter to the Zingari Elders. This letter could mean great or terrible things for Willimina and Tallel and reveals a new position for the old Zingari matriarch herself.

'mild profanity' 'politics' 'adult themes'

When

-- On Pern --
It is 4:14 PM where you are.
It is afternoon of the thirteenth day of the first month of the third turn of the 12th pass.
In Igen:
It is the seventy-third day of Winter and 32 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day with a gentle wind.
In Southern:
It is the seventy-third day of Summer and 115 degrees. It is sunny and bright. White fluffy clouds drift lazily across the china blue sky.
In Southern Mountains:
It is the seventy-third day of Summer and 32 degrees. It's really damn cold out.


Where

The Igen Caravan Grounds; Ethelinda's Wagon

OOC Date

 

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Igen Caravan Grounds

Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.

It is the seventy-third day of Winter and 32 degrees. It is a bright, sunny day with a gentle wind.


Timor: moon6.jpg
Belior: moon1.jpg



It's a damn cold day in Igen. So cold, in fact, that Ethelinda has refused to leave the comforts of her wagon. In fact, she has conducted all of her business today from the chair she presently sits in. She sits there, beneath the warmth of her lap blanket, her weathered old canine at her feet, waiting for the scribe boy she'd just let in to unpack his things. She'll be dictating a later to the clan heads and the clan elders, responding to complaints from other clan heads and some growing concerns over her grandaughters flippant outlook on clan law.

"Are you ready boy?" Ethelinda snaps in her gravely old woman voice, she taps her cane on the ground to get his attention.

"Aye Ethelinda, fire away!" The scribe sets his stylas to the precious paper they use for such messages.

The old matriarch leans back in her chair and cllears her throat. She adjusts her lap blanket and takes a drink of water before beginning her diatribe.

"My fellow Elders,"

"I will start by expressing my most humble thanks. It is with honor that I accept my place amongst your ranks. It is not often that a matriarch is offered such an honor."

The scribe quickly and neatly transcribes Ethelinda's words onto the paper, though his eyebrows rise at the content.

"I shall be honored to host the next meeting, as traveling has become hard on my old bones. I shall hasten to make the camp ready for new arrivals. Which brings to mind the matter that was brought to my attention in our last correspondence."

"I am aware of the leaders whom are furious with the mother clan at the moment. I know that my grandaughter's refusal of ALL her suitors has caused a great deal of chaos within the clan. I know that many were hoping to merge with the mother clan. Her dalliances with her second in command have also caused a bit of a stir."

"I understand also, that as an Elder, I must now put my personal feelings for my heir aside and enforce clan law upon her. I had been lenient on her because of the untimely murder of her late husband. Hopefully she will take on her responsibilities now that her husband's murderer has been caught. Please understand that she has wed once already, so I will not deny her the right to CHOOSE her own husband. But I will make sure it is done within the time frame you have given her."

The scribe works furiously to keep up with Ethelinda as it looks like she is not going to stop for him any time soon. HIs stylas flies across the paper, his nose pinching in concentration.

"Business goes well, though I am thinking we might need to recruit a blacksmith or two, The Reika's blacksmiths are no longer here and there is a monetary void to fill. Please speak amongst those of your clans and see if any would be interested in the position."

"I look forward to seeing you all here. Hopefully we'll have certain matters taken care of before your arrival."

"Most Sincerely, Ethelinda, Matriarch and Elder of The Mother Zingari Clan"

Ethelinda clears her throat and sips at a glass of water before watching the scribe finish his work. "Now, I need you to make that letter in triplicate and send it out to the clan elders. And do it quickly!"

The scribe throws sand on the paper to dry the ink and nods curtly at the withered old Zingari woman. "I'll get it done right now ma'am." He is quick to clean up his mess and pack his things. He gives Ethelinda a deep, respectful bow before taking his leave. "Good afternoon ma'am."

"See that you do." Ethelinda watches the young scribe scramble out of her wagon and close the door. She leans over and gives her canine's ears a good scratch. She'll have to speak with young Tallel now, tomorrow morning. It is not a talk she looks forward to having, as she does not believe it will be kindly received. She sighs and stands, shuffling over to a larger than normal jewelry box. She pulls out one of the drawers and removes a purple silk pouch. "He'll need these…" She murmurs and shuffles about, looking for some other trinket.

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