[Editor's note: This is not the best log of RP in the world, but I've decided to put it up for various sentimental reaons (and I have it, thanks to D'renn, because my silly self back then didn't log! Gah!). It features early appearances of various well-known faces around High Reaches: M'rin, G'deon, Kh'et... Alright, so it features a bunch of future bronzeriders, but it's the first meeting between Lis and D'renn, neither of whom had any idea at the time - ICly or OOCly! - that Lis was going to make him eat is words: "Liseria, Starcraft Apprentice." D'renn muses. "Well, as long as you know the way to Gar, you'll do for me..." ]

Trydanth zings ::between::!
:::BETWEEN!:::
You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::... absolute
darkness surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you... you wait, and
count...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest...

And so onto the Flying Mug...

You open a door labelled The Flying Mug and pass through.
The Flying Mug
Gliding around are Storm, Goddess, Charlemagne, Galahad, Iris, Siiri, Abacus, Zing, Genisis, Darkstar, Keka, Bossk, Ranger, and SilverWing.
Liseria, Keris, and Maurin are here.

Keris sits down at the Rose Table.

Tremeyre glides in from the dining hall, closing the door behind him to prevent the Mug's noise from spilling into the dining hall.

D'renn stomps in, looking about as puzzled and lost as a dragonrider with a shiny knot and bright pink leathers can possibly get.

Liseria
Peeking out from behind her father's old cap, turned backwards in a defiant but loving statement, two brown eyes shine shyly like two mugs of klah, fresh and steaming from the fire. Between the eyes lies a nose, long and somewhat large but with an upturned end in a effort to appear cute. Her skin is speckled with the occasional blemish of adolescence, but for the most part fair with a light tan. Her lips have a hue of light pink all their own, curling into a grin and sometimes parting in a laugh to expose a smile of white. Framing her face with errant sun-spun strands, Liseria's hair is unruly at best. Only with her stalwart effort will it lay in the curvy little waves that she's got it to be in now. Winding about her legs like a fair of low-flying firelizards is a large and very nearly tent-like patchwork skirt. Orderly squares of fabric are sown together in what appears to be an orderly fashion. Blues, greens, purples, yellows and reds dot their way over the fabric in various floral patterns. Draping loosely from her shoulders is an unstarched white tunic fitting well over her tall form with just enough looseness to make her appear slim, long sleeves of alabaster cascading down her arms to ending in a dancing ring of firelizards about the cuffs. Another set of colorful forms twirl their way across her bustline, with a third and final circle ringing her neck around the high collar.
On her shoulder is a knot of an apprentice of StarCraft.
Liseria is 17 Turns and 9 days old.

Maurin
Small, mal-fed as a youth caused this young man to grow no more than a meager five foot five, but he hunches over in towards himself to make him seem even smaller. He has the pale skin of one that doesn't go out much, but retains the faint tinge of pink that betrays to healthy skin. He has a short, striaght nose and large, widely set pale-yet-intense blue eyes that seem to look up at everyone and everything. His hands are almost too large, and usually clasped behind him to hide the highly caloused palms. Topping this all of is raggedly cut starberry blond hair, the wispy un-even bangs playing gently across his forehead. Well, at least this drudge keeps himself pretty clean. A worn and quite patched black tunic covers his upper half, clasping around the waist with a thin brown belt. Equally worn out grey leggings hug his legs down to his ankles, where they are tucked into a pair of large dull black boots that lace up on the outer side of his foot. Perched on Maurin's shoulder is Lue. Perched on Maurin's shoulder is Obe.
Maurin is 19 Turns, 8 months, and 4 days old.

Maurin releases Obe, who launches into the air.

Maurin releases Lue, who launches into the air.

Keka snorts. Trying to be friendly are we? We-ell, I suppose that /could/ work. Burbling back the chittered greeting given to him, he lands upon SilverWing's table.

Maurin eyes Keka and Silverwing warily from behind his 'shield'.

SilverWing pouts at the sudden onslaught of firelizards invading _his_ mug, the hyperactive ultramarine beast screeches for reinforcement.

Keka squeaks himself, backwinging away from the screeching fellow blue. Help! He wings back to Liseria, getting away from the poorly behaving firelizard.

