Fort Weyr - Fort Sea Hold


Somewhere in the crowd they got separated - Lucy and Beyrl. Despite the fact that they were suppose to be together. And tourists. Alas. Somehow Beyrl has found himself on this other side of the market - perhaps because over there is a harper sitting on a box playing. The crowds seem to be using him as a backdrop of noise to run their commerce past, and no one really pays attention. But an attentive viewer? They'll notice that the harper looks up once in a while, eyes following a pair as they pass, ears open. Listening, even as his fingers pluck out a folktune on his guitar.

Beyrl glances this way, glances that way. The last thing he recalls is Lucy telling him they're going shopping. Then.. he just can't recall. Perhaps he was distracting himself far too much with thoughts of home. And dragons. And drying paint. All far more interesting then shopping, he's certain. Spotting the harper, of instrumental persuasion, he makes for a deliberate wend, checking things out of interest along the way (totally not shopping). A weaver here, a tome there, and then the harper sits in front of him. He listens and watches to hear this one's story (along the way to find Lucy, he attempts to convince himself).

The harper isn't singing today - just playing. Providing backdrop, and, of course, an excuse to be sitting here. He's a journeyman by knot on his shoulder. When Beyrl stops he'll get a bright cheery smile from the man, and even a "What brings you do Fort Sea Hold?" Smiles all around here, and not a single hint that perhaps the man was doing anything but playing for the enjoyment of the (unattentive) crowd.

Many things have stories, even those without words, and Beyrl enjoys attempting to find those in the song and images of those who create them. He returns the smile in kind, and recalling his role to be played, he thus answers, "For anything new I'm searching, to bring back to home, for memory sake of the place visited."

"Newness, huh?" The harper's beat picks up on the strings, as he transitions from one nameless song to another. "Well, you might check out Joe's stall over there," and he'll attempt to point to Beryl's left, "or over at Ntanel's over there. Either have got some pretty little sea-themed souvenirs you might pick up." Behind them a pair of sailors pass, and in between the harper's words a quiet, "But what if the weyr…" is whispered, before the pair are out of earshot again.

Beyrl glances the way indicated, then the other way is focused on, as each in kind is pointed out. "Perchance they have tomes of events past of the Fort by the sea?" he inquires, though momentarily his attention is snagged like a quick nibble upon some hook, by those speaking of weyrs.

"Nah." This street-harper is not nearly as flowery in speech as some, but it's his harper training that lets him understand Beyrl where others fail. "Books rot too easily in the humidity, and the paper is still too expensive. Find some of the old grandfathers in the dining area though," a nod towards a covered nook with tables, "and you might get some tales." The harper's eyes follow the two whispers until they are out of sight, then settle back on the young man in front of him. "Seems like a strange item to be looking for. What brings you to Fort Sea Hold?"

Beyrl glances with enhanced interest toward the nook. "Tales from those who've life's path has tread turns past is a pleasure always to indulge." A momentary glance as well from him to where the two disappear, before his gaze upon the fellow harper falls. "To learn the stories of those that lived, which paths may have crossed that of the fort I now call home, is what I seek."

Telling stories is natural for a harper, and his story of a tourist is one he now tells. "You're not our typical tourist." For all the harper keeps what he hears to himself, he doesn't shy away from asking Beyrl directly. "Who are you?" Because he's got a slight inkling of a feeling - from the way the young man talks, and it doesn't relate at all to the regular knot Beyrl is wearing. Something stinks, and the harper wants to know what is up.

"You're not our typical tourist." For all the harper keeps what he hears to himself, he doesn't shy away from asking Beyrl directly. Finally, he focuses on Beyrl's shoulder, on the simple knot there. It hadn't been important now. Eyebrows raise as he reads it "Where's your Journeyman apprentice?"

Beyrl lets out a sigh of exasperation, though large inaudible. "Of that I've heard plenty." he admits. "Speech begs to bloom, and for it I wish to do justice." At his knot he glances, then back to the man does he give an expression of slight discomfort. "To the streets I.. may.. have lost her. For shopping she wanted, and my mind did wander." he answers, his fingers twiddling slightly, as if in embarrassment.

"For shame on you kid," The Journeyman shakes his head, and finally leaves off his tuning to stand up. Maybe he has a secondary reason but he won't show it just yet. Instead he'll throw is guitar over a shoulder and nod towards a doorway out. "Let's go find her before I get in trouble for letting an apprentice wander in a strange place."

Beyrl screws up his mouth in a slight wince at the admonishment given, but returns with a breathy "Take leave I shall. Though a story for telling I was hoping to find." In this last, he's sincere. Though a part he plays, his interests are his still.

"Come along then." Beyrl's hardly a kid, and the harper can tell. But he's also an apprentice, so there are some things in play here. Except, of course, the fact that there have been people impersonating false knots… "Tell me." Abruptly, as they walk through the crowd, "How is old Jethan doing these days?" The name of a well known master at the hall, one the kid would know if he had trained there recently. A test of sourts.

Beyrl stays with the musician, heading on after. His attention perks at the question and the name, and a fond smile and chuckle come over him. "Master Jethan is older still, likely the last you knew of him." Beyrl doesn't recognize the fellow harper, so makes the assumption he was before his time with the master and teachers. "No less knowledgable, no more lenient on lessens he gives. A well of stories he can still tell, though a half turn's past since last I held his company." He glances about, curious at the sights. And sounds. And whispers.

"Old bastard still a blowheart then." The harper laughs good-naturedly, and they continue walking till they break from the group. Only once they turn the corner does the harper draw Beyrl into a side hallway, the smile vanishing. "Apprentice, what are you doing here?" Straight up. "I wasn't aware that the hall had sent someone else out here."

"His stories I still enjoy." Beyrl half mutters. Beyrl turns the corner with the other, and offers a look of confusion. Of the group, this one wasn't a part of it. Ha'ze would have mentioned. At Fort, he wasn't aware of this one. The question makes little sense. No, wait. Beyrl's mind comes to a sudden stop, a realization hitting. The other had said hall. Not Fort. "Of Hall business I am not a part. I find myself here due to wanderings to find a story for my walk in life." To this he states true. "That walk has not yet come to an end. The path is still open to me, and I've tread upon it for a season past." he answers, then an expression of concern is etched into his face. "Is there trouble with the Hall?" He choses to be upfront with this, however rough the wording may be upon his tongue.

The harper doesn't miss that moment of confusion, that look. Hands on hips the harper examines the teen from top to bottom and shakes his head. "No. No trouble at the hall. But you being here has me concerned. Get back to your harper apprentice, and stay out of sight. There are some strange dealings going on here."

Beyrl is first and foremost commited to family. Next to the new home at Fort. Though a mission he's on, two wherries with one stone shall be taken out, he hopes. "What dealings does the Hall give concern?" he inquires of the other. "What gives the Hall concern, brings from me concern for the family I have there." he tells the fellow harper seriously.

"Send your journeyman to talk to me later." Because the Harper? He's done with this. There are serious information concerns to lay out, and right now he's not going to share. Not in this public place- as punctuated by the fact a group of sailors walk by. "Get yourself away Apprentice." With that curt farewell, the harper slips back out of the side hallway and back into the market-place.

Beyrl opens his mouth to inquire further, but the other has already taken leave. He decides to head advice and heads out in search of his own.


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