Difference between revisions of "Logs:Employment For Edyis"

>---< Headwoman's Office, High Reaches Weyr(#993RJ) >------------------------<
  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.

It's allegedly spring, now, but there's a new flurry of snow coming down outside which rather makes that point moot. Deep in the caverns, Headwoman Giorda has sent out a runner to let Edyis know that she's wanted in the Headwoman's office; in the office, Giorda sits at her desk, the beads on her abacus clacking away as she calculates, though one eye lingers upon the door. She's a plain woman, forty-ish with dishwater blonde hair and a solidly dumpy middle-aged build.

Edyis jogged the distance between the records room where she'd been studying another lesson, in retrospect probably not the best choice as it sent whisps of hair fleeing from her braid, hopefully promptness and punctuality counted for more than apperance. She tidied herself up, smoothed her hair straightened her belt, and then cheeks flushed, knocked on the door as confidently as she could manage. "Ma'am, It's Edyis, You sent for me?" She waits for permission before opening the door.

"Edyis," repeats Giorda, though there's no sense that she's having difficulty placing the name; rather, she seems to be musing over it, connecting face to name in a more formal sense. One hand is waved towards the chair opposite hers; the other slides the abacus to one side so that both hands, having achieved their tasks, can fold in front of her. "I'm led to believe that you're hoping for a more... permanent position."

Edyis strides to the chair, settling in, ankles neatly crossed beneath her. "Yes Ma'am. I came in with the group that stood, and have decided to stay on at the weyr. As a result, I would like to put my skills to use and develop new ones." The words are kept simple, though the thoughts associated with them rush through. "I was looking for a position as someone's assistant in an effort to learn about the weyr more deeply."

Giorda's long fingernails rap on the wooden tabletop as she considers. "Someone's assistant, in the hopes of one day stepping up to take that person's place?" she wonders, fixing muddy green eyes on Edyis, pale brows lifted. "Which isn't to say I'm implying that's a bad thing. But. What kind of progression are you hoping for? Are you ambitious, Edyis? Why not simply a permanent position as a cook, or a... laundry worker, or something?"

Edyis thinks about the question before answering, because it forces her to ask why she's staying in high reaches. She's quiet for some moments before choosing her words. "My father taught me, and all of my siblings. thatom it did not matter what paths we chose so long as we excelled at them. My brothers were free to choose a craft, or learn to work the land they would one day inherit, my sisters and I taught what we needed to know to advance our place in the world. Had it not been for the events in Nabol, I probably would be signing a marriage contract. So to answer the question of my ambition, I have to ask, isn't everyone ambitious?" Her fingers wrap instinctively over one another in her lap, as she considers the rest of her answer. "In coming here I've left behind everything I know, and the only way to move forward is to keep moving. I expect progression, if there is any at all to be slow, and the value is in the experience and knowledge that come from this type of work. Does that answer your question?"

Lips pressing together in a moue of... not distaste but certainly something distantly related to it, Giorda considers Edyis' answer carefully. "Fancy, differentiating between boys and girls like that. What if you had wanted to join a craft yourself?" Her dismissiveness of such things is a good indication of her weyrbrededness; still, she has a nod at the end of it, a thoughtful one. "At least you're approaching it from a sensible way. What kind of thing do you see yourself assisting with? Is it my job you're after, one day? Or someone else's? In an ideal world - first thing that springs to mind."

Edyis actually smiles at the expression, cheeks dimpling. "If you want to know the truth, This is the first decision I've made for myself alone. I suppose If I had realized I had the strength to reach for it I might have chosen the harper hall." Funny the things you start realizing when you look back on your life. "The first thing that springs to mind is the records room, though, in truth I also want to help the refugees in any way I can." The last, clearly a matter close to her heart.

"The refugees." Giorda's repetition of that makes her sound abruptly very tired - even outright exhausted. She pauses, rubbing at her eyes with the soft pads of her fingers, her voice muffled when she says: "It was the same with the exiles, I suppose-- the islanders. But they all came at once, and this has been... but it isn't your fault. Anyone's fault." She sounds less sure of that. "What is it you want to do for the refugees? What more are we supposed to offer?"

Edyis shook her head. "Islanders? I think I read something in the records room about them." She shakes her head, "What more can the Weyr offer? It isn't a matter of giving food or blankets the problem is more deeply rooted than that." Edyis admits, "Most of our fields were ash, and E Until someone stops the conscriptions and the damage being done to the cotholds there's nothing that can be done. Save a sympathetic ear when needed, or - Well. With spring coming I know several holds are going to have trouble getting enough seed to sow crops. A good chunk of our fields were ash when I left. My father lost his life putting the fires out." She frowns "Huddling them all in the candidate barracks can only ever be a temporary solution, they need to get back to their homes, back to rebuilding. It's hard to do that with a man like Rone around calling the shots."

That Giorda is sympathetic to Edyis' loss is obvious. That she's less sure about the rest of it? Well, that's obvious, too, especially when she frowns, turning her gaze up towards the stone ceiling for the duration of the time she takes to work it through in her head. "The Weyr's not in a terribly good position in terms of resources," she says, finally. "With short tithes two turns in a row. But not helping people replant will leave us in a worse position in turns to come. I can't speak for our Weyrleaders, of course, but I wouldn't imagine they'd leave that undone... as long as the situation is stabilised." Still frowning, she glances back at Edyis. "You'd have Rone taken out of contention, then." It's not a question. "And Ienavi as Lady Warder for her son? Or someone else?"

Edyis nods contemplating, "Lady Ienavi appears no more trustworthy at first inspection than any of the others, and frankly. It's all immaterial. Whoever is championed has to have the strength to oppose Rone, the wisdom to support the weyr and can convince the other lords to support them will win out. If she can lead in the capacity Nabol needs, and pays the proper respects to Hall and Weyr, then she's just as valid a candidate as any so long as it's never proven she killed her husband." She shakes her head, "For the Weyr the situation is even more dangerous, without the support of the holds everyone starves. They have the opportunity though, to win the hearts of the holders back, if it's done well and carefully. Without thread fall, the holds have to remember why dragon riders are important."

Giorda nods, once for each of the points Edyis makes, and finally spreads her hands flat upon the smooth surface of her desk. "And therein lies the rub. It does seem as though our leaders have elected to support her - or at least assist her - and so that is what we do, officially. For right or for wrong." It's hard to tell of Giorda herself has a horse in this race; she seems genuinely contemplative. "In any case, I will raise the possibility of assisting. I don't imagine your thoughts will fall upon deaf ears; we're all well aware of Interval life. I'm going to assign you to Head Recordskeeper Jeromen. If you do well, perhaps we'll consider you for an Assistant Headwoman's position in due course-- that would be a step up, and a pay increase, but it needs to be earned."

Edyis breaks into a wide grin. Like she needed another excuse to stay in the records room, still her pleasure at Giorda's decision is measureable and painted plainly upon her features. "I promise not to let you down Ma'am." And with her words Edyis feels a sense of tremendous hope and acomplishment. The first chapter of the rest of her life was just begining.