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Author Topic: Event Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event  (Read 4597 times)

Offline NPC Account

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Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« on: April 20, 2017, 04:46:08 PM »
Of the things the Weavers had expected that day, a visit from a grinning Mountain rider was not one of them. Even less so with such news that had the Crafters in their makeshift hall scrambling to organize, to make space, to snag helpers…

It had been so, so many turns since anyone had even been to Southern Boll, much less the Weaver Hall there, that no one had really expected to find anything. Certainly not the veritable wealth of materials and tools that had been left behind—from the Mountain rider’s description, there were dye vats, looms, spindles, even some records they hadn’t touched for fear of damaging them. Not to mention the personal effects that had apparently gotten left behind in the rush to leave the area when the Hold closed, which meant even more potential needles, thimbles, even maybe cloth if it hadn’t gotten eaten through by pests or time.

With almost all the Crafter caves so close to one another, the commotion didn’t go unnoticed for long. A fact which some apprentices from other Halls might find annoying, since ultimately a few conversations between Weavers and other Masters eventually had them ushering their apprentices over to the Weavers’ section to assist. And the place got even more crowded when, a few minutes later, word reached the Candidate Master—who sent his unoccupied students over as well.

The simultaneously arriving apprentices and Candidates ended up under the shepherding eye of one of the senior Weavers. Roughly, they were divided into two groups. “You lot stay here and help carry and sort things as they arrive. The rest of you, there are Mountain riders in the Bowl waiting for you to help them at the Hall.”

Spoiler for OOC:
An event! 8D We left it rather open ended to allow for maximum participation without constraining you too much. Whichever group you want your apprentice or Candidate to be part of is up to you. Crafters from other Halls are also more than welcome to stop by—and curious observers, though they may be shooed off in short order so that the caves don’t end up too cramped. As always, you can also check in with your characters in the OOC thread.
« Last Edit: September 05, 2018, 01:57:08 PM by NPC Account »
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Offline Colvin

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #1 on: April 20, 2017, 08:29:58 PM »
Colvin was settled into the common area of the Barracks, leaning back in a chair, feet up on the desk as he plucked absently at his lute. Vic was curled up in his lap, the rift between him and the blue flit all but forgotten after their little make up session post-Riot. Basically Cole did what he did best and didn’t talk about what Vic had done and Vic was just happy to be back with him with no more threats of being drowned.

He glanced up as O’sir came in and got the Candidates’ attention. Another chore. Great. But as the Candidate Master talked and explained what was happened, Cole felt the tingle of true excitement in his stomach. Mountain Wing was going to the Weaver Hall. There were records. (Part of his brain also registered the word “needles” in the rattling of supplies O’sir said the Mountain Riders were hoping to bring back.) But what caught Colvin’s attention most of all was the words “Southern Boll Hold.”

All of Cole’s life had been confined to Fort Hold and now this sharding Weyr.  Other than a few times of Niema taking him to the mainland to one of the deserted beaches, he’d never actually been anywhere else on Pern. In that all-consuming way Cole had, he now needed to go to Southern Boll. He needed to see it.

His boots hit the ground only a second before the front two legs of his chair did and before the sound of the legs hitting the floor even faded he was up and moving. Vic trilled in surprise as he was unceremoniously dumped from Cole’s lap, barely managing to flap his wings in time to not be the third thump on the floor following Cole’s boots and the legs of the chair. He put his lute away and grabbed a jacket as he moved with decided determination to get to the Weyrbowl.

One of the senior Weavers was shepherding the gathering crowd into groups, one to go and one to stay. As the Weaver pointed to him and motioned towards the group that was staying and then pointed to another Candidate near him and pointed to the group going, Colvin acted immediately, shoving the other Candidate towards the group that would remain and making a beeline towards the dragon riders. The Weaver sorting people didn’t seem to care, as long as a body went to Mountain and a body stayed here.

Cole didn’t know many of the Mountain Riders and so he hung back, appraising the group and trying to pick out which one would be the easiest to work with and the least likely to be on his ass the whole time.

All power play by Rezerai and Virilise is allowed

Offline Calladren

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #2 on: April 21, 2017, 05:11:57 AM »
It had been a hard day of chores for Calladren, as he had been assigned to the herdsmen for the day. They were his least favorite group of people to work with; they smelled bad, a large number of them were Keroonian, whose accents were grating, and he could never slack off around them. So, when the sixteenth mark on the candle started to melt, Calladren was more than ready to find his way back to the barracks.

He had bathed and dressed, and was idly lounging in his cot, thinking of girls and listening to Colvin pluck at his lute. It still saddened the boy that he and Colvin were not on good terms at the moment. However, his musing was broken by O'sir, when the Candidate Master came in and started explaining about the Weaver's stuff. Calladren didn't listen too much after he heard stuff about "going to the Northern Continent." Just as Colvin did, Calladren all but leaped from his cot, grabbed his wherhide jacket and bolted for the door. Octave chirped a happy trill and flapped after his bonded.

Calladren made it to the Senior Weaver who was directing the voluntold workers where to go, and unlike his older counterpart, Calladren was actually selected to go with the Mountain Wingriders to Southern Boll. With a grin, he scampered off towards the waiting riders and threw his jacket on. With another happy trill, Octave settled on Cal's shoulder, eyes whirling rapidly with blues and greens. Calldren stopped at the edge of the group and looked about. He stood to Colvin's right and leaned over to the older Candidate. "This should be interesting. I've never seen anything of the Northern Continent other than Fort Weyr and Fort Hold." Calladren thought to himself, Maybe, just maybe, I can get Cole to open back up to me with this excursion.

Offline Ysveta

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #3 on: April 21, 2017, 05:23:47 AM »
Ysveta had been composing when O'sir had arrived. In her head of course, she wouldn't ask the Harpers for a slate until she had ironed out all the kinks in her head. It simply saved time, for both herself, and whichever Harper got to examine it when she handed it back.

