Log: A field trip to the past!
Date: Day 4, Month 10, Turn 22 of Interval 10
Summary: The weyrlings take a Weyrleader-supervised field trip to Greenfields. For some reason K'del trusts /Taikrin/ to provide entertainment. Apparently a seedy dive bar is the best place for weyrlings to hang out!
NorCon MUSH - 5/15/2010
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Szadath's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr(#2085R)
Oak and ash define the walls of this fair ledge, the knotting, ancient trees butting up against the rough-worked stone. They're pinned there, in fact, by ironwork and careful pruning, until now the wood and rock are impossibly intertwined. Once, the wall must have been verdant with leaf and vine, but time has stolen that luxury, the cold and the wind working together until, unattended, the trees have died. Now, like bleached bones, they lean against the grey granite behind him. Their gnarled roots have nibbled away the uneven steps that lead into the weyr proper, though the remainder of the ledge is in good condition, with a nice view of the bowl.
Contents:
Szadath(#1824abep$0)
Obvious exits:
Inner Weyr Sky
Dragon> The weather may be cool and a bit dreary on the autumn afternoon when Cadejoth reaches out towards the weyrling dragons, but his mind is full of brighter skies: autumn at it's best, clear and crisp and perfect. << We're going to Greenfields, >> he reports, casually extending a twanging jangle of mental chains. << Maybe some of you want to come. We would /fly/. >> Such flight, too! Such /excitement/! (Cadejoth to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Liniath projects, << We will come! Silarra and I /love/ to fly! >> There's a bright mental giggle from Liniath accompanying that bouncily excited tone. << Is it nice there? Or is it just the flight that will be amazing? >>
Dragon> There's a swirl of blinding cold then as Szadath rouses, his enthusiasm for the trip obvious in the overly loud, echoey quality of his mindvoice. << A trip! Flying! Score! >> He pauses, retreating a moment, and when he returns he's even /more/ excited, if such a thing were possible. << GREENFIELDS! Yeah, we're so IN! >> (Szadath to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Balyeroth's mind is the oposite of the current weather, of blue skies, and rolling green hills, and just a hint of dust, as he perks up. << Fly? We will fly somewhere? I love to fly as well, and X'en says we can go! >>
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Balyeroth projects, << X'en wants to know where we are to meet up. >>
Dragon> There's a familiar blast of roaring flames that barely precedes Iskiveth's voice blaring to the rest of the weyrlings and Cadejoth. << I want to go! I'll make Teris come. Don't leave without me! >> The last is more of a demand than a worry that they'd dare do something so bold and uncool. (Iskiveth to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> Conversationally, Cadejoth explains, << Keniketh - he's on watch at Greenfields! - says it's /beautiful/ there. So we will watch the weather clear as we fly! >> Of course, Cadejoth's 'conversational' is jangling and overenthusiastic, maybe even as enthusiastic as the charges he's picking up. Maybe. << We haven't left /yet/ Iskiveth. Calm down! I'll meet you all in the air. Above the Star Stones. And K'del says you all have to be good, because otherwise no one will let us take weyrlings out again. >> (Cadejoth to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Balyeroth projects, << We will behave. >>
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Liniath is easily as enthusiastic about all of this as Cadejoth. Overly so, really. << I'll be good! I promise! >> Even is she makes no similar promies for Silarra.
Szadath> You fly towards the upper sky.
Szadath> Upper Sky, High Reaches Weyr
Szadath> Set within the mountain range like a cupped hand with seven bony fingers, High Reaches Weyr rests in the jagged shadow of its spindles. The inner edges of its cliffs are roughened by a liberal scattering of dragon ledges, surrounding a wide bowl with a lake at its eastern end, the clear water reduced to puddle-sized by the altitude.
With the many landmarks on the ground indistinguishable, those higher up stand out, such as the huge aerial entrance to the hatching grounds: located in the western face of the bowl, it's big enough for several dragons to fly through at once. Higher yet, the very rim of the bowl offers several vantage points upon which to land and take in the dramatic views over the High Reaches area; chief among those are the remains of the Star Stones that rise up to the east, standing now without the Eye Rock, leaving the weyr without the traditional means of predicting the next invasion of Thread.
A layer of gray clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.
Szadath> Contents:
Szadath> Liniath
Szadath> Iskiveth
Szadath> Cadejoth
Szadath> Balyeroth
Szadath> Obvious exits:
Weyrs Hatching Ledges Star Stones Southern Rim
Szadath> Szadath doesn't have far to go to reach the indicated spot, given the location of his new ledge. Nevertheless, he comes barreling in at top speed, an equally enthusiastic Taikrin visible astride his neck. << A trip! This is going to be /awesome/. >> Instead of hovering, at first, he's instead making a slow, sweeping circle in the sky above the star stones. Finally, it occurs to him to ask, << What are we going to do there? >>
Szadath> It's probably not visible from up here, but Cadejoth's take-off from his ledge? It's more like he's shoving himself into the air than anything graceful - it's probably even less graceful than half the /weyrlings/. In the air, though, he's got it all worked out, sweeping upwards with wings that know these winds and thermals well. It's hard to see what K'del thinks of all of this, his expression unreadable beneath the scarf that keeps his nose and mouth warm-- still. He must have approved this whole venture, right? << We'll worry about that when we get there, >> reports Cadejoth. << It's a long flight. So we -- well, /you/ -- may have to rest a bit. K'del and I have Official Business. >> But they're all there, and with that, he hurtles off towards southeast. << We go /this/ way! >>
Szadath> Balyeroth doesn't have far to go either, and he's soon in the sky above the starstones as well, coming to hover near his brother brother. << X'en says he's not been there before! This will be an experience. >> He sends. << Yes, yes, what are we going to there? Besides flying? Are there ladies in distress there that we have to rescue? >> This gets a groan from X'en, and a facepalm. << A long flight! Lots to see! >> Balyeroth croons, and tilts his wings to follow the much larger bronze. << Oooo, we get to go on official business! >>
Szadath> From Balyeroth's neckridges, X'en says, "brown brother*"
Szadath> Liniath has almost as far to come from the ground as Cadejath, but that's not slowing her down. << Official business? Can we help? I bet I could look all pretty and official! >> Liniath adds with an overly bright mental giggle. Really, it's as likely to annoy as anything. << I bet there will be sun to lay in! >>
Szadath> Iskiveth is here! She's here! Apparently Teris took a little more convincing than 'I want to gooooo'. The weyrling has a jacket and hat and gloves on, but nothing too overkill for the weather. << What sort of Official Business? >> Iskiveth isn't shy about questions that might be personal as she pushes to follow and attempt to be somewhere in the front of the rest of the weyrlings. << Teris says that yours should remember not to look like a kicked puppy. >> Whatever that means.
Szadath> Szadath dashes off to follow after Cadejoth, jockeying to take up one of the two flanking positions to his rear. << And can we do formations? Like a drill, but WAY better? >> Apparently /this/ is his ultimate excitement: flying in formation with a dragon who's in a /real/ wing. << It can be like we're going to fight something /and/ official business. >> He glances over towards Iskiveth, his enthusiasm for the exercise obvious in the rapid whirling of his gaze. << We can fly in formation together, right? >>
Szadath> << No, no, no: K'del and I are on Official Business. The rest of you are... not. >> Cadejoth has only the faintest hint of apology for that, though he adds in with increased enthusiasm all over again, << I bet there will be lots of sun, though! And your riders can explore. >> Over the rim, mountains, and beyond that, valleys spread out before them: Cadejoth increases his wingbeats, adding, << If you get tired, let me know. We'll stop and take a rest. But I don't see why we can't fly in formation. V-formation, and /go/. >> His answer to Iskiveth takes a few moments more to be shared: << He won't say what kind. And he says to tell yours, Iskiveth, that he's not an idiot. >> So there.
Szadath> Liniath moves to her spot in that formation easily by this point. << Silarra is happy for a chance to spend time somewhere besides the weyr. >> Liniath shares as they soar along. << Even if we don't get to be official. >>
Szadath> Balyeroth falls into his spot in the formation easily by now, as they fly through the sky, wings pausing on ocassion to fly with the wind currents as they go. << X'en is as well, he says he was hoping we would get to go places outside of the weyr. >> He says. X'en mean while is busy checking out the sights far below him, like some kind of tourist, minus the camera, and tacky clothing. He does straighten on ocassion to make sure they still in formation.
Szadath> << Oh, I want to fight something! >> Except Iskiveth knows that she won't be able to so she's almost immediately disappointed. Fortunately, her attention span on these matters is short and soon it's onto, << Szadath and I will be next behind Cadejoth. >> Beyond that, she apparently doesn't care so much who's behind her and who's behind the brown. To the bronze, however, she can say, << She says that of course he would say that. >> But if anyone looks at Teris, /she/ is looking out to the scenery below.
Szadath> Nothing could apparently make Szadath happier than flying in formation with his siblings and a real wingleader. << This is the best trip /ever/. >> Never mind that it's probably the first trip he's ever actually taken. He's far more focused on watching his wingmates fly than the scenery. << We're really good at this. The best, you know. >> Just in case anyone was wondering.
Szadath> Cadejoth seems pleased and proud - a bronze, followed so closely by his offspring, and such /fine/ offspring, too! - and narrates for most of the trip. << This is Nabol! >> he tells them. << And this is Keogh, which sees to Nabol. >> And so on, all the way. They make a couple of short stops, they change formations several times - he even lets them take turns leading them! - before, finally, with a trumpet, he announces, << That's Greenfields, just over there in the distance. Can you see it? We'll be there soon! Greenfields sees to Crom. And K'del says that Nabol's Lady is from Greenfields, and she's young and hot. >> Go figure.
Szadath> Cadejoth adds, a moment later, << But I don't think I was supposed to say that. Don't tell! >>
Szadath> If at any point in the trip Szadath has gotten tired, he'd never admit to it, though he certainly isn't protesting the rests. He's been pretty focused over the course of the trip, growing quiet as he puts all his effort into being the /best/ wingmate he could ever be. But once Greenfields comes into sight, he's suddenly volunteering, << Mine says there are lots of young and hot ladies at Greenfields. She knows where they are. >>
Szadath> Balyeroth has certainly been delighted by this trip, and likely loved it when he got to lead, and times when they switched positions. << What do they see about them? >> He sends to the bronze, and then trumpets. << Greenfields! We made it! It's the loveliest thing ever! >> He says, and soiunds just a bit amused as he speaks up now. << Lots and lots of ladies in distress, I bet! That we can save! >>
Szadath> Liniath enjoys the scenery on the way, with Silarra peering over her neck. Overall though, the pair are quiet through the flight, the green's enthusiastic babble only picking back up as they close in on landing. << Greenfields! Yes! We made it all the way! They are hot? Maybe we need to bring some cool lake water for them to cool off in. >>
Szadath> Iskiveth does protest their rests but not /too/ loudly. And she's not looking at anyone in particular considering she probably actually does need them. Other than this and some asides about their formations, Iskiveth doesn't say a whole lot and it's probably because of her lifemate's influence. Teris is such a spoilsport. But once Greenfields is in sight, the gold can't help herself, screeching, << Oh! I bet I can get there first! >>
Szadath> Cadejoth, who is back to leading the formation as they close in on Greenfields, sweeps lower, chatting away merrily as he does so. << K'del says to say that even if you're no longer on restrictions, you should be careful about who you chase. >> The note of remembered dismay must, of course, be K'del's. Who else? << And maybe no water. Though... >> K'del again. Right? And then: << A race, Iskiveth? Okay! A race. On your marks, get set-- >> He holds out it, waiting a moment, and then: << Go! Meet you in the courtyard! >>
Szadath> A race! A race! Szadath is down for that! He lets out a bugle as he surges forward, muscles bunching powerfully along his chest and back as he seeks to compensate for his smaller stature with raw power. << I'm going to catch you! I'm going to /win/! >> He angles for the courtyard, spurred onwards by Taikrin's excited whoops. << Mine says first one gets a hot girl! >>
Szadath> All this talk of hot girls is still confusing Liniath, it seems. Maybe Silarra is refusing to explain. << And then toss her in water or something to cool her down? Why would you want a hot girl? Are they better than cold ones? >> But the green will take off for the courtyard, even though she's hopelessly outgunned from the start, being the smallest dragon there.
