Difference between revisions of "Logs:Corrupting the Youth"

Living Cavern, High Reaches Weyr

Stalactites hang high above this enormous cavern like a jagged chandelier or an inversion of the Spires themselves, but shadows cling to them instead of light. Below lie great tables arranged in rows, each large enough to serve a fighting wing, while in the nooks and alcoves around the cavern's edge sit more sensibly-sized tables, from six- and eight-seaters down to intimate spots for just a couple of diners. The only really open space is around the kitchen entrance, smelling of food and rarely quiet, and by the nearby serving tables with their long buffet of the day's offerings.

Tapestries on the smooth walls -- some faded and others newly woven -- only slightly mute the sea of sound when a meal is in full swing, but they add cheerfulness augmented by the glowlight from wall sconces and the centerpieces of each table. Still, shadows always creep along the ceiling and into the mouths of the exits -- the myriad small hallways at one end of the cavern and, at the other, the twisting tunnel to the bowl near an array of coathooks and and hatracks -- and late at night, when the glows are allowed to dim, the chamber can seem very dark indeed.

The day is just too lovely to be inside, but you still have to take time for food. Rhaelyn hovers at the serving table, eyeing the late selections with a slightly upcurled nose. After a moment of trying she catches the eye of one of the kitchen helpers, "Can you go back and get me one of those thick slices of bread and dip it right into some melted butter? Just toast it up, cover it with cheese and bring it out to me." Not giving the poor lad a chance to respond, the rider goes sauntering off to have a seat and wait for lunch to be delivered.

Toren comes in from the beautiful day and he is humming along. He has his guitar case on his back as he was outside playing for anyone that would listen. He moves over towards the serving table, "That sounds good but I'll just have a cold wherry sandwich please." He smiles at the server and he grabs a mug for his juice. "Hi I'm Toren."

It may be a nice day out but E'gin just got back from sweeps and he's hungry. He isn't far enough behind Rhaelyn that he misses her special ordered lunch, commenting on it only by giving an eye roll to the approaching Toren. "Hey, Toren." Is offered as he allows the server to put whatever they want on his plate, he is rewarded with an disclosed substance that looks like all the leftovers from the sevenday piled into one concoction, still they give him an extra scoop. An eye brow is raised as Toren introduces himself to the back of the greenrider. "Come on, Toren, we'll go sit with her. I'll introduce you over there." And with jumbled meal in hand he find his way to an empty chair at Rhaelyn's table. "Hey."

Rhaelyn removes a small bundle of hides from the pouch laying in the chair beside hers. If she hears Toren's introduction, the greenrider only offers a jaded 'look' in response. Her fingers start to work at the first of the hide rolls as her table is invaded. She looks from one to the other before rolling her eyes, "I've got work to do." She says, trying to block their view with the hide, rattling it importantly.

Toren was trying to be friendly, but the green had turned away just after he got his greeting out. He looks to E'gin and nods, "Sure sounds good to me." He completely misses the look that he got from Rhaelyn and he nods, "Sounds like a plan to me." He goes after E'gin, "So when are we going to that bar...you know the one you told me about."

E'gin's response to Rhaelyn's comment? A raising of both eyebrows, "But surely, meeting Toren would be important too, as he is a visitor to the weyr." A little bit a stretch. "Toren this is Rhaelyn, Rhaelyn, Toren." Shoulder shaking with laughter E'gin's squinting eyes meet Toren, "Oh, yah. We're going to go down to Tillek, we'll get you down to one of those sailor bars. You'll make a pretty mark in there. When are you free next?"

Rhaelyn doesn't know Toren was trying to be friendly, or maybe she did. Impossible to tell from the flat expression that peaks out from around the side of her reading. "I think we met before...he was playing some song in the night hearth." She spares the younger of the pair a searching look, daring him to claim it wasn't him before slowly looking back to E'gin, "You're taking boys off drinking now? tsk." Another ruffle of her hide before laying it out on the table infront of her.

Toren ums softly, "Today this afternoon I have the whole afternoon to myself and well I talked to my father and he thought it was a great idea for me." He nods, "We certainly might have I do try to play there." He hmms, "Is there something wrong with going out drinking?" Toren says, "You could come too if you wanted too."

