Ta'Vaalor's Guardian Keep: A Day in the Life of Arnranaer Evor Vaalor

Ta'Vaalor's Guardian Keep: A Day in the Life of Arnranaer Evor Vaalor is an Official GemStone IV Document, and it is protected from editing.

Ta'Vaalor's Guardian Keep: A Day in the Life of Arnranaer Evor Vaalor

High Porter Arnranaer Evor Vaalor examined the line of pages before him, his eyes glancing over their identical golden tabards, crimson leggings, and crimson shirts. He made yet another mental note to ask for their shoes to be a bit more practical – long, curled toes with tasseled ends were not exactly the best way to ensure swift, silent delivery of messages. He had to admit to himself they looked like the fresh, young nobles-to-be they were. Ranging in age from seven to seventeen, this crop included more than one young female. After brushing a stray piece of lint off the crimson-embroidered wyvern on the end page's tabard, he finally spoke.

"It is time for you to assume your duties within Guardian Keep," High Porter Arnranaer announced. "In preparation, I am here to remind you of your duties and quiz you as to your readiness."

A couple of the younger pages shifted their weight nervously, causing an audible rustle of silk. Sharp looks to the young blond in the middle and the third page from the left, a young girl, encouraged them to return to the straight-ahead stare pages were to maintain at all times.

"The main duty of a page is to run messages between officials throughout the Keep. You must do it swiftly, silently, and, most important of all, accurately."

"We will begin with you," High Porter Arnranaer stated as he stopped in front of a sixteen year old with light brown hair. "Who would you deliver a message to if you were instructed to ask about the menu for tonight's dinner?"

The page, his eyes meeting Arnranaer's, said, "Master of the Kitchen Eroldyna Renuaonna Vaalor, milord. She makes the menu for the King's board and for the servants, both.

Arnranaer nodded once, then moved on to his next target, a much younger youth. To meet the seven-year-old's eyes, the High Porter bent down a bit. "And who reports to the Master of the Kitchen, youngling?"

Squeaking with nervousness, the youth answered," The Pantler, Afor Throvarafel Vaalor, milord! He makes the best bread and honey!" Blushing as he realized his gaffe, the youth went on more seriously, "and the Butler, Gildrim F-fisquelanna Vaalor and the Butcher, Sehean Casath-thvia Vaalor, milord." The blush deepened as he stammered the last two names.

Arnranaer smiled slightly as he nodded to the youth, scion of one of the noblest families of Vaalor. "Correct, but you must practice your pronunciation! This evening, repeat each of those names perfectly five times to me before your supper. It is Gildrim Fisquelanna Vaalor the Butler and Sehean Casathvia Vaalor the Butcher."

The youth nodded his agreement and said, "Thank you, milord High Porter," in a relieved tone. He could not keep his eyes from straying to the willow switch in the corner of the High Porter's office.

Taking a couple of strides down the line, Arnranaer picked his next victim. This time, it was a striking red haired teenage girl with blue eyes. She had had trouble adjusting to court life, he recalled, having come from a family of petty nobles on the edge of Vaalor's holdings. "Tell me the duties of the three who report to the Master of the Kitchen."

Staring straight ahead, the girl answered in a clear voice, "Milord, the Butcher inspects all meats that come into the Keep and prepares them with his staff. The Butler is in charge of the wines, spirits, ales and beers. And the Pantler is in charge of procuring everything else from bread to cheese to napery."

"Very good, Page Veritia," the High Porter said. "Now, one more question: who does the Master of the Kitchen report to?"

After pondering slightly, she replied, "The Lord Chamberlain, milord. Retassal er'Anlan Vaalor."

"You will do, young lady." Backing up slightly, Arnranaer stopped at another page, this one almost stodgy compared to his more lithe brethren. Rumors abounded about his male parentage, as his mother and her household had been assigned to far away lands when he was born, but there was no proof he was not suited for Elven court. Still, there was talk.

"Who else reports to the Lord Chamberlain, Page?"