D'renn stomps straight to the bar, swift to talk the barkeep into giving him a mug of klah. Leaning an elbow against one wall, he drinks less-than-silently, wincing at firelizard screeches.

Liseria calls to Keka, who glides over to perch on her hat.

SilverWing calms down a bit, but not much as he marches towards Maurin authoritively and pokes blue snout in his face demandingly.

The drudge, aka Maurin, winces and ducks away from the snout of SilverWing. And, attempting to flee again, gets two rather nice bruises on his shins from a nearby chair.

Keara walks with a graceful, yet energetic stride in from the great hall.

Obe lands on the edge of Maurin's serving tray, flapping his wings to keep his balance on the wobbling tray, and hisses defiantly at SilverWing. This is /his/ food source, dangit.

Liseria sends a soothing hand to comfort Keka, scritching his eyeridges gently. Against all good form, she grins at the drudge as the blue assaults him. It's kind of funny, in a sick way.

Keara sits down at the Rose Table.

Being ignored in favor of a firelizard scrap is a new experience for D'renn: he's not accustomed to being anything less than the center of attention, especially in his tight pink leathers. "Ahem," he attempts, setting the empty klah mug back onto the bar, and then assaying another stage cough. "Ahem. Could someone help me?"

SilverWing sighing absently at the somewhat clutzy drudge, Silver screechies in overlording dominance (yeah...right), gliding forth upon gossamer sails to divebomb Maurin, flaring to land neatly on the other end of the tray, engaging in a stare-down with Obe.

Liseria looks up from the entertainment, seeing as no one's made a move to help the newcomer. "What sort of help do you need, sir?"

Carna walks in from the great hall.

Maurin blinks at the pink-clad dragonrider, as his attention was solely on the squaking 'lizard. The tips of his ears begin to gain a certain tinge of pink as he hurries in the straightest path possible (which is also one away from the firelizard fight) towards him. "R-really sorry, s-sir..." He stammers, making several hasty apologies. "M-may I get you s-something?"

Carna sits down at the Rose Table.

Scyther divebombs you from the ceiling, flaring dangerously and floating away at the last possible nano-second, eyeing you flirtatiously with smug satisfaction adorning her angular face.

At last! Ruffling one hand back through his unruly curls, D'renn favours his helpers-to-be with a broad smile. "I'm not from around here..." As they may have noticed... "And I've been looking all over for someone who can direct me to the Starcrafters at Gar." The crinkles of annoyance at the corners of his eyes show that it's been a long and fruitless search.

Scyther seizes control of the situation and bashes SilverWing smartly over the head, scramblign his brains a bit and promptly chewing him out with a long, complex series of chitters, screeches, wails, and hissing.

Liseria brings her palm to her forehead. Ooh, shardit, she's put her foot in her mouth again. Wait, what's this? "Starcraft?" she begins in an unsteady voice. "I can certainly help you there, sir. I'm a Starcrafter m'self." A grin spreads across her face as she tries to hide her relieved sigh.

Maurin shifts nervously from foot to foot. "S-sorry, sir...Can't h-help ya there...D-dunno where G-gar is..." He stammers, throwing a glance over his shoulder at the 'lizards.

Maurin goes home.

D'renn gives the 'lizards a long, glaring look.... Never mind that his own are capable of behaving just as badly. "Well, thanks anyhow..." he replies to Maurin before looking Liseria up and down and round and all over. "Starcraft are you? Ah-hah."

SilverWing wimpers and backs off in terror. Eeeevil green. With a flip and two back hand springs (umm..yeah) he is gone, leaving the helpless human souls to deal with the ticked off Scyther.

SilverWing gives a regal toss of his azure head and flickers into the deep, arctic void of ::between::

Liseria quirks one brow upward, one brow downward in her look of confusion. "Yes, sir..." is all that manages to come out, her mind to busy trying to figure this pink-wearing person out.

Raspberry, if you don't mind... "So, is Gar far from here?" D'renn demands, lounging still against a wall. "I've got to collect some charts for the weyrlings to learn from, Fire blister their behinds...."

Scyther patrols the perimeter of the flying mug, fending of any firelizards in her way with a screech the defies the limits of the human hearing range and combined hissing and snorting.

Darkstar lifts dark head and narrows eyes of red, hissing.

