(122-03-23) A Scholar and a Troubador
A Scholar and a Troubador
Summary: Siyu and Madrighal discuss plagiarism.
Date: Date of play (23/03/122)
Related: http://gobmush.wikidot.com/plot:citadel-and-sept

Madrighal's colour is better as if he's started getting a bit of sun. He makes his slow and careful way down the stairs, carrying a massive mahogany serpent, the musical instrument, not the reptile. he moves like an old man, but his smile is bright enough.

Siyu takes a deep breath, he is dressed in clean linen, makeup applied, he looks as fancy as a merchant can be, while servants attend to him, cleaning up though from the appearance of the High Lady Alaeyna. He is eating and drinking as a guest still, leaning back nd trying to relax, but…she has retired, which means now he is a freeloader, and he's just taking advantage. Drinking wine, watching the cleanup around him as he eats the food in front of him, and for the most part is just observing.

The nigh skeletal musician scans the hall as if looking for someone, but failing to spot that person, raises his eyebrows at the sight of Siyu. He shuffles carefully in his direction, "Master Siyu, wasn't it? How go your studies?"

Siyu sips the strong wine from his cup, "In linguistics. Well ,a few more books and I think I can write and informed report, otherwise. Slow, the difficulties with the Masters Library…" he shakes his head a bit, looking back up the stairs, "I was just called by the High lady I suppose she heard the rumors of me…so here I am a guest of…of the Dornsih?" he nods and eats a date. "What of you, eat some, you look as death."

Madrighal sighs, "I get enough of that from the Maester." Still, he gamey sits and picks politely at the food. "I too am Dornish. Which Lady did you meet." he perks up a bit, "Was it the Lady Daenna Yarwood, perhaps?"

Siyu ahems a bit "Highlady Alaeyna Fowler…" he says simply and he plucks another date and drinks his wine. He takes a deep breath and sighs, "YOu have good food here, and decent wine, but I feel I am ambushed every time I come here." he laughs. He looks you over and he shakes his head some, "So you are Dornish too, that makes sense…hm, you are a bard for those here?"

Madrighal smiles crookedly, "Did she eat you for dinner or treat you to one? Did she try to get you to play the knife game with her?" He shrugs, "I was in house troubadour for the Quill and I am still composer for the Whimsey. Here, I play mostly for my own pleasure." A cloud passes over the sunlight of his smile, "I do not… perform publicly outside these walls since I fell ill. I am not what I once was."

Siyu ahems, "She just asked for my attention and I came and told her my story. SHe offered wine and treats so here I am, sitting and drinking, though no longer alone…" he nods his head a small bit and he sighs a little bit. "So you recover, slowly, bit by it then, until you are stronger? Such is the ways of wasting sickness, tough I assume you are cured of it?"

Madrighal nods, and looks down, searching for the perfect tidbit to nibble, "I was one of the first to fall ill and one of the last to recover among those who did not die or lose their wits. I was in bed a month and barely able to keep anything down…. I could not walk at first, and sitting was a struggle. I am much better now."

Siyu nods his head, "So you were one of those who were sick, I see, it seemed like a black time, the city has recovered yet the victims remain, a dangerous, dark time…sickness in a city…" he ponders, "Still you can only grow stronger. Death has asked you to join your family, and you have said it is not your time. You must have more to do here then"

Madrighal smiles crookedly, "I missed it really. My fever was so high that I really don't remember much. It was harder for the Maesters, I think." he shrugs again, "There are songs to sings and play. That will have to be enough."

Siyu nods, "Still a man must eat and drink, a man does not get stronger by fasting. I do not know if you are religious, but even they do not demand sacrifice form the sick yes." he smiles, "It always shocks me to see the thin and the hungry…it still does. There is abundance here if you look for it, yet…" he motions.

Madrighal rolls his eyes, "I eat. I just… have not much appetite. Trust me, I get enough nagging if I do not.

Siyu smirks some, "Many people have told you this eh?" he laughs some, "I understand then, though hear it from an outsider, their concerns are not invalid…" he leans back and he stretches and lays back upon the pillows and drinks his wine. "Do you wish to try a song on me…what is it you wish to ask or talk to be about?"

You say, "I come down every day and eat and make conversation. I spotted a familiar face and wondered how the research went."

Siyu leans back, "You are talking about my…linguistic research?" h asks as he leans back, glancing around, and he takes a deep breath, "You are involved with that…maester yes?" he asks. Not wanting to use specifics.

You say, "We are friends. He looked after me during my illness. I am not much up for adventures of my owen, so it is nice to have someone telling me the gossip.""

Siyu looks around and sighs, "I have investigated and there are…" He considers, "There a…a number of inconsistencies…in the works published and the source works references." he says finally and nods, "I am preparing a report, a full paper. I assume that maesters are very formal yes? I have found vellum and Irongall ink…" he ahems.

Madrighal flashes him a grin, "That is brilliant! And yes, a formal report is best. Maester Leandro is not particularly formal, but the others mostly are."

