[Log] You'll See
Who: R'dur, Sorren
When: Day 16, Month 2, Turn 8
Where: Living Cavern, Telgar Weyr
What: R'dur answers Sorren's questions about the hatching and other things.
Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern
This huge cavern is sufficiently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for mealtimes: currently for the evening meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it. Branches of evergreens and glistening winter berries are ornaments of the season.
A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.
Contents:
PLAYERS: R'dur Pierron Sorren
OTHER: Telgar Serving Tables
Obvious Exits:
Inner Caverns Kitchen Bowl
Sorren
Sorren is a rather serious looking young woman, though some sincere half-smiles do shine through on occasion. She has a mildly tanned complexion framed by dark blonde hair, streaked reddish here and there from the sun. It looks like she's never had a haircut in her life, but she has the mass quantity of hair tied back in a ponytail with a bit of fishing string. Her features and slight physique make one think of a child with rounded cheeks, a soft chin, and expressive hazel eyes, though her age appears to be in the late teens or possibly early twenties.
Her plain but neat clothing suggests a Tillek origin, consisting of a loosely fitting undyed wool knitted tunic over a brown ankle length skirt. She wears the white knot of a Telgar Weyr candidate. Noticing your scrutiny, she meets your gaze with a respectful nod, her eyes denoting a calculating intelligence at odds with her common appearance.
Sorren is sitting at one of the tables, eating a light meal of fishrolls, while chatting politely with Pierron.
Ducking inside the living cavern, R'dur slows his pace, dusting snow from himself. Then, he heads to the serving tables, perusing them slowly and finally taking a plate and filling it with herdbeast and assorted vegetables before turning. The rider waffles over a table in the somewhat crowded cavern and eventually moves toward Sorren's, offering the girl a small smile, her company a warier glance. "Ah. Sorren. Do you mind if I join you?" he asks the candidate.
Sorren gives a warm half-smile and moves her plate to make room. "Not at all, R'dur, please I'd be delighted." she answers. Her eyes seem to come alive, as if R'dur is the first person she's seen besides Pierron in days!
R'dur's smile brightens at Sorren's words, and he settles comfortably into the chair beside her. "Oh, good. How are you?" he asks the girl politely as he spreads out his meal before him. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything? I just thought, I don't know, I'd come see how you're doing. Are you enjoying candidacy so far?"
Sorren nods. "No, I was just having dinner. I'm enjoying being here, if that is what you mean, though I though there'd be more people. I guess everyone is terribly busy and all. I haven't seen many other candidtates around, either." She hands her empty plate to Pierron. "The young lad you brought in the other day, he seems so lost." she adds, with a compassionate look on her face.
"More people?" R'dur sounds almost scandalized, eyes widening as he glances around the bustling living cavern dubiously. "Where did you say you were from again? I can't imagine /not/ finding the Weyr busy--it's so... so... big," he finishes lamely, shaking his head. "I'd never seen so many people until I left my little hold for Southern Weyr. It was amazing--it still is, really, even though it's been about seven or eight turns now since I did leave." His frown is nostalgic, but brief, as he sets about eating slowly, one item in its entirety at a time. "Oh, ah. Aethe?" he asks after a moment. "He did, I think. I haven't managed to speak to him lately, so I hope he's alright," worries the brownrider. "You candidates, you all seem so tired after chores I feel terrible for working them like that."
Sorren looks around. "Well, yes, everyone is always rushing this way and that. I am sorry, I am used to Tillek and the throngs of people there, I guess." She thinks on the chores. "The chores, at least in my opinion, are manageable. It's not anything I haven't done all my life, honestly. One must work to live."
"Throngs," repeats R'dur, smiling. "That's a good word for it. I'm really glad, though, the chores aren't overwhelming. I remember when I was a candidate the way some of the others felt about them, and..." He shakes his head. "I'm glad you don't feel that way. I wish you'd explain that to... Well. Nevermind," he breaks off whatever unflattering statement he was about to say about some candidate.
An understanding smile spreads across Sorren's face. "Perhaps I shall complain publicly in the candidate's barracks about the drudgery of life as a fisherman's child in Tillek. It may, shall we say, give a bad alternative comparison to being a candidate."
R'dur bites back a grin, nodding. "It might," he agrees. "There are some, I think, that don't understand that we don't /mean/ to treat them badly--and, well. We /don't/, for that matter. But some of them, I've realized, weren't raised doing chores and helping out in their holds when they were younger. My brothers and sisters and I were put to work as soon as we were old enough. I can't imagine /not/ working, for that matter."
Sorren nods, understanding. "Well, to each his own fostering, as my mother used to say. I can imagine that one must work hard to fight thread, so one must learn to work." she says matter-of-fact-like.
R'dur nods at that. "Indeed," he agrees. "I remember when it was falling, though I never got the chance to fly against it. Alidaeth hatched about three turns too late for that, though neither of us ever really minded. It... it takes an unusual sort of person to want to risk his life like that," admits the man, ducking his head. He pokes idly at a fingerroot on his plate, frowning at it. "Anyway," he says after a moment, in a forcedly cheerful tone, "you'll not have to do those chores for long. If you don't impress, you're free to go, and if you do, well. That's a whole new set of a chores."
Sorren swallows, seeming a bit nervous. "Would it be . . .I mean . . .do you think I could, um, stay here, in some capacity, if I don't impress? I am a hard worker. I could help with anything, really." She looks almost frightened.
