Opening Night at the Tavern

Writers: AJ Kraier, Mikel
Date Posted: 23rd February 2007

Characters: Junvia, Bhervehan, Hartam, Winda, Jeromas
Description: The harpers prepare for opening night at The Tavern
Location: Vintner Hall
Date: month 2, day 21 of Turn 4

The journeyman harper glanced around the room, as yet unoccupied by customers, though those who would be serving the guests bustled about in preparation. The Tavern Master had all well in hand, smiling and yet seemingly aware of all that happened around him. The establishment promised well - at least to Hartam's eye.

His own equipment was placed in order, ready for the entertainment that would accompany the patrons' imbibing of ale and wine. His harp nestled in its case, gitar propped against a chair, and recorder rested upon a small table, a napkin beneath it to cushion the precious wood. He reached out a hand and flicked a speck of dust from the polished surface of the gitar as he muttered in a barely audible voice, "Where did that apprentice get to?"

Bhervehan paced the floor of the Tavern, moving chairs incrementally, adjusting the placement of candles he had moved a dozen times already.

Ever at his side, his daughter Winda chuckled, "da, everything is perfect."

"I'll decide when it is perfect, daughter," the Tavern Master said, trying to sound gruff. "Now run off and ask someone to close those shutters so I can check out these electric lights and adjust them to the right level."

"I'll be right back, da," Winda said. Turning to her sister she continued. "Junvia, it has been great to see you again."

Kissing her sister, the young apprentice said, "and you too, sis. But I better get back to Hartam before he uses my skin for a drumhead."

The journeyman had descended the steps from the stage and now stood in the center of the indoor dance square, arms crossed and eyes narrowed as he studied the placement of chairs upon the raised area. "Perhaps they should be moved forward a bit. Will we be able to see their faces and know how they're reacting?" His words were uttered in his rich baritone, though he did not ask them in expectation of an answer. He stepped backward, still regarding the stage.

Junvia came up behind Hartam. "I am sorry, Journeyman. I do not get to see my family very often."

"There! You see! You've made me late -- I hope you are happy,"
muttered a dark haired, young harper to the unrepentant blue firelizard on his shoulder, as he entered the tavern. Several different types of instrument cases were awkwardly held in his arms, and his left hand clutched a disorganized, torn, and dirtied collection of papers that had once been sheet music.

"Not a problem, m'lady," Hartam turned to Junvia with a smile and the slightest of bows. "You were here and at my call - not to mention keeping in good standing with those who will be providing us with sustenance." His eyes went to the other apprentice, his expression now sterner. "On the other hand. . ."

Jeromas cringed inwardly, but did his best not to let it show. If he couldn't look professional, the least he could do was try to act that way. "Sorry I'm late. I... tripped on the road."

The older harper bit back the words that came to mind for Jeromas, turning to the girl instead. "Of course it will be crowded, dear Junvia. This is a great event and we want these seats to be filled."
His arm described an arc that encompassed the carefully placed chairs, benches, and tables. "Our music will complement their conversations at times and captivate them at others. After all," at this his expression took on a touch of mischief as his voice boomed out and climbed to his last word, "we do know how to project our voices."

Junvia resisted the urge to clear her throat. Despite what a somewhat squeaky speaking voice, her instructors told her that she had a sweet, smooth singing voice. "Yes, sir."

"Sir," said Jeromas, shifting the load in his arms as he moved toward Hartam, "where should I put all of these --- Shells!" With a flourish, the music slipped from his hand and scattered into clumps on the floor and over a half-dozen seats. "Sorry..."

Junvia jumped to help her fellow apprentice gather the sheet music together. "Oh, Jeromas, you have to calm down."

"I'll try," said Jeromas, carefully setting down his instruments on the floor before joining her in the task. "But easier said than done,"
he added under his breath.

Hartam frowned as he picked up an errant sheet of music and turned the paper to study it. "If this one is any indication, most of these could be sent to the trash bin. However, since you need this piece tonight, I'd suggest that you straighten and clean it the best that you can."
He gestured toward the stage, the wrinkled paper still in his hand.
"Choose a chair up there - one of the empty ones - and arrange your instruments within reach of it. Then wash your hands and straighten your clothes a bit. You're representing the Harper Hall, and I expect you to put in a suitable appearance."

Cringing at the journeyman's suggestion that she might embarrass the Hall, especially here, especially tonight. This was not the first time she had been at one of her father's opening nights, and she knew how important this was to him as well.

"Yes, Sir. Don't worry, I won't... embarrass the Hall." He privately added an 'I hope.' Turning to Junvia, Jeromas said, "Would you mind, uh, taking these while I, uh, get my instruments onto the stage?"

Taking the sheets, she tried to get them somewhat square. "Sure, not a problem. Don't worry Jeromas, everything is going to be alright."

Ignoring the apprentices, Hartam turned to study the large room once more, muttering to himself. "Music chosen. . . instruments ready. . .
drinks. . . That's what I forgot!" He glanced around for the Tavern Master, locating him and heading off in that direction.

**Beer and wine kegs in place, all the furniture is here. Staff is here. Harpers are here. What is out of place?** Bhervehan had opened four previous taverns in his turns, and he had yet to feel comfortable going into one. Leaning against the bar, he continued to look around the The Tavern, making sure everything is in place.

"Ah, there you are," Hartam bustled toward the bar with a broad grin.
"Master Bherevan, I have a special request of you - one I should have made sooner."

It took a moment for Bherevhan to realize that someone was speaking to him. "Ah, Journeyman Hartam, yes, yes. Good day, sir. Trust me, last minutes requests are the order of the day at a time like this. What can I do for you?"

"It has to do with brewing, but is outside of your normal specialty."
The harper sighed heavily and leaned against the bar, speaking in a confidential tone of voice. "As much as I enjoy the products of your trade, I find that imbibing of them sometimes interferes with my own performance. I need to drink, to keep my throat and mouth moist for singing. However, too much alcohol can affect both my memory and my diction - not to mention impairing my ability to remain upright on the stage. Whenever I play for special occasions, particularly for one that promises to go on for an extended period of time, I ask for a special brew - a special mixture of herbs, steeped and served either plain or mixed with cider. When poured into a mug, it has much the same color as ale, but allows me to keep my wits and my voice. While I regret that I must put off sampling your wares until later in the evening, I hope that you can help me with this request."

**A brew that does not affect a person like alcohol, but...**

**An herbal brew that taste like...**

"Uh, oh yes, my that does sound like a good idea. Yes, yes it does.
Do you have these herbs with you now?"

"As a matter of fact, I do." Hartam removed a slim wooden box from his jacket pocket and passed it to the Tavern Master. "The leaves are dried and crushed, so a spoonful or so will make a pitcherful of tea.
That should take me through the evening."

Last updated on the February 24th 2007

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Opening Night at the Tavern