Page 120: Makeshift Apprentice
Makeshift Apprentice
Summary: Eyrian, known as Moira scores a job with the not too shabby tanner, Einion
Date: 12 Nov 2011
Related Logs: TBD
Einion Eyrian 
Tanner's Shop
Nov 12 288

The traffic in town is as it always is— busy in spurts, though the chatter has come down to more mutterings and utterances. It's a community that feels that something is on the way, but what that 'something' is is as of yet unnamed, and unknown.
Within the tanning stall of one of the local leatherworkers, Einion has hides stretched and works on one, peeling the fur away. His arm rises and falls, covering himself in tan fur as he peels off that top layer.
Pausing in his work, he peers at a spot on the hide before he reaches out to touch it, testing it. "Damn.." It's a weak spot, a thinner spot than the surrounding hide. He spits out some fur and turns around to put his blade down.

Steps bring her somewhat uncertainly forward, the red dye having faded from her hair and leaving the deep brown as Eyrian pushes it back behind her ear. The clatter of workers and passing figures drown her for a moment, but it is the audible curse that brings the woman closer, simple garb and a small sack upon her shoulder, she can smell the hides far before she can see Einion.

The hair being spit makes her smirk and as he turns back around, she hovers and hmmms in thoughtfulness before speaking up once he is turned back around. "Be looking for some help at all?"

Einion looks up, his face now only slightly covered with tan buck fur. Spitting out a couple more hairs, he wipes his forearm against his lips before he exhales.. and catches the smirk. Good naturedly, the tanner exhales in a put-out sound. "If you want to sweep up the fur..". He's not serious, though.
Looking around at his shop, then back at the young woman, his brows rise in askance. "What can you do?"

There is a huff of a laugh at his mention of sweeping before she tilts her head and considers it. Eyrian hmmms, her lips twisting up to one corner before she answers. "Well…I can't tan a hide, but it's obvious you have your hands full. I can sweep, that is certain, change out water, do simple things.." She hesitates and then laughs a little. "And other things that are probably less helpful, but I am a fast learner." SHe adds with a glint in her gaze before a hand lifts to rest on her hip. "What is it that you need doing around here?" A curious look at his fur flecked face and then down at the hide he is working on.

"Well, these need to be soaked as soon as the fur is off." In what, he's not telling. "Can you tend fires? Boiling dyes? I don't expect mixing, but I do need someone to tend them," while he's occasionally called away for whim (as far as he's concerned).
Einion leans against a frame in which a hide hangs. "What's your name?" His expression is blank when trying to recall if he's seen her around or not.. "Who's your family?" They all know everyone else.

"I can tend them well enough, served at the Rockcliffe for a few months back near the Roost.." Eyrian indicates to the west with her hand and then as he leans over to ask of her name, she tilts her head. "Moira is the name…I am not from around here. Fear you wouldn't know my family. From around the Flint Cliffs…" She explains.

The bag is moved, set down to her side as it slides from her shoulder with an audible 'whumpf'. "I can cook to a certain degree too…not saying it's anything to be joyful about."

"Well, Moira. A pleasure. Einion Wycliffe." He smiles and winces, picking another hair from his mouth. He chuckles and offers, "Believe it or not, not the worst part of the process.."
Straightening and brightening, the tanner nods. "Can't pay much. Taxes are going up so it's a little harder to sell, but around here, should be enough. Copper stag a day." Should be good for a couple of meals, anyway?

"I will believe that when I see it.." Moira says at the reference of the worst part. The woman nods to the mention of taxes. "Not many can afford much but the basic needs these days….meals are really all I need to survive..and a place to sleep." She hazards a hopeful turn of her voice on that as he offers to employ her.

"I don't expect much, the floor, just anything to keep me out of the way…don't much like traveling on my own." For obvious reasons.

"My mother and sister have a farm not far. You'd be welcome there, I'm sure." There's no doubt in Einion's tones that the wander would be welcome. "You might be some help to them, too. Farm to tend and the harvesting is just done. Now's the time to tin and cure. Before the snows." A slow nod is given, and he adds, "I'll still need you here, too. So I'll let mum know to give you a room." Give, not rent.
Pointing to a corner where nothing has gathered as of yet, Einion turns about to get back to work with taking the fur off. "You can put your things there for the time being. I'll escort you out to the farm just before dinner. I think she's got a stew up for tonight."

Luck. Moira does have some of it and when he speaks of actual room and possibly more than a floor, she can not help but smile. "I will do what I can, wasn't expectin' as much but…I will take it gladly and give for it too. At the mention of working at the tanning with him, she looks about and considers it, the smell and all. Something to get used to.

Hefting up her back, the barefooted woman shifts forward and sets the bag down. "What is there I can do for you now? Sweep?" It is said wryly with a bit of a grin taking the corner of her mouth.

