Damage Control (Crylon)

[Shiress]

10th Day
Summer 518

Nearly a season pass and nearly all of Ravok still bore the marks left in the wake of the strange ice storm. The Lark Estate had fared better than most structures, but the storm had left its mark on the slave house, as Shiress had come to call it, also. This had given way to the slave being left at the Lark Estate instead of hauled off to the Floating Garden. Still, though, her duties remained numerous. One benefit of being inside the walls of the Estate was the rare absence of her Shadow guard, Kylar. Oddly, the slave missed his presence.

Shiress and house slave, come friend, Niya, sat on the floor of one of the many slave work rooms, their legs crossed. Niya, a young blonde girl with vibrant, bright blue eyes sat in front of the older slave, her knees a hand span from touching Shiress's. On one side of the slave was a large mound of white, crisp bed sheets, towels, and bathing clothes. On the other side, spread around in various neatly, folded piles were the results of their labor.

Shiress, having played the role of a house slave this day, wore the garb of one; a simple, yet comfortable light yellow, cotton shift, belted high around her waist. Her long, chestnut hair was pulled up along the sides with pins, as the rest of her long mane cascaded down the length of her back. The slave was taking full advantage of playing house slave, and not missing her normal tight bun and gods awful toga one tiny bit.

Lost within the folding of a particularly awkward shaped sheet, Shiress failed to hear the warden's summons from the doorway. Niya, jabbing a finger into Shiress's leg, indicated the direction of the doorway with her eyes. Shiress felt a jolt go through her. That whip the woman carried around with her at all times was not just for show. Shiress stood in place (no slave was to approach the slavewarden, unless told to do so) silently waiting instruction, eyes diverted.

The woman glared her aggravation on the older slave, her tongue sliding over teeth behind closed, thin lips, before she finally spoke. ""I have something you are to do." The warden stepped aside, head tilting to indicate the man standing just behind her. "This man is to assess the damage from last season's storm and you are to be his guide."

"Yes, Ma'am." replied Shiress, glancing to the dark haired man with a small smile.

With a wordless nod toward the stranger, the warden marched off, leaving Shiress to approach the man in an awkward silence, not quite sure of what to do. Smoothing down the front of her dress, she cleared her throat, figuring an introduction wouldn't hurt.

"My name is Shiress." she said, flashing her teeth with a quick smile. "where would you like to begin?"

A

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[Crylon Stonecraft]

10 Summer 518 Crylon had not been in Ravok long before he had heard of the large more well known families. Vague whispers, nothing substantive, nothing clear or exact. Passed words about them said around him which told him little beyond that there was something to tell. So when he was told to come to the Lark Estate and it was mentioned it was one of these vaguely mentioned families, he knew it would not be the same as the other buildings and family homes of more well to do merchants and such. How it would be different, or who the Lark family was specifically, Crylon did not know. But surely knowing that there was something to know was knowing something in and of itself? The idea confused even Crylon who had the notion himself, leaving him at a loss for information. When he had arrived and stepped off the Ravasola the building itself told him something in terms of scale, material, and design. Even among the fancier districts he had worked in, this building stood apart both literally and materially. Tugging at his shirt for a moment, Crylon began to head towards the door where he was greeted by a slave and brought inside. The restrictive cloth tugged at him oddly as he moved, and he half felt like tearing it off, but his employer had made it clear he was expected to wear it as part of his "uniform" so to speak whenever doing their business. Instead he weathered the oppressive garment, knowing he could take it off the moment he got home. Still it was not so bad, as he had at least found one with short sleeves which let his arms breath properly, only his torso and shoulders stifled under the garment. His bared flesh and its coloring was in stark contrast to the humans about him, as was the silver veins crossing his left onyx arm even more so than the rest of his body. The member of the household guiding him seemed somewhat suspicious of him, occasionally glancing at Crylon and especially his odd arm when he thought Crylon was not looking. In the pack on his back he held the book he took notes in, and the various materials for writing. As they walked along Crylon noticed several armed guards heading about, some walking by themselves and others in pairs, while others walked with much more finely dressed people who eyed Crylon with a bit more subtlety. Not that they were trying to hide their gaze, no it seemed they felt well within their rights to eye him openly like a piece of meat for sale. Once they had gotten to the correct room internally the woman exchanged some words with another woman before walking off with nothing more than a nod to Crylon. In turn the woman she had briefly spoken to greeted him. She was, for a human, on the short side. Admittedly though she was still taller than Crylon, not towering over him like many humans did but cresting him by several inches. She also had a rather flat face, common among humans, missing the natural brow ridge of an Isur. He was still puzzled how humans did not have one of those, but had grown to accept the odd races facial features somewhat. Still he missed being about Isur with normal appearing faces, and unconsciously flicked his eyes to note this oddity on their faces most of the time when first meeting someone. As she approached and greeted him, Crylon nodded, noting her name. Shiress. He was still somewhat confused as to the household worked, never having had it fully explained. He knew slavery was a common thing in Ravok, but was the first woman one? The second? Did they work for the household or where they a part of it? He tried to keep the confusion from showing on his face, focusing instead on her words and the job at hand. For a moment Crylon struggled for words, almost falling back into Isur before speaking in his best common he could manage. “I am Crylon. Crylon Stonecraft. Yes I... Begin where... The damage is? Yes, take me there, that will do.” Crylon was unsure what else to say, as besides his job of inspecting the damage he had no idea what had been damaged, where, to what extent, let alone where to start, and so left it up to the woman to take him where they needed to go. WC: 748

[Shiress]

Shiress studied the stranger for a long chime, watching his facial expresions and uncertain gaze, remembering how he had looked between herself and the slave warden, but it wasnt until the man actually spoke that the slave realized he didnt sound as if he was from Ravok, or anyother city she had known, for that matter. Casting a subtle glance down to the man's oddly colored arm, the slave wondered if he was even human.

