The Apprentice

The Apprentice
Summary: Johan's new apprentice arrives to meet his new Master.
Date: 01/10/2013
Related: None
Players:
Johan Landros Bryony 

Laketown - Grimson Arms
The heated air in this room smells of fire and iron. A forge dominates the rear of the room, coupled by large bellows and flanked by a sturdy anvil. Barrels filled with water stand by the anvil, and others stand along the walls filled with the materials of the craft. Counters and benches are home to well-kept and cared for tools. Examples of the wares, weapons ready to be taken away on the spot, hang along the walls and from the rafters of the building. Despite every available space being put to work, it doesn't feel cluttered in the forge. The floors are well swept, everything is organized, and everything has its place. Two wide doors, wide enough to pass a cart through, open under a swinging sign reading Grimson Arms, with a hammer crossing the G, back out to the street.
Fri Sep 27, 1329

The forge is cooling, Johan has abandoned his leather apron to the peg near the counter, and he's attending to a couple of ledgers open on the counter. The apprentice, the remaining apprentice, is already out for the night. Johan should be out already, but he is waiting on the new apprentice to show up. He had been sent a note from the Guild, a notice that he had been assigned a new young face already. Nothing very surprising. He has a flagon brought round by his wife earlier in the evening to keep him company until one…Landros Belmont showed up. And his numbers, balancing supplies and coin.

Finally, the doors open, and the new apprentice steps through and enters his new smithy. Landros simply stares at his new master for a moment, before knuckling his forehead as guild protocol dictates and greeting him, "Master Grimson. I… am Landros Belmont. Your new apprentice."

The doors open, and Johan glances sideways to them briefly, pausing his writing just long enough to get a glimpse at the boy, then he's back to finishing what he' jotting. He stands from the tall stool he's seated on when he finishes, and tucks the charcoal pencil behind his ear, turning toard Landros. "Belmont," he rumbles quietly, his voice rough and gravelly from so many years over the smoke, accent decidedly Nothern. Far North. Rhaedan the city. "Where is that name from?" Needlessly asked, or perhaps hopefully asked but suspecting the worse. He'd been saddled with a Southerner.

Landros does not seem to notice Johan's accent. His own response, in a southern accent, but not an accent as strong as Johan's, is firm, but without any notable edge behind it: "Wolveshire." Alas, he is indeed a southerner.

Johan grunts beneath his breath and nods just once. Professional. He could be professional. "That is too bad." Or not. He stands up straight infront of Landros, considering the boy with a more critical eye. "How are your teeth?" he asks, followed quickly by, "I trust you can read and write? That you have learned basic mathematics in the Southern extensions?"

Landros blinks in consternation for a moment and looks galled before finally shrugging. "We will still be able to work together, I trust." There is a hint of a challenge, and it carries through in his responses to the interrogation. "My teeth are fine." He bares them to prove it. "I have learned reading, writing, and mathematics, yes."

"I hope so. I take my name and reputation very seriously, Landros, whether I am forging iron or young hands. I will not accept anything but your best, and if you can not turn out satisfactory work, I will petition the Guild for a replacement," answers the challenge, but also a small crook of a grin that he quickly tries to hide beneath the stern rocky countenance and icy blues. "What are you most adept with so far?"

"I take my work as seriously as you take yours, Master Grimson. I never try to do anything but my best, and I would not have gotten this far if my work was not satisfactory." Landros does his best to meet Johan's assertive tone, rather than backing down. "I am adept with… well, weapons. I mean to be a weaponsmith, as you are. I am best, I suppose, at forging blades and bludgeons."

And there is a visitor. "Johan," Bryony all but sings out, a basket draped over her arm. Stepping into the forge, the healer pauses, blinking once. "Oh. I did not realize you had a customer. It will keep," she assures, giving smith and apprentice a warm smile before moving over to one side to be out of the way.

Johan holds his tongue when he might otherwise have liked to have argued something. It's obvious. His teeth flash again in a tight grin. "We will start with your best then, and bring it up to where it must be to be a journeyman from there. At least you have a spine to you." His answer for his strong points give Johan cause to lift his hand and rub across the side of his head, down the back of his neck, and grip there.

"Weapons I would assume, yea? Why else put you with a weaponsmith- " His head lifts to the sing-song and he looks vaguely torn when he sees Bryony arrive. He would get one of those gentle scoldings behind closed doors about being too hard on 'the boys' again. But he was already in. "You will start with clubs," Johan grunts to Landros. "You will be hard pressed to ruin those." He pulls his hand from his neck then, to gesture to Bryony. "This is my wife, Mistress Bryony, with the Healer's Guild. She keeps our first aid supplis overstocked."

Landros smiles slightly, not quite smirking but not too far off, as Johan grins and gives him direction. "Suits me… clubs, yes, fair enough. I have made too many to ruin them. Hopefully I will be able to move on to something more challenging soon enough." He does not notice Bryony's entry until Johan introduces her, at which point the apprentice turns to her, knuckling his forehead once he hears that she is a mistress in a guild. "A pleasure to meet you, Mistress Bryony."

