(no subject)
"Holy Freakin' Faranth," Denalia cries as she is awoken by the racket outside, her eyes staring warily about -- hey she had a night shift last night, be nice! -- as she falls from her bunk, tugging on her shoes as she approaches the front of the barracks full of confused guards milling about the entrance. "Someone wanna explain what's going /on/?" But, whilst tying her boot, her fair of firelizards around her head are going crazy, causing her to shriek a little and bat at them -- they finally pop between when she growls, stumbling closer towards the entrance than before.
Ceiri comes in at what would roughly be between a run and a trot, looking a bit out of breath. "Krummolt?" she asks, looking back and forth between the occupants. She's clearly calmer than some of the riders that have been seen. "Weyrwoman Chey...." She pauses, "She sent me here."
The guard headquarters is buzzing, though most of the guardsmen seem to have only questions, rather than any answers to them. The draconic keening outside is audible, but difficult to comprehend for non-riders. Krummolt emerges from the captain's office, still in the process of buckling his belt, in time to catch his name and the Weyrwoman's name. "I'm Captain Krummolt," he says, using a strong voice to cut through the chatter. "What did the Weyrwoman say?"
Ceiri pushes her hair back in agitation. "Frusha. She's gone. Or... her dragon is. They're keening." She takes a breath. "The Weyrwoman told me to have you go check Frusha's weyr. To.. make sure there's nothing there. And.. I think she wants a guard put on it, so nobody goes in. She said two men."
Though not asleep like Denalia, Jhairecki still flinches upright from where he's collapsed on his bunk in his few moments' rest. The keening has his attention, eyes flicking to the door and then Denalia when she and those firelizards raise their own racket. He automatically tips his head toward Krummolt at the new arrival's question, even as the captain is already turning to her. Jhairecki, for his part, sits up, leaning too nonchalantly against his headboard to eavesdrop.
Denalia isn't quite saluting, but is at full attention as she sidles up behind Krummolt, listening to Ceiri carefully -- which is hard over the rabble of the barracks around them. "F-- She's dead!" The girl is neither releaved nor depressed... just ultimately surprised. "I saw /that/ one coming." Okay, no she didn't... But she likes to think she was prepared. "Still.. I can't.. Can't believe it," is hushed under her breath as she begins to ruffle her hair in unease.
A short, sharp, heartfelt curse comes from the captain as he stops in place for a minute, staring at Ceiri as he attemps to digest the news. "Gone," he repeats. Abruptly, his eyebrows draw together and he whirls around with an air of recovered decisive command. "Guards! Heightened alert this sevenday at least! Expect time and a half to help keep order! You, and you!" He points at Jhairecki and Denalia, who happen to be close enough and standing to be convenient. "Come with me to stand guard on Frusha's weyr! You!" He turns back to Ceiri. "Go tell the Weyrwoman I'm on it, and I'll be up to help her however she needs."
Ceiri looks between the guards, chewing on her lower lip and hugging thin arms to herself in tension. She nods to Krummolt and takes a step back to get out of their way as the gear up, as well. "I will. I'll let her know. Thank you." Who knows who she's giving thanks for. Maybe in general.
Him? What? He didn't sign u--oh, wait. Yes he did. Jhairecki's expression is somewhere between crestfallen (he's with Denalia and Krummolt?) and curious (at least it's the ground floor of the scandal). He's up in a moment, joining the others with a snappy little salute, such a dutiful little guard.
Denalia hops into attention again, saluting, with an icy, "Yes sir!" tacked on the end. A stiff glance is sent back at Jhairecki as she waves for him to get moving -- she's just so insistent -- before she finishes lacing up her right boot and tosses on her lighter jacket. "Ready whenever you are, sir," is her last little pipe before she furrows her brow against the worries in her mind. One gold left. That can't be good, at all.
