Meeting the Tanner

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Weather:            Cloudy

Time:               Mid Afternoon <16>

Season:             Summer

Date:               Orbelain - August 24, 3045

Real Time:          Tue Dec 09 18:00:52 2008

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It is mid-afternoon on a beautiful summer day, white clouds floating lazily in an azure sky, an easy breeze drifting across the lands, making the day not too hot. Yet here, the breeze is anything but pleasant, for the wind can\'t help but pick up the foul stench of the tannery. Decaying animal skins, dung, urine--these are the tools for curing leather, even among the noble sons of Gondor. Today, as on every day, the tannery is busy. Men, children, even women labor here, scraping hair and fat from skins or else using long poles to move animal skins around in pits filled with various foul matters.

Among those here is Lathnoss, the tanner who raised Ceredir. A man of about 50, he has dark hair and a round face made harsh looking from long years of exposure to sun, wind, and this foul place. He is dressed in leather trousers and a leather apron and sits, skinning fat from an animal skin today.

[BOR(#30834)]

His aquiline nose turns at the smell and a particularly distasteful expression twists his face. Bor has been many revolting places, dungeons included, but the smell here is far worse. He spits on the ground forcefully.

He makes his way this way and that amidst the clamor of the tannery, spying each face as he goes. It is not long before he gives up and calls out instead:

\"I have come for Lathnoss!\"

Clearly here is a high-born man in their midst, one out of place, and the tannery workers look up to stare, a few grinning toothily behind the Knight\'s back, but none daring to do so to his face. Two of the children point toward Lathnoss, but there is no need: On hearing his name, Lathnoss has set aside his work and stood up.

He crosses the yard now, the pungent smell of urine from the leather piece he had been working on clinging to him with every step. \"My lord...\" Lathnoss frowns upon seeing Bor. \"My lord, what would bring one such as you to a place like this?\" He speaks with deference, but his small grey eyes are furthered narrowed with something else. Greed, perhaps.

[BOR(#30834)]

Bor snaps:

\"Business, man. You will be rewarded handsomely.\"

He produces from within a cloak a small leather bag that jingles as it surfaces. The Knight tosses it up and down a few times, evaluating its weight.

\"Are you a businessman, Lathnoss?\"

The tanner\'s eyes fairly glint with greed as he eyes that pouch, eyes the Knight, then licks his lips. \"Aye, m\'lord. I believe you\'ll find I\'m particularly amenable to...\" Lathnoss eyes the pouch again, \"business. In fact,\" he ventures a boast, \"I am known for it. How may I serve m\'lord?\"

[BOR(#30834)]

\"I will be blunt with you,\" begins Bor. \"You raised a boy named Ceredir and abandoned him with the idea that he was born to Elenur, a man of my House.\"

Bor tucks the money away into his cloak for the time being.

\"I need the mother\'s name. You give me the name, I give you the gold.\"

\"Ceredir!\" Lathnoss spits out the name and then spits on the ground. \"Is that what this is all about? That piece of dung bastard?! How should I know the kid\'s mother\'s name? He\'s not my son... What?\" The tanner\'s eyes narrow again, this time in anger. \"Is he going around claiming I\'m his father? Wanting a piece of my business here? Is that what this is?\"

[BOR(#30834)]

\"Silence!\" roars Bor.

\"Would I be here if he was claiming you as his father? I have much more important matters to attend to then a tanner\'s son!\" He narrows his eyes upon Lathnoss.

\"Do you have the name or not?\"

Anger flares in the man\'s eyes, but Lathnoss knows his place in this society, it would seem. \"My lord, I was never told the boy\'s name. Now...the father....that I could provide you with,\" he sneers.

[BOR(#30834)]

\"We are done here,\" says Bor evenly.

He retrieves the bag from inside his cloak and hands it to one of the children that pointed out Lathnoss, patting him on the head.

\"Make sure that wretch smells not a whiff of this, boy.\"

Lathnoss watches the man go, eyes narrowed, but saying nothing. Then once the Knight leaves, he cuffs the boy on the head and takes the pouch of money, noone stopping him from doing so.