Cursed Sea-legs! (Open)

[Deleted]

        Master Elghinn- Weyrharper

Damn! Blast, damn and- his thoughts are interrupted by yet another violent wave of seasickness as the 'merchant' vessel lurches its' way into the harbor cavern of Mavros. His arms sweep out, pushing aside his black and white cloak of wherryfeathers (he knew was every bit as absurd as the tailor he'd paid to have it made had told him) to clear it out of his way as he rushed to the side of the boat to violently empty the precious remainders of his breakfast into the harbor. He stands there, continuing to retch, half pitched over the side of the boat already as his body tries to convince him to loose everything he'd eaten in the past month. 

A second lurch of the boat as it connects with the dock, eager sailors quickly disembarking to quickly tie off and ready the ships contents for eventual transport- what would be leaving the ship anyway. The Weyrharper himself however, locked as he is in his violent denial of his presence on land that was anything but solid, is pitched overboard to land in the water. A moment of panic. He sputters, gargling saltwater that conveniently washes his mouth of the taste of his own vomit, and while doing so, sincerely prays by the First Egg that he hadn't landed in his own leavings.

His rescue by the crew is quick, as would be expected of seasoned seamen. He, however, in thirty years of his vast miscellany of experiences, had yet to set himself to sailing. He made it a point to stay off boats for exactly this reason. Faranth Forbid he fall off a boat and get left out to sea, but when The MasterHarper said a Weyr required your services, By The Egg you did not! say no! At least everything important had been left in his little broom-closet they called a cabin. Once he's pulled back to the railing, he finishes the climb himself and awkwardly lugs himself over to drop into a sopping heap on the deck with his absurd cloak covering his head and threatening to suffocate him in the now-soaked wherhide lining. 

He flails, trying to free himself of his own absurdity, coughing, sputtering, feeling entirely too claustrophobic, and shouting at his cloak to just get off his face. The seamen, likely finding it wiser to keep their distance from the flailing harper than to risk getting struck out of hand, keep their business as they continue their own busy-work until the Harper can settle himself, which he eventually does, though not without a string of curses the likes of which might make the sailors blush were they paying attention. 

Suitably recovered from his claustrophobic predicament of the confines of his probably ruined cloak, he shakes himself loose, wrings the seawater from his hair and beard, wipes his eyes, and strides to the unloading ramp and onto the docks proper; finally glad to be free of the wretched thing that conveyed him here. They could have sent a dragonrider. A DRAGON! I could have been here sevendays ago! He clears his throat, grabs the edges of his soaked cloak and spreads it out as though it were his own set of wings and bellows; "THE WHERRYMAN COMETH!" to the harbor to announce his arrival. Will trouble find me, or will I have to go looking, he wonders with a wild eye in his look.

[Zen]

Candidate Yvinka

Yvinka was humming to herself, something tuneless and random, as she made her way along the docks, half wondering if she might see Treyvin working. She’d been to visit her little cousin Trillia and was hoping to spot the boy now as well, she hadn’t seen him in a while. He must be keeping pretty busy, she supposed. She was also half hoping to see her uncle’s ship, as he’d been away several months now. She expected he’d return soon, but apparently not today. The Storm’s Eye was nowhere to be seen. Mostly just the usual fishing boats. Oh well, he’d be back soon enough. She didn’t imagine he’d be gone more than another month, if her own experience on a trading ship was anything to go by.

Walking along the docks as she was mostly made her in the way of those working on them, but she’d grown used to the grumbling and displeased looks as she wove around the fishers and sailors, and to be honest she hardly noticed anymore except for the occasional shout from one of the more temperamental men for her to get the shell out of the way. But a different shout drew her attention as she neared one of the few ships that wasn’t for fishing, going through docking procedures. Wherryman? She stopped where she was only a few feet away from the man who had bellowed and couldn’t help but start to laugh as she took in his sopping wet, feathered form. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen anything more ridiculous.

Still laughing, she couldn’t help herself, “Drowned wherryman maybe!” She wiped at her eyes as they watered from the intensity of her amusement. “What IS that? Were you hoping to join a flock?” She doubled over, the laughter bubbling up in an endless stream she had no ability to stop. Great Faranth, she wished Treyvin was there with her to see this… this… absurdity!

