Trouble in the Kitchens (attn: any Novices)

[Siemba]

It was big, it was fat, it had an expression like thunder and that was not just referring to the Head of the Kitchens. A half grown wild boar hung on a spit, piggy eyes shut and tusks in a snarl it had probably worn in life as well as now. No one seemed to have any idea who had ordered a wild boar for dinner but whoever it was deserved a clip round the ear, Aes Sedai or not. Not only was the sizzling pig decidedly creepy, it seemed to be ajitating the Kitchen staff with the simple fact that it needed to be prepared.

 

Sial Daemoa, sleeves of her novice whites rolled to shoulders as usual and looking scruffy even by her standards,stood across from the spitroast washing Sea Folk Porcelain goblets with soapsuds up to her elbows. Goblets were getting off lightly; across the room, some poor novices were scrubbing greasy roasting trays. Still, goblets were enough. The cairheinins hands were shriveled after being in water for so long and her skin crawled with an umpleasent grimey sensation. Ive probaly soaked up enough bloody washwater to go the next month without drinking she thought grumpily to herself, splashing a dirty goblet into the bowl with a little more force than stricly necessary and causing a cascase of bubbles to spill down her skirts.

 

"Bloody brilliant..." Sial muttered under her breath, flicking at her skirts with one hand. Almost 4 months of being at the White Tower had not managed to stop her cursing under her breath and it certainly had not resigned her to washing up. She didnt think anyone had noticed though-the kitchen staff certainly were rushing about in bad tempers too much to bother with a silly little Novice. Perhaps another Novice, or even an Accepted, would notice but then they were rushing about too. She scrubbed at her dress a little to vigourously. The precious Sea folk procelain slipped in her wet hand and fell...

 

With a yell, Sial dived for the goblet. She suceeded in catching it unharmed. She also suceeded in upending her washing up bowl. A cascade of suds and bubbles hit the floor and spread across the tiles. Sial wacthed, dark eyes wide with horror, as those who had not heard the clatter of the bowl or her own squeal continued hurrying. Hurrying past the spitroast. Hurrying toward the expanding pool of water...

 

Sial Daemoa

Clumsy Novice

 

(OOC: Feel free to run to the MoN, add to chaos, slip and break a leg ect ;))

[Moseley]

Flaming kitchen duty again! For the second time in a week, Salandrian slaved away in the kitchen, while Saline was sitting comfy-cozy in her bed, reading Taya Gille's diary, plotting and forcing other novices to do her dirty work. To think that at one time Salandrian admired the guileful and cunning Accepted... though deep inside Salandrian knew she admired Saline, and was mostly everything she wanted to be. This frustrated her even more and the soap bar she was holding slipped out of her hand and flew across the room, hitting a fellow Novice on the head. "Sorry!" Salandrian shouted in earnest as she ran toward the Novice whom her soap had hit.

 

The fellow Novice looked at her in horror and suddenly, she realized why. She was on the floor, the bottom of her shift soaking already and her already foul mood paramount.

[Lih-Lyh]

Revolution was bursting through the night sky, more potent than the Illuminators’ craft -- Saline’s version of it, anyway. She had the book, Novices. All was ready, almost.

 

It was the beginning of her fifth year as an Accepted, and many things had changed. No pitter-patter of soft slippers outside her door, as she expected from the trio, although she had taken the precaution to lock her door, so that no pickpockets would be able to sneak in while she went to scimitar practice. Of the advantages she had over the Novices, two were necessary for her guardianship; that was to say, her ability to choose her course for study, and that the Novices were not permitted to channel without permission. The first permitted her enough time to invest into the planning, and the second ensured her sole access to the diary without having to bar her doors with a quarterstaff, one that she had abandoned over the past few months.

 

Her patronage had not broken them so much as forced them into uneasy submission, and the rest had been broken themselves; she had but used their mistakes to her advantage, after all. It was good to see much spirit remained in the Novices though, and she followed each of their progress with a keen measure of enthusiasm that could only be matched by their avid interest in her. With fair reason, for they had found the book she now cradled.

 

Many times she had read the diary, and each time she noticed something new, worthwhile to replicate, bringing back some of the old excitement to the Tower. The itchweed prank was only the beginning, although it was only through luck that the culprits were not caught. She would not be so careless again, even if the Novices had deserved a suicide mission as such for kidnapping her to begin with.

 

Still she had given her word to the Novices that she would show them their discovery when they had proved their worth, and they had done very well against both Vera and Estel Sedai. Sometimes Saline felt a manipulative bully abusing her rank, but any rectifications due to a sudden surge of morality remained to be seen, as her inner protests were overshadowed by dreams of grandeur and nostalgia. Perhaps this was how Taya Gille felt. Murmurs suppressed by the need to evade detection, sitting atop a secret Society akin to one of those mystical guards. The Green had dubbed it the Guild, which intrigued Saline with its levels of initiation and ceremonies.