"I'm not taking him drinking." E'gin comments off-handedly, "I'm taking him to practice his craft, in a new environment. I'm helping this young man expand his horizons and his career." Heaping bite of food is shoved into his mouth as he listens to Toren speak, "Toofda?" He finishes swallowing, "Today?" Blink. "Well I supposed so, can't stay out to late though, we have drills in the morning." He shoves the non-pronged side of his fork toward his wingmate. "Yah, Rhaelyn." He tone indicates he has no concern she'll actually take the younger boy up on his offer, "You should come."

Rhaelyn sniffs, "I'm /sure/ you are." Amusement hints in her tone as she looks from one to the other knowingly. "Expanding his horizons....indeed." A small crinkle works a way into the bridge of her nose at the suggestion of her joining them, "oh no. I think three is a crowd." Twisting in her chair, she scowls towards the kitchen, "How long does it take for someone to get toasted bread ready?"

Toren smiles, "It's good to bring new songs to new places, they might not have heard some of the new ones." He shrugs, "All right. I don't know maybe they had to make the butter from scratch." He offers as a way of a joke, "If today doesn't work we can go some other time."

"I hope your food gets here soon, Rhaelyn." The brownrider stands, taking another heaping bite as he does. His mouth full he offers only a wave to the greenrider in fairwell. Jabbing his thumb out toward the bowl, he stops only to try and shove some more in his mouth before heading out. Slipping into his riding jacket, chewing, as he disappears outside.

Rhaelyn gives a little shrug of one shoulder, "Don't let me keep you." She says it in a tart tone. As E'gin gets up and makes to depart, she chews at the corner of her lip, looking as though she might say something to distract him. In silence she watches him and at last gives another shrug, "Have fun." The words don't quite match the tone though.

Toren gets up and he quickly finishes eating and drinking, "Thanks I guess we are going now." He goes to start to catch up with E'gin and he tugs on his jacket. "Wait for me."

E'gin is already readying Vysravth. The bulky brown is in the bowl, looking rather displeased about being there, beady dark eyes staring. Staring, and studying Toren as he enters from the caverns. Whatever conversation is being had between dragon and rider is kept quiet, but the brownrider does arch a brow at his dragon for a moment. The taupe brown crouches his hulking frame toward the ground. E'gin who has successfully finished chewing points at the toe loops on the chest straps. "Feet there, then just fling yourself up." Not the most helpful directions ever given for climbing on a dragon.

Toren gets his jacket on and he swallows the last bit of his meal. He moves over towards the brown and he zips himself up. "Yep I'm ready." He gets his guitar on and he grabs the straps where E'gin shows him. He puts his feet in first and them flings himself up as he tries to climb up the dragon, "Not too hard."

"This your first time?" E'gin asks, though with the way the boy climbed up the dragon he'd guess it wasn't. Practice has him settled between the brown's ridges, and strapping himself and his passenger in moments. A heavy pat is given to Vysravth's impressive mantle, his massive wings unfirl and without warning he launches himself into the sky. The trio climb quickly through the Reaches' sky, until they are out, high above the weyr, into the freedom of uninhabited air. It isn't a long flight to Tillek.

Vysravth Even in youth, this boxy brown looks like a dragon gone to seed: thick legs, bulging belly, a blunt nose matched in receding headknobs. But there's power there, too, in muscle buried under sheer bulk and a smooth-leather hide of almost uniform taupe. The color breaks only sporadically: a scuff here on the shoulder like maybe he ran into--or over--something; a little more graying around his temples; blunt lead-bullet talons on the end of each massive paw. Heavy, fibrous wings drape around his powerful shoulders, a mantle that would crush a lesser dragon. But he's a no-nonsense creature, pure physicality locked in his squared haunches and squat neck, matched with a certain ruthlessness in his small, dark eyes.

Fishercraft Hall Of course, the party leaks over to the Fishercraft Hall. But, here, it's mostly drunk fishermen on their way back to their Crafthall and the occasional vendor who wasn't approved to sell in the courtyard-- and a periodic apprentice looking wistfully at all the goings-on, undoubtedly forbidden to get as drunk as the rest of the party. Throughout the summer, the Tillekian weather remains cool with frequent, lingering fog. In the mornings, the fog can be pea-soup thick, often dissipating considerably by afternoon only to return in the evenings. On clear days, bright sun and breezes are usual.