@kylori

[Deleted]

        Master Elghinn- Weyrharper

What's this? Ahh, yes, trouble's found me! Elghinn bellows his laughter with the young woman that'd approached him. "Ahh, yes someone who recognizes the greatness of the fabled Wherryman!" He flaps his cloak, but given its thoroughly saturated state, all it can do is slop against him heavily and wetly. Of course, the motion has the added benefit of throwing water from the feathers in such a way that they'd soak anyone caught too close to him. "Drowned Wherryman or no, I am still The Wherryman." He puts extra emphasis on 'the' wherryman, as though anyone but him might be insane enough to wear such outrageous attire, much less while on a ship and fall overboard in it.

He lets go of the edge of his cloak and lets it slop back against his sides before using his hands to adjust a hat he was no longer wearing. "Waitaminute." He feels around his head as though maybe the hat had moved. "Where's my-" he looks around himself on the dock before finally pulling an about-face to stare at the ship he'd just disembarked. "WHERE'S MY HAT!?" By now his tones had turned toward acting level, feigning his outrage at having lost his HAT of all the things he might've lost pitching himself overboard as he did. He runs his fingers through his soggy hair and pitches his head forward, wringing out his hair and massaging his scalp before flinging the wet mass back over his shoulders and straightening it out behind him before turning back to face the young woman who'd been laughing at him.

"As it happens, if this would happen to be Mavros Weyr, I would be looking to join a flock. At its' head of course." He takes a deep bow with a soggy flourish of his cloak. "I am Elghinn Wherryman, Master Harper, and newly requested Weyrharper of Mavros at your service, young lady." He recovers from the bow with a wide grin and wild eyes. "At least. Newly requested as of a month ago. Would have been so much faster if they'd have sent a dragon to fetch me, no? Ahh, but I've heard Mavros hasn't the resources to have fetchriders kept handy, no matter."

His eyes flick to the water alongside the docks, catching something drifting along. My hat! "Excuse me one moment," he says, holding up a single finger and shrugging out of the wherrycloak and tossing it to the girl, not caring if it's caught as he immediately bolts after the offending article of clothing and launches himself off the pier and straight back into the water to bellyflop on its surface, curling himself in a ball around the hat before stuffing the silly cloth monstrosity between his teeth and swimming back to the dock where he'd leapt off. The wild look remains in his eyes as he stares at the girl, now twice soaked and looking intensely pleased with himself. "I haff ay ha'," he says, only removing the hat from his mouth to slop it over his head to drip seawater down his face after he'd finished speaking.

[Zen]

Candidate Yvinka

And there he went again, on about the ‘wherryman’. This man was as mad as a sun-crazed wher, of that she was certain, but he was rather entertaining. Afterall, she’d definitely never seen anything quite like him before, and she had seen some oddities in her travels about Pern. “Why would you wanna be a wherry? ‘Specially around a Weyr. Some dragon’s gonna eat you before they realize you’re more man than wherry,” she had finally gotten her laughter under control into a more subdued giggle, but the man still looked utterly ridiculous and it was hard not to laugh, especially when spotting the strange looks passerby were tossing at him, though in general they seemed to be giving him a wide berth. Pah, cowards. Just because he was odd didn’t mean he was dangerous.

Suddenly the man seemed to realize he’d lost something and Yva tilted her head slightly, glancing around when he wailed about his hat as though she might spot it on the ground nearby. She saw no sign of any hats, however, nor was she entirely sure she would even recognize it as a hat, considering how oddly he was dressed. He might consider just about anything a hat for all she knew. Well, the hat was forgotten for now, apparently. He bowed as he introduced himself. A harper? She wasn’t sure how but that seemed to make perfect sense and none and at all at the same time. Was this wherryman thing meant to be some sort of performance? That made the most sense, but very little about this man seemed to make any sense at all so who knew? She offered a flourishing bow of her own, “Welcome to Mavros, Master Harper. I’m Yvinka, here as a dragon candidate.”

It was a reflex to catch something that was thrown to her, so when he suddenly tossed his cloak at her, she reached out for it, quickly wrinkling her nose at the odd feeling of the wet, feathery cloak and momentarily distracted from Elghinn’s actions. It wasn’t until she heard the splash that she looked over to realize he’d jumped back into the water. Very little sense indeed. Not knowing what else to do, she stood there with the odd cloak in hand and waited for the harper to rejoin her on dry land. He just kept getting odder and odder. She giggled again at his matter of fact, muffled statement, agreeing, “So it seems.” She glanced down at the cloak in her hands and held it out, “I believe this is yours? I’ve no desire to be mistaken for a wherry and made into someone’s meal.”