Liseria grins to herself, more twisted torture to make her day. "Well, it's about half a day's ride by runner, but the wagons do shave off a candlemark or two. Especially the ones that like to drive fast." Evil memories send her into a shivering fit. Only a minor one, thankfully. She's already embarassed herself enough.

Scyther hisses back towards deep covine lizard authoritively, wings flaring upwards as the short thread to her temper catches aflame, eyes blazing in a crimson inferno.

Zara walks in from the great hall.
Zara smiles

"So nothing but a short hop for my Trydanth, then," D'renn decides, ignoring any embarrassment... he's not the time to notice any but his own. "Though I'll need someone to point out the way, mark you.... doing anything right now?" Blue eyes shoot a semi-glare towards the noisy green, before settling on Liseria again. "I'm D'renn, by the way..."

Darkstar makes no move to back down. Why should he do what /she/ wants? Near black wings open up, creating an even darker void around himself.

Liseria takes a short breath. Did that sound like a dragon-ride? Trying to put it out of her mind, she manages a nod. "Well met. I'm Liseria. And I'd be more than happy to help you!"

"Liseria, Starcraft Apprentice." D'renn muses. "Well, as long as you know the way to Gar, you'll do for me..." pushing off the wall to stand upright, he beckons to the girl. "This-a-way, then."

You pass through a door into the great hall.
Great Hall

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, in from the Flying Mug.

"He's up on the fireheights..." D'renn mutters, heading towards the stairs.

And so up to the Fire Heights we climb...

Fire Heights
Blue Zenth and blue Trydanth are here.

Liseria emerges from the stairwell leading into the hold, panting and puffing from the climb.
Liseria glances around her for D'renn, apology all prepared. "I'm sorry. You
see, I don't know Ista Hold as well as Gar."

"Shards, but I hate those stairs," D'renn grumbles, raking his hair back into place. "It's alright, I don't know my way round either...." Trydanth stands up, grumbling too that his enjoyment of a warm sunset is being disturbed. "Up you get, Liseria..." D'renn invites.

Up you scramble, settling twixt spiked neckridges.

Liseria comes out of the stairway, stepping a little closer to the blue. "Well, he's kind of...big. How'm I supposed to get up on him?" Feeling /very/ naive, she turns embarassedly to D'renn.

[Ed. Note:Talk about naive. I originally thought Trydanth was a bronze! Poor blue!]

Trydanth leans his muzzle rather close to Liseria, warm firestone-scented breath threatening to envelop her. "Oh, just reach up... he's tall, but you should try a gold!" D'renn answers, kicking the blue neck till Trydanth settles lower. "Reach up, grab my hand, and [mount trydanth]."

D'renn tickles Liseria! Liseria giggles frivolously!

Liseria does as she's told, reaching up towards the offered hand as she stands on tiptoe. Here goes nothing.
Liseria scrambles up to settle herself between spiked neckridges.

"See, easy!" D'renn beams back at her, passing over the red-tinged riding straps. "Ever ridden before? We won't be betweening anyhow, I don't know where Gar is..."

Liseria settles her bum into the neckrides more comfortable. Ahh. "Never," she answers, looking in a Gar-ly direction. "We'll have to take off first, won't we? I can't quite see Gar from here..."

Trydanth hears the magic words, and rises to his full height, copper-tinged wings stretching wide. "Take off we shall..." D'renn confirms, making sure his passenger is buckled in tight. "Hold onto me if you need to..." A note of amusement suggests that the bluerider wouldn't mind a bit.

You take off.
Above Ista Hold

Trydanth circles slowly over Ista's Hold, D'renn shading his eyes into the sunset, away from the sea. "So which way?" he demands of his passenger, voice loud against the inevitable wind.

Liseria slides a hand onto D'renn, fingers clutching the soft fabric. Ooh, soft. Her heart goes to her mouth at the first flight, and it's a while before she can speak again. "Up towards the valley!" she calls back to him.

Valley it is then....

You fly westward, above the hold valley.
Above Hold Valley

OOC: D'renn isn;t sure I can fly straight to Gar from here... so we're going
to cheat and skip between. But really we flew straight, Ok?

OOC: Liseria nods.