It had been a quiet afternoon, she had kept to herself, in her own room, avoiding the common area where the other candidates would be loud and obnoxious, and where firelizards couldn't sing along to her humming of the melody, and each subsequent harmony part as she built up the score. It wasn't anything against them persay, but she definitely could not work with all the distractions and besides Ysveta was always much happier alone.

However, when O'sir came in and expressed his wish that all those unoccupied go help the Weavers with a new delivery from the Weaver Hall, Ysveta was as eager as the rest. Whether or not she actually got to go flying with Mountain Wing, she wasn't completely sure, but the task would at least be interesting. Supplies from the continent, records, equipment we didn't have here.

Ysveta wasn't a Weaver, but that didn't mean she wasn't interested.

The usually more reserved candidate couldn't help the grin that spread across her face when she was on the cusp of the group that was waved towards Mountain Wing, and she eagerly made her way out into the Weyr bowl, not bothering to stick with the group, but immediately approaching a Mountain Rider with a more reserved smile, and a respectful nod to their dragon.

Spoiler for Hidden:
@Lyndi If someone's already poked you about threading with N'iko that's cool, just thought I'd try my chances  :love:
« Last Edit: April 21, 2017, 06:36:31 AM by Ysveta »

Has a scar from jaw to hairline across her left cheek, obtained in Kalestath's hatching of 2590.

Offline Karou

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #4 on: April 21, 2017, 11:06:54 AM »
Karou was playing dice with some of the other Candidates in the common room when O’sir walked in. Her group was one of the last to realize what was happening and to finally quiet down from their laughter and raucousness to listen to the Candidate Master. Finally though they were hushed and Karou moved the dice around in her hands as O’sir spoke, the speed of the dice picking up as her excitement did. An expedition to the old Weaver Hall! New supplies! Her curiosity was sufficiently stoked and like many of her fellow classmates she was quick to get her butt into gear and gather what she needed before heading out into the Weyrbowl. This was new and exciting and far better than their normal daily chores before dinner.

Never much of an eater, Karou didn’t even care if they ended up working through dinner, this was far more interesting than whatever fish and mushroom ickiness the kitchen was serving up….again. Fish. Always fish.

The chatter was hushed but excited as they all made their way outside. It was controlled chaos in the Weyrbowl, people being directed all over the place. One of the Weavers pointed at her and motioned to the Mountain Wing dragons but before she could go there a shard shove had her stumbling in the opposite direction. “Hey!” She protested once she’d regained her balance, glancing around looking for the perpetrator. But Colvin was already gone, a single mindedness driving him towards the dragons.

“Stupid boys.” She muttered. It was okay though. Karou didn’t mind staying behind and letting some of the other Candidates get to fly off to the main land. She’d be able to fly all she wanted once she Impressed! And anyways, she rather liked organizing supplies and it had been one of her main tasks as a new apprentice in the Healer Hall. So she joined the group that would be assisting the Weavers here in the Weyr, glancing around the crowd for anyone she knew.

Belior and Timor popped out from Between near her head. Belior trilling in an excited greeting as if he hadn’t just seen Karou in the barracks. “You two can stay so long as you behave and stay out of the way.” She warned them.

Offline Oarlen

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #5 on: April 21, 2017, 06:14:30 PM »
With all his chores completed earlier in the day, and no physical training to require a good long soak in the heat of the baths, Oarlen was spending the two hours before dinner working on training Freckles, Sweets and Canopy to pay attention to him despite the various noise surrounding them. The flitters in question had so far managed to sit on the ground in front of him, though only Freckles was giving him his full attention. Canopy, eyes whirling angrily was focused on a gold flit that was perched nearby, Screeching horribly whenever she looked her way, while Sweets, in a much more peaceful mood, was paying more attention to the game of dice occurring nearby than his bonded.

The appearance of the Candidate Master did what Oarlen had not yet managed to do, causing all three Fire Lizards to turn their heads to watch O’sir. Freckles was chirruping excitedly, picking up on the growing excitement in the room, and more than once Oarlen had to give him a mental shove to keep quiet. Between that and the laughter that took much to long to quiet over at the dice table, it was only when the candidates started scrabbling to leave the barracks that Oarlen realised what was happening.

“Quickly guys, we need to move!” he whispered urgently to his flits, standing up and holding his arms away from his body as Sweets and Freckles rushed to comply. Freckles winding his way around Oarlen’s left arm, upper body clinging to his shoulder and head resting on his collarbone while Sweets did the same to his right. The two boys flattening themselves as much as possible so they looked like incredibly lifelike ornamentation. Canopy took to the air at once, hissing at a few flits that got a little close before hovering around Oarlen’s head, waiting for him to follow the rest of the candidates. The brown firelizard was chittering softly in his excitement, though the other two remained (mostly silent) as the boy and his ‘lizards moved quickly to join the others.

Oarlen’s face fell as they got to the Weaver Caves, hearing that some of the candidates had been selected to go back to the weyrbowl to meet with the riders stationed there. They would be flying to Southern Boll to help there, while everyone else would be staying to help sort the goods they brought back. Despite the group still being divided up, Oarlen held little hope that he would get to go flying today, and while more than happy to do the work, it was with a heavy heart that he looked at the Master Weaver doing the sorting.

When he directed him over to the group joining the weyrbowl, Oarlen was elated, scampering off before they could change their mind and only catching a glimpse of Colvin shoving Karou aside to join the others heading to the ‘bowl. “Sorry about Colvin, Karou” he said hhurriedlyas he scampered to follow the older boy. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”

It didn’t occur to the boy that Karou might not want Colvin to remain a candidate, and subsequently impress a dragon at a future clutch. As far as Oarlen was concerned, noone really wanted Colvin booted out of candidacy. He was an annoying loudmouth but that wasn’t really an issue, right? Either way, he had taken it upon himself since the Riot to do his best to keep Colvin out of trouble as much as possible. When they had chores together Oarlen made sure that the job was done even if that meant doing the other Candidate’s work for him. He owed Colvin a lot. And every bit of assistance was useful, even if Colvin didn’t quite see it that way.