Krummolt hesitates a moment, then grabs an empty pack. "Follow me," he orders the recruits. As he passes the desk sergeant, he orders, "Extra patrols all day. Start organizing it." And then he strides out of the barracks, making for Frusha's weyr, near the ground weyrs.
Krummolt leads the way to the entrance to Frusha's weyr and stops there. "You two...stay here. No one but me, Il'ad, Chey or T'ii in and out. I'm going to do a survey. Stay here unless I call you." He pauses a minute, then notes, "Once I've made a pass through, I'll probably send full guardsmen to relieve you." And he turns to go inside.
"Yes sir!" Denalia quips as quick as she's ordered, but a bit of disgruntlement shows on her face as Krummolt states they aren't allowed in. Bugger. She never gets to do anything interesting! "But-- Let us know if you need anything else, sir."
"Yes, sir," Jhairecki echoes Denalia, albeit less peppily as he stops just outside the door himself. He glances over at his companion recruit, brows arching at her eagerness, but with Krummolt entering, Jhairecki quickly looks back to him to watch that. And peer inside much as he can, with somewhat less attention on who might be coming up their way.
Krummolt lifts a departing hand to acknowledge Denalia. "Definitely," he says, then disappears inside. It is quiet, but for some rummaging noises.
"Do you think she's in there.. dead?" The girl gets it out right off the bat, trying to peer in along with her fellow recruit. "The dragons suicide when their rider dies... Maybe she wasn't on Griellitath at all. I wonder what they'll do if she is. Bet she's start stinking if they don't figure out somethin' soon. I've never had to deal with dead bodies before." There she goes rambling -- but, considering how uneasy and tense she is at the moment, it has nothing to do with the fact she actually /wants/ to say anything.
"Always burned 'em, before," says Jhairecki idly, mouth pursing as he peers inside, then slants a glance over at Denalia again. "Never dealt with dead people, a guard," he wonders, but moves on with a lift of his shoulders. His voice is lowered slightly. "Figure she offed herself, one way or another--or maybe the Weyrwoman just got well 'n' truly fed up this time."
Rummage, rummage, rummage. Krummolt stays missing and doesn't call for help with any dead bodies.
Deni's eyes grow wide at the last suggestion out of Jhairecki's mouth. "You think-- she may've -- murder? I dunno. The way Chey's been lately, I wouldn't put it past her." Her voice has gone to a whisper now, eyes flinching around to make sure that no one else is about to hear what she says. "Who knows. With how much she's been drinking lately, it could've been any sort of way. 'Least the dragons have stopped keening... That was..." Her face flinches. Painful to listen to, obviously.
Jhairecki's shrug is noncommittal at best: maybe she did, maybe not. He doesn't know. "Which one of them?" he does ask, his mouth twisting wryly as she mentions drinking. And the keening? Best left not even mentioned, though it makes even him shudder. "S'pose she coulda just taken a fall or something, but..."
Krummolt emerges from the weyr in just a few minutes, his previously empty backpack rather fuller. Not so full, however, that he could be transporting Frusha's body out secretly. "Well, she's not there," he fulfills that much of the recruits' morbid curiosity as he emerges. "Stay here until I get relief sent, or orders to the contrary come down. Don't think there's much there that'll be of interest, but..." He gives a brief shrug. "Carry on, recruits." And he marches away.
"Well, Frusha's the drinker. I don't think Chey drinks.. But I could be wrong." Shifting from one foot to the other, Denalia's curiousity begins to increase rapidly, making her expression turn increasingly more sour. "Uuugggh, what's taking him so long? Must be a lot going on in there, i--" And then there's Krummolt, to which she instantly pulls back and into a salute when he appears. "I-- Yes sir," is muttered as her eyes drift to his bag. They continue to gaze there as he moves away, but, she says nothing, only clenches her teeth. "No news, no nothing. This is fantastic." Sarcasm, activate!
