Logs:Obtaining Assistance
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| RL Date: 26 November, 2011 |
| Who: E'gin, Giorda |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: E'gin wants Giorda's help. |
| Where: Headwoman's Office, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 4, Month 5, Turn 27 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Emme/Mentions, Iolene/Mentions |
| Headwoman's Office, High Reaches Weyr This room is too small to really serve as anyone's room but a little too big to be relegated to closet status. Oval in shape, it has a large wooden door that grants or bars access and smooth walls carved with inset shelves that hold tidy rows of scrolls and ledgers. To the right of the door, a table large enough for six to squeeze in at is often occupied by the assistant headwomen during tithe season and a pitcher of water and glasses stand ready to serve in its center at all times. Squarely in the center of the room is the headwoman's desk, a massive affair of well-polished wood and many drawers bearing neat stacks of hides, incoming and outgoing baskets, many paperweights and a glowbasket stand with several small baskets that allow the light level to be adjusted to suit the task at hand. The rear wall of the office, behind the desk bears a vividly hued tapestry depicting a tithing scene with wagons pulled into the Weyr being unloaded. To the left a small hearth shares a flue with the main fireplace in the common room and is capped with a stone mantel that currently holds a collection of small rocks, shells and other knick knacks that presumably belong to the Headwoman. Giorda, High Reaches' Headwoman, is in her mid-thirties: a relatively unremarkable looking woman. During the tenure of the exiles, she's been something of a fence-sitter, doing the best she can to make the group comfortable, but refraining from being either supportive or detractive of their plight and position. What is well known is that she's susceptible to flattery. This afternoon, a cool, damp spring afternoon, she can be found in her office, working through some great stack of papers that are giving her, quite obviously, no particular pleasure. The heavy fall of booted feet can be heard well before E'gin's enters the doorway. Smiling boradly at the headwoman he finishes his entry into the room with a purposed gait as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his mis-matched, second hand riding leathers. "Good afternoon, headwoman." He makes no immediate comment that would explain why the weyrling wingleader has appeared in her office, "I like your office." He takes a moment to look around, "I hope that you are well." He pauses, but doesn't wait for her to respond, "I wanted to take a minute to come thank you, you know, for making sure that we islanders were always comfortable, and clothed...I am not sure any of us ever took the time to thank you like we should have." Giorda looks up, as E'gin enters, and her surprise plays visibly upon her expression: muddy green eyes give the weyrling a quizzically appraising glance. As he talks-- well, she looks even more surprise, at anything, particularly as those statements follow one from each other, one after another. She drops her hands towards the surface of the desk, resting her fingers there half-bent, saying, finally, "Well, now. That is a first. It's E'gin, isn't it? The one they made Wingleader." She's not warm, but nor is she cool - and is that the beginnings of a smile around the corners of her mouth? The surprised look of the headwoman is noted as E'gin's smile softens, "A first? People don't thank you? I mean..." He points at the paperwork on her desk, "It can't be an easy job...long hours, grumpy people." He shakes his head, "I guess some people just can't understand hard work." Her question receives a nod, "Yes, ma'am, that's me, and I thought since you were so pleasant to us maybe we could help you." "Not your people," she says, betraying a certain bias; still, she's quick to wave it away with a shake of her head and a hand that offers one of the seats opposite her desk. "You have me all intrigued, now. How could you possibly help me, Weyrling Wingleader?" E'gin takes the comment in stride, "Well, then I owe you more than a thank you headwoman, I also owe you an apology." Shaking his head with a frown, "I assure you that we are not generally so rude, it was a bit of a shock, but that is not an excuse. So please also accept my apology." The male slips into the offered chair, "Can I ask you a question first? You know your job inside and out, is there anything that could be done better that no one seems to see?" Though her mouth has slid into a thin line, there's a certain amount of graciousness in the way Giorda inclines her head forward, which does seem to suggest that the apology has been accepted. Not that she actually says as much: instead, she steeples her hands, resting her chin atop them, her elbows firmly upon the desk. "When I see a problem with how something is done," she tells him, firmly, "I aim to fix it. I wouldn't be much good at my job if I didn't, surely." E'gin's arms cross over his chest as he listens her answer with a nod, "Clearly, because you were able to manage taking in a whole new population of people and it didn't seem to hurt the running