He was a little uncertain as he saw Colvin with another candidate, Calladren, not entirely sure if he was the best influence for the impulsive young man. Giving his flits a gentle reminder to keep quiet and not get in anyone’s way, however, Oarlen moved forward, standing behind the two older boys and piping up with “Hiya Colvin, hiya Calladren! A dragonride beats hanging around in the common room any day, dontcha think?”

Spoiler for ooc:
@Kit – Hope my assumptions about Cole are alright. I can change them if needbe


Offline Lokin

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #6 on: April 21, 2017, 06:48:00 PM »
A voice caught Lokin's attention. She'd spent most of the day working hard with the Harper Hall. She'd heard, all day, about the Weaver Hall. Apparently one of the Masters, her Aunt, was excited to go, but was waiting for her weyrmate to go and help out. Lokin, how ever, had returned to the candidate area to change clothes (it was amazing how sweaty one could get when they were busy carrying things and getting space ready for any records incoming), and feed her flits, who had helped when they could.

O'sir's 'suggestion' was easy for her to follow, and her feet quickly carried her out to where she saw most of Mountain Wing waiting. She smiled as she saw them. There was no way you couldn't smile at the people moving around her, past her and behind her. The energy was high. Lokin could almost hear the music, but she easy found a free dragon, and moved towards it's rider, curious as she found her voice.

"Excuse me, may I go with you? I'd love to help."

The little gold and brown flits popped into existance just behind her, blasting her with some cold air before the queen alited on Lokin and wrapped herself around the slim girl. The brown moved closer to the dragon, as if curious.

Spoiler for Hidden:
If anyone wants to bother Lokin, this is your chance! :D

Offline B'lye

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #7 on: April 22, 2017, 03:02:10 AM »
Today was the second time in as many months that B’lye was swept up in the events of the weyr to the point of giddiness. No one could say B’lye wasn’t an excitable man, but he was usually very much in control of his emotions and actions. However, today, just like the day one of his wingmates became the new Weyrsecond, he found himself practically bouncing in his seat in an attempt to rid himself of the excited energy this amazing discovery had caused.

It didn’t help that he was surrounded by other equally excitable people all asking questions and vying for a place on the back of the Mountain Wing dragons. Or maybe it did, it was far easier to keep himself in line knowing he had to be the base for the Mountain Riders and Weavers alike, and had to do his Wing proud. Didn’t stop him from grinning like a well-fed Hunter the entire time he set up his slates to take down notes of everything coming in and everyone going out of the Weyr on Mountain dragonback today.

Uereth had, much to both of their chagrin, figured it was better if she’d stayed in their weyr while people were bustling in and out, but was sitting much closer to her ledge than usual so she could see her rider where he sat at the edge of the Bowl. Like the voice of reason, she figured having a stray dragon hanging around would only confuse folks all milling around to help and after dropping him off on the ground, returned to their weyr. But it irked them both that she couldn’t join in the fun. Even if the ‘fun’ was just sitting by B’lye as he took notes, because she most definitely wasn’t in the mood to Between all the way to Southern, with extra weight, back and forth, all day.

B’lye tried to answer any questions fired at him eloquently without his usual sarcasm or innuendo. He was used to fielding questions so he didn’t find it hard to set up and talk at the same time, especially because it was mostly ‘yes, we found stuff’, ‘wait over there for further instructions’, ‘it shouldn’t be long now’.

Once he was set up and comfortable, he found it a little harder to answer questions, he had nothing to occupy his mind as he waited for the first incoming wave of his Wingmates, or even W’sar just to come along and give him extra instructions. He’d long ago sent Axander, the most intelligent of his flits, to see his mother to let her know he would be by the Bowl if she needed him, and the Bronze flit would stay with her in the event that she needed to send a message, he didn’t want her to use hers when it was imperative she keep in contact with the other Masters that day, and she might have other uses for her own little Green.

His other three sat around him at attention, ready to be sent off to whoever needed to be updated that day. They’d returned from when he’d sent off his Brown to W’sar, to let him know where he was, and his Blues to the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader just so they knew who was there to take notes for the Riders. It mightn’t have been necessary, but the Senior Weyrwoman was anything but inefficient and he considered it basic respect to let her know the goings on.

Wishing more people would come up to him with some more in depth questions to preoccupy him, or that his Wingmates would hurry up and collect people and return with their prize, or that anything really would happen, B’lye tapped his leg on the ground in an attempt to release some of his nervous energy.

Offline Pythia

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #8 on: April 22, 2017, 08:50:50 AM »
Miravith may have been a green, and smaller than Mountain's other two greens at that, but she was still a dragon. She could still carry cargo at the least, and one extra person besides her rider without issue, and so she was going to firmly and vociferously insist on doing so. Just to Pythia; she had no need to do that with the other Mountain dragons, as her Wingleader and 'seconds weren't trying to discourage her. Her rider, on the other hand, was not being less curmudgeonly than usual.

They were recalled, interrupted from what little task they had been working on, but she'd been extremely interested in seeing the Weaver ruins anyway. Mostly because Southern Boll was another Hold that had once been prosperous, and it appealed to her nature of wanting to explore abandoned places. (Whether that was something that had always been an innate factor of her being that she hadn't known about before being tapped to Mountain, or whether the Wing had cultivated it, was going to remain a mystery.) Pythia was therefore entirely satisfied with the course of events except for the fact that it made sense that the Candidates and apprentices attach themselves to riders for, well, rides and general supervision.

Which meant she had to deal with an individual person.

