Logs:Musing
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| RL Date: 10 April, 2015 |
| Who: Ketsl |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Late night work leaves plenty of time to think about one's place |
| Where: Woodcrafter Workroom, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 21, Month 6, Turn 37 (Interval 10) |
| Weather: Who knows he hasn't seen the sky in two days |
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The workroom set aside for the Woodcrafters is one of the largest, taking
up a large section of the interior side of the corridor. This means that
there are no windows, but with high ceilings and an impressive array of
glows, it comes across as light and open in a way that it otherwise might
not. Long workbenches line the wall closest to the door, with stools lined
up to allow space for several people to work at one time. Cupboards and
racks attached to the wall above the benches provide storage for tools and
supplies, all in ready reach. Beyond the benches, in the far corner, a
large alcove provides storage for wood both finished and unfinished.
The rest of the room is more open, though it has been well-filled with
larger equipment and workstations dedicated to more specific tasks.
There's a soap-making station at the back, complete with a permanent,
built-in heat source; the other workstations are more focused upon
traditional woodcrafting, with areas set aside for staining, for sawing,
and so on. The daylight hours of the woodcrafter's workroom are filled with the cacophony of industry: full logs are dropped onto tabletops to be sectioned, the scrape of saws on wood, hammering, apprentices and journeymen alike yelling to be heard over the din. A constant backdrop under that is the harsh, uneven shhk shhk of sanding, the clatter of rare metal fittings and the sweep of brooms. There has been no pause in recent days as first the cave-in and then the fire have made necessary the heaviest and loudest of the work, apprentices pushed out to their beds only when found dozing against wood beams they should rightfully be moving. Relying solely on glows for their lighting means that the crafters needn't stop when the sun goes down, however. It is when the rest of the weyr is sleeping that the scattering of journeymen and masters settle down to work at the backlog of smaller orders: chairs and tables, wooden figures commissioned for turnday presents, toys and tools and soap and jewellery. Now there is only the gentle rhythm of careful tapping and scrap of wood curls falling to the floor. Its soothing. In the corner sits Ketsl, a glow basket hooked closer to provide extra lighting as he hunches over his work. The bench around him is littered with thin blades and a little brazer of coals pulled from the fire is house to a few of them. Kept carefully to his other elbow is a sectioned basket; one side filled with a rough assortment of small wooden baubles -- orbs and cubes and few flat oblongs -- will the other side holds a smaller number of completed beads and pendant shapes. There is comfort in the familiarity of this work for Ketsl. His arrival in High Reaches had been preceded by disaster and it has struck again quickly in the form of the bazaar fire. In the sudden death of a weyrwoman and the injury of so may others. The few acquaintances he's met seem to have spent less time in their own caverns than in the infirmary. For himself, it is only the workload that has been really effected and he feels a momentary flash of shame that he isn't more emotionally hurt by the tragedies. He isn't blissfully unaware of the melancholy around him but he just doesn't have the personal connections yet. Nor is it, he muses ruefully, really my nature to be so glum. Ketsl rubs his thumb over the face of the bead in hand and gives a small, sharp huff to work away any dust still left in carving. With his other hand he drops the little blade he'd used to set in the floral design and gathers one of the brazer-heated tools in it's stead. Working quickly he begins to burn depth into the tiny leaves and petals that make of the bead's surface. Maybe it is a good thing I'm here. Ketsl's distance from the situations makes seeing and acting a little easier. He's sent a few of the other woodcrafter's to the infirmary himself when he's noticed a too-dazed expression or a journeyman's stubborn work has left fire-blistered hands with stained bandages. His good cheer too, seems to catch -- at least among the younger apprentices. The journeyman flicks the finished bead into the basket, grinning as he starts rooting through the unfinished side for a similarly shaped orb. Maybe I could check on those three I met in the infirmary the other day too. Just as soon as I can weedle my way out into the sunlight. That'd be nice. |
Comments
Edyis (17:05, 10 April 2015 (EDT)) said...
I loved this, it is always interesting to see other perspectives and even more so when it comes to seeing an inner look at a character
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