Einion raises his hand, with blade, and sweeps down a path, the fur beginning to fly again. A smirk rises, though when he turns, he's starting to get covered with the tan hair once again. "Start one of the cauldrons. There's water in the cistern out back, and you'll find kindling.."
As he goes back to work, he continues conversation, though he's willing to raise his voice to be heard. "After this is scraped, we have to process it." Another reason why he's visiting the farm tonight— dung. "When you've got the fire going, yes.. sweep." He pauses, then, "Thank you."

There is no hesitation after some instruction and Moira is moving, begin bringing in the water to the cauldron that is waiting to one side. A bit of water covers her when she returns, catching his 'thank you'. Her dark eyes gleam a bit and she tips the bucket, with the wash of water into the cauldron. "Thank me when I take no pay…" She says. "You offered me a place to sleep and pay…I really can't go and deny you what little I can do." She lowers the bucket to her side and goes out back again to the cistern to continue to fill and empty, fill and empty.

"So why aren't you a farmer than?" She asks from the cistern suddenly. Curious little blackbird.

Up and down now, his blade goes, the fur flying. Now, Einion doesn't seem to mind the wor, the strokes coming naturally.
"Father decided I should do something else. No shame in farming, but having a trade that could go hand in hand is good for the family. Now, it's the leatherworking that supports them, though the farm does well enough in keeping us and a couple other families fed."
As he moves around the hide, it's obvious that he favours one leg, but it doesn't inhibit his work. One hide finished, he pulls it down and puts it to the side. "My turn," though his attention goes to the next hide. "Why are you travelling alone? What brings you to the 'Bridge?"

A few more buckets of water and she doesn't answer him while she is heaving one in. Moira props it up on the edge of the cauldron and then looks over to him for a moment. The water is tipped and rushes in to join the rest, now full enough to her liking. "No family…so travelling is a matter of trust…I don't trust many. And I come this way…because the tariffs are squeezing the life out of the Roost. Thought there may be more opportunities here.."

While she speaks, she sets the bucket aside and gathers the kindling to begin building the fire to heat the water. To one knee she goes, placing the wood with care and setting the kindling beneath in a generous pile. "And are things better here?" She asks him.

No family? Einion's hand pauses in the stroke and he turns to look at Moira again, his brows rising. Not so odd, what with the war still in mind of some people. Hasn't been a generation yet since, so..
"More opportunities here than the Roost?" He barks a soft laugh and shakes his head as he gets back to his work. "Better here, I don't know. If I've travelled to the Roost a handful of times, that'd be a lot. I've heard about the tariffs, obviously, but also have heard they've got dragons lining the roads there." He shrugs, not missing a stroke, the hair flying freely now. "Better here? Depends on who you ask and when. Some'd say aye, some'd tell you stories of how it was and how it should be. But those are the ones in the inns, taking the time away from honest work."
Stepping back from his work to check the lines. Running a thumb over the blade, Einion clucks at the dulling knife and exhales in a sigh. "As for me, I'm not one to carry tales where they shouldn't be."

Striking at the kindling with flint and stone to start it, Moira takes a few moments to actually get the thing to spark properly. A few more clacks of the two together and it takes, crackling along the kindling and slowly working up to a flame with more hunger. "Tales are not so bad…" She says and rises, dusting her skirts off and then looking for a broom of sorts. But she hesitates, setting dark eyes on him as she continues. "They give life that hope that is often lost..the wonder that not many will ever see. No harm in stories or long as you know that is what they are…they can't do any harm than."

Catching sight of the handle of the broom, she moves towards it, dragging the bristles of the worn broom along the floor to begin the gathering of the wayward fur. "Not don't go shedding any of that this way…aim the other or we may be here all night.."

"Tales don't put food on a table, or 'stars in your pocket." Einion shrugs and takes a whetstone to sharpen his blade, the stokes sounding a metallic *whir* as it slides against the hone.
He chuckles soon after with her quip, and is unapologetic, though the amusement comes through in his tones. "A couple more hides, then I'm done with this.. and will get the mixture ready for the next. Your cauldron there'll be a dye." Green. "Know anything about dyes?"

"I know colors..but dyes…" Moira leaves the talk rest when concerned with the stories and tales. There is a hunger in that dark gaze, as if to prove him wrong, but the motion of sweeping is kept up. The swoosh of her stones. "A couple more and you shall look the part of an animal…" She watches it gather about him and makes a clucking sound.

"But dyes yes….a little. But not enough I fear….but as I said, quick to learn." She admits.

A glance down is spared before he looks up and over at his employ, a chuckle sounding again. "You sound like my sister. And I threaten to cure a wolf's hide just to scare her one day."
The knife is finished, and he limps back to the hides, ready to work on the next. He keeps his voice low, "Arroooo.." as the knife slides down the hide, the hair coming off in *whoofs* again.
"Dye," Einion's tones are a mix of conversational and instructional. "I have some sorrel roots in the cask over there," he takes a moment to point in the direction before continuing. "When the water starts to boil, gather a handful of the roots and cut them up and put them into the water. We'll simmer then steep it over night." He smiles at that, "If nothing else, you'll learn dyes here."