Sometimes she couriered other people around, and there were a few she got along with okay – Penderton, for instance, came to mind, and someday she'd probably take Sevastjan somewhere interesting as well – but candidates and apprentices didn't as classes of human beings exactly appeal. It didn't stop her from sticking to Miravith's foreleg and attempting a neutral expression; she wasn't about to put anyone off, she just wasn't sure how well she was going to do with the communicating aspect of this particular errand.

Pythia's excitement about the endeavor in general shone through, though, and it made her look substantially more approachable than her normal.

There were going to be things to collect, and maybe the Weavers wouldn't mind (or notice) if she kept a couple trinkets for her weyr.

When a Candidate showed interest in them as a convenient ride, it was of course Miravith who got into displaying mutual interest first; Lokin's brown firelizard was inquisitive enough to attract her attention, and she offered an exhale of warm dragon-nose-air toward his face in greeting. It was all Pythia could do not to roll her eyes; she knew it'd come off as rude if she did. It would look like it was aimed at Lokin, even if really it was all Miravith.

"If you don't get motion sick," she told the candidate with the faintest hint of smile, "You're welcome to it."

Spoiler for OOC:
@RavenFlame I belatedly noticed that Lokin hadn't a ride yet, so I edited my post to include her, hi~
« Last Edit: April 22, 2017, 09:54:43 AM by Pythia »

Offline Lokin

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #9 on: April 22, 2017, 02:07:02 PM »
The young woman looked up at the green dragon as her brown flit rode the wave of air for a moment, and then, squeaking with excitement, moved much closer, attempting to breath back, and sending mostly colors at the green. Lots of blues, as he always associated happiness with blue, and plenty of excited bright greens, making sure to make it clear he was praising the beautiful green's colors. Lokin felt all of the excitement from her flit, and eyed him a moment, but his sister, and queen, didn't even respond, more interested in the human, her little head lifting, and her claws leaving small red marks on Lokin's collarbone as she trilled softly at the woman before them.

Lokin found herself getting drawn along with her flit's emotions. Between the two of them she was excited to do really anything. Secretly, Lokin was full of emotions, but she managed to show an even keel.

"Never got motionsick before. I'm Lokin."

Lokin wasn't sure what her title would be. Technically she was a candidate, but she still was drawn to her harper roots. No doubt if she aged out (or left) she'd go back to Harper Hall and follow in her aunt's footsteps. That was acceptable in her opinion. She held out a hand, glad she'd grabbed her coat, knowing it would be cold. She'd arrived here on her cousin's dragon, a bronze. And it had been freezing. The little brown flew closer, and sent a quick image of him on the dragon's claw, asking, gently. He liked greens. They were sweet, and friendly, and any friends he could make, Kelix would.
Spoiler for Hidden:
@Aster Thank you! :D

Offline Berlya

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #10 on: April 23, 2017, 06:55:34 PM »
One of the few things Berlya was perfectly in tune to was her sons wingmates, particularly when they decided to pay a visit to their makeshift hall. It was often met with a sinking feeling in the pit of her belly in those first few moments before their business was made clear. She had dealt with enough loss in the past not to let it shape her day to day duties, however the chance that today’s visit may have been news of the untimely death of her last living son always got her heart beating just that little bit faster.

That is, until she took note of the silly grin plastered all over this particular rider’s face. Lips pursed as to what would constitute an interruption she listened carefully to what was said, her features relaxing as she took in just what the news would mean. Unlike many of her peers, Berlya remained calm, though she understood entirely the implications of such a find. She found herself standing, looking only to the Craftmaster for an indication as to what he wanted her to do before moving on to assist in bringing some organisation to the commotion.

She was not much use with finding space for the hoard that they hoped to find, far too slow moving to be anything but a nuisance. She was, however, efficient, and when the simultaneously arriving apprentices and candidates were sorted by another of the masters, she settled herself in a seat close to the group that remained, ready to assist in the initial sorting of materials and supplies that may come through. Stacking shelves and finding space for the larger items would be a task she left to others. But she was more than happy to oversee the apprentices and candidates as they worked, if only to ensure that items weren’t stacked together just because they looked the same. The more sorting that happened here, the easier it would be for everyone else in the long run.

As she settled herself into her seat, Dreamer made her way to her lap, claws anchoring her to the woman’s skirts, joined quickly by the Bronze Flit that had appeared barely a heartbeat after the mountain rider had offered his news. She offered a short greeting to Axander, understanding easily enough what B’lye had tasked him to do, and allowed him to station himself on her lap a little way away from Dreamer, standing guard as much as the comparatively larger flit could. It was not unusual for B’lye to send her his bronze when they may need to keep in touch, and so Berlya would have no trouble using him to get messages through to the others in the weyr should she need to, considering the flit could between and back quicker than she could walk.

With nothing else for her to do until the first of the riders returned, Berlya, warmed by the heat of the two ‘lizards on her legs, watched the group that were currently milling about, waiting, just as she was. When the first group came back, she would have a better idea of how to organise everyone, but for now they were stuck just waiting, anticipation for what goods the group that were heading to Southern Boll would find.

Offline Tiynnalacia

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #11 on: April 24, 2017, 08:01:20 PM »
Tiy was in the kitchens helping clean some of the soup vats after the leftovers had been moved over and stored after the midday meal. She hadn’t slept all too well last night, and unlike normal, she was relishing the afternoon off to go and have a lie down. At least, until her youngest sister ran in to grab her. Without pause or breath, her sister, with eyes the size of dinner plates, told her the riders were bringing stuff over from the old Weaver Hall and they were asking people to help offload.

The muscular ex-peacekeeper smiled in spite of herself at her sister’s enthusiasm. Rolling her eyes at the young woman who was bouncing on the spot, she’d already consigned herself to go help before her sister had finished speaking. With only slight regret that her relaxed afternoon had been disrupted, she couldn’t help the excitement for the Weavers and her sisters. Rising from her crouch and folding the cloth she’d been using to dry the excess cleaning water out of the vat before placing it neatly on a shelf off to the side, she let her sister pull her at a half run down the corridors to where the excited people had gathered.