Szadath> Balyeroth gives a trumpet as they near Greenfields. << A race! A race! Let's race! >> He says, and on the word go, he's off like a shot, it's the thrill of the race that matters, even if they don't win! << Yes, hot girls should be tossed on water, so they aren't so hot! >>
Szadath> Iskiveth lets out a high-pitched bugle of excitement at the GO! and takes off to attempt to keep some lead on her brown clutchmate as they barrel toward the courtyeard. Hopefully no one down there will get upset by the imagery. << I'll win! But mine doesn't want hot anything. But maybe a hot girl will have treasure to give me! >> Eventually the gold is making to land, points seeming a little sharper for the excited way she holds herself.
Szadath> Isn't it interesting, the way the courtyard suddenly empties itself of everyone, just like that? There are even a few people with their upper bodies aimed out of windows just /staring/ at the group of invading dragons. Well. They /do/ look a bit scary. Probably, K'del is facepalming. Or maybe he's just wiping at his face? Who knows. << K'del likes them hot. And we-- K'del says I shouldn't say that. Don't land on anyone! >>
Szadath> Despite his best efforts, Szadath can't quite overtake Iskiveth, but he's only a few wingbeats behind her when he backwings to a landing in the courtyard, attempting to keep to one side to make room for the entire incoming army of weyrling dragons. << Man Iskiveth, did you practice racing? >> His chest is heaving with effort as he attempts to catch his breath. << I'll get you next time! >> Taikrin, who's been pretty mellow for the entire trip, unbuckles herself but remains atop Szadath for the moment. << Mine asks, what we are to do if we are not on official business? >>
Szadath> Well, nobody can deny that they don't know how to make an entrance! Too bad most of the poor people at the hold won't see it. Balyeroth trumpets. << How are we supposed to land on any of them if they all disappeared? >> He He says, and comes in third, as he back wings to a landing in the courtyard. << Good race! >>
Szadath> Pterath huffs, just a little offended at the rapid disappearance of all the people. << They probably thought we /were/ going to land on them, >> she says, annoyed by that. << I know how to land without hitting anyone. >> Just as she says this, she thumps neatly down to the ground, and folds her wings and moves over politely to make more room for the next dragon to land.
Szadath> Liniath doesn't seem to mind very much not being first. Instead she'll turn her effort towards making the /perfect/ landing, setting down gently in the courtyard. << I know better than to squish someone like they were a patch of mud. >> Liniath states, apparently distracted for the moment from the topic of cooling down hot girls.
Szadath> The gold puffs up proudly, as much as she can with the deep breaths she takes, for the win and Szadath's words. << Of course! Golds are supposed to be really good at racing. Teris said to never let anyone catch me! >> Iskiveth does not quite get the actual meaning of this yet, evidently. << I wouldn't land on any of them, >> she adds, peering around. That probably won't help much. She's not exactly friendly looking. Teris, however, is so happy to be able to unbuckle herself and, at this point, land on somewhat shaking legs.
Szadath> << They're just not used to dragons en masse, I think. And /racing/. >> What a life it must be! Without /dragons/ and /racing/ and /fun/. Cadejoth rattles his chains mournfully the idea, as he settles down onto the courtyard-- the very last, but in no way concerned by it. Rather than answering Szadath's question himself, he's silent, letting his rider, who unbuckles, pulls off helmet and scarf, and /then/ dismounts, do it for him. He has to stretch, and shake out his legs one by one, admitting, "Not used to spending that much time in the air anymore. Between's faster. So... I gotta do some talking with the Holder, so... want to look around? Find something you can do to keep out of trouble?"
It's only once all the dragons have landed that Taikrin slides down off Szadath's shoulder, though she remains near the brown. "Used t'live at Greenfields y'know, for a while," she offers oh-so-casually at K'del's question as she pulls her helmet off and fluffs her short-cropped hair. "Know a place maybe we could hang out an' wait." She pauses to consider, then adds, "Safe, an' all, promise. Fun, too."
Szadath> Balyeroth croons as he moves to crouch down in the courtyard. X'en mneawhile is climbind down his blues side, though after such a long ride, he puts a hand on his blues foreleg to steady himself. "Shards, my legs aint never been this sore." He says, and manages to look at K'del, giving the Weyrleader a nod. "Right, look around, sounds good ta me." He says,
Szadath> G'brion slides down to the ground, reaching up with one hand to slap Pterath's neck in a gesture of rough affection. One eyebrow goes up when he catches sight of Teris and her shaking legs, and he takes a few steps in her direction. "Are you okay?" he asks, frowning slightly with concern. He casts a glance and a nod K'del's way, and then looks back at Teris.
Szadath> Liniath tilts her head to look around. << I bet we can find a great sunny spot near here! >> She adds enthusiastically as Silarra slips down her side rubbing at her thighs. "Feels like I just took a long ride on a runner." She decides before she gives K'del a smirk. "So feel free to wander but don't piss off the locals?"
Szadath> "I'm fine," Teris says quickly and firmly to that question, pausing to compose herself into her usual state of being. "Not used to rides that long." This last is a little more absent as the gold weyrling casts her gaze out around them, attempting to decide where might be at all interesting to try exploring. Iskiveth stretches out her wings before settling them along her sinewy body, then stretches each foreleg in turn as she sits back on her haunches.
Szadath> "Suspect you might all be a bit tired by tonight. Sore, too," puts in K'del, with a glance from one weyrling to another, all the way around the group. "Hot baths all round, okay? Muscles have to get used to it. Exactly like riding a runner." It doesn't seem to have taken him too long to recover, because he's now busy smoothing down his shirt, checking the buttons, adjusting his collar. If he has any doubt of Taikrin's offer, he keeps it from showing, making a grand gesture of saying, "Sounds good, Taikrin. You'll keep an eye on the younger ones, right? And I'll come find you when I'm done. You're all representatives of High Reaches, remember. Good impressions." That's an answer to Silarra, too, made with a bob of the head in her direction. "Can always call Cadejoth, if you run into a problem."
Szadath> From Pterath's neckridges, "Oh, okay," Gabe says to Teris with a shrug as he takes a small step back. He looks around at the others, and his gaze settles on Taikrin with interest. "You used to live here, really? Is this where your family is at?" he asks. "We could go visit them!"
Szadath> "Yeah, yeah, reckon we could all use some relaxin', huh?" Taikrin claps her hands against her thighs, emboldened by K'del's faith. "Know /just/ the place." A final slap for Szadath's shoulder, and then she's moving to gather up those younger weyrlings in particular. "A'course I'll watch out for 'em." She nears Gabe, reaching out to tap his shoulder with her first. "Nah, not my family. After I left. Don't know who's still around, but I know where we used t'hang out. Some real good places. S'just outside the wall, place I'm thinkin'. Real short walk."
Szadath> Silarra gives Taikrin an actual grin. "Well then, I'll follow your lead." And she really will heading over towards them as Liniath finds a place to sun. "A place to relax sounds good. It was a good flight though." The long flight seems to have left this weyrling in a rather good mood, at least.
Szadath> Balyeroth finds a spot to relax as well with the rest of the dragons. X'en heads for where the rest of the weyrlings are. "A place ta relax would be great after all that flying." He says in agreement. "Wow, it didn't seem like we were up there that long, there was so much ta see on the way here."
Szadath> "I don't need anyone watching out for /me/," Teris is quick to point out just in case anyone was thinking otherwise. But she's evidently going with them to wherever Taikrin is leading them off to, legs working better now that she's on her feet again. "You be good," the blonde says firmly to her lifemate, who is by all appearances, except for a quick snort, ignoring her.
Szadath> From Pterath's neckridges, "Wouldn't mind a little relaxing!" G'brion says brightly to Taikrin, with a big smile for the fist-tap. He gives Teris a funny look, but doesn't comment about whether she needs watching out for. All he says is, "It was a good long flight. Fun. We should do this more often, you know? I'm going to take a long flight somewhere next day off, I think. Whoever wants to can come, we can bring a picnic or something, wouldn't that be fun?"
Szadath> K'del fastens a long glance on the group of weyrlings, but seems satisfied enough. For now. "Okay," he agrees. "Guess you're all set to go off, then. Be--" But he's already told them to be good, so he just shakes his head, breaks it off, and heads off towards the Main Hall, where, it seems likely, the Greenfields Holder is waiting for him. Weyrlings at large. For the first time since they Impressed. Oh dear.
You head off somewhere.
Dive Bar, Greenfields Hold(#1636R)
Despite the dirt, the dim lighting, and the obviously battle-scarred furniture, there is nothing overtly dangerous about the dive bar tucked against the corner of Greenfields proper. The main barroom is low-slung and windowless, and lit with flickering glows that seem to be perpetually in danger of guttering out entirely. A long, darkly stained and pitted bar stretches across one end of the room, complete with rickety stools that often play host to a set of rough-looking (and drunk) characters.
The rest of the room boasts a scattering of equally scarred round tables and oft-repaired chairs, filled with the same mix of gnarled laborers and somewhat disreputable young people in search of a quick thrill. Behind the bar is a shut door, which apparently leads to a set of storerooms and offices for the bar management types. There's a reek of spilled beer in the air, mixed with the sightly sour scent of sweat and the salty, greasy smell of the snacks brought in to appease the patrons.
Available Commands: +tp/help
Obvious exits:
Out
Taikrin is unusually chatty on the entire walk through the hold, mentioning this hangout or that adventure out into the fields -- nothing outright illegal, but none of them precisely on the up-and-up, either. And as she opens the beat-up door to the bar, she moves to usher the others in as if to the finest establishment in the hold. "-- an' we used t'hang out here after, uh, workin', an' they got some /really/ good beer if y'know t'ask for it. Always used t'take good care of us, too, if we was maybe a little short of marks, y'know?"
There are only a few occupants to the bar this early in the day, along with the bartender. At first nobody pays much mind to the arriving crew, but some second glances begin prompting mutters: newcomers, and /riders/, from the looks of them. Nothing overtly hostile, but there's definitely some surprise and guarded suspicion.
G'brion trots along after, listening avidly to the monologue. As they troop into the bar, he laughs at the last part. "What do they give you if you don't know to ask for the good beer?" he asks Taikrin, a little too loudly. Oops.
