Log in

Logs from the Smithcraft

Log from 2/14/2007

Journal Info

Smithcraft Badge
Smithcraft of Harper's Tale

Log from 2/14/2007

Previous Entry Share Next Entry

It is the twenty-eighth day of summer.
It is the second Turn of the Tenth Interval.

It's getting to be quite balmy in Ista as the spring wears into the summer season. It's nearly impossible for anyone to step foot outside at anything other than a leisurely pace without becoming instantly drenched. Steward Yatyl is decked out in a light gray colored tank top, the white collared shirt he wears over the tank lending a little professionalism to the attire. A somewhat floppy, striped black and white beach hat shades his eyes and forehead, his head bowed slightly to increase the effect. Sand colored shorts and dark leather thong sandals finish off his wardrobe, the intention of the outfit screaming comfort and breezy in every way. With his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets, he wanders down to the tent the smithcraft are using as a base of operations, hoping to catch Master Teric there during the noon time siesta.

Teric is indeed in the tent, and only a single smith apprentice is there with him, likely only to act as a gofer should Teric decide he needs something at this hour. The girl is stretched out in the darkest corner of the tent, limbs hanging limply from the camp chair that looks like it could close in on her at any moment. Teric takes little notice. His camp chair is larger and sturdier, obviously built by a master woodcrafter. Perhaps it is his own. A glass of sangria decorates the folding table in front of him, as of yet untouched. His leather hat is set beside the glass. Black trousers and boots are probably not the most comfortable items for this climate, but necessary for his craft. He makes up for it with a loose linen shirt, dyed to a perfect shade of Smith Red with the craft's symbol embroidered on the sleeves in black thread. The smith master is sitting right now, staring blankly at the work site which is deserted until the cooler hours return.

"Oh, sangria. Excellent choice." Yatyl starts speaking without even realizing it. Hopefully no one in the tent is easily startled, since his approach went unnoticed. He totters somewhere between standing up to his full height and slouching slightly in a very laid back position. The smile that pulls on his lips seems to indicate the latter is the stance of choice. "Knock, knock, by the way. Thought I'd come check in with you."

Things have been busy on the isle of Ista. Many other projects with more pressing needs have taken priority to getting Ista Hold into order, but now that none of the other holds or halls on the island threaten to fall down and all sources of putrid water have been removed, Ista Hold is finally getting some attention. The steward seems eager to chit chat about the work that is to be done, but the glass of frozen (It is frozen, right?) fruit and wine seem to have captured his whole attention, his eyes locked on the frost and condensation dripping from the heavy glassware.

"But, if you've been in the sun too long already, we can chat later. It just seemed an opportune moment... since there really isn't anyone to manage right now."

Teric looks up, his focus coming about slowly, a bit dazed. "Oh! No, it's fine," he replies, getting to his feet. The apprentice stops staring at the canvas ceiling long enough to see who's there, but goes back to her quasi-nap. Better not to look like she's paying attention. Teric lifts his shirt off his shoulders an inch or so to resettle things (yay for tropical heat), then picks up the glass finally, careful not to drip on anything on the table. "One of my favorites," he explains, smiling a bit as he gestures with the sangria. "Anything in particular you wanted to talk about?"

"Well..." Yatyl rests the knuckles on his hip as he waits for a moment, formulating his thoughts. "I kind of wanted to see how the first day went. I know we met last sevenday to go over the game plan, but things change when you actually start the job, right?" He smiles as he straightens up, his hands sliding back into his pockets. "So, how was your day?"

Teric squints out at the work site and sips from the sangria before answering. "Nothing all that unexpected yet," he then answers. "Had miners or smiths on site really for a while, if not exactly producing much. Clearing debris. But we have fresh eyes now, so..." His shoulders rise for a second. "Everything seems sound. We'll have a better idea in a sevenday."

Yatyl nods, peeking out the tent at the work site before wandering another haphazard loop around the area. "Well, that's good." he sighs as he leans against one of the center support beams. "I understand that all the information isn't all available yet. I was just sort of stopping by to make sure that there's no rooms we need to evacuate immediately." His brows rise quickly. The steward's distracted. "I generally make some rounds during the afternoon break. It's nothing big and please tell me if it starts to feel like I'm hanging over your shoulder. I really don't mean to."

Teric replies with an easy smile and shakes his head. "It doesn't bother me. I won't be around much, though. I'm assigning one of our up-and-coming smiths as foreman, but I'm within easy riding distance if I'm needed," he explains before taking a long drink. Keeping his language clean is an effort. He sets the glass back on its coaster. "Are there any areas you wanted us to prioritize?"

Yatyl shakes his head as he shrugs again. "Nah. I don't want to try and tell you at all what to do or what needs prioritizing, especially this early in the game. I don't want to be that guy." He turns away a little, his attention on the canvas roof. "You and your up-and-coming foreman are working with the miners and I trust your guys' opinions and judgment." he takes a deep breath. "This is just important to getting riders here before things start to stray. It's good that they're just as busy with the storm as us, but I've had word from at least one rider couple from High Reaches that I don't want to lose the interest of. How are we doing this? All at once or are we going to be able to clear and finish one weyr at a time?"

"Debris's mostly gone," Teric answers, frowning in thought as he crosses his arms. "First step is insuring things are stable. Shorin' up, replacing anythin'.... anything we can't be totally sure of." He picks up the sangria again and takes a breath. "An' from there we pretty much pick up from where we had to stop after the storm. Could get maybe... three weyrs done in six months. Double that after a Turn. Wouldn' be much left then." He looks to Yatyl for confirmation on the numbers. "A couple of the bigger cotholds want a weyr or two constructed, too. Could make 'em independent of the main structure if you need more space. But you've got room for a dozen assorted." And now he'll sip.

"Excellent, excellent." Most of this, Yatyl already knew. He just couched a new question in a familiar environment. "We'll start with three then, come the end of autumn." He purses his lips as his eyes go out of focus in thought. "Here's the next question: can we form couches out of some of the rubble and cement, or do dragons only like pure stone structures?"

Teric barks out a surprised, light laugh. "That, my friend, you'd have to ask the dragons. I really don't know. But if you do find out, let us know." He winks at the steward. "I'd imagine there a bit like us. Some are finicky, some could sleep on anything."

Yatyl grunts as he nods, still a little distracted. "Yeah, I guess. don't have a lot of interaction with them myself. I try, but I just get about a 'length from one and become a little thunderstruck by their eyes... and their size. Nothing debilitating, but man, it's hard to keep up normal conversation. Greens are ok, because they're small..." He produces a fan from one pocket and starts to usher air across the back of his neck, the heat starting to get to him. "I'll ask N'ano next time we go drinking."

Teric nods a couple times. "Just let us know. Getting some new, unbroken stone will mean more time. We can make what we have nice and smooth, so if that's good enough for the dragons, we shouldn't need anything more. But..." He shrugs and takes another drink. "Don't hesitate to ask us things. Or /tell/ us things. It's your hold, man." He grins and glances at the apprentice in the back, who just might be napping for real this time. "Should probably find her a replacement. Gets hot out here, doesn't it?"

"That's what most people like about Ista." Yatyl starts to hover near the exit. "You almost have to take a break in the middle of the day." He grins at the mastersmith before heading out. "I have another meeting in a little while. I should go get something to eat before that. And don't worry. I won't pussyfoot around any real problems."

"Good to hear. And really, we /should/ take breaks," Teric agrees, then beckons to the apprentice. "Time to find a cool place to sit for a while. Thank you for stoppin' by, Yatyl."

[End of log?]
Powered by LiveJournal.com