Melata visits Benden Hold.
RL Date: 6/17/2007
IC Date: 6/1/12
Great Hall, Benden Hold(#366RJM)
Beneath the vaulted ceilings of this friendly Hall is where people gather to eat, gossip, sing and work. Three large hearths are set into walls, with detailed tapestries adorning the rest of the spaces. The stone floors have colorful rugs scattered across them.
The heat of summer doesn't make its way inside the Hall and the cooler air creates a pleasant place to sit and relax. During the evening hours, residents sit down for a hearty dinner, lingering over their meals to chat together. Many stay after dinner to socialize or finish up the day's tasks.
Directly opposite the metal doors going south back to the Courtyard, is the formal Meeting Hall. To the east a large archway leads to the working caverns and in the western wall is a smaller arch that opens into the gaming room. A stone staircase in the northeastern corner takes one up to residence areas and guest rooms. It is the northwestern path leading to the kitchens that sees the most traffic.
Melata steps in from the courtyard, the metal doors sliding shut behind her.
Melata has arrived.
Melata enters the Great Hall of Benden Hold, a rider with a purpose...at least a purpose until she sees the busy-ness of the Hall. She sighs...she always forgets how big this Hall is.
Melata shakes her head, then heads to the nearest person she can find (who happens to be Nathein, although she, of course, does not know his name).
The nearest person she can find, who happens to be Nathein, finishes up a hand of cards with a dour looking guard. The guard brushes past Melata with a cursory apology; Nathein follows the man with his eyes, which eventually has him looking square at Melata herself. A quick look takes in her knot and he's suddenly all manners: "Good evening, miss. Something you need?"
Melata wrinkles her nose slightly at the card game. "Evening. I am Melata, out of High Reaches Weyr. I owe the Weyr steward a favor, and he's having me pay it back by sending me on errands all over Pern, it seems. He has a brother here: perhaps you know of one 'Brandon'? I've not seen him, but the Steward says he'd be tall, dark-haired, and works in the kitchens."
Melata continues, "Or, if you don't, maybe you can direct me to someone who does? I've had...bad experiences going into kitchens uninvited, else I'd go straight away that route."
Nathein, in an effort to be polite, or to drive home his point perhaps, stands up and scoots in his chair. The cards disappear for now into the pocket of his pants. Tall. Dark-haired. "I'd fit the bill, but I don't work in the kitchens, miss. If you're afraid--" He grins a touch at that, inclining his head toward the seemingly innocuous kitchen. "If you're afraid, I could stick my head in and holler for Brandon and see who answers?"
Melata rolls her eyes, "I'm not afraid, but non-kitchen staff in the High Reaches Weyr kitchen isn't always a good thing. Unless you like peeling tubers. The headbaker will set even Wingleaders and visitors to peeling tubers, if one isn't careful. If you could look for Brandon in there, or see where he is, I'd be appreciative. And you are...?"
The look on Nathein's face is knowing, shaded by leftovers of his grin. Clearly, he still thinks Melata's afraid. "I am bad-mannered." He laughs blandly. "Obviously. Nathein, whose parents own a farmhold up the road. If you're ever in the market for fresh produce. Just wait here a moment and I'll see if I can rouse this Brandon fellow, right?"
Melata nods, "Sounds good to me."
Actions to words, Nathein sets off toward the kitchens with unfounded determination. He stays in there a while, with no telling what's going on beyond the archway, only to return by and by with an empty-handed shrug. "Bad timing, miss. He's got the night off, not due back till breakfast. Would you like to leave a message or something?" asks the self-appointed secretary to the kitchens.
Melata rolls her eyes, "Just my luck." She pats at a satchel she is carrying, "I think it may be best if I come back another time, then. The steward asked me to deliver a small package, and said it should go to his brother specifically." She looks up at the Hall, then back at Nathein, "So, you said you are from a small cothold up the road, then?"
Nathein says with only a little defensiveness, "I'm not a thief. But suit yourself, miss." To take the edge off, he smiles and resumes his earlier seat. "I did. Though it's more that my family's from up that way. Farmers. You're the second Reaches rider I've met at Benden, though. Is that strange?"
Nathein waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nothing's with it, miss." Again, he smiles. "Ah, the girl's name was..." He goes from smiling to squinting quickly, tugging his lower lip with his fingers as he ransacks his memory. "Shan-something. The dragon was a green, named Kaylith. I remember that part. She didn't stay too long."
Melata nods, "Shanlee. She's Snowstrike Wingsecond. What brought her down here?"
Nathein makes a glib effort: "Her dragon, I imagine."
Melata raises one eyebrow at Nathein, a look she commonly bestows upon the many young riders, fresh from Weyrlinghood, she's had over the years. "Well, I'm sure she didn't fly on the backs of a team of firelizards or go between on her own," she answers sarcastically.
Nathein smiles through the look, shrugging at Melata like he can't help himself. "It's probably a safe bet. If you meant /why/ did she come, I'm not sure on that. I don't think she said, or that I remember what it was if she did say. I just remember that she had some very nice things to say about Lady Jeracynn, and then she went on her way."
Melata nods, "I see. Well, I don't see, but that's okay. With the rogue thread falling, more people, like the High Reaches steward, are using firelizards and riders to move messages that they used to send overland." She scrunches her face in thought. "Well, I guess I'd better be getting back to High Reaches, after I finish the Steward's other messages. I am guessing another rider will be by in the morning to give Brandon his package since I have sweeps."
Nathein holds up three fingers and grins behind them. "Busy place, Benden Hold. It was nice to meet you, Melata." Out come the cards, like wolves that have just been waiting for the chance to dart back into camp.
Melata nods to Nathein and heads back out to the courtyard for her dargon.
Her dragon, even.
Melata opens the metal doors and walks out into the courtyard.