Silarra peers around at all the different places Taikrin mentions with a smirking smile still on her face. As they step inside she glances around with raised eyebrows. "Seems so nice and cozy." Silarra states with a sarcastic tone, flashing a smile towards one of the people eyeing them. "Good beer? Hope they still have it."
Teris follows along at some point behind the rest of them. Some part of her probably doesn't want to get left entirely alone and have to spend the day in some hold she's not familiar with at all. That doesn't mean she's going to get all buddy buddy and friendly. Though she's not being outright abrasive, either. "Do they have wine?" she finally speaks up.
X'en looks around the hold with interest as they walk. He looks around the bar, however, as he steps inside. "Good beer? I'd be interested in that if they got any." He says, giving a bit of a smile towards those eyeing them. "Nice place, aye. Glad ya knew of this place Taikrin."
"Yeeeeah, well, best we don't find out, huh Gabe? We'll just make sure we get th'good stuff." Taikrin is happy to lead the way to the bar with more than a little swagger in her step, pulling herself up onto a stool and giving the worker next to her a bright smirk. "I, uh-- dunno if they got wine. I never asked, y'know? But th'beer's real good, if I remember right. Sure they got that." That overbright smile is directed to her fellow weyrlings, her eagerness to make a good impression obvious. "I know, right? Ain't this place great? Faranth, I spent /hours/ here hangin' out with th'crew, y'know?"
This early in the day, no one gets into the bar without the Bartender noticing. He even stops in his haphazard polishing of a (dirty) glass to look the group of weyrlings up and down several times over. He doesn't actually do anything more than that, though, not until Taikrin leads the group over; then, setting the glass down, he heads towards them with raised eyebrows. "C'n I help you?" Maybe his gaze rests longer on Taikrin than everyone else. Well. She /does/ look like the leader, doesn't she?
G'brion hops up onto a stool next to Taikrin. "Are any of your friends here now?" he asks, looking around and waving gaily at that one guy over there that's staring at them. "I like beer," he adds, almost as firmly as Teris insisted earlier that she didn't need any looking after. He looks at Taikrin, though; he'll leave the ordering part to her.
Silarra makes her way over to take a seat on Taikrin's other side, tucking her feet around the pole of the stool. "I'm still trusting you on knowing what's good to drink." After all, Taikrin didn't lead her astray in the Snowasis, right? She turns for a moment to look around the place before the bartender gets a quick smirk of a smile. She'll let Taikrin answer but does look over to Gabe. "Remember, we're not supposed to piss people off."
Somewhat out of her element, Teris is happy enough to allow the brownrider to take the lead here. She seems happy enough to even act like she's one of the rest of the weyrlings and not some complete other person entirely. All this talk about beer, though, makes Teris roll her eyes and approach the bar to sit a couple of seats down from anyone, saying to the bartender, "Do you have wine? Red, preferably. And not completely awful."
X'en goes to take a seat as well at the bar, giving a nod. Taikrin knew this place best, it was best to let her talk. "I'm fine with the beer, long as it's the good stuff." He says toward the group, before he looks up at Teris' question, the woman must not like beer. "Beers good fer drinkin', though some of it's better than others."
Taikrin's gaze is still lingering on the other weyrlings - Teris in particular - so she responds over her shoulder with, "Yeah, we need a coupl'a beers -- th'special brew, if y'got it -- an'--" It takes her brain a minute to catch up with her eyes, but once it does her gaze goes wide and a little star-struck. "--an bloody shells, Grathon, s'that you?! Th'shell you still doin' workin' here?" She pauses a moment to catch her breath, then gushes, "S'me, Taikrin! Been a few turns, y'know? Used t'work on Zuman's crew, a'fore I ran into a bad patch, y'know? Anyways, out now, an' I told Zuman maybe I'd be comin' down now, an' I brought some of th'other weyrlings, y'know, 'cause this's th'best place t'hang this side of Crom!" Beam, beam, beam. She's just so smug and /happy/.
It's as though Grathon has been waiting for a cue, because as soon as Taikrin reminds him who she is, his nod is unreservedly one of welcome. "Aye, Taikrin, how c'd I forget? Reckon he even passed word we might see you... mentioned you'd hit it big." /Weyrlings/, after all. Again, his gaze slides down the group of weyrlings, all the way to Taikrin a few seats down, and, okay, maybe his eyes /do/ light just the slightest bit. "Four beers, and a-- well. Ain't really got much call to serve wine, but mayhap there's something out the back, Weyrwoman. 'pologies if it's not up to standard, but we rarely get such illustrious company."
G'brion casts a wounded look at Silarra. "What did I do?" he asks her under his breath. "'I like beer' is going to piss someone off?" He flashes a grin at Grathon, briefly: see? he's not pissing people off, he's being friendly! and then makes a face at his cousin.
"Sometimes there's such a thing as /too/ friendly." Silarra mutters across Taikrin to her cousin. Isn't the brownrider lucky to be right between them? And then she'll give Taikrin a smile. "Seems to be your day for seeing old friends then."
X'en blinks, and chuckles. "Nice ta see one person ya know is still here, Taikrin." He remarks, and nods to the bartender as he surmises their orders, but he does wince about the wine. "Dunno Teris, if it's been sittin' out back, if might not be that great."
Teris gives a long suffering sort of sigh then waves her hand dismissively, glancing to X'en, then back to the bartender. "That's not necessary. I'll have... is your water safe to-- do you even /have/ water?" She's not going to assume a whole lot about this place, apparently. "How about a," she holds her thumb and forefinger not far apart from each other, "small bit of whiskey? I don't mind that." In small doses. /Now/ that that's done, her attention can focus on the fact that Taikrin is acquainted with the man.
It doesn't really seem to bother Taikrin to be in the midst of the bickering: in fact, the moves to sling an around around Silarra as she makes introductions. "An' these two kids're Silarra an' Gabe-- uh, G'brion. Ride green. An this here's X'en, he's on blue, an' I guess y'heard of Teris." More modestly (which is to say, she's not /quite/ as outrageously smug) she adds, "Reckon I did okay, y'know? Szadath's more'n I ever hoped t'have, when we was gettin' wasted in here after a long day, y'know?" Teris' order gets a guffaw of surprise, but the look she gives the other weyrling is wholeheartedly approving.
"You've never had that problem before, Silarra! I wouldn't worry," Gabe says to his cousin, much too sweetly. Then he turns back to the bartender with a much more genuine smile. "Hi, nice to meet you," he says happily as he's introduced.
"Whiskey it is, then," says Grathon, with a certain measure of overstated respect, his head lowering carefully in Teris' direction. His hands busy themselves after that, pouring several decent looking beers in dirty pint glasses, then making a show of cleaning a shot glass properly - with a clean handkerchief, even! - to serve Teris' whiskey in. "Good t'meet you all," he says, genially. "Friends of Taikrin, here, well-- friends of mine, too." His glance at the brownrider is approving, even, as he slides the drinks across the bar towards them all. "Visitin' alone, then? Long way to fly, would've thought."
Silarra actually doesn't even stiffen up at the arm around her shoulders, this time, relaxing a bit into it instead. "Haha, Gabe." She wrinkles her nose over at her cousin before she reaches out for a glass, not seeming to care about it's cleanliness. Teris's harder drink gets a quick look before she takes a sip of hers. "Good beer." She states, as if she knows anything about it. "And nice to meet you, Grathon."
If someone were going to ask Teris, she would probably tell them that there's no such thing as overstated respect. She's probably liking it. And she's ignoring any reactions about her choice of drink in the absence of decent wine. "Thank you," she says to the man as he cleans her glass, then adds, "We're not alone. The Weyrleader is on official business here." Said Weyrleader might even be surprised that she doesn't make him sound like an idiot by tone of voice.
Taikrin releases Silarra to deftly grab her beer off the counter as it's slid down, knocking back a good quarter of the tankard before sighing in approval. "Yeah, this's th'good stuff." It's only after she's begun sastisfying that thirst that she offers after Teris, oh so casually, "Weyrleader brought us out, special, for trainin', y'know? We're doin' exercises now, drills. Gettin' th'dragons stronger!" She drains another couple of fingers out of her beer with more than a little enthusiasm. "Bloody shells, I missed this! /Way/ better'n th'watered down stuff at th'Snowasis, ain't it Silarra? Any of th'old crew kickin' around still, you know? Lost track of 'em after that gather. Been meanin' t'track down Zuman an' thank him for his, uh, present. Real thoughtful of 'im."
Resting meaty arms on the bartop, Grathon remarks, "The /Weyrleader/ at that. Movin' up in the world, Taikrin. Consorting with them folks. What's he like, the kid Weyrleader? Must trust you, let you back to your old stomping grounds like this. New woman, all that?" The reaction to his beer gets a certain smugness; he nods along easily. "Aye, can't beat our beer. Best in the game, if I do say so myself. Zuman's not about, but Lanvec - you remember Lanvec? Lost his ear that time, broke his arm - he's working for me these days. Down in the storeroom, reorganising like, if you wanted to say hi. For old time's sake."
"It's not bad," Gabe says easily after taking a long drink of beer. He's not quite as enthusiastic as Taikrin, though, about, well, any of it, until Grathon asks about the weyrleader. "K'del is awesome," he says firmly, even if the question wasn't meant for him. "He's not one of those people who's just like 'That's the rule, so there,' you know? He pays attention to the actual situation."
Silarra takes another sip of her beer before she answers. "Definitely at least as good. Don't know that I've tasted either enough to get more of an opinion than that." She nods her head. "K'del's young but it's not like he's clueless or anything. Knows what he's doing by now." From what she's seen or heard. "Lost an ear? Ouch."
X'en catches his mug, and takes a drink from it, giving an refreshed aaah after he brings it back down. "Aye, this is definitely better than that junk at the Snowasis! Any chance we could take any of it home with us, Grathon?" He asks the man, and sets to listening for a moment. "Aye, K'del's pretty nice, if he wasn't, I dun think he woulda brought us, or let an excon lead peeople around." He winces though. "Ouch, loosin's an ear, that had ta be rough."
For her part, Teris isn't going to say a whole lot about the Weyrleader other than what she has since it might not be quite so flattering at this point. Instead she considers her drink with a small sip, studying this Grathon and his exchanges with Taikrin in silence. Or perhaps in conversation with her lifemate, who is no doubt entirely interested in things she shouldn't be.
"HAH, yeah, 'course I remember 'im! Near got my guts dumped on th'floor that night! Still got th'scar... that was a good time." Taikrin is being entirely serious-- she's even somewhat wistful for those, uh, good old days. There's a dirty look in there somewhere for X'en and his dirty word, though she doesn't call him on it verbally. Instead, the rest of her tankard is drained in a flash, and then she's leaning over to nudge G'brion's shoulder with hers. "He /is/ pretty okay. Seems real, uh, open, y'know?" She's got a certain look that's being directed at the bartender, one eyebrow raising speculatively. "Yeah, guess maybe I might go pop my head down there in a bit, say hey an' whatnot."