R'dur blinks, glancing around at Sorren blankly for a moment before he really comprehends the question. "Oh. Oh! Of course! We'd never--we'd never send someone away just because they didn't impress," he tells her hastily. "You're welcome to stay--we'll find somewhere for you if you want to. And sometimes, sometimes people stand for more than one clutch before their dragon hatches, so... Um." He rubs the back of his neck, flustered.
Sorren looks at R'dur, compassion taking over her fear. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound all needy and anxious to you. I'd like to stay" she say with as big a smile as her serious face can give. "And of course I would prove my worth." she adds.
R'dur relaxes, offering a small smile and a nod. "It's okay, really. I understand. I... I thought about that, too, when I was a candidate. I mean, I honestly didn't expect to impress--I didn't, and don't, think I'm exactly dragonrider material. I'm certainly not, ah. Well. I'm holdbred," he offers by way of explanation.
R'dur is seated at a table with Sorren, the pair munching on their respective dinners. "So you'd understand, then," he says, sounding somewhat relieved. "I mean, it's so... it's so different, the way things are done here. I don't think I'll ever quite understand it all."
Sorren thinks on this statement. "You know what I think the biggest difference is? People in a weyr seem to be more lively about their work, even in drudgery, it seems. Like there is more purpose, for lack of a better word, here."
R'dur ponders that a moment, frowning thoughtfully. "Hmm. I don't know. I've never thought about it that way," he admits. "Perhaps that is it. Life at a hold--or, rather, at my hold, at least--seemed very... routine. We--or at least I did, anyway--did the same thing day after day. Here, it seems like I always have something different going on. I think part of that is from having so many people from different places here, too."
Sorren nods. "Could be" she agrees, her eyes going off for a second in thought before coming back to focus on R'dur. "So, what is going to happen, when it is time for the hatching? I've heard and seen some things, like robes and intense emotion if one impresses." She looks eager to hear these things.
R'dur's frown deepens. "It's... it's intense," he agrees. "The sands will be very hot, and you'll have to wear a white robe. The dragons will hum when it's time, too, and I'll make sure you're all ready to go out there." He looks greenish at the thought. "Then, the eggs will hatch, and... if you do impress, one of the weyrlingmasters will tell you what to do. If you don't... Well. I don't know. I wasn't out there very long myself--Alidaeth was one of the first to hatch, fortunately. I couldn't have stood it, being out there for much longer."
Sorren blinks in concern, seeing the play of emotions on R'dur's face, not knowing what they mean. "I haven't, ah, disturbed you with these questions, have I?" she asks. "Was it unpleasant being on the hatching grounds, that you couldn't stand it?" She looks a little worried.
R'dur blinks, hastily shaking his head. "Oh, no. No, I don't mind," he reassures Sorren quickly. "It's okay. I don't mind. I, uh. Well, it wasn't... unpleasant, exactly, but it's not something I'd care to do again, I don't think. It was--nerve-wracking."
Sorren quirks her eyebrows, still looking worried. "nerve-wracking? You mean it was that stressful? Like, um, how, if you don't mind me asking. I am just the type of person, I find out everything about something before I do it. No sense in going into something unprepared or with "half-a-skin" as my mother used to say."
"It--it was," admits R'dur slowly. "Because your--your whole life is riding on the choice of a dragon, right in that moment. If I hadn't impressed, I'm not sure what I would have done, though I'd have been happy, I think. But it's just... I can't explain it. You'll just--you'll see."
Sorren titters nervously, but accepts R'dur's /you'll see/ with a nod, before getting the feeling to shift her incessant questioning. "Fair enough. You know, I did see a hatching, at Ista Weyr, I think it was. One of the candidates was bowled over and scratched up by one of the baby dragons. Does that happen often?"
"At Ista?" repeats R'dur. "That's right, they had one not too long ago. I didn't make it down that way. It's... it's not /uncommon/, exactly, but it's certainly less so than it used to be, from what I gather. We do everything we can to prepare candidates for it--if you see a dragon coming, get out of the way, we tell them." Pause. "I'd never seen one before I stood," admits the rider. "And the only people I knew who had were my two younger brothers, who enjoyed telling me awful stories about gore and injuries and that sort of thing." He shakes his head, frowning slightly.
Sorren smiles wryly, as if understanding how brothers can be. "It looked like the lad was too distracted to see the little dragonet coming, but everyone in the stands saw him, a little brown it was. I wanted to call to him to get out of the way, but of course I just sat there gawking like a silly wherry."
"He'd have not been able to hear you, anyway," admits R'dur, ducking his head. "It's really noisy out there. When I stood, my sister came and said she and my nephew, her son, were cheering for me the whole time. I couldn't even see them in the crowd, let alone hear them. It's--it's not good, to not watch. I hope--oh, I hope that doesn't happen here," he continues, biting his lip.
Sorren looks like she would touch R'dur's arm in comfort, but instead makes the same gesture to the table in front of her. "Do not worry, R'dur. I promise you that at least I will make sure I keep my head and stay out of rampaging dragonet's ways." She nods in such a finalized and assured way, it would almost make one laugh the way this young woman looked for a second like a know-it-all old auntie.
R'dur offers a small smile, nodding. "That's good. I don't want anyone getting hurt," he says. Then, blinking, eyes unfocusing, he frowns again. "Er, oh. I'm sorry--I should go. Alidaeth says Bri--Brijana, I mean--my weyrmate--is waiting on us to take her back up to our weyr. Good night, Sorren--don't stay up too late, please?" he says as he stands and cleans up the remains of his dinner before slipping out.
Sorren nods, with a trusting smile of a student to a teacher. "I won't, I promise."