The Dragonriders of PernŽ is a trademark, Registered U.S. Patent & Trademark Office, of Anne McCaffrey. This is a recorded session, generated by Harper's Tale MOO on Thursday, July 15th, 1999, for the benefit of members unable to attend. Logged by Pyrene.
Responsibilities
[The night before this, Pyrene had been promoted to head nanny. Not exactly over the moon, she'd gone to the living caverns with Neola for some serious drinking. 9 month old Avenlea, daughter of S'phen, then Weyrleader, and Annalee, came in and found herself able to crawl just about anywhere she wanted without being hindered by the people in the room. She OOCly pondered whether or not to fall down the stairs, and I volunteered to take the rap for it if she did. S'phen seemed terribly amused at the prospect of yelling at Pyrene, so Avenlea went ahead with it. She was rushed to the infirmary, and the following night, S'phen caught Pyrene alone in the Living Caverns and asked her if she'd like to step outside for a moment so that they could have a 'little discussion'. Ethree's addition later was completely unpremeditated but vastly entertaining.]
Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds -- quite literally -- overhead, a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half mile in both directions, and although sometimes a bit of a stretch, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece: carven, hand-worn and foothold-full, it gives a bit of centerpoint to the otherwise vast emptiness of the area.
To the north lie the hatching grounds and leadership weyrs, while the lows of herdbeasts mark the feeding pens to the northeast. A flurry of ever-present activity marks the living caverns to the west, and another time-traveled path the ground weyrs just adjacent to the southwest. Southeast, a glint of blue shows the lake, glittering and cold.
It is a summer late night.
S'phen strides out of the cavern and glances about the bowl...good, he wan't here, if all whent well, he could have this little discussion without draconic
interfeerance. turning to face the nanny, weyrleader suddies her face 'fore speaking. "do you realize who that was that needed to be taken into the infirmary last evening?"
Pyrene bites her lip, but straightens her shoulders. "I recognised Avenlea, yes." She pauses and drops her eyes, "I'm really sorry,
S'phen... I didn't mean for it to happen... how is she today?"
"she is better today, thanks to some of the best healers on pern posted here at the
weyr." S'phen assures quietly. "what you entend or not is of no consaquence here. it is the fact that it happened and i want to hear your versaion of the events."
Pyrene takes a deep breath... "I wasn't actually on duty that night, Mirisae promoted me and then I, well, I went to the living caverns for a drink." She blushes deeply, "I don't often get the chance for some wine... I'm usually too busy, so I thought I'd make the most of it."
S'phen listens quietly, alowing pyrene the curdisy to finish... "go on...what happened?"
Pyrene takes another breath, fighting down the urge to hyperventilate. "Well, Avenlea came in. I don't know what she was doing on her own, but I watched her... while drinking. She just seemed to be puttering about like babies do, and I was sure that another nanny, or Alee or you would come and get her soon. So I carried on drinking." She falters again, finding it hard to admit her own mistakes.
"and you didn't double check to see if the nanny had followed her?" S'phen's voices was quiet, calm, but his eyes gave away his
emotin.....flashing fire, or so it might seem to the already frightened nanny.
Pyrene is studying her boots rather than S'phen's eyes, but the words aren't particularly reassuring, "No..." she admits, lamely explaining, "I was tired, and I didn't want to even think about children and nannies. I was determined to have one night to myself..." She swallows again, hard and bites her lip.
S'phen nods a little, "i can hardly falt you for that, however, did you not know that the nanny on that duty was tired, and fell asleep shortly after you left? it's not the first complaint
iether." above, as S'phen spoke, a shadow falls over the area and remains there, huvering in place...
Pyrene nods weakly, glancing up briefly at S'phen and then above, eyes wide and frightened. "I.. I found that out this morning... I'm changing her, putting her on shifts instead, if you'd rather have a replacement," she stammers out, wretchedly hoping that the worst might just be over.
S'phen nods slowly, eyes glazing slightly as he shook his head and blinks. "replacing her will be
suficiant.....however.....someone else wishes to speak o you." and s'phen hoped to faranth pyrene could handle this cause he could hold his lifemate back, no matter how he tried.
Pyrene looks nervously about her. "Alee?" she wonders, tentatively, "My apologies to her as well, of course..." She starts trembling again, all too aware of how much worse it /could/ have been.
Trebinth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
"nn-n-no...not, analee." S'phen replies, steping back as Trebenth lands, eyes whirling bright firey red. with a rumble....
Pyrene blinks, genuinely surprised, "Treb? What? You're upset with me too?" She's shaken, and wasn't particularly composed to start with.