Dragon> To Balyeroth, Szadath is nearly half asleep in the courtyard sun, which renders his voice low and droning and only half-there. << Mine says you must tell yours that what he said is a dirty word and not to say it again. >>
Grathon /does/ seem to be paying a lot of attention to what the group think of K'del, and a certain, considering glance lingers on Teris when she doesn't provide anything more. But this is a barkeep, a man of words, and he doesn't let his silence reign for long: "Good to hear it. Good Weyrleader makes all the difference, even out here. 'tany rate, Couldn't possibly let any of my brew take lakes, 'm'afraid. Else, who'd come and visit me? You'll just have to visit again." His more serious nod accompanies a, "Not much good, man with no ear. Distinctive, you know?" Taikrin's speculative glance gets no particular response, just an easy, "Sure he'd like to see you. Promise, won't let no harm go to your friends."
G'brion doesn't get it. "Why wouldn't he be any good just because he's missing an ear?" he asks. "He can still hear, right?" He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after another pull from his beer.
Silarra rolls her eyes over to Gabe. "Because he was doing something where he didn't want to be recognized." She points out, with a tone like she's talking to a small child. And then Taikrin gets a smile. "Bet we can keep out of any serious trouble for long enough for you to go say hi." Famous last words.
Taikrin peers mournfully at her empty glass a moment, then pops off her stool with only a little bit of a stagger. "Well, reckon I shouldn't keep 'im waiting. Man only has one ear, y'know. Makes 'im impatient." It makes sense, in Taikrin's world. She pauses, though, swivelling on her heel to eye the other weyrlings with a hint of anxiety. "Gonna go see 'im an' hit th'head. None of you guys're gonna wander off, okay? Silarra, Xeo, no startin' bar fights 'till I get back, yeah?" She wavers uncertainly for a moment more, but then moves off to duck under the bar and towards the door at the back, calling, "Save room t'do a round with me when I get back! Whiskeys all around!" And then she's gone, disappeared behind that heavy door.
Visiting again might not be an entirely likely prospect for Teris but she offers the man her usual poker smile all the same and takes another drink. It might be a little more clear that she doesn't like the idea of Taikrin of all people just wandering off to do Faranth knows what by herself. She watches the other weyrling disappearing and continues watching that point for several moments before returning her attention to Grathon. "Hard to keep a low profile when it's so easy to remember things about you," she says in regards to this one-eared man, all casual.
Grathon keeps half an eye on Taikrin as she excuses herself, but as soon as she's disappeared behind that door, he turns his full attention back to the group. "Aye," he agrees, with a particular bob of the head towards Teris. "'tis a sad thing, but not everyone is an upstanding citizen like you or I. Poor Lanvec, he never had much of a chance in life, though if I do say so myself, was his lucky day to lose that ear. Gone clean now, a'course. Makin' a new life for hisself. May serve the lot of them, but a man knows right from wrong, and-- well. Makes a man feel good, seeing 'em turn clean."
"Oh," Gabe says, and falls silent in favor of drinking his beer. He frowns slightly, and casts a glance in the direction Taikrin disappeared off to, looking dubious about something.
X'en grunts as he gets the mental message passed on, and he rolls his eyes. "Damn, will have ta make sure I come again then." He says, and takes another long drink from his mug. "Sounds like an interestin' man, then." He says, and watches Taikrin leave, before looking around again.
Silarra watches Taikrin go before she takes another drink of her beer. "Always interesting and fascinating how life works its way around." Silarra states dryly. "Good thing for him that he could find a position here with you then, I suppose." Though she doesn't sound as enthusiastic about it as she was her drink.
G'brion sets his mostly empty glass down on the bar, and hops off his stool. "I gotta go take a leak," he says to Silarra and the others. "Be back in a bit." And he wanders off in what he assumes is the appropriate direction.
Teris makes some acknowledging sound for what the bartender says but she doesn't seem all that interested in continuing along that line of thought with either him or any of the other weyrlings. That's probably not very surprising to them, at least. Instead she finishes off the rest of her drink and considers the empty glass like she's not really sure what she wants to do with it now.
"Such doleful glances! She'll be back soon, our Taikrin. Can't begrudge her a visit with an old friend, surely?" Grathon is all lightness, and if he's hiding something about the reason for the visit, well, it doesn't show in his manner: no, he seems pretty genuinely honest. Or he's a good actor, one or the other. "But, now, speaking of Taikrin... how's she doin', really? Doin' us proud? Wanting nothin' else in her life?" And then, "More drinks? Another whiskey, weyrwoman? More beers, everyone else?"
"She and Szadath are doing really well." And apparently that's as far as Silarra's going to describe it for now. She looks down to the glass she's been sipping from and shakes her head. "No, thanks. One is good for now. Got to fly all the way home later." And with her size, she could well be quite the light weight.
"She's doing well, yes. Working her way into the leadership program that we have for the weyrlings." Teris is good at making herself sound important. She's had a lot of practice with that. "I've been helping her. We've gotten really close." Okay, that's a lie but you couldn't tell by the way she says it. "I'm not sure I should have anymore," she admits about the whiskey but she sets the glass back down carefully on the bar top as though she hasn't entirely made up her mind.
"Eh, gimme another, Grathon." IUt wasn't the first time X'en's drank before, and likely not to the last. "Aye, Taikrin's doin' great, we just moved outta the barracks the other night, so we don't see each other as often, cept fer lessons, and junk." And spur of the moment flying trips like this one.
"/Leadership/!" And doesn't Grathon look proud? "Good for her. Nice to hear she's got good friends like that." And /important/ ones, which seems to be a point worth labouring, even if it's only in the way the barkeep looks at Teris. It's all in the knot, apparently. "And you've all moved out on your own-- got to feel good. Dragons flying, all the rest, must be getting close to complete freedom, mm?" He slides another beer across to X'en, and puts Silarra's glass out of reach, though Teris' stays where it is. Just in case, of course.
"Got a while yet until we have complete freedom, but getting our own places to rest our head? That was a big step in the right direction." Silarra states, fidgeting a bit on her stool, with a look at Grathon for the way the barkeep is looking at Teris. Silarra doesn't seem impressed with that.
It's not much longer before Taikrin comes barreling back out of the door, laughing in a way that might or might not be nervous, and with her hands full of... rug. Literally. She's clutching a rolled up, darkly dyed rag-styled wool /rug/ to her chest, even as she's calling out, "-- an' I'll write t'you later, Lanvec!" Her grin, though broad, isn't entirely easy as she bellies back up to the bar stool while akwardly managing her bundle. "Look, he gave me a weyrwarming present!" Her gaze meets Grathon's for a momeent, then shies away, drifting from one weyrling to another with a big, bright smile. "What're you guys goin' on about? What'd I miss? Hopefully no stabbings while I was gone? Grathon ain't tellin' y'all any stories, is he?"
Another simple, acknowledging sound is offered for Grathon's continued attempts at conversation. Teris just isn't the sort that's all that interested in it. Fortunately Taikrin returning makes it so that Teris doesn't /have/ to keep saying anything. She offers a smile that looks genuine to the brownrider, "What's that you have there?" Curious. "Good reunion? I left my knife at home, unfortunately." No stabbings today. Though it probably wasn't her anyone was asking.
Grathon lifts both hands as if to imply pure innocence, but his smile for Taikrin is undeniably warm. "Kept 'em safe as holds, promise. Haven't even filled 'em with any more alcohol, 'cept this one." X'en, who gets indicated with one hand. "Looks like a nice piece, that one. Must be paying him too much! You'll have another? Whiskey?"
X'en snorts. "She's doin' a good job at it too, hope she gets in." He says, and nods. "Aye, never had my own place before, so it'ss great." He takes a drink of the beer, though this time slower. "Pretty close, aye, though they lowered most of the restrictions." He smirks. "Includin' the ones restrictin' drinkin'." Taikrin's reemergence makes him turn, and he raises an eyebrow at the rolled up rug. "A rug? Looks like a nice one."
"Great ones! About this one time with you and this hooker." Silarra deadpans before she sighs. "Told K'del I'd be good. Suppose that means I should try to stay away from the stabbings. Even if that's no fun." The weyrwarming gifts catches her gaze. "A rug? That should be good for beside your bed or something.
It's at this point that Cadejoth - having spent much of the time up until now conversing with the watchdragon and enjoying the sun - perks up, extending a tendril of thought towards the weyrling dragons. << K'del's done! Should he come find you, or will you join him in the courtyard again? >>
Taikrin shifts the rug again, dropping it down to rest carefully against the side of the bar. "I know, right? Gave me a rug, since he reckoned new weyrs might be pretty cold what with winter comin' and all. It /is/ a nice one, too." Her smile is still terribly bright as it flicks from one weyrling to another, carefully avoiding Grathon all the while. "Hey, /I/ didn't know she was a hooker! She seemed into it! You guys thought it was /real/ funny." Uh. It's possible the somewhat put-out look isn't what Silarra was going for. "No fair tellin' 'em stories when I ain't here t'defend myself!" There's a moment hesitation, then she nods. "Take one more whiskey, though, I will. A'fore th'Weyrleader catches us. Brace me for th'ride home!"
Szadath is almost completely asleep at this point, his thoughts reflecting the laziness inherent in one who's been laying in the sun for a while. << Uhhh... what? >> He gives a start then, thoughts cracking like glaciers as he gets into gear. << He can come down if he wants. I think mine is almost finished though? >>
Teris is being pretty much silent now, swiveling in her seat and looking as though she's ready to get down without actually doing so yet. She glances toward the door. Iskiveth is out there somewhere but she hasn't been sleeping. She's been too interested in what's not nailed down to sleep.
Grathon laughs, pouring another round for those who want them; "Come back some time," he tells Silarra, "And I'll fill your ears with more stories than you can imagine about our Taikrin. But: drink up, then I'll let you lot go, then. Can't have my conversation keep your Weyrleader waiting! You'll be back, though." It seems to include all of them.
Balyeroth is content, and almost asleep himself, but the older bronzes mind touching his own, perks him up again. << Mine can come here if it's needed. >> He says. X'en in the bar glances at the door, and then back to Grathon, taking a long drink. "Ah, seems like we aint been here that long, but we best not keep him waitin', or he might not let us come back."
Silarra gives Taikrin a smirk. "Sure it was all a big mixup." And then Grathon gets his own smirk of a smile. "I will then. And you can tell me all the ones that I can use for blackmail." She notes before shaking her head. "Yeah. We'd better go join up with K'del. And see if my dearest cousin got lost trying to find where to take a piss."
"Haha, /very/ funny." Taikrin makes a face at Silarra, but doesn't offer any physical retribution. Yet. Instead, she occupies herself with shooting the whiskey that's been poured for her, despite the fact that it's /whiskey/. She gives herself a shake, then hops back off the stool and wrangles the rug again with that terribly cheerful smile. "Thanks f'r, uh, everything, Grathon. Reckon we'll be back again pretty soon, eh?" A pause as she looks around at the other weyrlings, then she offers, "I'll cover-- how much we owe you f'r th'rounds?"
Grathon waves a hand, easy as that - "No charge, this time. A congratulations. May the weyr think well of our little establishment." Beat. "/Next/ time, though..." And with that, he waves them off, back to the waiting dragons, and K'del, who seems largely uninterested in what they did to fill their time, except for reassuring himself that everyone is there, in one piece, and not going to throw up on the way home. Phew.