Bryony inclines her head towards Landros, amused by the gruffness of her husband. "A pleasure," she echoes. "Though, I think you will find that the clubs will be more challenging than you expect." Hazel eyes drift towards her smith with fondness. "My husband is nothing if not a perfectionist." And, with that, the healer approaches the man himself and places a soft kiss to his cheek. "It is, after all, his reputation at stake with your training…"

"Make a few dozen satisfactory clubs, and we will move to war hammers. Between that, you will be reponsible for fetching supplies from the guildhall, cleaning the forge, feeding the horse, taking orders, and keeping up with your studies at the guild." When Bryony looks at him like that, he grunts again, but tries to shake out some of the sterness, looking back to Landros again. "There will be some time to relax some evenings, allowances to take to the tavern, and I will instruct you through the day while I work in finer techniques."

Johan dips his head down to thekiss against his cheek when it is given and an arm loops around Bryony to keep her near.

"That is good to hear, Mistress Bryony. My reputation is at stake too, after all." Even as Landros agrees with the woman, he averts his eyes slightly from her and her husband as they display affection. "That sounds good as well, Master Johan. Similar to what I did in Wolveshire, so nothing I can't handle, and the free time will be… most appreciated."

Bryony leans her head against Johan's shoulder, not truly caring that it is a public display. Amusement touches her as Landros averts his eyes. "You need not worry, I fear that I am not here very often. My duties keep me rather busy and too far from home for my liking." Her head tilts back as she looks up at her husband. "I have acquired more raspberry leaf. Most to be given to the princess but… some for me, as well," she discloses, certain that the implication will be safely unrealized by any but her husband.

Johan considers the boy a few moments longer before adding, "And you will attend Temple. At least three times a week." Where this free time is going to come in at might be difficult to figure out. A couple more moments, while he listens to Bryony and her disclosure of fancy leaves. There is a lift to his brow that suggests maybe he does follow. The man can be taught! He runs through a mental check list, and he finally tells Landros, "Why don't you go enjoy a last night of freedom, and report first thing in the morning. We will have a rush of work prior to the foot challenges."

Bryony's implication is definitely unrealized by Landros, whose attention returns to the smith. "/Three/ times?" He gapes, finally taken aback. "Unless they have a forge in the Temple, is there going to be enough time to actually learn to smith?" Nevertheless, when a reprieve is offered he is quick to take it. "It is more of a… first night of freedom, but yes, master, thank you."

"Unless you would like to attend every morning with me…" Johan begins, trailing off, his grin widening. Surely, Landros would hear all about Johan's beliefs over the time over the forge, he doesn't delve into it now. "…I believe three is time enough. Have a good evening, Landros, first or last or both as it may be."

Johan's response brings an even larger grin to the healer's face and she nestles her head onto his shoulder again. A dark brow arches at the boy's surprise over the temple attendence but she chuckles softly. "The Drunken Clam is a good place to enjoy yourself," she offers up. "Or the Blue Duck if you like things quieter. Of course, there is always the Honey Suckle…"

Questions run across Landros' shocked face: Every morning? Is that possible? Is the Temple even open every morning? He has the tact not to voice those questions, though. "Three times a week will be… more than enough. " He nods slowly at Bryony's list. "I am not familiar with any of them, mistress, but I will be sure to visit, thank you."

Johan snickers quietly and he looks own to Bryony, asking, "Don't you think the girls at the Honey Suckle will eat him alive? He doesn't have that much allowance yet - " Dipping a hand to the pouch at his waist, he pulls out a few small coins to hold out to Landros. "This should buy you a fine night. Just make sure it is not so fine that you are late in the morning." He nods to the door then, adding, "Off with you. I will shut down the forge."

"He is young still. How will he become a man if he does not face conflict and adversity?" Bryony returns cheekily. "It builds character… And, somehow, I think he'll survive." Her gaze turns to the lad and she grins once more. "Good evening, Landros. It was a pleasure meeting you…"

Landros looks between Johan and Bryony uncomprehendingly as they talk of the Honey Suckle. First to Johan, "Uh… I am sure that barmaids cannot be so bad. But I would not want to go somewhere so expensive that I would not have allowance to buy drinks." He nods gratefully as he accepts the money. "Thank you." He then turns to Bryony and is even more confused by her. "Right, uh… you as well, mistress."

Johan can only chuckle whn Bryony suggest it builds character, and when Landros imagines it to be a bar, he just laughs all the clearer, uninhibited. "Good night, Landros," he laughs, entirely lightened, and turning to his wife to wrap her into his arms. "And you, awful woman, wife of mine - "

Bryony giggles a little at the confusion and even more when she is swept up in Johan's arms. "All yours," she confirms as she winds her arms about his shoulders. "But I am not wrong. Look at you… You survived," she teases with a grin. "Exactly how much character did you acquire through those visits, anyway?"

Johan lifts Bryony up off of her feet while he hummms throug his thoughts on how to answer the question. He doesn't answer until he sets her back on her feet, and then, it's, "Far less than I paid out to the girls. I am certain that they got the better end of the deal out of my naivety." Johan reaches for his axe , and with that, he is pulling Bryony toward the door to follow out behind Landros. "Let's go make you some raspberry leaf tea, lovie."

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