Tiy had no desire to fly dragonback again, she was happy to keep her feet on the ground and haul items around the hall for the Weavers. Finding a place out of the way, she leant back against the wall and crossed her arms to wait, still listening to her youngest sister chatter away about the rider who had turned up to let them know what had happened. Her sister only paused to breath as she looked around with a frown on her face, “where’s Tiynnalsk? Didn’t he follow you from the kitchens?”

With a soft chuckle, Tiynnalacia tried to imagine her hulking bronze in such a tight space with so many people, “you know people don’t like him in the kitchens, and I think it might be best if he’s kept away from the sharp needles of the Weavers, and the delicate materials, and the boiling pools, and the over excited kids. I think that’s a disaster waiting to happen, and he’s happy to sit at home for a while.”

Offline X'rine

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #12 on: April 24, 2017, 10:12:23 PM »
X'rine jumped down from Tocath's back, slapping her hand against her thigh to rid her brown pants of the layer of dust upon them. It was hard to get around the main continent without getting dusty, let alone the Weaver Hall which had been abandoned for so long.

She had been mighty pleased when she had heard word this morning. It was always pleasant to discover a veritable treasure trove of equipment, when you were only expecting an armful of salvageable goods. Having been called in from her latest assignment to help with the collection of supplies, X'rine breathed in the sweet smell of the Jungle and the cooking of the Weyr, before checking Tocath's straps and attached carrysacks to make sure everything was okay.

Looking around at the bustle of weavers and candidates and apprentice crafters she couldn't help but feel a little excited for what they would be able to bring back. Trouvaille sat perched on Tocath's shoulder, pointedly ignoring the hustle and bustle, if they could just get back up into the air again and get on with their work, the little green would be happy, she wanted to explore the Weaver Hall as much as anyone.

Perhaps the day would reveal some interesting views, which X'rine could catalogue in her mind for sketching later on that night, test out some of her skills with some new faces, or work on her still life.

Let's pick a candidate or two and head there. Her brown said simply, the Weyrbowl was even busier than usual today, and the brown was getting a little antsy, he'd be much more comfortable once they got into the air and away from all this noise.

Will do.

"Alright, I need two passengers over here." She waved a hand at the crowd, not fast or overexcited, just enough that if someone looked up at her words, they would see her arm over the swathe of heads. Tocath would definitely be able to handle three extra passengers, and even 4 without the rest of his cargo, but there were enough Mountain Riders to go around, X'rine would just be able to fill up his sacks a lot more now.

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Offline N'iko

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #13 on: April 25, 2017, 05:57:42 AM »
The Weyr Bowl was buzzing with excitement as the Mountain riders offloaded the few odds and ends they had been able to collect from the Weaver Hall at Southern Boll. So, it was no surprise when others began to crowd in for the chance to see what was going on. Even candidates began piling in, likely being put on assignment as soon as word reached the Candidate Master that Mountain Wing would be returning to gather as much as they could to bring back.

The sudden excess number of people—even in a place as large and open as the Bowl—had the Mountain rider feeling overheated. The amount of people between the weavers, those helping sort the Wing’s first load and those lining up to help Mountain with future loads was stifling. N’iko excused himself from the weaver he’d been speaking with and returned to Astaroth. He breathed a bit easier with some distance between himself and the crowd and would have stripped his riding jacket off to help with the heat if he wasn’t about to go between shortly.

The carry sacks he’d tied to the bronze had been enough for a sampling of what the abandoned Hall had to offer, but he would need more if he wanted their trips to be more useful. He worked to add more sacks and bags and strapped them in on both sides of the bronze until there was no more room. All that remained was to collect a couple of helpers to more quickly and effectively fill the sacks. He didn’t particularly mind the company of one or two to help him out. He could fit more, but he’d packed Astaroth so full that by the time the bags were filled, it would even encroach on sitting space.

Besides, there were enough Mountain riders to handle the line of candidates who seemed ready to help them. The rest of the candidates were already working with the weavers on sorting through the supplies and would be staying behind. Two would do. “Drakon, pick out two candidates and bring them over.” The brown flit, who had been perched at attention on Astaroth’s riding straps, took off toward the line of candidates. He trilled at one of them who had a blue flit on his shoulder, as if to say “Let’s go!”, then moved down the line to tug at a female candidate.

Once he had ensured the two were following him—persuading as needed to herd the two young humans to his bonded—he landed at the forefront of the riding straps on Astaroth, mission completed. N’iko smiled as he watched Drakon’s choices approach. “Alright, let’s load up on this bronze and get going.” He stood at the ready by Astaroth’s leg to help either of them if they needed assistance or balance to climb up. “What’re your names?”

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Offline Ysveta

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #14 on: April 25, 2017, 08:16:56 AM »
Before Ysveta could reach the rider that she had been heading towards, however, she was ushered in a different direction by a brown firelizard. Having heard of the working flits of Mountain Wing, Ysveta dutifully followed, noticing that Calladren had been brought away from the line of candidates before the brown had come for her.

She mostly ignored the other candidate, not pointedly or maliciously, just preferring to look around her and watch the preparations that were underway. Ysveta took a glance over her shoulder, hoping that the detour hadn’t been noticed by the previous rider, she wouldn’t want to offend anyone. But it seems she had escaped with minimal awkwardness, for now.

So instead, Ysveta repeated her respectful nod to the bronze dragon, and had a reserved smile for his rider when she got to both of them.

“I’m Ysveta.” She said, taking the offer of help from him. Sure, she had been on a dragon a few times before, but she wasn’t too proud to not take the offer of help, when the alternative was potentially falling on her ass in front of everyone.