Toren carefully climbs down off of the brown and he smiles at the dragon, "Thank you for the ride." He grins at E'gin, "Thank you for taking me, so where is the bar we are going to?" He asks with wide eyed harper boy wonder.

Watching the boy a moment of regret passes over E'gin's face, "You sure you want to do this?" He asks even as he his pointing at a wooden shack not to far from the hall itself. Tired and dirty looking men passing in and out of its door.

Toren looks over at E'gin, "Do you think we shouldn't? I mean do you think they won't like my music?" He wonders, "You suggested it E'gin if you don't think it'd be a good idea or think it would be dangerous I know how some bars are, this does look pretty rough."

E'gin frowns thoughtfully at the boy, the boy's father did okay it. "Alright, but if it gets to be overwhelming let me know." With that he heads off toward the bar, as they approach a worn sign reads, "The Dirty Dolphin". Inside, this seaside bar is already crowded. A dive, even constantly crowded, the place isn't well kept. No need to make the place look nice if the masses will come and spend their marks. The wood walls themselves look barely able to stand, chunks missing where bottles, or heads, collided with the establishment. Even on cooler days the air is damp and heavy, much like the clientele. The perpetual odor of sweating bodies, and other things, hangs in the air prove a more accurate decoration than the few things that lie broken on shelves. The men that drink here are grizzled, crude, not prone to suffering fools. Most, freshly into port, haven't bothered to bathe they are here to meet the other needs of their bodies. Food, lots of it, greasy and heavy, ale and whiskey abound. There isn't a sober man in the place and they smash their cups against the tables as they whistle for the topless women who dance between their tables and on the stage. Waiting for Toren to enter after him he grins softly, "So, what'll you have?"

Toren nods, 'All right, if they start throwing stuff at me I've had enough." He follows after E'gin inside and he looks around. His eyes almost pop out of their head as he sees the topless women and he looks at E'gin, "oh I don't drink til after I sing."

"Well if you are going to sing tonight, you'll have to run it by Ashter." E'gin points towards the mountain of a man behind the bar. His body rounded from drinking too much ale doesn't hide the massive amount of muscles underneath and he stands a head taller than any of the sailors in the bar. "Or today, we could feel the place out, see what they like to hear first. Have to know your audience right?" The boy's popping eyes have several men looking their way and chuckling. "Haven't you seen a naked lady before?" The brownrider asks, as he waves a hand to the bartender who lifts a drink toward him. They know what he likes, clearly not the rider's first time here. "Come on, I'll buy you a whiskey."

Toren nods, "That might be a good idea. Well yes in the bathing cavern it's hard not to see a naked woman about but none like this." He gives a polite smile, "Whiskey sounds good I've had that before." He smiles at the other sailors and he gives polite nods, "I bet they like songs of the sea. I know a lot about them."

Saddled up at the bar, E'gin lifts a finger to order another glass, handing one of the delivered ones to Toren he grins. "Well yah. Women in the bathing caverns are trying to get themselves clean, the women here are trying to get something else." Like tips. E'gin takes a sip, his face contorting at the harshness of the drink pain, but not a bad feeling. Eyes falling to the lad again he grins, "Let me ask you something. If you had to do the same back breaking chore over and over again for half a turn, you never got to see anyone else or do anything else and then you guy maybe two days rest before you had to do it all over again -" He pauses dramatically, "Would you want to hear songs about it for those two days?"

Toren hmms, "Good point about the song." He sips the whiskey that was ordered for him. "If there was a another singer I could gauge what they like based on what he plays. They might not, but there are songs about sailors, brave songs, meant to inspire and some sad songs too, but I think more happier up beat songs might work here, or I might just go up and ask requests that way they can tell me what they want to listen to."