 

With the help of the Novices, she would revive the Guild. Soon she would show them the secrets Taya’s diary had unfolded, but for now she slipped it under her pillow, and slept tight.

 

OOC: Me? Plotty?  :P

 

[Siemba]

The kitchens were always chaotic but usually it was organised chaos. Today, it was none of the sort.

 

Sial froze in her half crouch, goblet in one had and gaping at the amount of water that she had managed to spill. Perhaps she froze for a moment too long, as from nowhere a cake of hard yellow soap whacked her in the back of the head. "Blood and ashes!" she squawked, going to clutch the back of her head with both hands and suceeding in walloping herself in the back of the head with the goblet in the process. I bet some Trolloc-kisser did it on purpose. She spun around, glaring and expecting to see other Novices giggling.

 

Instead, she heard a shout. "Sorry!" A ridiculously tall and very willowy girl of about her own age, in Novice White, bombed across the kitchen. Toward the puddle. Sial had no time to react before the other woman had gone, as her uncles would so eloquently put it, ass over ear. Sial could only stare in considerable horror. Less than three seconds ago, she had been all revved up to start a fight because of the soap. Now she had a horrible feeling that that debt was repaid and then some. The woman was sitting in the soapy water and was more than slightly soaked. Not to mention she had somehow skidded the puddle over a further distance and a few...well, a lot...of bubbles had been kicked up. That roasted pig was going to have a happy soapy flavour. She wound the end of her long dark plait around her finger in concern for her own hide. Oh well. It can wash out the mouths of a couple of Aes Sedai. To think they have the cheek to call me down for swearing when half of them curse like Tairen pirates with hangovers.

 

Sial winced at the other woman. "Sorry..." She offered her a hand to help her up, then slipped herself on the expanded puddle. She managed to catch herself (and the long suffering porcelain goblet) at the last moment on the corner of her washing up table and stood bowlegged. Staggering to her feet and still clutching the table for support with the gobleted hand, she offered her spare hand to the other woman. "Do you want a hand?"

[Moseley]

"Do you want a hand?" Salandrian's hand was shaking so, she could hardly get off her bum. "Yeah, that would be great." She took the other Novice's hand and stood up. Wet, shaken up, and embarrassed, she longed to go back to her room, though she knew the Aes Sedai would make her finish her chores in the kitchen. "Well, shall we clean this mess up?" What's your name? I am Salandrian Faerhind of Ebou Dar." Looking a little lost, her fellow Novice stammered. "Sorry. I usually ask to many questions. What is your name?"

[Siemba]

Sial came close to joining the other Novice on the floor again but instead managed to help the other woman up with at least a shred of decourum. She was mildly surprised at how well the other woman was holding up, actually. If she had fallen on her backside, she probably would have died in embaressment. Still, she suspiciously suspected that had it been her on her behind someone would be laughing at her.

 

Perhaps she was too suspicious for her own good.

 

Sial was then bombarded by words.  "Well, shall we clean this mess up?" What's your name? I am Salandrian Faerhind of Ebou Dar." Sial blinked. She was rather taken aback. She had heard of people who told pefect strangers personal infomation as a matter of daily course, had even overheard some, but it was a bit different when someone you didnt know told you their full name and origin in the dame sentance within seconds of meeting you. Perhaps her bewilderment communicated itself, as Salandrian continued,  "Sorry. I usually ask to many questions. What is your name?"

 

"Im Sial," the Novice of that name replied in her precice accent. "And I agree-lets clean up quick! Though you might be a bit beyond quick. Perhaps you should stand near the oven or something and dry off a bit. Or by the spitroast, though I dont advise it..." she lowered her voice. "Not unless you want to be accosiated with the soap all over it. Lets clean up and get to the other side of the kitchen before someone eats it and realises."

[Moseley]

Her accent betrayed her mystery the moment she spoke. Crisp Cairhienian, Salandrian would recognize it anywhere. And knowing the novices origin also betrayed something about the girl as well. Sial looked rather surprised to hear Salandrian give her name, though maybe it was her accent, or something about being Ebou Dari. Any love lost was quickly forgotten when Sial had numerous suggestions of places Salandrian could dry her bum.

 

"We should clean this mess up first though. I'll go and fetch a few rags and a bucket. That way, we can look like we are cleaning the floors, so no one can catch us in the act!" She hurried away to get the things, and came back, arms full. After tossing a rag to Sial, they began to clean the floors. As she bent down, a huge shadow fell in front of the light. Salandrian looked up and saw the dreaded Mistress of the Kitchens.