Melata has left.
IC Date: 6/1/12
Great Hall, Benden Hold(#366RJM)
Beneath the vaulted ceilings of this friendly Hall is where people gather to eat, gossip, sing and work. Three large hearths are set into walls, with detailed tapestries adorning the rest of the spaces. The stone floors have colorful rugs scattered across them.
The heat of summer doesn't make its way inside the Hall and the cooler air creates a pleasant place to sit and relax. During the evening hours, residents sit down for a hearty dinner, lingering over their meals to chat together. Many stay after dinner to socialize or finish up the day's tasks.
Directly opposite the metal doors going south back to the Courtyard, is the formal Meeting Hall. To the east a large archway leads to the working caverns and in the western wall is a smaller arch that opens into the gaming room. A stone staircase in the northeastern corner takes one up to residence areas and guest rooms. It is the northwestern path leading to the kitchens that sees the most traffic.
Melata steps in from the courtyard, the metal doors sliding shut behind her.
Melata has arrived.
Melata enters the Great Hall of Benden Hold, a rider with a purpose...at least a purpose until she sees the busy-ness of the Hall. She sighs...she always forgets how big this Hall is.
Melata shakes her head, then heads to the nearest person she can find (who happens to be Nathein, although she, of course, does not know his name).
The nearest person she can find, who happens to be Nathein, finishes up a hand of cards with a dour looking guard. The guard brushes past Melata with a cursory apology; Nathein follows the man with his eyes, which eventually has him looking square at Melata herself. A quick look takes in her knot and he's suddenly all manners: "Good evening, miss. Something you need?"
Melata wrinkles her nose slightly at the card game. "Evening. I am Melata, out of High Reaches Weyr. I owe the Weyr steward a favor, and he's having me pay it back by sending me on errands all over Pern, it seems. He has a brother here: perhaps you know of one 'Brandon'? I've not seen him, but the Steward says he'd be tall, dark-haired, and works in the kitchens."
Melata continues, "Or, if you don't, maybe you can direct me to someone who does? I've had...bad experiences going into kitchens uninvited, else I'd go straight away that route."
Nathein, in an effort to be polite, or to drive home his point perhaps, stands up and scoots in his chair. The cards disappear for now into the pocket of his pants. Tall. Dark-haired. "I'd fit the bill, but I don't work in the kitchens, miss. If you're afraid--" He grins a touch at that, inclining his head toward the seemingly innocuous kitchen. "If you're afraid, I could stick my head in and holler for Brandon and see who answers?"
Melata rolls her eyes, "I'm not afraid, but non-kitchen staff in the High Reaches Weyr kitchen isn't always a good thing. Unless you like peeling tubers. The headbaker will set even Wingleaders and visitors to peeling tubers, if one isn't careful. If you could look for Brandon in there, or see where he is, I'd be appreciative. And you are...?"
The look on Nathein's face is knowing, shaded by leftovers of his grin. Clearly, he still thinks Melata's afraid. "I am bad-mannered." He laughs blandly. "Obviously. Nathein, whose parents own a farmhold up the road. If you're ever in the market for fresh produce. Just wait here a moment and I'll see if I can rouse this Brandon fellow, right?"
Melata nods, "Sounds good to me."
Actions to words, Nathein sets off toward the kitchens with unfounded determination. He stays in there a while, with no telling what's going on beyond the archway, only to return by and by with an empty-handed shrug. "Bad timing, miss. He's got the night off, not due back till breakfast. Would you like to leave a message or something?" asks the self-appointed secretary to the kitchens.
Melata rolls her eyes, "Just my luck." She pats at a satchel she is carrying, "I think it may be best if I come back another time, then. The steward asked me to deliver a small package, and said it should go to his brother specifically." She looks up at the Hall, then back at Nathein, "So, you said you are from a small cothold up the road, then?"
Nathein says with only a little defensiveness, "I'm not a thief. But suit yourself, miss." To take the edge off, he smiles and resumes his earlier seat. "I did. Though it's more that my family's from up that way. Farmers. You're the second Reaches rider I've met at Benden, though. Is that strange?"
Nathein waves his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nothing's with it, miss." Again, he smiles. "Ah, the girl's name was..." He goes from smiling to squinting quickly, tugging his lower lip with his fingers as he ransacks his memory. "Shan-something. The dragon was a green, named Kaylith. I remember that part. She didn't stay too long."
Melata nods, "Shanlee. She's Snowstrike Wingsecond. What brought her down here?"
Nathein makes a glib effort: "Her dragon, I imagine."
Melata raises one eyebrow at Nathein, a look she commonly bestows upon the many young riders, fresh from Weyrlinghood, she's had over the years. "Well, I'm sure she didn't fly on the backs of a team of firelizards or go between on her own," she answers sarcastically.
Nathein smiles through the look, shrugging at Melata like he can't help himself. "It's probably a safe bet. If you meant /why/ did she come, I'm not sure on that. I don't think she said, or that I remember what it was if she did say. I just remember that she had some very nice things to say about Lady Jeracynn, and then she went on her way."
Melata nods, "I see. Well, I don't see, but that's okay. With the rogue thread falling, more people, like the High Reaches steward, are using firelizards and riders to move messages that they used to send overland." She scrunches her face in thought. "Well, I guess I'd better be getting back to High Reaches, after I finish the Steward's other messages. I am guessing another rider will be by in the morning to give Brandon his package since I have sweeps."
Nathein holds up three fingers and grins behind them. "Busy place, Benden Hold. It was nice to meet you, Melata." Out come the cards, like wolves that have just been waiting for the chance to dart back into camp.
Melata nods to Nathein and heads back out to the courtyard for her dargon.
Her dragon, even.
Melata opens the metal doors and walks out into the courtyard.
Melata has left.