"I'm not saying no sailor songs, what I'm saying is these guys have been on a boat for months. They are here to eat, get drunk and stare at naked women." One such woman sashays by, winking at E'gin as she passes and offering Toren's cheek a little pinch if he isn't fast enough to move. "Who's the baby 'Gin?" She chuckles, but doesn't wait for an answer her tray of drinks lifted easily over heads as she disappears back into the crowd. "Up beat might be good. Anything naughty." Lips curling up on the sides, "Yah, you could do requests, but make sure you know what they might ask for. Not the kind of place where you want to piss off your listeners. This ain't a recital at the hall. But ask Ashter, give it ago." The barkeep, seemingly drawn by his name, looms over the counter, "Ask me what?" His eyes locked on the apprentice.

Toren does get his cheek pinched. "My name is Toren, I'm a harper apprentice. Do you know what kinda songs these guys like to hear." He hmms, "I have a great memory for songs, I'm sure there are some that I don't know, but you are right I won't want to get them angry." Of course all this is said to the woman's breasts as he just stares at them.

Luckily for Toren, or maybe not, the retreating woman was followed by a similarly bare-breasted woman, with breasts enough to be oogled. "I can help you with your song, Sug'. You don't even have to sing, if you can just play something we can dance to, but if you do sing make it about something gross or something naked." The boy's center of attention is given a little shake, "You like 'em? If you got some money you can ask them a few more questions." She winks. E'gin, meanwhile, chuckles quietly to himself. The bartender grumbles gruffly at being ignored but before he can say anything someone is hollering at him for a drink.

Toren nods, "Gotcha I know plenty of them and probably some they haven't heard before that my fellow apprentices made up, or I could just play I'm a fair hand at that. I'm sure they might not want to hear my voice no matter how well trained." He gives a big smile, "Thanks, but that's all my questions." He looks back to the bartender as he's going off, "Sorry about that I got distracted there, I'm an apprentice harper and I'd like to play for your customers. Is there any songs you'd like me to play or not play?"

"She didn't really mean ques..." E'gin trails off and waves a hand at Toren, "Nevermind. Nevermind." He shrugs at the waitress who after a brief shrug back wanders off. Ashter returns with another whiskey for E'gin, in time to hear the boy's question. "You want to sing in my bar?" A look of disbelief cross the large man's face, his bushy eyebrows pulling down, an intense gaze settled on the apprentice. "If you mess up they'll buy more to throw at you, if you mess up a lot they'll tear you to shreds." The man expression lacks any quality of humor. "If I try and stop them from tearing you up, well, that'll cost me money. I won't lose money. You got it kid?" His whiskered face draws up as his arms fold across his barreled chest. "You think you can handle them?" Somewhere towards the stage a man's fist connects with another man's nose, the crunch can be heard in the momentary pause in noise as the crowd admires the punch.

Toren nods, "Sure it will help to broaden my horizons and you can charge me the standard fee. I don't intend to mess up." He says as he's bristling with confidence." He hears the crunch and his smile wobbles a little before he takes another drink of liquid courage, "If you'll have me play I'll play."

"The standard fee it is then, and you keep any tips you earn, same as the girls." Ashter grins a little beneath his beard at his comparison. E'gin laughs, "He'll probably need something else to take up there with him, a beer. Oh, and make it in a big, heavy glass. That'll make him look, you know, tougher." The brownrider's comments are to the bartender, but his gaze settles back on Toren. "Alright, if you get into too much trouble, run." A teasing grin is directed to the boy.

Toren smiles as he watches the girls move along and he holds out his hand to Ashter, "Agreed." After he shakes hands he picks up his guard and he waits for the beer to come. He'll go up and he will smile at all the sailors, 'Hello my name is Toren and I shall be playing for you. Before I start would anyone like any requests for songs they'd like me to sing or play?"

The crowd hoots and hollers as Toren takes to the stage, a few whistles and one yells, "When'd you let babies start playing here?" Ruder comments are shouted about the boy wanting nurse on one of the shirtless ladies, or not being old enough to know what to do with a woman. E'gin leans back against the bar, his arms propping him up as he watches the scene unfold. "Think he'll be okay?" He asks the bar's owner, who only grunts, unreassuringly, in response. The invitation for requests brings a round of rowdy song titles, some dealing with captains who soil their pants and others about women with soiled reputations.