Above Gar
You soar high above the grassy plains of Gar.  From here you can see the hold itself, nestled in the outcrop of a cliff face, and vast fields of farmland and grazing lands.  Herds of horses and cattle roam the fields, under the watchful eye of Gar herders.  It is an autumn sunset.

Eventually Trydanth soars into Gar-airspace, ably guided by Liseria. "Here we are," D'renn calls back, frowning somewhat as the blue glides at a steep angle towards the hold.

You glide down for a landing.
Gar Hold CourtYard
You stand on the porch of Gar Hold.  Just inside you can see the elegant, yet simple design of this burgeoning hold.  Outside, you have a beautiful view of the hold valley.  Large trees line the trail here, creating a nice canopy of shade for the weary traveller.  A couple of paths diverge from the hold to follow their own paths.  Each path is set with red brick
cobblestone.  Flower Beds line the porch creating a nice feeling of returning home.  Several rockers, a bench or two, and a swing can be found on the porch, for those who wish to come out and enjoy the beauty of nature.
It is an autumn sunset.
On the perch is Prometheus.

Liseria looks at Gar around the neck of the blue dragon. "Well, here we are. Do you still need someone to take you to Starcraft?" Oops, wrong thing to say again. "Or do you think you can find it from here?" Liseria winces, hoping not to have made a bad impression on the dragon and his rider.

"I was hoping you might point me in the right direction, at least..." D'renn half-pleads, blue eyes twinkling as he reaches back to unhook the straps that hold both rider and passenger safe. That done, he slides easily down the tall blue's side, and reaches up both hands for Liseria. "Down you come!"

Slither slither slither, all the way down Trydanth's side you go...

Liseria slithers down Trydanth's side with only minimal help from the blue.

Trydanth turns his whirling gaze on Liseria, whuffling loudly. "Hey, behave," D'renn scolds absently, busy examining his new surroundings. "Give his nose a push if he's bothering you, Liseria...."

Liseria shakes her skirts quickly into place after getting off that dagon. She looks up to find a blue muzzle in her face. "Oh, he's not bothering me," she replies, reaching a hand up to touch the said snout lightly.

More warm breath tickles over Liseria before Trydanth stretches out a paw to nudge his own rider. Sometimes D'renn's attention is very hard to get. "What?!" D'renn demands, peering up at the blue... then chuckles. "Oh, I see."

Liseria looks fromm blue to rider, blinking at that recent blast of warm air. "What'd he say?" Her voice comes out a little /too/ demanding for her ears, but she's more curious than anything else.

"He says you give very good directions," D'renn answers, strictly truthful but with a sly smile. "Now, is there any chance of you showing me to... erm, Rosuma, I think it is?"

Liseria shakes her head to herself. Ah well, s'much for /that/. Hearing the name, Liseria pauses to think. "Well, I can take you to the hall. I don't know if I'll be able to /find/ Rosuma, though."

"Oh, she's expecting me..." D'renn answers blithely, gesturing for Liseria to lead the way.

Liseria nods, thinking. "Oh, well that's different then. This way!" With a quick pace, she makes her way to the main hold, glancing back to make sure D'renn's still there.

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, to the Gar Hold
Entry Hall.

Trydanth sends another gusting sigh of air after Liseria and D'renn.

You go to the Gar Hold Entry Hall.
Gar Hold Entry Hall
The Entry Hall of Gar Hold is roughly octagonal in shape.  Eight doors lead out of it, one is the one you just entered from.  The first thing you notice is the mural painted on the walls.  It seems to be a panoramic depiction of
a orchard in the spring.  The artist took their time as everything is at nearly life size.  Lining the sides of the Hall are padded stone benches, that seem to flow freely into the mural.  Posted over the Door to the Holder's Office is the Hold Crest, A shield of Forest Green with a solitary Blue band placed diagonal across the shield.  While the center of all movement in Gar Hold, it still remains a pleasant place to stop and talk anytime with friends, and enjoy the mural.
On the perch is Garak.
You see Poppet , Puck, and Tig here.
Liseria is here.

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, to the Main Hallway.

You go to the Main Hallway.
Main Hallway
The Main Hall is lined with 'Portraits' of the past and current Holders. The Hall itself is painted in a pleasant forest green, the primary color of the Hold, with a Dark Blue strip running about three feet off the ground along the sides of the Hall.  A couple of sofas are situated here next to the doors for the Steward's Office and the Holder's Office, so that one can rest comfortable while waiting.
Liseria is here.