Settling herself on the bronze's back, she sat, tapping her hands on her thigh, the rhythm to a pulsating tune in her head, a full orchestral accompaniment, it seemed only fitting for such an exciting occasion.

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Offline T'ghen

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #15 on: April 26, 2017, 12:45:57 PM »
Taeghen hadn’t actually been in the Barracks to hear the announcement made by the Candidate Master. As he did on most days, he’d instead ensconced himself in the Harper Hall that had once been his domain, working on the seemingly never-ending project of preserving and rebinding old books. While he might not properly be a Printer nor a Harper anymore, more often than not Taeghen ended up doing his chores with them anyway. With so few people in the weyr who even knew the first thing about the work he’d done, he still had valuable skills that his former fellow Crafters were reluctant to cast aside.

If anything, it only made his arrogant self-assurance all the stronger. In someone who was louder than Taeghen, or boasted of their accomplishments, it might have been completely insufferable.

In the end, he’d been drawn by the commotion coming from the Weaver caves further down the tunnels. His curiosity was piqued even more when the reason for the racket revealed itself to him, some of the other Harpers chattering excitedly even as they rounded up apprentices to help the Mountain Wingriders with transporting tools and supplies from the abandoned old Hall.

Taeghen was out of his seat almost immediately, darting past the others now crowding the tunnels until he could squeeze into the cavern of the Weaver proper. He arrived just as the flood of Candidates did, but they didn’t necessarily concern him—no, getting the opportunity to go to the old Weaver Hall was the focus of his attention. Especially since it was possible there might be records there that needed to be transported properly in order to minimize the damage done to them.

Tasks were being divvied out quickly, so he had little time to waste. But when he heard a voice requesting passengers for a trip to the Hall, he was quick to step over to the unfamiliar woman in riding leathers. “I’d be glad to join you,” he said, uncharacteristically polite—but this was worth it. “I used to be a Printer, so I know how to handle any records or books that may be found.” Taeghen wanted to make sure that he would get taken. And if the Mountain rider knew of his training, it seemed likely she’d be more willing to have him go with her.

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Sinestath | 10 Months Old | 21.24M Long | 5.34M Tall | 39.6M Wingspan

Offline L'del

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #16 on: April 26, 2017, 12:46:15 PM »
Though he hadn’t made the discovery himself, L’del couldn’t help the sense of pride he felt at his Wingmates’ achievements. This was an important find for the people of Pern—Weavercraft might be one that was commonly overlooked in the grand scheme of things, but their work was as important as any of the other indispensable Crafts. When he was much younger, L’del hadn’t been as aware of just how much work the various Crafts did for whatever weyr they were assigned to. But during his time as a Wingleader and Weyrsecond, that experience had changed his mind.

Tensions might still be tenuous between the Weyrfolk, Crafters, and Holders, but something that benefitted such an important Craft would no doubt have favorable repercussions for them all—just as the planted bamboo now growing in the Weyr Bowl would.

Try to get someone that isn’t too obnoxious, his dragon grumbled as L’del made his way into the Crafter tunnels. The Bronze was less than thrilled at having to carry other passengers; he always disliked ferrying people that weren’t L’del. As far as Indulth was concerned, that was a chore he’d have preferred to leave behind with weyrlinghood.

//Hush.// Despite his Bronze’s complaining, L’del didn’t much care who went with him so long as they did as they were told. It was clear that the Weavers had already divided up which of the Candidates and apprentices would be helping the riders, since he could see his Wingmates pulling some of them away to the Weyr Bowl. Pointing at the two closest, he said simply, “You two. Come with me,” and fully expected them to follow him.

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Indulth | 36M Long | 8M Tall | 63M Wingspan
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Offline Colvin

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #17 on: April 26, 2017, 04:22:38 PM »
Cole glanced over at Calladren when the younger boy stopped beside him and spoke. His face was expressionless and he merely turned back away without so much as a word to Cal. When Oarlen came up on his other side, Cole smirked and with a seemingly decided purposefulness, ruffled Oarlen’s hair in almost a “rub it in” sort of way to Cal. “Hey there Pipsqueak.”

Oarlen wasn’t wrong. A dragonrider certainly did beat--well--anything. As did the thought of getting to explore one of the abandoned Holds. “It’s been close to four decades since anyone has lived there.” He murmured with a muted tone of excitement, a gleam in his eyes that was normally only there when he played music, was flirting with a particularly worthy and interesting girl (or boy), or when he was high.

They didn’t have to wait long. One of the Mountain brown riders singled him out and told him to follow and just in case L’del might have meant Calladren, or just in case there was any confusion, Cole grabbed onto what little piece of Oarlen’s sleeve he could get to underneath the shirt of firelizards he wore.

“C’mon kid, let’s go see it!” They were going to get to see the world. At least far more of it than Cole had ever seen before.

As he followed L’del, he leaned over to whisper not so softly to Oarlen, still holding onto the kid’s shoulder as if he were afraid he lose him again like he had in the riot. “Do you know which one that is?” He asked nodding to L’del. Cole didn’t know many of the Mountain Riders, they weren’t around enough to have Candidates assigned to them very often for chores. He knew riders from Beach and Prairie from chores and from Jungle to know who to avoid, but Mountain was a mystery. Hopefully the guy wasn’t a complete asshole.

All power play by Rezerai and Virilise is allowed

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #18 on: April 28, 2017, 02:02:02 AM »
"Alright then. You'll be useful, I'll let the rest of the wing know that you should take a look at the records if we find any, before we come back with any." She noted the use of 'used to be a printer' and wondered whether that was because he was a candidate, or because the hall was no longer recognised, it had fallen so early in the Pass that the Harpers had instead absorbed them into their ranks fairly quickly.

X'rine gave a final tug on one of Tocath's straps, before swinging herself up his back. "Do you need a hand?" She asked, not holding out her arm, in case the man decided that he had to take it then. She believed that people needed to practice things like these, but if he had never ridden a dragon before, X'rine wouldn't begrudge him the hand up.