You sense that Trebinth's thughts enter your mind, a tossing tirmoil of cinnamon and nutmeg overload overlapped with white hot furey that isn't restrained. his low, rumbling voice reverberates in you mind, echoing with each silable as he gazes at you with soule peercing red orbs. << you /will/ insure this does not happen again! you will assure this will not happen to any other hatching in this
weyr, and you will apoligize directly to analee without entervintion.>> white hot furey swirls heating, boiling with
antincity. his wors were not a rquest, but a direct order, and to infosize his meaning the image of the weyrleader's knot. << the nanny is to be removed of her posision at once. /no/ hatchling should be injured in this manner again! >>
Tahara steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.
Tahara smiles and waves to Pyrene, "Hello, long time since I have bumped into you."
Tahara says, "How have you been?"
Pyrene reels backwards, until she hits the stone wall, staring white-faced at
Trebinth. Trebinth! "I'm sorry..." she whispers finally, tears of shock and guilt tracing their way down her face. "I'm sorry..."
Tahara 's face shows a concerned look, "Are you okay?"
S'phen watches pyrene quietly and frowns at trebenth's forcefullness but not moving to
enterveen. draconic red eyes steadily peers at pyrene for a long, eternal moment before slowly rising into the air and returns to his
weyr.
Trebinth takes off.
Pyrene just continues to cry softly to herself. "He hates me, S'phen" she whispers between sobs, "He really hates me... I'm sorry.. I know I should have watched her... taken her back to you... I'm sorry..." Unable to excuse her behaviour even to herself anymore, she just leans against the wall, not meeting anybody's eyes.
Tahara's face is covered in confusion, she has no clue what is going on. She looks to see if Pyrene is okay.
S'phen smiles softly, walking over to place a hand on the nannies shoulder. 'he doesn't hate you
pyrene, he's just disterbed that my daughter was njured. he cares about her very much as he does the rest of the people in this weyr even you. i forgive you, and he will too. but all we ak is you take care not to repiet the same mistake."
Pyrene looks up at him piteously, "You still want me to be nanny? He said..." she shudders and nods, gathering herself to stand straight again, "I won't, I swear... I /can/ look after the children, I will." She's dimly aware that she's not making much sense, but the earnestness in her voice is utterly sincere.
Wiranth drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
Ethree slides from Wiranth's neck and lands gently on the ground.
S'phen smiles softly at pyrene. "you'll be a good nanny, just do as trebenth
has...i'd say asked, but he didn't ask, he ordered it...anyway, do as he's asked you and everything will be fine."
Pyrene nods at S'phen, utterly exhausted. Painfully drying eyes look around finally noticing Ethree and
Tahara, and she blushes, embarrassed to have been seen by enemy and friend alike.
"i must go now pyrene. i'll try and calm trebenth...he'll think better of his force in a day or so." S'phen shrugs in a
'lifemates are hopeless manner,' and slowly walks off.
S'phen continues, heading north.
Ethree mindlessly arranges Wiranth's side-straps. Buckleing, unbuckling, fiddling with clasps and snaps. It seems her mind is somewhere else, but not for long. The scuffle in the bowl's center soon siezes her attention, brows raising as she enters with a long, determined stride.
Ethree
Bronze and grey, black and blue, all colors collide with a flurry in Ethree's wiry form. Features seem chipped from ancient marble, Strong with expression but subtly delicate. Her hair, the hue of raven's feathers, casts shadows, thin bangs framing the sides of her face, and the rest falling across her broad shoulders. Grey eyes flash with a sense of willfulness and self-assurance, ranging in hue from the fog over the morning waters, to thread's menacing silver. Her skin warm bronze, tanned from her former residence of
Igen. Shifting in elemental grace, she seems to carry blantant volcanic tendencies wherever she travels.
The line of her leathers are sleek; while not a second skin, they still fit well to her wiry form. Like a serene midnight sky, the only decoration to the indigo tainting the fabric is a rim of minute silver stars embroidered as a border to hems and cuffs. Thin strips of silver accent the side seams of the slim trousers, all but melding with the blunt heeled black boots. Sable fur completes the cuffs of top and edges the brim of hood left hanging down her back; Ethree's leathers are a testimony to both her Weyr and dragon's shades. A small insignia of lavender and white shows the outfit to be of Weaver origin. Perched on Ethree's shoulder is
Skitch. Perched oh-so pompously on Ethree's shoulder is Monarch
Deep black and creeping blue twine atop Ethree's shoulder- The bruised colors of a High Reaches
Wingrider.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
Carrying:
Silver Necklace Monarch
Skitch
Ethree is 39 Turns, 9 months, and 21 days old.
Pyrene was feeling as if she was at the end of her tether, now she's not sure that it hasn't broken. She glances apprehensively at
Ethree, then to Tahara with nearly as much anxiety. Nothing happened, really.