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, to the Auditorium.

You go to the Auditorium.
Auditorium
Light filters in through the series of windows near the ceiling, illumanating the room below. The Auditorium is painted in a delicate light blue, with black and white marble used to create a checker board pattern on the floor. The walls are lined with padded benches so that the weary guests may sit. The South wall has a slightly raised stage, perfect for performers
to use when playing or the holder to address the hold doing meetings. From the small scratches and general appearance, it would seem that this room has seen a lot of use. Maybe if you stick around long enough, you will get to use it too.
Liseria is here.

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, to the StarCraft
Main Hall.

You go to the StarCraft Main Hall.
StarCraft Main Hall
The vaulted Great Hall of StarCraft possesses a grandeur that belies its recent construction. Built to inspire the mind to look upward, smooth columns support the Gothic arches of the ceiling. The Hall runs on an East-West axis, with the heavy doors of the main office to the west. To the north and south other doors lead to various work areas. Staircases at the corners of the hall lead up to a balcony that wraps around the three sides of north, south, and west.
On the perch is Samwise.
You see Merci and Sage here.
Liseria is here.

You go to the StarCraft Office.
StarCraft Office
The wood-panelled and carpeted confines of the StarCraft's main office convey an aura of calm, order, and peace. Still, there is constant motion inthis room and the new Master has left her mark on it, in the form of scattered knicknacks, papers, charts hung askew on the walls, and empty klah mugs left abandoned on the desk.
On the perch is Edison.
Rosuma is here.

Knock knock... it's a dragonrider with Starcraft apprentice in tow.
Somewhere.

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, in from the
StarCraft Main Hall.

Ah-hah. "Goodday to you... I'm looking for Rosuma, I'm here to collect some charts for High Reaches Weyr..." D'renn announces himself confidently.

Rosuma
Tall and lithe, this young woman has grown into quite an efficient Master as evidenced by the way she now carries herself, no wasted flowery movements without meaning. Her klah color eyes sparkle more with a quieter humor and thought, than with mischeif (which is not to say that she is not mischevious anymore!) Her skin is still quite tan, but it is obviously paler than what it had been at one time and a light dusting of tiny freckles are barely visible upon her sharp, angular, almost vixen-like features. Her hair is a medium brown with lighter streaks of sun bleached hair, and is almost always
tied back loosely with a sky-blue string to hang at the nape of her neck. The errant strands of hair that almost always seem to find their way to fly into her face are quickly brushed aside in a motion that has become so much
of a habit that she does it even when there is nothing in her face. A deep green tunic drapes a little oddly on her, but she never seems to notice it. She's wearing a pair of well-worn shorts that might have once been a different color than what they are now: a dusty brown from all the use it's seen outside. Her thin fingers are dotted with ink from the book she's constantly writing in.
Her red and silver knot has a double cord, triple loop, two tassles and a gold thread indicating her rank as the Starcraft CraftMaster.
Rosuma is 24 Turns, 3 months, and 9 days old.

Liseria follows D'renn in, standing close to the doorway. Well, at least he /sounds/ like he knows what he's doing. Skirting around the back of the dragonrider, she finds herself a seat, promptly plopping down into it.

Rosuma jerks her head up from the stack of papers where she had been resting it (just for a moment - really!) Soft crimson creeps into her cheeks but she quickly covers her embarassment, with a ducked head on the pretext of searching for something "Oh yes.." she says looking back up - under control now "Yes, I'm she and the charts are....ah....somewhere around here...." she says her eyes begining to cast about her.

"Thanks..." D'renn answers absently, looking the young Master over with the usual glint in his eyes. Blue glazes for a moment though, and he casts another look at Liseria... and starts to smirk.

Liseria isn't too sure what to do with herself. She couldn't just wait outside, could she? And she certainly can't leave now, not since she's been spotted...and smirked at.

Rosuma's lips purse slightly as she roots around in one of the deeper stacks of charts, but soon ease up into a smile as she pulls out a few from the center. She quickly rolls them up and deftly ties a string around them, turning her smile back up to the rider as she hands the tube to him, standing up and leaning over the table to reach him. As she shifts her position, she catches sight of the almost cowering apprentice by the door, her glance a touch curious.