Summary: The weyrlings take a Weyrleader-supervised field trip to Greenfields. For some reason K'del trusts /Taikrin/ to provide entertainment. Apparently a seedy dive bar is the best place for weyrlings to hang out!
NorCon MUSH - 5/15/2010
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Szadath's Ledge, High Reaches Weyr(#2085R)
Oak and ash define the walls of this fair ledge, the knotting, ancient trees butting up against the rough-worked stone. They're pinned there, in fact, by ironwork and careful pruning, until now the wood and rock are impossibly intertwined. Once, the wall must have been verdant with leaf and vine, but time has stolen that luxury, the cold and the wind working together until, unattended, the trees have died. Now, like bleached bones, they lean against the grey granite behind him. Their gnarled roots have nibbled away the uneven steps that lead into the weyr proper, though the remainder of the ledge is in good condition, with a nice view of the bowl.
Contents:
Szadath(#1824abep$0)
Obvious exits:
Inner Weyr Sky
Dragon> The weather may be cool and a bit dreary on the autumn afternoon when Cadejoth reaches out towards the weyrling dragons, but his mind is full of brighter skies: autumn at it's best, clear and crisp and perfect. << We're going to Greenfields, >> he reports, casually extending a twanging jangle of mental chains. << Maybe some of you want to come. We would /fly/. >> Such flight, too! Such /excitement/! (Cadejoth to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Liniath projects, << We will come! Silarra and I /love/ to fly! >> There's a bright mental giggle from Liniath accompanying that bouncily excited tone. << Is it nice there? Or is it just the flight that will be amazing? >>
Dragon> There's a swirl of blinding cold then as Szadath rouses, his enthusiasm for the trip obvious in the overly loud, echoey quality of his mindvoice. << A trip! Flying! Score! >> He pauses, retreating a moment, and when he returns he's even /more/ excited, if such a thing were possible. << GREENFIELDS! Yeah, we're so IN! >> (Szadath to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Balyeroth's mind is the oposite of the current weather, of blue skies, and rolling green hills, and just a hint of dust, as he perks up. << Fly? We will fly somewhere? I love to fly as well, and X'en says we can go! >>
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Balyeroth projects, << X'en wants to know where we are to meet up. >>
Dragon> There's a familiar blast of roaring flames that barely precedes Iskiveth's voice blaring to the rest of the weyrlings and Cadejoth. << I want to go! I'll make Teris come. Don't leave without me! >> The last is more of a demand than a worry that they'd dare do something so bold and uncool. (Iskiveth to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> Conversationally, Cadejoth explains, << Keniketh - he's on watch at Greenfields! - says it's /beautiful/ there. So we will watch the weather clear as we fly! >> Of course, Cadejoth's 'conversational' is jangling and overenthusiastic, maybe even as enthusiastic as the charges he's picking up. Maybe. << We haven't left /yet/ Iskiveth. Calm down! I'll meet you all in the air. Above the Star Stones. And K'del says you all have to be good, because otherwise no one will let us take weyrlings out again. >> (Cadejoth to all Flurry dragons)
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Balyeroth projects, << We will behave. >>
Dragon> To all Flurry dragons, Liniath is easily as enthusiastic about all of this as Cadejoth. Overly so, really. << I'll be good! I promise! >> Even is she makes no similar promies for Silarra.
Szadath> You fly towards the upper sky.
Szadath> Upper Sky, High Reaches Weyr
Szadath> Set within the mountain range like a cupped hand with seven bony fingers, High Reaches Weyr rests in the jagged shadow of its spindles. The inner edges of its cliffs are roughened by a liberal scattering of dragon ledges, surrounding a wide bowl with a lake at its eastern end, the clear water reduced to puddle-sized by the altitude.
With the many landmarks on the ground indistinguishable, those higher up stand out, such as the huge aerial entrance to the hatching grounds: located in the western face of the bowl, it's big enough for several dragons to fly through at once. Higher yet, the very rim of the bowl offers several vantage points upon which to land and take in the dramatic views over the High Reaches area; chief among those are the remains of the Star Stones that rise up to the east, standing now without the Eye Rock, leaving the weyr without the traditional means of predicting the next invasion of Thread.
A layer of gray clouds covers the sky. The air feels cool and damp, but there is no rainfall today.
Szadath> Contents:
Szadath> Liniath
Szadath> Iskiveth
Szadath> Cadejoth
Szadath> Balyeroth
Szadath> Obvious exits:
Weyrs Hatching Ledges Star Stones Southern Rim
Szadath> Szadath doesn't have far to go to reach the indicated spot, given the location of his new ledge. Nevertheless, he comes barreling in at top speed, an equally enthusiastic Taikrin visible astride his neck. << A trip! This is going to be /awesome/. >> Instead of hovering, at first, he's instead making a slow, sweeping circle in the sky above the star stones. Finally, it occurs to him to ask, << What are we going to do there? >>
Szadath> It's probably not visible from up here, but Cadejoth's take-off from his ledge? It's more like he's shoving himself into the air than anything graceful - it's probably even less graceful than half the /weyrlings/. In the air, though, he's got it all worked out, sweeping upwards with wings that know these winds and thermals well. It's hard to see what K'del thinks of all of this, his expression unreadable beneath the scarf that keeps his nose and mouth warm-- still. He must have approved this whole venture, right? << We'll worry about that when we get there, >> reports Cadejoth. << It's a long flight. So we -- well, /you/ -- may have to rest a bit. K'del and I have Official Business. >> But they're all there, and with that, he hurtles off towards southeast. << We go /this/ way! >>
Szadath> Balyeroth doesn't have far to go either, and he's soon in the sky above the starstones as well, coming to hover near his brother brother. << X'en says he's not been there before! This will be an experience. >> He sends. << Yes, yes, what are we going to there? Besides flying? Are there ladies in distress there that we have to rescue? >> This gets a groan from X'en, and a facepalm. << A long flight! Lots to see! >> Balyeroth croons, and tilts his wings to follow the much larger bronze. << Oooo, we get to go on official business! >>
Szadath> From Balyeroth's neckridges, X'en says, "brown brother*"
Szadath> Liniath has almost as far to come from the ground as Cadejath, but that's not slowing her down. << Official business? Can we help? I bet I could look all pretty and official! >> Liniath adds with an overly bright mental giggle. Really, it's as likely to annoy as anything. << I bet there will be sun to lay in! >>
Szadath> Iskiveth is here! She's here! Apparently Teris took a little more convincing than 'I want to gooooo'. The weyrling has a jacket and hat and gloves on, but nothing too overkill for the weather. << What sort of Official Business? >> Iskiveth isn't shy about questions that might be personal as she pushes to follow and attempt to be somewhere in the front of the rest of the weyrlings. << Teris says that yours should remember not to look like a kicked puppy. >> Whatever that means.
Szadath> Szadath dashes off to follow after Cadejoth, jockeying to take up one of the two flanking positions to his rear. << And can we do formations? Like a drill, but WAY better? >> Apparently /this/ is his ultimate excitement: flying in formation with a dragon who's in a /real/ wing. << It can be like we're going to fight something /and/ official business. >> He glances over towards Iskiveth, his enthusiasm for the exercise obvious in the rapid whirling of his gaze. << We can fly in formation together, right? >>
Szadath> << No, no, no: K'del and I are on Official Business. The rest of you are... not. >> Cadejoth has only the faintest hint of apology for that, though he adds in with increased enthusiasm all over again, << I bet there will be lots of sun, though! And your riders can explore. >> Over the rim, mountains, and beyond that, valleys spread out before them: Cadejoth increases his wingbeats, adding, << If you get tired, let me know. We'll stop and take a rest. But I don't see why we can't fly in formation. V-formation, and /go/. >> His answer to Iskiveth takes a few moments more to be shared: << He won't say what kind. And he says to tell yours, Iskiveth, that he's not an idiot. >> So there.
Szadath> Liniath moves to her spot in that formation easily by this point. << Silarra is happy for a chance to spend time somewhere besides the weyr. >> Liniath shares as they soar along. << Even if we don't get to be official. >>
Szadath> Balyeroth falls into his spot in the formation easily by now, as they fly through the sky, wings pausing on ocassion to fly with the wind currents as they go. << X'en is as well, he says he was hoping we would get to go places outside of the weyr. >> He says. X'en mean while is busy checking out the sights far below him, like some kind of tourist, minus the camera, and tacky clothing. He does straighten on ocassion to make sure they still in formation.
Szadath> << Oh, I want to fight something! >> Except Iskiveth knows that she won't be able to so she's almost immediately disappointed. Fortunately, her attention span on these matters is short and soon it's onto, << Szadath and I will be next behind Cadejoth. >> Beyond that, she apparently doesn't care so much who's behind her and who's behind the brown. To the bronze, however, she can say, << She says that of course he would say that. >> But if anyone looks at Teris, /she/ is looking out to the scenery below.
Szadath> Nothing could apparently make Szadath happier than flying in formation with his siblings and a real wingleader. << This is the best trip /ever/. >> Never mind that it's probably the first trip he's ever actually taken. He's far more focused on watching his wingmates fly than the scenery. << We're really good at this. The best, you know. >> Just in case anyone was wondering.
Szadath> Cadejoth seems pleased and proud - a bronze, followed so closely by his offspring, and such /fine/ offspring, too! - and narrates for most of the trip. << This is Nabol! >> he tells them. << And this is Keogh, which sees to Nabol. >> And so on, all the way. They make a couple of short stops, they change formations several times - he even lets them take turns leading them! - before, finally, with a trumpet, he announces, << That's Greenfields, just over there in the distance. Can you see it? We'll be there soon! Greenfields sees to Crom. And K'del says that Nabol's Lady is from Greenfields, and she's young and hot. >> Go figure.
Szadath> Cadejoth adds, a moment later, << But I don't think I was supposed to say that. Don't tell! >>
Szadath> If at any point in the trip Szadath has gotten tired, he'd never admit to it, though he certainly isn't protesting the rests. He's been pretty focused over the course of the trip, growing quiet as he puts all his effort into being the /best/ wingmate he could ever be. But once Greenfields comes into sight, he's suddenly volunteering, << Mine says there are lots of young and hot ladies at Greenfields. She knows where they are. >>
Szadath> Balyeroth has certainly been delighted by this trip, and likely loved it when he got to lead, and times when they switched positions. << What do they see about them? >> He sends to the bronze, and then trumpets. << Greenfields! We made it! It's the loveliest thing ever! >> He says, and soiunds just a bit amused as he speaks up now. << Lots and lots of ladies in distress, I bet! That we can save! >>
Szadath> Liniath enjoys the scenery on the way, with Silarra peering over her neck. Overall though, the pair are quiet through the flight, the green's enthusiastic babble only picking back up as they close in on landing. << Greenfields! Yes! We made it all the way! They are hot? Maybe we need to bring some cool lake water for them to cool off in. >>
Szadath> Iskiveth does protest their rests but not /too/ loudly. And she's not looking at anyone in particular considering she probably actually does need them. Other than this and some asides about their formations, Iskiveth doesn't say a whole lot and it's probably because of her lifemate's influence. Teris is such a spoilsport. But once Greenfields is in sight, the gold can't help herself, screeching, << Oh! I bet I can get there first! >>
Szadath> Cadejoth, who is back to leading the formation as they close in on Greenfields, sweeps lower, chatting away merrily as he does so. << K'del says to say that even if you're no longer on restrictions, you should be careful about who you chase. >> The note of remembered dismay must, of course, be K'del's. Who else? << And maybe no water. Though... >> K'del again. Right? And then: << A race, Iskiveth? Okay! A race. On your marks, get set-- >> He holds out it, waiting a moment, and then: << Go! Meet you in the courtyard! >>
Szadath> A race! A race! Szadath is down for that! He lets out a bugle as he surges forward, muscles bunching powerfully along his chest and back as he seeks to compensate for his smaller stature with raw power. << I'm going to catch you! I'm going to /win/! >> He angles for the courtyard, spurred onwards by Taikrin's excited whoops. << Mine says first one gets a hot girl! >>
Szadath> All this talk of hot girls is still confusing Liniath, it seems. Maybe Silarra is refusing to explain. << And then toss her in water or something to cool her down? Why would you want a hot girl? Are they better than cold ones? >> But the green will take off for the courtyard, even though she's hopelessly outgunned from the start, being the smallest dragon there.