Jhairecki coughs, so delicately too. "Maybe just a little bit." And he holds his thumb and forefinger up, just an inch apart. Only that wrong, really. His hands drop quickly, too, however, when Krummolt re-emerges. He mimics Denalia's salute as their boss leaves, then relaxes again, lip curling with his distaste. "Could go look around now, though."
Ceiri comes in at what would roughly be between a run and a trot, looking a bit out of breath. "Krummolt?" she asks, looking back and forth between the occupants. She's clearly calmer than some of the riders that have been seen. "Weyrwoman Chey...." She pauses, "She sent me here."
The guard headquarters is buzzing, though most of the guardsmen seem to have only questions, rather than any answers to them. The draconic keening outside is audible, but difficult to comprehend for non-riders. Krummolt emerges from the captain's office, still in the process of buckling his belt, in time to catch his name and the Weyrwoman's name. "I'm Captain Krummolt," he says, using a strong voice to cut through the chatter. "What did the Weyrwoman say?"
Ceiri pushes her hair back in agitation. "Frusha. She's gone. Or... her dragon is. They're keening." She takes a breath. "The Weyrwoman told me to have you go check Frusha's weyr. To.. make sure there's nothing there. And.. I think she wants a guard put on it, so nobody goes in. She said two men."
Though not asleep like Denalia, Jhairecki still flinches upright from where he's collapsed on his bunk in his few moments' rest. The keening has his attention, eyes flicking to the door and then Denalia when she and those firelizards raise their own racket. He automatically tips his head toward Krummolt at the new arrival's question, even as the captain is already turning to her. Jhairecki, for his part, sits up, leaning too nonchalantly against his headboard to eavesdrop.
Denalia isn't quite saluting, but is at full attention as she sidles up behind Krummolt, listening to Ceiri carefully -- which is hard over the rabble of the barracks around them. "F-- She's dead!" The girl is neither releaved nor depressed... just ultimately surprised. "I saw /that/ one coming." Okay, no she didn't... But she likes to think she was prepared. "Still.. I can't.. Can't believe it," is hushed under her breath as she begins to ruffle her hair in unease.
A short, sharp, heartfelt curse comes from the captain as he stops in place for a minute, staring at Ceiri as he attemps to digest the news. "Gone," he repeats. Abruptly, his eyebrows draw together and he whirls around with an air of recovered decisive command. "Guards! Heightened alert this sevenday at least! Expect time and a half to help keep order! You, and you!" He points at Jhairecki and Denalia, who happen to be close enough and standing to be convenient. "Come with me to stand guard on Frusha's weyr! You!" He turns back to Ceiri. "Go tell the Weyrwoman I'm on it, and I'll be up to help her however she needs."
Ceiri looks between the guards, chewing on her lower lip and hugging thin arms to herself in tension. She nods to Krummolt and takes a step back to get out of their way as the gear up, as well. "I will. I'll let her know. Thank you." Who knows who she's giving thanks for. Maybe in general.
Him? What? He didn't sign u--oh, wait. Yes he did. Jhairecki's expression is somewhere between crestfallen (he's with Denalia and Krummolt?) and curious (at least it's the ground floor of the scandal). He's up in a moment, joining the others with a snappy little salute, such a dutiful little guard.
Denalia hops into attention again, saluting, with an icy, "Yes sir!" tacked on the end. A stiff glance is sent back at Jhairecki as she waves for him to get moving -- she's just so insistent -- before she finishes lacing up her right boot and tosses on her lighter jacket. "Ready whenever you are, sir," is her last little pipe before she furrows her brow against the worries in her mind. One gold left. That can't be good, at all.
Krummolt hesitates a moment, then grabs an empty pack. "Follow me," he orders the recruits. As he passes the desk sergeant, he orders, "Extra patrols all day. Start organizing it." And then he strides out of the barracks, making for Frusha's weyr, near the ground weyrs.