Let's just go with this one. If there's another eager when we come back, then we can came them. X'rine thought about that for a moment, knowing that it was Tocath's annoyance at being around to many loud people that was making him antsy, but not wanting to waste any space on him. I'll be quick. "Hey you," she pointed to someone with a weavers apprentice knot on their shoulder. "Jump on up. I'll take you too."

"I'm X'rine, this is Tocath," she said, patting the brown on the shoulder when they were all situated on his back, one after the other, "And that dear is Trouvaille." She added when the green took to the sky and blinked between. "Everyone ready?" X'rine asked, waiting only a moment for them to say something before she urged Tocath up into the sky and blinked between.

They emerged over the Weaver Hall, some of the first of Mountain Wing to arrive, and Tocath fell in a lazy spiral down to the ground.
« Last Edit: April 28, 2017, 02:03:58 AM by X'rine »

Tocath ~ Length 31m ~ Height 6.5m ~ Wingspan 51m

Offline Oarlen

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #19 on: April 28, 2017, 07:08:03 AM »
“Oar-Len. Cole. It’s Oar-Len.” Oarlen retorted, though as usual his heart wasn’t in it. He’d long ago connected the nickname to be a term of endearment from the older candidate and today, of all days, Colvin could call him what he wanted. “Four decades?” He repeated with awe, all the more excited for the prospect of going somewhere so old.

Mountain Wing was filled with sturdier, endurance-specialising dragons. They may not all be the biggest of their colour, but Faranth knew Oarlen had made it his business to know which mountain dragon paired with which rider.  Even the few greens had specific traits that made them incredibly different to other greens. Shards, it was a mountain Brown who had become Imyth’s new partner the past month. So when a bronze rider – A Bronze. Rider. Pointed in their direction Oarlen practically squealed.

He didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t consider that Calladren may have wanted to stick by Colvin.

Didn’t really have a choice when Colvin grabbed the bit of sleeve Sweets hadn’t managed to smother and practically dragged him towards L’del. “Indulth, with L’del” He whispered back hurridly, bowing as they drew closer, once for the rider, and once for the dragon. “Candidate Oarlen with Freckles, Sweets and Canopy to assist.” He said, careful to keep the connection between him and Colvin, in part to try and make Colvin bow with him (Proper respect and what not) but also just because he found his touch comforting.

“This is Colvin and Vic. They’re both real useful.” He continued before uncharacteristically closing his mouth. He had plenty of questions to ask the Mountain Rider. If he ended up impressing a big, sturdy bronze they could end up wingmates after all… And every single Mountain Rider had to have a thousand stories to tell… However there was a serious task to attend to, and with only a minor understanding of the mystery that often surrounded the Mountain Riders (since so few of them remained at the weyr for long enough to find out more), he wanted to wait until he was given his next set of instructions. He was too excited to be riding a dragon once again to focus on drilling L’del on the ins and outs of searching the remnants of Pern.

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Offline T'ghen

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #20 on: May 03, 2017, 11:36:32 AM »
In response to what the woman said, Taeghen just nodded. She’d already accepted his offer to go with her, so there was little else to say as they made their way over to her dragon. A Brown, it turned out, fairly small in length but thick with muscle that Taeghen suspected was a contributing factor to which Wing of which he and his rider were a part.

Once she’d adjusted the Brown’s straps one final time, his rider swung up onto him with practiced ease. Alert and observant, the Candidate in her wake made note of how she did—each rider had their own particular style, which seemed to develop over time depending on their own stature and their dragon’s, no matter that all weyrlings were likely taught the same methods. And, at her question, Taeghen shook his head. “No, thank you.” He had not ridden on dragon back very many times, but once he learned something he rarely forgot it.

Taeghen was confident enough in his abilities that he had no concerns over whether or not he could pull himself up into the straps. Grasp firm and sure, he mirrored what X’rine had done and climbed on behind her.

Making note of the names she supplied, he added, “I’m Taeghen,” and then followed up her question with a quiet, “Yes.”

The feeling of Tocath’s muscles moving under him was one that he would not soon forget. The Brown was the biggest dragon Taeghen had ever ridden, and there was a distinct difference to how he moved compared to smaller Greens or Blues. Or at least, there seemed to be.

He hoped that someday that would be an intricacy he got to experience firsthand.

Since he was expecting it, the cold of Between was not as startling as it might have been. Even so, the chill of it stole some of the breath from his lungs, but that was nothing compared to the wonder of emerging over the long-abandoned Weaver Hall, so close to Southern Boll. The air was distinctly cooler than that of Southern Winds, but less so than somewhere like emerging over old Fort Weyr; after all, Southern Boll, much like Ista and Nerat, had been as close to tropical as any of the Northern Continent ever got.

As Tocath spiraled down toward the ground, Taeghen took in everything he could. After all, this might be one of the few times he would get to see Pern proper, or at the very least for a long time, depending on how long it took him to Impress, to become part of this Wing himself…

It was so… dead. He knew that, of course, because it was common knowledge that almost nothing remained save what they had on their tiny island. But there was a definite difference between being told such a thing and seeing it for himself. The colorless dirt, the dark stones—none of it like the way the place had previously looked, which he knew only from written descriptions in the Harper archives.

Despite himself, he was Impressed with just how much destruction Thread had rained down upon their world.

Sinestath | 10 Months Old | 21.24M Long | 5.34M Tall | 39.6M Wingspan

Offline L'del

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #21 on: May 03, 2017, 11:36:50 AM »
Whatever soft conversation the two Candidates had as they followed him out to the Bowl, L’del didn’t pay it any mind. Unless they directly addressed him or were fucking off while they were supposed to be working, what they said was of little concern to him. Though it did amuse the old Bronzer when the smaller of the two—scarcely into Candidate-hood, if he had to guess—bowed to both himself and Indulth, introducing himself, his flits, and the older Boy as well.