Szadath> Balyeroth gives a trumpet as they near Greenfields. << A race! A race! Let's race! >> He says, and on the word go, he's off like a shot, it's the thrill of the race that matters, even if they don't win! << Yes, hot girls should be tossed on water, so they aren't so hot! >>
Szadath> Iskiveth lets out a high-pitched bugle of excitement at the GO! and takes off to attempt to keep some lead on her brown clutchmate as they barrel toward the courtyeard. Hopefully no one down there will get upset by the imagery. << I'll win! But mine doesn't want hot anything. But maybe a hot girl will have treasure to give me! >> Eventually the gold is making to land, points seeming a little sharper for the excited way she holds herself.
Szadath> Isn't it interesting, the way the courtyard suddenly empties itself of everyone, just like that? There are even a few people with their upper bodies aimed out of windows just /staring/ at the group of invading dragons. Well. They /do/ look a bit scary. Probably, K'del is facepalming. Or maybe he's just wiping at his face? Who knows. << K'del likes them hot. And we-- K'del says I shouldn't say that. Don't land on anyone! >>
Szadath> Despite his best efforts, Szadath can't quite overtake Iskiveth, but he's only a few wingbeats behind her when he backwings to a landing in the courtyard, attempting to keep to one side to make room for the entire incoming army of weyrling dragons. << Man Iskiveth, did you practice racing? >> His chest is heaving with effort as he attempts to catch his breath. << I'll get you next time! >> Taikrin, who's been pretty mellow for the entire trip, unbuckles herself but remains atop Szadath for the moment. << Mine asks, what we are to do if we are not on official business? >>
Szadath> Well, nobody can deny that they don't know how to make an entrance! Too bad most of the poor people at the hold won't see it. Balyeroth trumpets. << How are we supposed to land on any of them if they all disappeared? >> He He says, and comes in third, as he back wings to a landing in the courtyard. << Good race! >>
Szadath> Pterath huffs, just a little offended at the rapid disappearance of all the people. << They probably thought we /were/ going to land on them, >> she says, annoyed by that. << I know how to land without hitting anyone. >> Just as she says this, she thumps neatly down to the ground, and folds her wings and moves over politely to make more room for the next dragon to land.
Szadath> Liniath doesn't seem to mind very much not being first. Instead she'll turn her effort towards making the /perfect/ landing, setting down gently in the courtyard. << I know better than to squish someone like they were a patch of mud. >> Liniath states, apparently distracted for the moment from the topic of cooling down hot girls.
Szadath> The gold puffs up proudly, as much as she can with the deep breaths she takes, for the win and Szadath's words. << Of course! Golds are supposed to be really good at racing. Teris said to never let anyone catch me! >> Iskiveth does not quite get the actual meaning of this yet, evidently. << I wouldn't land on any of them, >> she adds, peering around. That probably won't help much. She's not exactly friendly looking. Teris, however, is so happy to be able to unbuckle herself and, at this point, land on somewhat shaking legs.
Szadath> << They're just not used to dragons en masse, I think. And /racing/. >> What a life it must be! Without /dragons/ and /racing/ and /fun/. Cadejoth rattles his chains mournfully the idea, as he settles down onto the courtyard-- the very last, but in no way concerned by it. Rather than answering Szadath's question himself, he's silent, letting his rider, who unbuckles, pulls off helmet and scarf, and /then/ dismounts, do it for him. He has to stretch, and shake out his legs one by one, admitting, "Not used to spending that much time in the air anymore. Between's faster. So... I gotta do some talking with the Holder, so... want to look around? Find something you can do to keep out of trouble?"
It's only once all the dragons have landed that Taikrin slides down off Szadath's shoulder, though she remains near the brown. "Used t'live at Greenfields y'know, for a while," she offers oh-so-casually at K'del's question as she pulls her helmet off and fluffs her short-cropped hair. "Know a place maybe we could hang out an' wait." She pauses to consider, then adds, "Safe, an' all, promise. Fun, too."
Szadath> Balyeroth croons as he moves to crouch down in the courtyard. X'en mneawhile is climbind down his blues side, though after such a long ride, he puts a hand on his blues foreleg to steady himself. "Shards, my legs aint never been this sore." He says, and manages to look at K'del, giving the Weyrleader a nod. "Right, look around, sounds good ta me." He says,
Szadath> G'brion slides down to the ground, reaching up with one hand to slap Pterath's neck in a gesture of rough affection. One eyebrow goes up when he catches sight of Teris and her shaking legs, and he takes a few steps in her direction. "Are you okay?" he asks, frowning slightly with concern. He casts a glance and a nod K'del's way, and then looks back at Teris.
Szadath> Liniath tilts her head to look around. << I bet we can find a great sunny spot near here! >> She adds enthusiastically as Silarra slips down her side rubbing at her thighs. "Feels like I just took a long ride on a runner." She decides before she gives K'del a smirk. "So feel free to wander but don't piss off the locals?"
Szadath> "I'm fine," Teris says quickly and firmly to that question, pausing to compose herself into her usual state of being. "Not used to rides that long." This last is a little more absent as the gold weyrling casts her gaze out around them, attempting to decide where might be at all interesting to try exploring. Iskiveth stretches out her wings before settling them along her sinewy body, then stretches each foreleg in turn as she sits back on her haunches.
Szadath> "Suspect you might all be a bit tired by tonight. Sore, too," puts in K'del, with a glance from one weyrling to another, all the way around the group. "Hot baths all round, okay? Muscles have to get used to it. Exactly like riding a runner." It doesn't seem to have taken him too long to recover, because he's now busy smoothing down his shirt, checking the buttons, adjusting his collar. If he has any doubt of Taikrin's offer, he keeps it from showing, making a grand gesture of saying, "Sounds good, Taikrin. You'll keep an eye on the younger ones, right? And I'll come find you when I'm done. You're all representatives of High Reaches, remember. Good impressions." That's an answer to Silarra, too, made with a bob of the head in her direction. "Can always call Cadejoth, if you run into a problem."
Szadath> From Pterath's neckridges, "Oh, okay," Gabe says to Teris with a shrug as he takes a small step back. He looks around at the others, and his gaze settles on Taikrin with interest. "You used to live here, really? Is this where your family is at?" he asks. "We could go visit them!"
Szadath> "Yeah, yeah, reckon we could all use some relaxin', huh?" Taikrin claps her hands against her thighs, emboldened by K'del's faith. "Know /just/ the place." A final slap for Szadath's shoulder, and then she's moving to gather up those younger weyrlings in particular. "A'course I'll watch out for 'em." She nears Gabe, reaching out to tap his shoulder with her first. "Nah, not my family. After I left. Don't know who's still around, but I know where we used t'hang out. Some real good places. S'just outside the wall, place I'm thinkin'. Real short walk."
Szadath> Silarra gives Taikrin an actual grin. "Well then, I'll follow your lead." And she really will heading over towards them as Liniath finds a place to sun. "A place to relax sounds good. It was a good flight though." The long flight seems to have left this weyrling in a rather good mood, at least.
Szadath> Balyeroth finds a spot to relax as well with the rest of the dragons. X'en heads for where the rest of the weyrlings are. "A place ta relax would be great after all that flying." He says in agreement. "Wow, it didn't seem like we were up there that long, there was so much ta see on the way here."
Szadath> "I don't need anyone watching out for /me/," Teris is quick to point out just in case anyone was thinking otherwise. But she's evidently going with them to wherever Taikrin is leading them off to, legs working better now that she's on her feet again. "You be good," the blonde says firmly to her lifemate, who is by all appearances, except for a quick snort, ignoring her.
Szadath> From Pterath's neckridges, "Wouldn't mind a little relaxing!" G'brion says brightly to Taikrin, with a big smile for the fist-tap. He gives Teris a funny look, but doesn't comment about whether she needs watching out for. All he says is, "It was a good long flight. Fun. We should do this more often, you know? I'm going to take a long flight somewhere next day off, I think. Whoever wants to can come, we can bring a picnic or something, wouldn't that be fun?"
Szadath> K'del fastens a long glance on the group of weyrlings, but seems satisfied enough. For now. "Okay," he agrees. "Guess you're all set to go off, then. Be--" But he's already told them to be good, so he just shakes his head, breaks it off, and heads off towards the Main Hall, where, it seems likely, the Greenfields Holder is waiting for him. Weyrlings at large. For the first time since they Impressed. Oh dear.
You head off somewhere.
Dive Bar, Greenfields Hold(#1636R)
Despite the dirt, the dim lighting, and the obviously battle-scarred furniture, there is nothing overtly dangerous about the dive bar tucked against the corner of Greenfields proper. The main barroom is low-slung and windowless, and lit with flickering glows that seem to be perpetually in danger of guttering out entirely. A long, darkly stained and pitted bar stretches across one end of the room, complete with rickety stools that often play host to a set of rough-looking (and drunk) characters.
The rest of the room boasts a scattering of equally scarred round tables and oft-repaired chairs, filled with the same mix of gnarled laborers and somewhat disreputable young people in search of a quick thrill. Behind the bar is a shut door, which apparently leads to a set of storerooms and offices for the bar management types. There's a reek of spilled beer in the air, mixed with the sightly sour scent of sweat and the salty, greasy smell of the snacks brought in to appease the patrons.
Available Commands: +tp/help
Obvious exits:
Out
Taikrin is unusually chatty on the entire walk through the hold, mentioning this hangout or that adventure out into the fields -- nothing outright illegal, but none of them precisely on the up-and-up, either. And as she opens the beat-up door to the bar, she moves to usher the others in as if to the finest establishment in the hold. "-- an' we used t'hang out here after, uh, workin', an' they got some /really/ good beer if y'know t'ask for it. Always used t'take good care of us, too, if we was maybe a little short of marks, y'know?"
There are only a few occupants to the bar this early in the day, along with the bartender. At first nobody pays much mind to the arriving crew, but some second glances begin prompting mutters: newcomers, and /riders/, from the looks of them. Nothing overtly hostile, but there's definitely some surprise and guarded suspicion.
G'brion trots along after, listening avidly to the monologue. As they troop into the bar, he laughs at the last part. "What do they give you if you don't know to ask for the good beer?" he asks Taikrin, a little too loudly. Oops.