of the rest of the weyr at all." He leans forward, "That isn't really what I meant. What I meant was is there anything that it would be helpful if the goldriders knew to take into consideration that would make it easier for you to do your job?" Giorda is beginning to look confused again, and though she's maintaining level eye-contact with E'gin as he speaks, she's also biting at her lip and beginning to frown. "I do talk to the Weyrwomen," she remarks, finally. "Of course there are always bits and pieces-- no system is ever perfect. I'm just not entirely sure what you're trying to get at... and for that matter, why. Do you speak for the goldriders, now, Wingleader?" "Here is the thing, headwoman." E'gin decides to come clean, "I may actually be here to ask a little bit of a favor, but I could see it having great potential for you too." He grins, shifting his weight, "I of course, don't speak for goldriders, but I do have one under me who needs training." He sighs, "You have to understand that I feel responsible for those in my wing, even if we are just weyrlings, I am partly responsible for making sure they are taken care of, ready to go out in the weyr and do their jobs." There is a moment, the boy bites his bottom lip for a moment, before coming clean about why he's here, "I need someone to teach Iolene something about her responsibilities, and I thought who better than the person who runs the whole place?" At least the the caverns. "And you would be able to teach her all those things that goldriders don't normally learn that you really need for them to know." Finally, Giorda seems to understand, and it makes her drop her hands and lean back in her seat, arms resting, now, upon the arm rests. She doesn't seem to know entirely what to make of the whole plan-- she blinks, several times, and is silent for quite a long time before she manages to come up with something to say. "And how will you protect me from my boss, when she finds this out and comes down on me like a ton of bricks, mm? I may run this weyr, E'gin, but I still have a boss." The fact that Giorda doesn't jump up and tell him that she's going to tell Tiriana right away makes E'gin breath a little easier, "Completely undercover, no one knows. I assign Iolene to help around here as a punishment for something. Noone is any the wiser. Only you, Emme and I know anything about this plan." He pauses, frowning, creases in his forehead fold together, "In the end it is for the good of the weyr. Someday Tiriana will have to retire, the next gold that goes up is Senior, if that was an untrained goldrider, besides what will she do once we graduate? She needs training, for herself and for the weyr." Excuse Giorda for being a little bit dubious because, "Nothing stays secret forever, E'gin." She's dropped the 'Wingleader' bit, though whether that means anything - well, it's difficult to say. A long, low breath. "I don't deny that it's a difficult situation, but in the end... the crossover between the Weyrwomen and myself is limited. What you need is a goldrider willing to train her; there's only so much I would be able to do." Beat. "Does Iolene even know about this plan of yours?" E'gin tilts his head to one side, contemplating for a moment, "Would it change your mind if I had a goldrider who was willing to help some too?" The question is posed as if he already does, "But there is a time issue for her, so I need someone who can help. Plus, we are in crunch time. But I understand, I wouldn't want to put you in a difficult situation." The boy raises his hand and waves the whole idea off, "You've done so much for us anyway, it really is unfair of me to ask." The last question isn't answered, perhaps because the idea has been set aside. Giorda's expression is distinctly dubious, but that fades out into surprise - as though she didn't expect E'gin to drop the idea so quickly. "I'm not saying no," she says, finally. "I'm just not completely certain how much assistance I can be. Have you got a goldrider who would be willing to assist?" An easy grin spreads back across E'gin's face, "Yes, I do. You were my first thought. The gold rider came along on her own accord and offered." He's clearly unwilling to give up the name, probably for good reason. "But she said she didn't have enough time to teach her everything, and weyrlinghood will be over soon...We just want to get her as much training as possible, we know it won't be complete." He pauses, "We really need your help, and it would really help the weyr in the end." There's a good chance Giorda suspects exactly who that goldrider is-- but she's not saying anything: she simply nods. Sighing, as she rolls her neck, she says, sounding tired, "Send her to me, then. If she's willing. If she's interested. I won't waste my time if she isn't-- or risk my job. You understand that? That I could lose my job over this?" She shakes her head, then waves a hand towards the door. "See what you can do, E'gin. And leave me to my work." With a nod E'gin stands, "I understand, headwoman, this will stay low and I will only send her if she consents." With a slight inclination of his head he heads out the door, stopping only as he passes by to turn around, "Thank you, headwoman, really." With that he is gone. |
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