"A poor trade is one that teaches you nothing.." Moira intones in response. The arrooo did make her smile and a soft laugh to follow. "At least you enjoy what you do…at least it seems that way. Many do not." But at his instruction, she slows the motion of the broom in order to take it in, following the point of the knife in the direction he indicates. She gives him a quick nod and then passes the broom again over to gather the most wide spread of the fur towards the gathering pile about him.

"It's a wonder you can breathe.." SHe murmurs and than looks to his work, watching a moment as he passes knife to hide.

"If you work out well, I'll feel that you can be left here during my call to serve the Lord." There are the weekly levies, after all. It means that he doesn't get any work done. "You'll be helping me in keeping things going as I don't have an apprentice at the moment." No one can pay the apprentice fee at the moment. "Even keeping the fires going for dye, or taking orders for goods, or taking in hides to tan."
He makes quick work of the next hide, the pile of hair at his feet, covering his legs and arms. He smiles again, showing teeth as he twists around, "I'll be spitting and coughing hair for the next day."

"I can keep fires going, though I would fear splitting a hide with that knife, I will not lie.." She admits and gives a long look at the fur that keeps going and going, sloughing off with the passes of the knife. Moira wets her lips and shakes her head. "You really should wear a kerchief over your" She hooks the handle of the broom against her shoulder and lifts both hands to undo the worn cloth from her hair, drawing it down and quickly fanning it out before taking a step towards him.

Setting the broom to lean to the side, she holds the cloth up, waiting for the okay to give it a go.

"No hides. Not for a while. Just taking them in and saying 'Einion'll be back to pay you after the levy is done for the day'. They know where I am and when I'll be back."
Glancing back, Einion sees Moira approaching with kerchief in hand. He shakes his head, a hand up, "It's okay. You may need that later. I still have to collect the mixture to start the process of getting this ready to take a dye." Manure. Dung. Shit. "I'm almost done here anyway. When you've got the water going, and the root in, we can leave for mother's. She'll meet you, we'll eat.. and you settle in and I'll be back to finish up here for the night." He doesn't sleep at the farmhouse. Just the women. "You'll have a ride back tomorrow morning."

Hmmming with a wry brow, she tucks the kerchief in along the waist of her skirts. Moira grasps for the broom, moving it over towards the cauldron. Looking in at the water, she shakes her head. "Water will be boiling soon, just not yet.." But might as well start cutting. She leaves the sweeping for now and then gathers the handful he told her to.

An extra knife, more than likely for skinning is pulled down and she begins to chop the sorrel finely enough, keeping silent in her work. But she then speaks up. "Never time to yourself..I am guessing, other than your nights.." She doesn't even look up.

"Time to myself?" The question is asked as if it's a foreign thought. "Evenings, aye. When I take my meals, an ale perhaps with friends, then turn in. Morning comes with the sun's rise and there's work to be done." Einion doesn't sound terribly put out about his life, however. "Orders to fill, hides to prepare. When I'm away from here, I'm in the field hunting, or in the field for his Lordship." Not that he's thrilled about doing that. Still, it's his lot and he performs his duty.
"Still willing to put the time in here?" Twisting around, Einion's brows rise in the question. "The farm gives more time to yourself if that's what you prefer. But it's away from town, so travel is by cart."

"You hired me, I am willing.." Moira says and leaves the items she is done with for the moment in favor of checking the water. "Besides, news comes to the town, not the country. I am a curious little bird and though you may not like stories..I do." She grins over at him and then lowers her hand to hover near the water surface, quick to pull it back with the feel of heat as a few bubbles rise up and signal the water is close.

Gathering up what is left of the sorrel, she cups it carefully and than dumps it into the water. An old battered wooden paddle, smoothed by constant use is taken up and she begins to stir.

Einion starts back at the hide, and is quickly finished with the last as the water starts its boiling and Moira tosses the roots in. "We'll let that boil.. and I'll bring the cart around so we can have dinner." Stepping away from his work, he places his knife on a work bench and starts brushing the hair from his hair, arms, clothes.. and spits some.
"Stew tonight. Gather your things and lets go before the sun goes down."

Food. That just sounds good all around. Moira pulls the wood free and steps back, setting it aside and nodding to him. SHe has little to her and the small pack is gathered up quickly to her shoulder. Ready she is. Simple as that. "I can't say I am not excited for dinner…though I do hope your mother and sisters do not mind the extra mouth to feed.." They are going to be showing up unexpectedly. Fur. There, on her foot and she notices some on her arm. Ugh. She brushes at it swiftly and follows him to their transport, leaving the water to boil and hopefully -most- of the fur behind, but by the looks of it, Einion carries most.