Toren doesn't mind the taunting as he takes it all with a smile. He strums his guitar and he proceeds into the first one that he heard called out. A very rowdy tune about a captain who would sail any sea, take any job, even sailed in a hurricane but only if he had his brown pants. The big punch line of the song is this hero of sailors wouldn't sail without his brown pants and he admitted it to a cabin boy who was bold enough to ask him when the captain was drunk that he needed his brown pants cause when all the crazy adventures happened he's always soil his britches.

A few men in the bar have stopped their card games to listen. A couple even chuckle. No one throws anything at the boy so it's a good start by all accounts. E'gin grins and gives a little shrug to Ashter, "He'll be fine. You think I'd bring him here if he wouldn't be?" A change of tune from the last question the brownrider asked. One of the bare-breasted ladies shouts, "Oh sing us a love song!" This is quickly decried by the men, who beat their mugs against the table in protest, clearly some sort of tradition of dissenting in the bar, a piece of a rotting unidentifiable fruit is lobbed at her. "She's new." Ashter comments dryly, as if he doesn't expect her to last long. "But she's cute." E'gin offers in her favor.

Toren grins at the men, "Oh I'll sing a love song all right." He gives a wink to the men as he starts to strum a song. He starts to sing about all the women he loves, they have red heads and blond hair and brunettes, the big breasted women and women with itty bitty titties, but the women he loves the most are bowlegged women cause he loves to swim between their legs.

At first the men begin to groan, there is a growing restlessness in the air, but as the song reaches the dirtier parts the men being to cheer. Slaps on the back and clinking glasses mark celebration as their favorite kind of women are called out. Some of the women who have been on the job for a turn or two take a curtsey as they are described. The men reward them with tips, and tips for Toren too. Ashter wipes his counter happily, humming along. As the men continue to hoot and whistle the large man slips E'gin a free drink. The brownrider gives a nod to the 'tender.

Toren finishes the song about women and he switches it up as he sings a song about sailors and how when he grows up he wants to be one. It's a little childish but it's gotta good beat and on the fly Toren changes the song. He starts to talk about gutting fish and sailing long days and mean captians, but the song gets better as he talks about ladies and sex and coming home to port. He ends the song with the same way he started it, "Oh I wanna be a sailor....maybe." He winks to the crowd.

Clearly, Toren has endeared himself to the men enough that they don't seem to mind the childish nature of the song, especially when he starts to talk about fish entrails and long days. There is even a shout or two of confirmation. When the song is over one burly old man, who has seen more than his fair share of days at sea, stands up and limping over to the stage offers Toren a heavy slap on the back, and a hefty tip. Before giving the lad an almost toothless grin and heading back to his seat. "Well he's won your boys over." E'gin grins at Ashter, and the towering man slaps a mark on the counter, grumbling under his breath about being cheated. The brownrider slides the mark off the counter and into his pocket with a chuckle. Before waving a hand at Toren to call him back over.

Toren smiles at the old man, "Thank you very much sir." He bows to the elderly sailor and he bows to the men, "Thank you all for letting me play, please enjoy your drinks and don't forget to tip the lovely ladies!" He gives a wave as he heads off stage after picking up and tips thrown at him and the untouched beer which he does now take a drink of. He heads back over to E'gin getting patted on the way and he plays his way over towards the bar and he finishes a strumming when he gets to E'gin, "So how did you think I did?"

"How did you do?" E'gin asks as he slides out of his stool. Pulling his jacket off the back, he looks at Ashter, "How did he do?" The bartender grunts heavily, unwilling to acknowledge out loud that the young boy did better than most of his regulars but he does look up and give a lopsided grin for just a second and a wink to the lad, "I'll have E'gin let you know if we can use you again." Slipping back into his jacket, the brownrider throws a hand up in goodbye, "Well I'd better get him back, past his bed time, you know." A few of the men surrounding them laugh, but it isn't aggressive like before. No the boy receives the insulting laughter that seamen share with their 'mates, a few even raise their glasses to wave goodnight.

Who is E'gin to deny his bread winner a good time after such a performance. Settling his jacket back around his stool, he pats the one next to him, "Alright, then. We'll have a few more. Guess I'll be spending that mark you just gave me." He grins at Ashter. "Alright, Toren, you seemed like such a meek kid. Where did you learn all those songs?" And the bartender brings E'gin and Toren another beer, and another, and the two sit and talk the night away, making friends with sailors passing through and sharing stories.