 

"What do you two think you are doing?" she boomed over the dull roar of the kitchen. "I...uh...well...we were...uh," Salandrian stammered as the Mistress of the Kitchen glared at her. She thought suddenly of Saline, and summoned up her courage. "We were just...uh...cleaning the floor, ma'am!" Sial breathed a noticable sigh of relief. "We noticed some...er- glaze from the pig had found it's way to the floor and...um- OH!" Sial pinched Salandrian in the leg, and then she realized a horrible mistake she had made in mentioning the pig as the massive cook let out a cry. NO!!! My...boar! You two! The huge woman's spit was flying every which direction out of her mouth, her face the color of the pig (or was it a boar?) a few hours prior. This was not good...

 

OoC: I hope I didn't NWC Sial too much!

[Siemba]

Cleaning the floor had been a good scheme, in Sials opinion. It had been a good scheme, that was, until the Mistress of the Kitchens had made an apperance. In fairness, Sial was impressed at how quickly Salandrian had answered; quick enough to be prompt without sounding overguilty. She herself had been busy attempting to think up a good lie, so her new aqquaintances quick truth-telling was a relief.

 

A relief, that was, until Salandrian had begun to elabourate. There was no way Sial could have stopped the words coming out of the other Novices mouth, though she pinched her in an attempt to signal that the boar was not to be mentioned. Not that it was a bad lie.  It was a good lie, with enough truth to not be exactly a lie and enough to make any expressions more believable. Oh, Salandrian! Why oh why did you have to mention the bloody boar?

 

NO!!! My...boar! You two! roared the Mistress of the Kitchens. Sial suddenly felt very vunrable kneeling on a slippery floor with a rag in her hands. She had no doubt that the woman could smack the both of them around the kitchen. That would be...bad. Though the rag did come in handy for warding off the saliva that flew from the plump womans mouth: it was unpleasently like being caught in the rain.

 

The cairheinin woman thought quickly. Very quickly. The Mistress had not started yelling because she had tasted the stray soap suds. At least their real crime, accidental though it was, was hidden. On the other hand, if the fat woman flipped out over glaze dripping off the pig, what would she do when she realised that the whole thing tasted of Essence Da Soap? They were in trouble now-they would be in hot water if the truth came out, and possibly not only methaphrically; the Mistress of the Kicthens had several pots big enough to stew a few stray Novices. Sial wasnt sure she would put it past her, either.

 

Sial stood up, stopping short of dragging Saladrian to her feet too, and curtsied. Poorly. She really couldnt get the hang of curtsying, but that was the least of her worries. Salandrian had been doing well with the story (until she drew attention to the boar) so there was no reason not to carry her story on. Then escape. Quickly.

 

"Yes, we were mopping up glaze from the floor-probably dropped by Judei, shes clumsy like that-" Oh, Light, there better not be a Novice called Judei or shes going to bloody hurt me "-but we were actually going to a Saidar lesson in the um, library now as we have finished our kitchen chore, right Salandrian?" Sial spoke briskly, carefully backing away from the Mistress of the Kitchens. If their story didnt work, at least it was a distraction. Maybe they would have longer to run. She looked at her new friend, though she doubted that Saladrian wouldnt have caught on, and inclined her head a tiny fraction toward the exit while attempting to curtsy again.

[Moseley]

Why was Sial curtsying at a time like this? The Mistress of Kitchens had exploded at them, and there she was, nearly simpering! Then Salandrian realized that they were not in Ebou Dar, and there would be no fight. The two novices would have to deceive their way out of this soapy, if not sticky, situation. She followed Sial's lead and curtsied awkwardly.

 

"Yes, we were mopping up glaze from the floor-probably dropped by Judei-she's clumsy like that-but we were actually going to a saidar lesson in the um, library now as we have finished our kitchen chore, right Salandrian?" Before Sial had finished her story, she caught on and continued without pause.

 

"Yes, Sial. I hope that Estel Sedai doesn't punish us because we're so late! We've got to run!" Salandrian walked backwards as she talked, then smiled, turned and ran.

[Siemba]

Sial followed Salandrian without a pause. Running looked suspicious, but then, there was a very good reason why they looked suspicious. Besides, Salandrian had very neatly explained why they were running. The other woman was obviously not daft. Any second now, the Mistress of the Kitchens would smell a rat (or possibly a soapy pig) and quick witted or not, there would be no getting out of that.

 

So Sial galloped. It was impressive, really, that she did not slip over again but they had managed to mop up some soap at least. "Nice one," she muttered at Salandrian with a grin as they fled. "Lets just hope the old goat doesnt bloody think to talk to Estel Sedai!"