Krummolt leads the way to the entrance to Frusha's weyr and stops there. "You two...stay here. No one but me, Il'ad, Chey or T'ii in and out. I'm going to do a survey. Stay here unless I call you." He pauses a minute, then notes, "Once I've made a pass through, I'll probably send full guardsmen to relieve you." And he turns to go inside.
"Yes sir!" Denalia quips as quick as she's ordered, but a bit of disgruntlement shows on her face as Krummolt states they aren't allowed in. Bugger. She never gets to do anything interesting! "But-- Let us know if you need anything else, sir."
"Yes, sir," Jhairecki echoes Denalia, albeit less peppily as he stops just outside the door himself. He glances over at his companion recruit, brows arching at her eagerness, but with Krummolt entering, Jhairecki quickly looks back to him to watch that. And peer inside much as he can, with somewhat less attention on who might be coming up their way.
Krummolt lifts a departing hand to acknowledge Denalia. "Definitely," he says, then disappears inside. It is quiet, but for some rummaging noises.
"Do you think she's in there.. dead?" The girl gets it out right off the bat, trying to peer in along with her fellow recruit. "The dragons suicide when their rider dies... Maybe she wasn't on Griellitath at all. I wonder what they'll do if she is. Bet she's start stinking if they don't figure out somethin' soon. I've never had to deal with dead bodies before." There she goes rambling -- but, considering how uneasy and tense she is at the moment, it has nothing to do with the fact she actually /wants/ to say anything.
"Always burned 'em, before," says Jhairecki idly, mouth pursing as he peers inside, then slants a glance over at Denalia again. "Never dealt with dead people, a guard," he wonders, but moves on with a lift of his shoulders. His voice is lowered slightly. "Figure she offed herself, one way or another--or maybe the Weyrwoman just got well 'n' truly fed up this time."
Rummage, rummage, rummage. Krummolt stays missing and doesn't call for help with any dead bodies.
Deni's eyes grow wide at the last suggestion out of Jhairecki's mouth. "You think-- she may've -- murder? I dunno. The way Chey's been lately, I wouldn't put it past her." Her voice has gone to a whisper now, eyes flinching around to make sure that no one else is about to hear what she says. "Who knows. With how much she's been drinking lately, it could've been any sort of way. 'Least the dragons have stopped keening... That was..." Her face flinches. Painful to listen to, obviously.
Jhairecki's shrug is noncommittal at best: maybe she did, maybe not. He doesn't know. "Which one of them?" he does ask, his mouth twisting wryly as she mentions drinking. And the keening? Best left not even mentioned, though it makes even him shudder. "S'pose she coulda just taken a fall or something, but..."
Krummolt emerges from the weyr in just a few minutes, his previously empty backpack rather fuller. Not so full, however, that he could be transporting Frusha's body out secretly. "Well, she's not there," he fulfills that much of the recruits' morbid curiosity as he emerges. "Stay here until I get relief sent, or orders to the contrary come down. Don't think there's much there that'll be of interest, but..." He gives a brief shrug. "Carry on, recruits." And he marches away.
"Well, Frusha's the drinker. I don't think Chey drinks.. But I could be wrong." Shifting from one foot to the other, Denalia's curiousity begins to increase rapidly, making her expression turn increasingly more sour. "Uuugggh, what's taking him so long? Must be a lot going on in there, i--" And then there's Krummolt, to which she instantly pulls back and into a salute when he appears. "I-- Yes sir," is muttered as her eyes drift to his bag. They continue to gaze there as he moves away, but, she says nothing, only clenches her teeth. "No news, no nothing. This is fantastic." Sarcasm, activate!
Jhairecki coughs, so delicately too. "Maybe just a little bit." And he holds his thumb and forefinger up, just an inch apart. Only that wrong, really. His hands drop quickly, too, however, when Krummolt re-emerges. He mimics Denalia's salute as their boss leaves, then relaxes again, lip curling with his distaste. "Could go look around now, though."