“You’d best be useful,” he said, though there was no heat in it:  maybe even some more amusement, though it was unlikely the Candidates would be able to tell with how dryly he said it. With the sun still bright and hot overhead, L’del led them to where his dragon was sitting on the grass. As pale and metallic as Indulth was, there was no mistaking him for any other color, his hide a faintly weathered gradient of copper and brass. The only truly dark parts about him were his claws. What Threadscore scars he did have were even lighter than the rest of him, and spoke significantly of his age.

“I’m L’del. This is Indulth.” Almost absently, he gestured to the Green and Brown flits coiled around the front part of his saddle, and who were watching the pair of Candidates with vague curiosity. “Tart. Snake.”

He glanced at Oarlen and Colvin as he checked over the tightness of Indulth’s straps. “Do you know how to properly mount a dragon?” Since they weren’t weyrlings, he didn’t know how much experience they would actually have. And it would be faster if he were to simply help or teach them rather than waiting for them to figure it out themselves.

Indulth | 36M Long | 8M Tall | 63M Wingspan
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Offline X'rine

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #22 on: May 06, 2017, 12:44:42 AM »
X'rine did keep one ear trained on the passengers behind, and was pleased to note that neither of them really kicked up much of a fuss for their journey between. She always thought it was nice to hear of everyone learning what it was like to take a journey on a dragon, whether or not they were destined to. It was a privilege, but since they were in such close confines at Southern Winds, it seemed only reasonable that everyone should get the opportunity at least once. Between was a place to be respected yes, but not feared.

Lithely climbing down Tocath, she allowed Taeghen room to make his own way down, assuming he wouldn't need the help due to his proficiency earlier, but helped the apprentice weaver when Teaghen was safely out of the way.

Take Trouvaille with you, I'll go sit on the heights for now. He said watching to make sure they were all a safe distance away before he took off, allowing more dragons to land in his place. The brown would be back to be loaded up, but as it was, he was not needed, and would remove himself from the large crowd soon to arrive.

"Alright then. Since I've got you along with me, we should claim the records room, see if there is anything salvageable there." X'rine had an approximate knowledge of the layout of the hall, having studied the reports made of the place many times before, and also, most recently when they had all been called back to the Weyr.

"It should be right in the back, I would think." Somewhere not too exposed for sun damage and somewhere not too mildewy, she supposed, but she wasn't an expert but had more knowledge than many. And if Taeghen claimed to be a Printer, she would watch him to be sure, but there was no need not to take him at his word... yet.

Tocath ~ Length 31m ~ Height 6.5m ~ Wingspan 51m

Offline Pythia

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Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #23 on: May 06, 2017, 03:10:25 PM »
"Good, good." Pythia continued to be even and efficient in her tone, not exactly enthusiastic, but trying to be a little welcoming. What terseness came from her rider was overwhelmed by effusiveness from Miravith.

Yes, come sit, she encouraged the brown, speaking to him and not his human, though she knew there was likely no way Lokin wouldn't find out. She just didn't speak to people directly; she wasn't a Search dragon or anything of the sort, and the idea of talking to another human was just ... strange. But talking to a firelizard? Well, why not? She talked to Inkspot all the time. Be comfortable until we take off. Then that isn't a good place to sit.

Pythia was distantly aware of the conversation, but was putting most of her focus onto strap-adjustment for a second person, Miravith shifting obligingly as needed. "This is Miravith, by the way. I'm Pythia, that's—" Where the shells was that blue. Up on Miravith's left headknob. "—Inkspot up there. He comes when called. Just in case." Presumptively, she extended three fingers out toward Lokin's little queen; fingers to sniff or press her snout against if she wanted it rubbed. "Hop on up when you're ready."

She'd mount second, in case the candidate didn't have as easy a time as she was hoping.

Offline Calladren

Re: Weaver Hall Press Gang [ 34.5.2590 / 4:30 PM ] || Event
« Reply #24 on: May 08, 2017, 08:20:48 AM »
Being dismissed by Colvin, Calladren had been standing, slack-jawed, staring at the other Candidate as he walked away. Every time that Colvin dismissed him or treated him poorly, Calladren was heartbroken. Colvin used to be his best friend and now the older Candidate has replaced him with a new kid.

It took a moment for Calladren to realize that Octave was pulling on his ear. He looked in the direction that the blue fire-lizard was urging and saw a brown flit tugging Ysveta towards a bronze dragon. Octave insisted that the brown fire-lizard told them to head towards the dragon. "A b-b-bronze?!" Calladren had never ridden a bronze dragon before; this was better than a baker's dozen of bubbly pies. He soon forgot about the pain in his chest that Colvin caused.

Calladren, not wanting to make a bad first impression, straightened his shoulders, and confidently strode over to the waiting rider. He only stumbled once. He stopped in front of the dragonrider and bowed deeply to the bronze, first, and then to the rider himself. "My name is Calladren. I am grateful that you are allowing me to work with you today." It was very formal and practiced, as if he had been repeating this sort of greeting in a reflective glass.

He looked over to Ysveta and gave her a half-bow. "Ysveta, before we start working today, I wanted to apologize for the other day. I did not mean to have fun at your expense. I promise that nothing of the sort will happen today."

Calladren waited for the other Candidate to get astride the bronze before he, too, took the assistance to clamber up the offered foreleg. This bronze was, by far, the largest dragon he'd ever ridden. Cal had ridden his father's brown once, but he was small for a brown. Calladren situated himself behind Ysveta. He looked around for the riding straps but did not make a move to fasten them. It would be rude to attach himself to another person's dragon without their permission.

Octave, who had left Calladren's shoulder at the time of the first deep bow his bonded gave, squawked a greeting to the bronze and then settled on Calladren's shoulder, his talons latched into the shoulder pad.

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