She glanced around again, frowning slightly. She would have thought someone might be sent to greet the new Weyrharper if he was expected, but maybe his ship had arrived earlier or later than expected? “As it happens, this is the hold side of Mavros. The Weyr is a ways that way,” she jerked her head in the general direction of the Weyr, “It’s a bit of a walk, but I suppose you’ll have time to dry off then. Unless you prefer to be waterlogged?” Of course, the season hardly made it a good time to be soaked through and wandering about, but there was little she could do about that.

@kylori

[Deleted]

        Master Elghinn- Weyrharper

"Of course no man would wish to be a wherry, young lady," he all but shouted his exclamation as he took his cloak back from Yvinka. "T'was a name I fashioned myself back in Southern! Not everyone's the bollocks to punch wherries in the face protecting a hatching, you know!" He laughed uproariously as he folded his soaked through cloak over his arm. He'd actually forgotten about the chill in the air now that he'd landed and his initial adrenaline reaction had worn off. He actually shivered. Shivered! Had not the entirety of Pern the good sense to enjoy Southern's nearly tropical hospitality!? "'With neither stick nor cane I quickened my pace, and punched wild Wherries right in the face," he recited with gleaming eyes and a wanton grin.

"Come come, young lady Yvinka, I require an escort to your dragonmen, but FIRST!" He all but shouted the last, planting fists on his hips, pausing for dramatic effect. "... A Harper's half-mark if you can direct me to the nearest place to get dry clothes as mine are currently..." He spoke in a far more demure and apologetic tone as he jerked a thumb back at the unloading ship. "In transit to the Weyr proper. And of course, if this is to be my home for the foreseeable future, it would do me quite well to see what your marvelous Hold has to offer in the way of amenities." 

He took a long look around himself then, hoping to discern something recognizable, but he'd gotten perhaps a bit too content with the regularity of the more established Holds in Southern. This one, was still quite new as Holds went. "Unfortunately, my arrival was delayed by a number of storms and the... Ahm. Crew, were less than able to get word back to them that I would be delayed a sevenday. Unless word spreads rather quickly here, I would be waiting quite a while for the sort of escort one might expect for an arriving Harper." With that, he tipped his hat and offered a flourishing bow befitting a Lord Holder and a charming smile once he'd recovered.

Zen

[Zen]

Yvinka

It was a name he’d given himself, huh? Yvinka shook her head. An odd man indeed. Punching wherries in the face? She laughed again. So very odd. She didn’t mind showing him to the Weyr, though when he brought up where he could find some dry clothes, she hmm’d lightly. “I don’t actually know the hold side very well outside the harbor… but I know someone who does! My aunt Mia. Well, she’s not really my aunt, but she is the mother of my cousin so I call her that anyway. But she’s lived here for turns, so she should be able to help.” She’d just come from visiting Mia and the woman was probably trying to work, but she didn’t think she’d mind being interrupted to help out the new Weyrharper.

His explanation of his delay made sense, and she shrugged in response. Ships got delayed all the time. “Follow me then, and I’m sure we can find you something dry to change into.” She waved her hand for her to follow as she turned back toward Mialli’s quarters. It wasn’t far, and everyone gave them a decent berth on account of the scene the Master Harper had made by the docks so they didn’t have to fight their way through some of the more crowded areas. She knocked once they’d arrived, but then pushed inside without waiting, “Mia I’m back!”

Trillia ran over and threw her arms around Yvinka’s legs, giggling, and Yvinka patted the girl on the head. Mia set aside the net she was mending and stood, “Back already? What-” The woman stopped when Yvinka stepped inside and she spotted the sopping wet man behind her.

“Sorry for interrupting, but this is Master Harper Elghinn and he had ah… incident, at the docks. He’s rather in need of some dry clothes before he heads on to the Weyr,” Yvinka grinned, looking back at him.

“Oh… pleased to meet you, Master Harper,” Mia spoke with some surprise, smoothing down her skirts a bit self consciously, even though the man was in a much more disheveled state than she was. “Dry clothes….” She took the man in a moment longer, “You seem about my father’s size. I’m sure I can find you something that will do until you can settle in and get back into your own clothes.” She looked to Yvinka then, “Keep an eye on Trillia for me, I’ll be back in a moment.” Yvinka nodded and Mialli stepped outside, pausing briefly, “Please make yourself at home, Master Harper.” With that she hurried off.

Trillia peeked around Yvinka’s legs at the man, the four turn old more than a little wary of the stranger. Yvinka patted her head again and moved to the fire where Mia had a pot of klah heated. Trillia stuck to her, keeping her between herself and Elghinn. “Would you like some klah to help warm you up while you wait?” She poured a cup anyway and held it out for him.

@kylori