Tahara walks over to Pyrene, must be pretty serious, Pyrene hasn't told her what to do yet, "Are you okay?"
Ethree knows expressions, oh yes she does. Her stride softens as Pyrene comes into focus, and she makes a wide circle about the girl while Wiranth filters through information and gossip. Circling, she seems unsure of just what may happen.
Pyrene wipes her face swiftly, straightening her shoulders and trying to look calm. "I'm OK,
Tahara," she tells the girl a touch woodenly, while warily watching Eth.
Ethree, finally getting a clear picture of the events, though biased one way or the other, halts her step. In goes a deep breath, and out it comes as a carefully chosen phrase:
"Klah's hot in the caverns. Gonna get some?" Well, it's the least she could do.
Pyrene stares at Eth for a brief moment, then nods, trying to retain her dignity even if she's not sure that she doesn't deserve to be fed to
Wiranth. "Juice maybe, coming Tahara?" she says, voice still a little stiff, although she's slowly calming down again.
Tahara nods her head, "Sure."
Tahara releases Basil, who launches into the air.
Basil flies over to Pyrene, chirping in a supporting, comforting tone.
Ethree stomps, making sure you hear her to the Caverns.
You go to the Living Caverns.
Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Tucked into a glowlit niche are Ghost, Nocturno, Kynance, Mera, Rocu, and Cavort.
You see Tray 'o bubblies and Question Deck here.
Ethree is here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl Kitchens Inner Caverns Crafting Area
Tahara walks away with a light step, curls bouncing up and down, in from the Central Bowl.
Basil hops, glides, and waddles a little like her human friend before taking to flight and coming in from the Central Bowl.
Tahara walks over and get a mug of khal, she looks to see if anyone else needs some.
Ethree claims a chair, never once venturing towards the klah pot. It sits, steaming contentedly, and Eth' steams as well, but with other emotions attached. Not a word. Just a stare.
Pyrene makes her way to a table and sits down, dimly certain that she's /not/ going to crack in front of Ethree of all people. At least Tahara and Basil get a faint smile while she pours herself some juice, "Anybody else want some juice?" she asks, trying to look normal, despite the fact that eth's /staring/.
Tahara gives a small smile, "Thanks, I will have this for now. Takes away the nip from outside." Looks uneasily towards
Etheree, she decides not to ask her if she wants some. Something much bigger seems to be going on.
Tahara takes a seat by the fire, "Well, Pyrene, it has been quite a while since I have seen you. How have you been?"
Ethree does that rather well, dosen't she? Eyes squinted just-so, brows lowered enough to cause a few creases to mark her
forhead, and lips pursed unmovingly. "No juice, no juice here. I'll have none of it."
Pyrene sips, her not particularly good impression of a calm person utterly given away by the fact that her fire lizards are crooning at her in anxiety. She glares at them, then jumps at Ethree's comment, which earns the bluerider Pyrene's own inferior stare. "I've been OK,
Tahara," she says uncomfortably. "Just a few problems...." Which she's not particularly keen on discussing in front of /her/.
Basil hops over to Pyrene, peering at her in curiosity.
Tahara stretchs, "Are you still having as much time as ever chasing the rug rats?" She sips her khal slowly.
Pyrene scratches Basil's eyeridges gently, then pauses at Tahara's question. "I... Well," Oh to thread with it, "I let Avenlea fall down the stairs and hurt herself last night, so, I'd say that was a Yes. And I've been suitably punished for it, never fear." she adds stonily for Ethree's benefit.
Tahara shakes her head, concern crossing her face, "I am so sorry to hear that, is the baby okay?"
Basil leans in to Pyrene's scratching, eyes swirling.
Ethree reaches around and scratches the back of her neck, now drawing her lips into a thin line. At Tahara's inquiry, she tilts her head and reinstates that glare. "I give no punishment, for it's not my place. Just know
Pyrene, that I never respected irresponsible people, and I keep no kind opinion of /you/, this only an addition proving what I suspected at first glance."
Hisss.
Gideon arrives from deeper in the Weyr.
Pyrene nods to Tahara, wiping damp hair out of her face, "She's fine..." She breaks off at Ethree's interjection, and whips around an indignant flair in her eyes. Her mouth opens and closes enough to clench her teeth. She can't actually deny Ethree's words, she's not exactly made a responsible reputation for herself.
Tahara waves Gideon over, "Hello, stranger. What have you been up to?" She looks from Ethree to Pyrene wondering what the bad water is all about.
Gideon wanders in aimlessly, smiling as he notices he's not the only one up at this hour.
Gideon releases Sonate, who launches into the air.
Ethree ignores the look, of course, pushing up from the chair with casual and contained ease. To the klah pot she saunters, snagging a mug and splasing klah lazily into it.