Silarra peers around at all the different places Taikrin mentions with a smirking smile still on her face. As they step inside she glances around with raised eyebrows. "Seems so nice and cozy." Silarra states with a sarcastic tone, flashing a smile towards one of the people eyeing them. "Good beer? Hope they still have it."
Teris follows along at some point behind the rest of them. Some part of her probably doesn't want to get left entirely alone and have to spend the day in some hold she's not familiar with at all. That doesn't mean she's going to get all buddy buddy and friendly. Though she's not being outright abrasive, either. "Do they have wine?" she finally speaks up.
X'en looks around the hold with interest as they walk. He looks around the bar, however, as he steps inside. "Good beer? I'd be interested in that if they got any." He says, giving a bit of a smile towards those eyeing them. "Nice place, aye. Glad ya knew of this place Taikrin."
"Yeeeeah, well, best we don't find out, huh Gabe? We'll just make sure we get th'good stuff." Taikrin is happy to lead the way to the bar with more than a little swagger in her step, pulling herself up onto a stool and giving the worker next to her a bright smirk. "I, uh-- dunno if they got wine. I never asked, y'know? But th'beer's real good, if I remember right. Sure they got that." That overbright smile is directed to her fellow weyrlings, her eagerness to make a good impression obvious. "I know, right? Ain't this place great? Faranth, I spent /hours/ here hangin' out with th'crew, y'know?"
This early in the day, no one gets into the bar without the Bartender noticing. He even stops in his haphazard polishing of a (dirty) glass to look the group of weyrlings up and down several times over. He doesn't actually do anything more than that, though, not until Taikrin leads the group over; then, setting the glass down, he heads towards them with raised eyebrows. "C'n I help you?" Maybe his gaze rests longer on Taikrin than everyone else. Well. She /does/ look like the leader, doesn't she?
G'brion hops up onto a stool next to Taikrin. "Are any of your friends here now?" he asks, looking around and waving gaily at that one guy over there that's staring at them. "I like beer," he adds, almost as firmly as Teris insisted earlier that she didn't need any looking after. He looks at Taikrin, though; he'll leave the ordering part to her.
Silarra makes her way over to take a seat on Taikrin's other side, tucking her feet around the pole of the stool. "I'm still trusting you on knowing what's good to drink." After all, Taikrin didn't lead her astray in the Snowasis, right? She turns for a moment to look around the place before the bartender gets a quick smirk of a smile. She'll let Taikrin answer but does look over to Gabe. "Remember, we're not supposed to piss people off."
Somewhat out of her element, Teris is happy enough to allow the brownrider to take the lead here. She seems happy enough to even act like she's one of the rest of the weyrlings and not some complete other person entirely. All this talk about beer, though, makes Teris roll her eyes and approach the bar to sit a couple of seats down from anyone, saying to the bartender, "Do you have wine? Red, preferably. And not completely awful."
X'en goes to take a seat as well at the bar, giving a nod. Taikrin knew this place best, it was best to let her talk. "I'm fine with the beer, long as it's the good stuff." He says toward the group, before he looks up at Teris' question, the woman must not like beer. "Beers good fer drinkin', though some of it's better than others."
Taikrin's gaze is still lingering on the other weyrlings - Teris in particular - so she responds over her shoulder with, "Yeah, we need a coupl'a beers -- th'special brew, if y'got it -- an'--" It takes her brain a minute to catch up with her eyes, but once it does her gaze goes wide and a little star-struck. "--an bloody shells, Grathon, s'that you?! Th'shell you still doin' workin' here?" She pauses a moment to catch her breath, then gushes, "S'me, Taikrin! Been a few turns, y'know? Used t'work on Zuman's crew, a'fore I ran into a bad patch, y'know? Anyways, out now, an' I told Zuman maybe I'd be comin' down now, an' I brought some of th'other weyrlings, y'know, 'cause this's th'best place t'hang this side of Crom!" Beam, beam, beam. She's just so smug and /happy/.
It's as though Grathon has been waiting for a cue, because as soon as Taikrin reminds him who she is, his nod is unreservedly one of welcome. "Aye, Taikrin, how c'd I forget? Reckon he even passed word we might see you... mentioned you'd hit it big." /Weyrlings/, after all. Again, his gaze slides down the group of weyrlings, all the way to Taikrin a few seats down, and, okay, maybe his eyes /do/ light just the slightest bit. "Four beers, and a-- well. Ain't really got much call to serve wine, but mayhap there's something out the back, Weyrwoman. 'pologies if it's not up to standard, but we rarely get such illustrious company."
G'brion casts a wounded look at Silarra. "What did I do?" he asks her under his breath. "'I like beer' is going to piss someone off?" He flashes a grin at Grathon, briefly: see? he's not pissing people off, he's being friendly! and then makes a face at his cousin.
"Sometimes there's such a thing as /too/ friendly." Silarra mutters across Taikrin to her cousin. Isn't the brownrider lucky to be right between them? And then she'll give Taikrin a smile. "Seems to be your day for seeing old friends then."
X'en blinks, and chuckles. "Nice ta see one person ya know is still here, Taikrin." He remarks, and nods to the bartender as he surmises their orders, but he does wince about the wine. "Dunno Teris, if it's been sittin' out back, if might not be that great."
Teris gives a long suffering sort of sigh then waves her hand dismissively, glancing to X'en, then back to the bartender. "That's not necessary. I'll have... is your water safe to-- do you even /have/ water?" She's not going to assume a whole lot about this place, apparently. "How about a," she holds her thumb and forefinger not far apart from each other, "small bit of whiskey? I don't mind that." In small doses. /Now/ that that's done, her attention can focus on the fact that Taikrin is acquainted with the man.
It doesn't really seem to bother Taikrin to be in the midst of the bickering: in fact, the moves to sling an around around Silarra as she makes introductions. "An' these two kids're Silarra an' Gabe-- uh, G'brion. Ride green. An this here's X'en, he's on blue, an' I guess y'heard of Teris." More modestly (which is to say, she's not /quite/ as outrageously smug) she adds, "Reckon I did okay, y'know? Szadath's more'n I ever hoped t'have, when we was gettin' wasted in here after a long day, y'know?" Teris' order gets a guffaw of surprise, but the look she gives the other weyrling is wholeheartedly approving.
"You've never had that problem before, Silarra! I wouldn't worry," Gabe says to his cousin, much too sweetly. Then he turns back to the bartender with a much more genuine smile. "Hi, nice to meet you," he says happily as he's introduced.
"Whiskey it is, then," says Grathon, with a certain measure of overstated respect, his head lowering carefully in Teris' direction. His hands busy themselves after that, pouring several decent looking beers in dirty pint glasses, then making a show of cleaning a shot glass properly - with a clean handkerchief, even! - to serve Teris' whiskey in. "Good t'meet you all," he says, genially. "Friends of Taikrin, here, well-- friends of mine, too." His glance at the brownrider is approving, even, as he slides the drinks across the bar towards them all. "Visitin' alone, then? Long way to fly, would've thought."
Silarra actually doesn't even stiffen up at the arm around her shoulders, this time, relaxing a bit into it instead. "Haha, Gabe." She wrinkles her nose over at her cousin before she reaches out for a glass, not seeming to care about it's cleanliness. Teris's harder drink gets a quick look before she takes a sip of hers. "Good beer." She states, as if she knows anything about it. "And nice to meet you, Grathon."
If someone were going to ask Teris, she would probably tell them that there's no such thing as overstated respect. She's probably liking it. And she's ignoring any reactions about her choice of drink in the absence of decent wine. "Thank you," she says to the man as he cleans her glass, then adds, "We're not alone. The Weyrleader is on official business here." Said Weyrleader might even be surprised that she doesn't make him sound like an idiot by tone of voice.
Taikrin releases Silarra to deftly grab her beer off the counter as it's slid down, knocking back a good quarter of the tankard before sighing in approval. "Yeah, this's th'good stuff." It's only after she's begun sastisfying that thirst that she offers after Teris, oh so casually, "Weyrleader brought us out, special, for trainin', y'know? We're doin' exercises now, drills. Gettin' th'dragons stronger!" She drains another couple of fingers out of her beer with more than a little enthusiasm. "Bloody shells, I missed this! /Way/ better'n th'watered down stuff at th'Snowasis, ain't it Silarra? Any of th'old crew kickin' around still, you know? Lost track of 'em after that gather. Been meanin' t'track down Zuman an' thank him for his, uh, present. Real thoughtful of 'im."
Resting meaty arms on the bartop, Grathon remarks, "The /Weyrleader/ at that. Movin' up in the world, Taikrin. Consorting with them folks. What's he like, the kid Weyrleader? Must trust you, let you back to your old stomping grounds like this. New woman, all that?" The reaction to his beer gets a certain smugness; he nods along easily. "Aye, can't beat our beer. Best in the game, if I do say so myself. Zuman's not about, but Lanvec - you remember Lanvec? Lost his ear that time, broke his arm - he's working for me these days. Down in the storeroom, reorganising like, if you wanted to say hi. For old time's sake."
"It's not bad," Gabe says easily after taking a long drink of beer. He's not quite as enthusiastic as Taikrin, though, about, well, any of it, until Grathon asks about the weyrleader. "K'del is awesome," he says firmly, even if the question wasn't meant for him. "He's not one of those people who's just like 'That's the rule, so there,' you know? He pays attention to the actual situation."
Silarra takes another sip of her beer before she answers. "Definitely at least as good. Don't know that I've tasted either enough to get more of an opinion than that." She nods her head. "K'del's young but it's not like he's clueless or anything. Knows what he's doing by now." From what she's seen or heard. "Lost an ear? Ouch."
X'en catches his mug, and takes a drink from it, giving an refreshed aaah after he brings it back down. "Aye, this is definitely better than that junk at the Snowasis! Any chance we could take any of it home with us, Grathon?" He asks the man, and sets to listening for a moment. "Aye, K'del's pretty nice, if he wasn't, I dun think he woulda brought us, or let an excon lead peeople around." He winces though. "Ouch, loosin's an ear, that had ta be rough."
For her part, Teris isn't going to say a whole lot about the Weyrleader other than what she has since it might not be quite so flattering at this point. Instead she considers her drink with a small sip, studying this Grathon and his exchanges with Taikrin in silence. Or perhaps in conversation with her lifemate, who is no doubt entirely interested in things she shouldn't be.
"HAH, yeah, 'course I remember 'im! Near got my guts dumped on th'floor that night! Still got th'scar... that was a good time." Taikrin is being entirely serious-- she's even somewhat wistful for those, uh, good old days. There's a dirty look in there somewhere for X'en and his dirty word, though she doesn't call him on it verbally. Instead, the rest of her tankard is drained in a flash, and then she's leaning over to nudge G'brion's shoulder with hers. "He /is/ pretty okay. Seems real, uh, open, y'know?" She's got a certain look that's being directed at the bartender, one eyebrow raising speculatively. "Yeah, guess maybe I might go pop my head down there in a bit, say hey an' whatnot."
