The Woes of Poor Penmanship

Writers: AmajoS, Bree
Date Posted: 31st March 2007

Characters: Lynson, Fielton
Description: The Hallmaster's bad handwriting causes a mixup.
Location: Vintner Hall
Date: month 3, day 1 of Turn 4

Fielton

Lynson caught sight of the man he was looking for and quickly changed directions to intercept him. He meant to try to talk the Hallmaster out of the assignment he'd been given - assisting with the set-up of the new Tavern. There was too much work to do to salvage what vines they could and get new fields started. If they weren't careful, they were going to lose the strain of grapes used almost exclusively for the Amber Whisper wines!

"Hallmaster!" He called to get the man's attention.

Fielton paused, turning to glance back over his shoulder. "Yes, Lynson?"

Lynson covered the distance between them in a few long strides. "I wanted to talk to you about the assignment I've been given." He paused only a moment to organize his arguments, knowing that ranting about it
- as he wanted to, would do no good. "I think my time could be better spent working to salvage the vines sir, and the new plantings need tending as well. We're shorthanded in the vineyards as it is."

"What?" Fielton shook his head in confusion. "I have no idea what you're talking about, journeyman. I didn't reassign anyone from the vines."

Now it was Lynson's turn to be confused. "I've been assigned to help set up the new Tavern, sir."

Fielton sighed and switched directions. "Then there must be some mistake... I can't afford to have your attention taken away from those vines! But we've already sent out the invitatons for the Tavern opening..." Shards, did _everything_ fall apart when he turned his back? "Let's go to my office and straighten this out."

Relief washed through Lynson as he followed the Hallmaster. "I'd hoped that was the case, sir."

"Well, don't be too pleased..." Fielton opened the door to his office and gestured Lynson inside. "We're in a tight place now that we've set a date, so you'll _have_ to stay at the Tavern until I can find someone to replace you there."

Lynson winced, "How long will that be?"

"I don't know... a few days?" Schedules were strewn about the desk, and it took Fielton a few minutes to dig through them to the one he was looking for. "Shards and shells, how did your name end up on the wrong list?" His brow furrowed as he waved absently for Lynson to take a seat. "What do they have you doing?"

"Helping with stocking and setting up mostly it seems," Lynson answered as he sat. He tried to think of just how far behind 'a few days' would put the vinyard work.

Fielton finally surfaced with the correct schedule and sighed. "I told them to bit Lesanon in the Tavern," he said grumpily, squinting at his handwriting. Was it really _that_ bad? "Someone must have misread it.
I'll try to get you switched back around, but a lot of it will depend on where _he_ ended up."

Lynson shook his head. Exasperation and amusement warred within him.
Now that the situation was at least partially handled, it was easier to view it philosophically. Of course he was impatient with anything keeping him out of the vineyards, but mistakes happened sometimes.
This one was going to be fixed. And besides, the Hallmaster's handwriting was notoriously bad, it almost didn't surprise him that something like this had happened.

"Well, I guess that's the best that can be done for now anyway. Thank you Hallmaster." He grinned a bit.

"You're welcome, Lynson. If things don't fall into place in a few days, let me know." With that, Fielton turned his attention back to his hides in obvious dismissal, already trying to decide how he could make sure his handwriting didn't cause such confusion again.

Last updated on the April 1st 2007

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The Woes of Poor Penmanship