"Well," Shiress began, but hesitated, unsure of how to address the stranger. Deciding to remain subservient, even toward this stranger, she continued, "Master Stonecraft, the closest is a large storage house. We can begin there if that is okay." Shiress nodded her head slightly, then led the way through a long hallway, lined with portraits of long-dead Lark faces, and out into the courtyard.

Shiress led Crylon to a large, rectangular shaped stone building. The building was easily the largest structure surrounding the Lark Estate and obviously had sustained the most damage. The building's thatched roof, near the back end of the large structure, had caved in, loosening a large chunk of stone from the side in its wintery wake. Shiress moved to a pair of large wooden doors and hauled them open, initiating a groan of protest from the hinges, as the heavy wood grated and scrubbed along the bottom.

The entranceway opened to reveal a dark, shadowy first half of the building, the meager light casting a ghostly look to old chairs and tables, large stone and porcelain planters, and many other ghostly things that Shiress couldn't make out. Further back, where more sunlight filtered down through the broken roof, a large ravosala lay toppled over on its side, broken nearly in half. Just past this, long wooden beams fell from the roof like broken teeth, with one precariously stabbing through the roof of a sagging slave wagon.

Looking through dancing, diamond-like particles of dust, Shiress paused, staring at the barred vehicle. Iron cuffs dangle down from its roof on long chains and what looked like a bloodstain ran down through the bars and onto its wooden side. Shiress visibly shuttered, wondering if that particular wagon was the one that had brought her to the slave house.

Wrapping slender arms around herself protectively, Shiress withdrew from the entranceway, giving Crylon room to do as he needed, surprised at herself that such sites could still fill her with fear.

A

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[Crylon Stonecraft]

At the wording "Master Stonecraft" Crylon let out a small snort of mirth. “I many things. Master, not one. Not yet. Someday mastery, now but learning.” Regardless of his response to her words, Crylon nodded and followed along. A damaged storage building seemed a fine enough place to start, as good as anywhere else. He would need to examine all the damage there was so he did not see a reason to pick and choose spots and orders of examination. Crylon followed along where the woman led, glancing about at the pictures and things but mostly focusing on where he was going in the strange place. There first destination was a large stone building, squared off in shape, and clearly heavily damaged even from outside appearances. Inside... He could only imagine what it would look like when he could see it from additional angles. Upon seeing the first bit of damage Crylon took out his notebook and writing implements to begin noting down damaged features and parts in need of replacement or repair. As usual he did his best to translate his thoughts into words in common on the paper which was easier than straight speaking the language. Roof damaged, spots caved in, showing holes, needs heavy patching to repair. Possibly replacement of all roofing material. Main structure elements of roof appear intact. His quill was a long series of slow scratches on the paper, with occasional pauses as he thought of a particular word or phrasing on common to the best of his ability. It was helped by the slow speed, as writing was slower than talking and so gave him more time to think and word. Plus as he only had to work with specific building related terms or as close as e could get he did not need the variety of general speech. With all of the writing he was doing of late he was growing increasingly skilled with a quill. Stone elements collapse... Minor part of roof... Non direct support structure. Add to damage to roof.. Also need replace... Additional surrounding repair possibly need. Giving rough measurements and gauges of size, Crylon added more notes as the two entered the structure itself. He did not at first focus on the things inside, though once he did he saw it was mainly non-interesting furniture and the like. He was rather focused on his work, and other smaller things avoided his notice in his concentration on the building itself. It was then he noticed the bigger problem to the roof, actual structural damage. From the new vantage point inside the actual damage was much more clear, and the roof was much worse off than he had known. Internal view. Structural beams damaged, dislodged from roof. Support structure along with covering damaged, need replacement of damaged parts, repair of others. Possible total roof rebuild and replacement. His eyes flicking back and forth from the paper, Crylon spent equal time look at the building and room as he did looking at the paper. It was during one of these shifting views that he noticed the odd vehicle in the room for storage, and that Shiress had begun to scoot back out the door. He was not sure how long ago that had occurred, having likely spent many chimes making notes. “Misses Shiress... What is that... Thing for?” He puzzled over it, but his mind could not quite fathom what use it would fulfill. He understood purpose built things, but what purpose this one had was beyond him. Why it had all of the odd bits of metal, clamps, and things, iron chains. His mind made a small connection to the fact that Ravok did have slavery, but could not fully integrate the concept into a use for a vehicle. A puzzled expression tied with a small frown crossing his lips, Crylon turned from the building to the odd cart and back to Shiress. “Misses Shiress... What is you do here? Specifically?” From his odd fumbled wording his meaning was not quite clear, and could be taken in a number of ways depending on how it was heard. Diligently the Isur continued at his working between questions, occasionally turning to Shiress as she spoke, but still doing his job all the same. Walls intact. Main structure and support intact. Appears base and float intact. Only element damaged and need repair roof. Once he had finished making notes, and Shiress had answered, Crylon would query again. “Can you take to base of building? To inspect float part? See if is damage to base or just roof?” WC: 764