Dragon> To Balyeroth, Szadath is nearly half asleep in the courtyard sun, which renders his voice low and droning and only half-there. << Mine says you must tell yours that what he said is a dirty word and not to say it again. >>
Grathon /does/ seem to be paying a lot of attention to what the group think of K'del, and a certain, considering glance lingers on Teris when she doesn't provide anything more. But this is a barkeep, a man of words, and he doesn't let his silence reign for long: "Good to hear it. Good Weyrleader makes all the difference, even out here. 'tany rate, Couldn't possibly let any of my brew take lakes, 'm'afraid. Else, who'd come and visit me? You'll just have to visit again." His more serious nod accompanies a, "Not much good, man with no ear. Distinctive, you know?" Taikrin's speculative glance gets no particular response, just an easy, "Sure he'd like to see you. Promise, won't let no harm go to your friends."
G'brion doesn't get it. "Why wouldn't he be any good just because he's missing an ear?" he asks. "He can still hear, right?" He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand after another pull from his beer.
Silarra rolls her eyes over to Gabe. "Because he was doing something where he didn't want to be recognized." She points out, with a tone like she's talking to a small child. And then Taikrin gets a smile. "Bet we can keep out of any serious trouble for long enough for you to go say hi." Famous last words.
Taikrin peers mournfully at her empty glass a moment, then pops off her stool with only a little bit of a stagger. "Well, reckon I shouldn't keep 'im waiting. Man only has one ear, y'know. Makes 'im impatient." It makes sense, in Taikrin's world. She pauses, though, swivelling on her heel to eye the other weyrlings with a hint of anxiety. "Gonna go see 'im an' hit th'head. None of you guys're gonna wander off, okay? Silarra, Xeo, no startin' bar fights 'till I get back, yeah?" She wavers uncertainly for a moment more, but then moves off to duck under the bar and towards the door at the back, calling, "Save room t'do a round with me when I get back! Whiskeys all around!" And then she's gone, disappeared behind that heavy door.
Visiting again might not be an entirely likely prospect for Teris but she offers the man her usual poker smile all the same and takes another drink. It might be a little more clear that she doesn't like the idea of Taikrin of all people just wandering off to do Faranth knows what by herself. She watches the other weyrling disappearing and continues watching that point for several moments before returning her attention to Grathon. "Hard to keep a low profile when it's so easy to remember things about you," she says in regards to this one-eared man, all casual.
Grathon keeps half an eye on Taikrin as she excuses herself, but as soon as she's disappeared behind that door, he turns his full attention back to the group. "Aye," he agrees, with a particular bob of the head towards Teris. "'tis a sad thing, but not everyone is an upstanding citizen like you or I. Poor Lanvec, he never had much of a chance in life, though if I do say so myself, was his lucky day to lose that ear. Gone clean now, a'course. Makin' a new life for hisself. May serve the lot of them, but a man knows right from wrong, and-- well. Makes a man feel good, seeing 'em turn clean."
"Oh," Gabe says, and falls silent in favor of drinking his beer. He frowns slightly, and casts a glance in the direction Taikrin disappeared off to, looking dubious about something.
X'en grunts as he gets the mental message passed on, and he rolls his eyes. "Damn, will have ta make sure I come again then." He says, and takes another long drink from his mug. "Sounds like an interestin' man, then." He says, and watches Taikrin leave, before looking around again.
Silarra watches Taikrin go before she takes another drink of her beer. "Always interesting and fascinating how life works its way around." Silarra states dryly. "Good thing for him that he could find a position here with you then, I suppose." Though she doesn't sound as enthusiastic about it as she was her drink.
G'brion sets his mostly empty glass down on the bar, and hops off his stool. "I gotta go take a leak," he says to Silarra and the others. "Be back in a bit." And he wanders off in what he assumes is the appropriate direction.
Teris makes some acknowledging sound for what the bartender says but she doesn't seem all that interested in continuing along that line of thought with either him or any of the other weyrlings. That's probably not very surprising to them, at least. Instead she finishes off the rest of her drink and considers the empty glass like she's not really sure what she wants to do with it now.
"Such doleful glances! She'll be back soon, our Taikrin. Can't begrudge her a visit with an old friend, surely?" Grathon is all lightness, and if he's hiding something about the reason for the visit, well, it doesn't show in his manner: no, he seems pretty genuinely honest. Or he's a good actor, one or the other. "But, now, speaking of Taikrin... how's she doin', really? Doin' us proud? Wanting nothin' else in her life?" And then, "More drinks? Another whiskey, weyrwoman? More beers, everyone else?"
"She and Szadath are doing really well." And apparently that's as far as Silarra's going to describe it for now. She looks down to the glass she's been sipping from and shakes her head. "No, thanks. One is good for now. Got to fly all the way home later." And with her size, she could well be quite the light weight.
"She's doing well, yes. Working her way into the leadership program that we have for the weyrlings." Teris is good at making herself sound important. She's had a lot of practice with that. "I've been helping her. We've gotten really close." Okay, that's a lie but you couldn't tell by the way she says it. "I'm not sure I should have anymore," she admits about the whiskey but she sets the glass back down carefully on the bar top as though she hasn't entirely made up her mind.
"Eh, gimme another, Grathon." IUt wasn't the first time X'en's drank before, and likely not to the last. "Aye, Taikrin's doin' great, we just moved outta the barracks the other night, so we don't see each other as often, cept fer lessons, and junk." And spur of the moment flying trips like this one.
"/Leadership/!" And doesn't Grathon look proud? "Good for her. Nice to hear she's got good friends like that." And /important/ ones, which seems to be a point worth labouring, even if it's only in the way the barkeep looks at Teris. It's all in the knot, apparently. "And you've all moved out on your own-- got to feel good. Dragons flying, all the rest, must be getting close to complete freedom, mm?" He slides another beer across to X'en, and puts Silarra's glass out of reach, though Teris' stays where it is. Just in case, of course.
"Got a while yet until we have complete freedom, but getting our own places to rest our head? That was a big step in the right direction." Silarra states, fidgeting a bit on her stool, with a look at Grathon for the way the barkeep is looking at Teris. Silarra doesn't seem impressed with that.
It's not much longer before Taikrin comes barreling back out of the door, laughing in a way that might or might not be nervous, and with her hands full of... rug. Literally. She's clutching a rolled up, darkly dyed rag-styled wool /rug/ to her chest, even as she's calling out, "-- an' I'll write t'you later, Lanvec!" Her grin, though broad, isn't entirely easy as she bellies back up to the bar stool while akwardly managing her bundle. "Look, he gave me a weyrwarming present!" Her gaze meets Grathon's for a momeent, then shies away, drifting from one weyrling to another with a big, bright smile. "What're you guys goin' on about? What'd I miss? Hopefully no stabbings while I was gone? Grathon ain't tellin' y'all any stories, is he?"
Another simple, acknowledging sound is offered for Grathon's continued attempts at conversation. Teris just isn't the sort that's all that interested in it. Fortunately Taikrin returning makes it so that Teris doesn't /have/ to keep saying anything. She offers a smile that looks genuine to the brownrider, "What's that you have there?" Curious. "Good reunion? I left my knife at home, unfortunately." No stabbings today. Though it probably wasn't her anyone was asking.
Grathon lifts both hands as if to imply pure innocence, but his smile for Taikrin is undeniably warm. "Kept 'em safe as holds, promise. Haven't even filled 'em with any more alcohol, 'cept this one." X'en, who gets indicated with one hand. "Looks like a nice piece, that one. Must be paying him too much! You'll have another? Whiskey?"
X'en snorts. "She's doin' a good job at it too, hope she gets in." He says, and nods. "Aye, never had my own place before, so it'ss great." He takes a drink of the beer, though this time slower. "Pretty close, aye, though they lowered most of the restrictions." He smirks. "Includin' the ones restrictin' drinkin'." Taikrin's reemergence makes him turn, and he raises an eyebrow at the rolled up rug. "A rug? Looks like a nice one."
"Great ones! About this one time with you and this hooker." Silarra deadpans before she sighs. "Told K'del I'd be good. Suppose that means I should try to stay away from the stabbings. Even if that's no fun." The weyrwarming gifts catches her gaze. "A rug? That should be good for beside your bed or something.
It's at this point that Cadejoth - having spent much of the time up until now conversing with the watchdragon and enjoying the sun - perks up, extending a tendril of thought towards the weyrling dragons. << K'del's done! Should he come find you, or will you join him in the courtyard again? >>
Taikrin shifts the rug again, dropping it down to rest carefully against the side of the bar. "I know, right? Gave me a rug, since he reckoned new weyrs might be pretty cold what with winter comin' and all. It /is/ a nice one, too." Her smile is still terribly bright as it flicks from one weyrling to another, carefully avoiding Grathon all the while. "Hey, /I/ didn't know she was a hooker! She seemed into it! You guys thought it was /real/ funny." Uh. It's possible the somewhat put-out look isn't what Silarra was going for. "No fair tellin' 'em stories when I ain't here t'defend myself!" There's a moment hesitation, then she nods. "Take one more whiskey, though, I will. A'fore th'Weyrleader catches us. Brace me for th'ride home!"
Szadath is almost completely asleep at this point, his thoughts reflecting the laziness inherent in one who's been laying in the sun for a while. << Uhhh... what? >> He gives a start then, thoughts cracking like glaciers as he gets into gear. << He can come down if he wants. I think mine is almost finished though? >>
Teris is being pretty much silent now, swiveling in her seat and looking as though she's ready to get down without actually doing so yet. She glances toward the door. Iskiveth is out there somewhere but she hasn't been sleeping. She's been too interested in what's not nailed down to sleep.
Grathon laughs, pouring another round for those who want them; "Come back some time," he tells Silarra, "And I'll fill your ears with more stories than you can imagine about our Taikrin. But: drink up, then I'll let you lot go, then. Can't have my conversation keep your Weyrleader waiting! You'll be back, though." It seems to include all of them.
Balyeroth is content, and almost asleep himself, but the older bronzes mind touching his own, perks him up again. << Mine can come here if it's needed. >> He says. X'en in the bar glances at the door, and then back to Grathon, taking a long drink. "Ah, seems like we aint been here that long, but we best not keep him waitin', or he might not let us come back."
Silarra gives Taikrin a smirk. "Sure it was all a big mixup." And then Grathon gets his own smirk of a smile. "I will then. And you can tell me all the ones that I can use for blackmail." She notes before shaking her head. "Yeah. We'd better go join up with K'del. And see if my dearest cousin got lost trying to find where to take a piss."
"Haha, /very/ funny." Taikrin makes a face at Silarra, but doesn't offer any physical retribution. Yet. Instead, she occupies herself with shooting the whiskey that's been poured for her, despite the fact that it's /whiskey/. She gives herself a shake, then hops back off the stool and wrangles the rug again with that terribly cheerful smile. "Thanks f'r, uh, everything, Grathon. Reckon we'll be back again pretty soon, eh?" A pause as she looks around at the other weyrlings, then she offers, "I'll cover-- how much we owe you f'r th'rounds?"
Grathon waves a hand, easy as that - "No charge, this time. A congratulations. May the weyr think well of our little establishment." Beat. "/Next/ time, though..." And with that, he waves them off, back to the waiting dragons, and K'del, who seems largely uninterested in what they did to fill their time, except for reassuring himself that everyone is there, in one piece, and not going to throw up on the way home. Phew.