"Thanks for the charts," D'renn repeats, casting a swift look back at Liseria. "Actually, there's something else I need from the Hall, if it's alright with you." Clutching the tube of scrolls carefully, he winks at Rosuma.

Liseria shifts in her chair, idly staring at a hanging on the wall and trying to look like she's paying attention. Gaze darts back to D'renn and Rosuma, then back to the wall. Sigh...boring...

Rosuma's brows furrows slightly with momentary confusion, but then her eyes drift again back at the apprentice, and the rider's wink confirms her suspicion. With a quirk of her lips she settles back down into her seat, looking up at the rider. "Oh?"

"I'd like to steal Liseria from you, if I may... Trydanth says she's suitable, and who am I to argue with my dragon?" D'renn shrugs, the bombshell dropped... and perches himself on the edge of the desk without asking, waiting for results.

Liseria blinks at D'renn, a soft cough coming from her throat. "What?" She bolts from her chair, trying to smooth her skirt down. Arrgh, she did it again. "I mean, did I hear you correctly?" Trying to be polite isn't as easy as it looks.

The quirk of a smile on Rosuma's lips remain, though an unidentifiable emotion flashes past her eyes breifly, before she turns her head towards the apprentice patiently....

"I think you did," D'renn reassures Liseria, sounding very amused. "Yep, Trydanth wants you to come and be a Candidate at High Reaches... if you're willing, and your Masters say yes."

Glowbug arrives with a sparkle of gold and bronze.

Rosuma remains silent, her eyes glued on the apprentice her face expressionless, obviously not going to speak or do anything 'til the girl speaks.

Liseria stops short, gaze flicking over to Rosuma. Her teeth fix on her bottom lip, nibbling at it in suspense. "Please say yes!" she blurts out around her impatiently chewed lips.

D'renn chuckles, he can't help it, and nor can he manage to turn it into a cough in time.

A chuckle escapes Rosuma's lips at the apprentice's outburst, silent for a few moments more before repling with a touch of humor in her voice "I don't believe it is really my place to disagree with what a dragon wants, and though I would of course want you to stay with the Craft, it is not my place to interfere with such a chance.."

"Right, that's that then," D'renn declares swiftly, thanking Rosuma with a bright bright smile as he skips down off his desk-perch. "Run off and fetch your stuff, Liseria, and I'll meet you out in the courtyard... Hurry though, Trydanth's getting fidgety!"

Liseria blinks, then blinks again. "Wow..." She puts her hands to her hair. "Ooh, my. Yes, yes, my stuff." She fairly bolts full-speed out of the door way, swinging on the frame as she runs towards the stairs.

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, to the StarCraft
Main Hall.

Glowbug glides to the StarCraft Main Hall.

You go to the StarCraft Main Hall.
StarCraft Main Hall

And so out...

You go to the Gar Hold CourtYard.
Gar Hold CourtYard
On the perch is Prometheus.
Blue Trydanth is here.

Trydanth stops turning in circles the instant Liseria appears, and shuffles over to envelop her in warm breath again. "Yup, he likes you..." D'renn mutters.

Liseria grins from ear to ear, despite smelly dragonbreath in her face. In fact, she even revels in it. "So I take it," she replies, coughing a little from that odd scent so close to her.

D'renn grins and beckons for Liseria to mount up. "The sooner we get you back to the Weyr, the sooner he'll calm down..."

Up you scramble, settling twixt spiked neckridges.
Trydanth [Gar Hold CourtYard]

Liseria scrambles up to settle herself between spiked neckridges.

You take off.
Above Gar

Trydanth soars straight up, no messing about. Time to take his prize home... "Hold on tightly," D'renn warns Liseria, checking the straps again. "We're going between...." And then they do.

You visualize Above High Reaches for Trydanth.
Trydanth zings ::between::!
:::BETWEEN!:::
You hang, senseless, in the dark nothingness of ::between::... absolute darkness surrounds you, and the profound cold stings you... you wait, and count...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest...

Above High Reaches

Trydanth appears from ::between:: like a bolt of blue lightning.

Liseria gasps at the immenseness of the mountians. "Shards, but aren't they beautiful!" she gasps, half to herself, half to the 'lizzen on her shoulders.