Siyu clears his throat, "It is not wonderful, some of his ideas are good and the way he puts things together is good but he copied nearly all of the ideas as he own!" he huffs, "Frankly it would have been fine if he pieced together his theory upon the others but…" he rolls his head some, "He seems to be a man who wants the acclaim. He wishes his praise. So he stole, and this is the proof of it." he grumbles. "It is lazy scholarship…" he nods slowly and shudders. "if such a thing happened in the Imperial city he would be mounted to a pole…and cut. Once for each stolen world."

Madrighal says quietly, "We all stand on the shoulders of others. The work of others influences what we create. We learn to play and sing the songs of others before we create our own, but you do not see me claiming to have composed 'The Curious Mermaid' or…" Here he shudders in disgust, "'The Bear and the Maiden Fair.' I think it is omething similar with scholars and dishonest."

Siyu nods, "You understand my hesitation then. His work is sound…but only as a minor addition. He claims more then he should, by stealing the ideas of others. His research…is good. A minor book on what he has learned does him well. But…" he shakes his head. "Again…in my land, of the Imperial Library. He would be a scholar…a given rank, treated to all the luxuries of true thinkers. He would be marched, stripped and cut. With this man words, he would be cut until not an inch of flesh was left pale. He would run red. And die. Hopefully soon after. Though the cutters of the Eternal Emperor are very good."

Madrighal winces at the description of the cutting, but does not object, "So you see Maester Leandro's concern… They are not so… enthusiastic about punishment, but he will lose his power and what name he has. They will never forget he did this thing and his life will be ruined. Everywhere he goes and whatever he does, those who have power over him will look at him with contempt and treat him accordingly."

Siyu sighs, "I am disappointed because I LEARNED something from him. As I said, it is a minor correlation between other works and the potential origin of languages. A man who has new knowledge to share should NOT be ashamed of it yet…" he finishes his wine and reaches for the bottle. A servant is trying to clean it up. He is no of course a freeloading guest. "So now I must say you deserve none of your praise. No one will remember he discovered this minor thing. They will only remember his cheating of it…it is justice of course I do not deny it is justice. He has great privilege as you say I just…I do not understand. I am a scholar. If some…if someone reads what I have wrote, a thousand years hence and leans something, my spirit will be joyous….no matter how small it may be…but…I…" he drinks again, "I do not understand.

Madrighal gestures and the servant leaves and returns with a carafe with more wine and a goblet for Madrighal. There servants leave them in peace from then on. He nods, taking Siyu's disappointment seriously. "Perhaps the first time was an accident. A tired man mistaking a quote for a note he made himself, and discovered after others read it. But each time it got a little easier to cut corners, to cheat. he had people to impress and a career to think of. An honest man would have acknowledged the first error, apologized and striven to do better. If he were virtuous, he would not have harmed himself and those who trusted him this way.

Siyu nods his head a little bit and he sighs, "He is not an honest man. It is true. He is not. He has benefited from his dishonesty. He is in a position of importance. He is a scholar who should be revered…yet he is not honest about it…" he sighs. "He will not be killed or executed will he?" he asks. "That is…I suppose." he thinks, "This paper will discredit him. But he will still have a room, and food. yes?"

Madrighal says firmly, "He will not be killed for it, nor will they kick him out of the order, though he might leave on his own. Odds are they will send him away to somewhere not very important to heal the sick and teach young children their letters. He will loose his power and esteem, but will not be physically harmed or even made to go hungry."

Siyu nods his head a bit, "Then it is all I could hope for. He has stolen from his ancestors. Those who have came before. He had his chance,s his opportunities. He shall not claim more from them." he nods firmly. "Very well I shall finish it tonight and submit it tomorrow…" he sighs again and leans back, resting his head upon the cushions. "Such a life…well…enough of that. What else do you wish to talk about?"

Madrighal nods and takes a careful sip of his wine. It is an excellent dry white, "This wine before us is from my country. People imagine Dorne is all desert, but the grapes this comes from grow along the Greenblood River, the river at the heart of my Homeland. The boatmen still speak Rhoynish there and if you ever sail up it, you will see vines and fields and orchards. I can not drink it as I once did, but each glass is made of sunlight on growing fruit and tastes of home. Do they have such where you come from? What drinks do they drink in your empire and know you any drinking songs in your own language?"

Siyu takes a deep breath and he leans back, "The jungle is all around us, we live with the jungle, but the rich rivers of the Jade…provide for us….we terrace. We terrace the grape, the rice, the wheat. We drink Wine, sake, beer is…rare but in the north. We drink…great bounty…" he smiles, "our harvest are always full, and there are…there are…but I cannot carry a tune for you bard…"

Madrighal listens carefully, head cocked and bright eyed. He grins, "Drink deep until you do not mind singing, and I will listen. I am good at finding a tune in the wandering of amateurs. I collect music. I am interested in the way songs change as they travel and the songs people from other places sing and how they are the same and different from those I know.""

Siyu shakes his head, "Oh no…no no no I will not no no…" he laughs some and finishes his dates, "I suppose I should go. If you're trying to entice me to song, you won't get me" he laughs some. "Still tel the Maester I will….I will submit my findings shortly."

Madrighal laughs along with him, "Next time, perhaps. If I see the Maester I will tell him."

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