"They are," D'renn answers proudly. /His/ mountains... Trydanth bugles loudly to the watchdragon, a note of triumph, before circling slowly down.

You abandon the view from high above the bowl and circle lower, passing the Spires and Star Stones on the way down.
Above the Bowl

Wings tired? Or you just want to feel solid earth beneath your paws...
Central Bowl
It is an autumn evening.  As the light fades, the clouds part, revealing Belior, glowing almost red.  Shadows lengthen, and the cold keeps many indoors.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are Jesse, Nonono, Gunwalloe,
Litza, and Cynic.
Brown Azrieth, bronze Cairhoth, blue Kyleth, and green Xeth are here.

Slither slither slither, all the way down Trydanth's side you go...

From Trydanth's neck, Liseria peers at the bowl, getting a good, long look at it, 'cause from the sounds of things it seems like she's going to be spending quite a while there. Following after D'renn, she dismounts with no help this time.

Liseria slithers down Trydanth's side with only minimal help from the blue.

D'renn dismounts swiftly, Trydanth voluntarily making a leg for Liseria. "There we go... welcome to the Reaches, Liseria," the rider declaims, as Trydanth sighs over them both.

Sabo steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.
Sabo pads silently to the Pens.

You go to the Living Caverns.
Living Caverns

Central Bowl> D'renn strides lightly to the Caverns.

Central Bowl> Liseria looks up at the sky, noting the change in the stars, and a very slight change at that, compared to the temperature. "I should've thought to bring some warmer clothes..." Quickly, she skips after D'renn.
Central Bowl> Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, to the Caverns.

Liseria walks quietly, skirt swirling about her ankles, in from the Central
Bowl.

"Oh, don't worry, we'll find you something," D'renn answers Liseria's last thought, practically dragging the girl through the living caverns.

Deeper, darker, narrower... passages kink and twist into the Weyr.
Inner Caverns

Liseria moves in from the Caverns.

"This-a-way..." D'renn directs.

You survived! Escaping through the heavy canvas curtain you arrive here...
Candidate Barracks
Resting atop the doorframe are Kageen, Primavera, Rhiangar, Azule, Harpy, Eldi, Titania, Beau, Merric, Aijin, Felvis, Vegas, Kate, Eris, Vedra, Dytez, and Warrior.
Khayet and Gideon are here.

Liseria escapes in from the bustling activity of caverns and Weyr.

D'renn sends a drudge running for a cot.  After a few minutes the drudge returns dragging a big heavy cot for Liseria.

"Another one for the ranks!" D'renn declares, pointing to an empty cot. "Sling your stuff there, Liseria... make yourself at home!"

Liseria glances around her, half-stumbling over to her cot. She arrives without incdent, dropping the bundle at her back onto it. Wow. She made it. A feeble wave, smile, and cheerful if dazed "Hello" is given to those around her.

Gideon looks up quickly then smiles, offering a friendly nod to the new Candidate.

Khayet wakes up.

D'renn waves his hands around vaguely, one still clutching the precious roll of scrolls. "Well, here you are, Liseria... make yourself at home!" and the weyrlingmaster slips out, going to placate his dragon.

Back out into the bustling world of the caverns you go.
Inner Caverns

Candidate Barracks> D'renn slips back out to the caverns.

Candidate Barracks> Gideon grins as D'renn leaves.  He stands holding out his hand to the other two in the room.  "Name's Gideon," he offers in a quiet voice so as not to disturb the sleeping.

Candidate Barracks> Khayet lifts his head from searching for something under his cot.  "Oh....Hullo there...."

Candidate Barracks> Glowbug vanishes, leaving behind a sparkle of gold and bronze that disappears in an instant.

Candidate Barracks> Liseria takes the offered hand. At least, that's what she's supposed to do, right? "Well met. I'm Liseria."

Candidate Barracks> Khayet rolls off cot, fogetting the elusive etude.  "I'm Khayet...." He says with a bow of the head.

Candidate Barracks> Gideon shakes Liseria's hand with a smile and nods to both her and Khayet.  "Well met," he replies.

Candidate Barracks> Liseria blinks, wondering if she was supposed to offer her name to the man-under-the-bed as well. Eh, well, he'll find out sometime. She plunks herself down on the cot, beginning to unload the bundle that lays there.