Basil chirps to Sonate while nudging Pyrene's hand.
Gideon smiles, taking a seat between Tahara and Pyrene. "Not much, how have you been,
Tahara? Flits givin' ye trouble yet?"
Basil gives an indignant chirp. She is no trouble except when she gets caught in Tahara's hair.
Pyrene is practically foaming at the mouth. Unable to think of a single retort to make, she flounces back down into her chair, sending Gideon a bitter look as he enters too, before returning to Ethwatch in the vain hope that she'll scald herself or choke or something.
Tahara looks over to Basil, "Been trying not to get into too much trouble. Basil has been my partner in crime."
Gideon frowns worridly, glancing between Pyrene and Ethree. He gives a small hopeless shrug, as again... as usual, that is, he has completely missed something.
Sonate chirps from her post, giving Basil an admiring nod.
Ethree turns, klah cradled close. She shoos a drudge out of her chair with a jerk of her raven head, and settles back down.
Pyrene turns back to her juice, commenting just loud enough to be heard, "Drudges have as much right to sit as anybody else. Maybe more than some."
Ethree sips her klah, watching her prey over the mug's rim. "Not when I just got up from it. And while on the subject of rights, what gives you the right to adress me like that? Or wear that knot, which your deeds have tarnished?"
Tahara takes another sip of the klah, watching the heating exchanges between the two women. Her eyes widen as the barrage continues, her mind is whirling, trying to figure out a way to through some water on this fire.
Pyrene flicks a brief glance at Ethree, "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, /rider/. I didn't ask for this knot. And I'm not going to stop and give up just because I made /one/ mistake. The Weyrleader didn't want me to step down, so I won't. I may not have wanted the job, but I'll do it. I do know my duty." Stiff and unfriendly if not outright hostile. Even her lizards are keepinig their distance now.
"Child." Ethree spits out the word like an explicitive, and one directed directly towards you-know who. "A shame to the weyr, no mater what S'phen and his big tender heart may say. May your next 'little' mistake lead you quickly and quietly out of all our sights."
Tahara starts to flush, how can this lady be so cruel? Poor Pyrene.
Pyrene stands, looking about ready to either set upon Ethree or... run away. Which is what she does, face flushed crimson.
Pyrene goes home.
Ethree stands and slips out, as if all this took not a thing out of her.
Ethree goes home.
Tahara looks over to Gideon, "Oh, that was nasty. Wonder what could cause such bad water?"
[A sevenday or so later...]
You sense that Trebinth reches out, searching the weyr, the bowl, the caverns, his mind washing through each and every cranny till he finds that of the head nanny's, soft hues of golden sunshine accompanied with the sweet sent of cinnamon and netmeg flooding your mind. oosing into every space it can find. thought are restless, that of a dragon unable to sleep on a night before fall. an image slowly forms in your mind of
avenlea, her mother, and her father all togather and happy. image faids, replaced by that of himself, eye's whirling soft bluegreen of pleasure. tone of mindvoice is repentant, calm, and almost saddend as thought now form words, brief, but effective words. << forgive me for my harshness of a few night
agao? >> thought swirl slightly, refocusing on another image of the weyr's counscle chambers and the weyrleader seated at an empty table, klah and cookies nearby. << i is alone and free. >>
Council Chambers
Smoothed stone, polished by the passage of thousands of turns, gleams in the light of myriad glowbaskets strung up on the walls of the dome ceilinged chamber. Tapestries on all sides add vivid splashes of color, some old, some new, but each depicting a facet of Weyr life both past and present. Centering the rocky hall is the great council table, a thick heavy stone tablet set on several low pillars and surrounded by highbacked wooden chairs. All around the room, painted florils in High Reaches blue and black accent the snow-white banner that runs along the walls near floor and ceiling. If you look carefully, you might find a wayward 'scroll' lying untended.
Various half-hidden stairwells lead up to the weyrs above, and a warm tunnel runs west towards the nearby Hatching Sands.
Balanced on tapestry-rods are Chef, Noropolo, Lei, Sidhe, Reno, WhirlWhind, and
HRWB.
S'phen is here.
Obvious exits:
Sands Bowl
Pyrene enters wide-eyed. OK, big scary important type place right now. Plus
S'phen... who can also be big and scary. Pushing down her nerves, she grins tentatively at him and touches her head, "I was called?"
S'phen is writing on a hide at an empty table, kooies and klah nearby as seen in the image from
trebenth. fact, if one didn't know better, Trebenth might have actualy been in the room. the truth is he invisioned it from his rider's vision. S'phen blink, simistartled and studdies pyrene for a moment. "hi,
pyrene. called? by whom?" he quaries quietly, odviously confused."
Pyrene blinks back at him and blushes, "I... Trebinth... I thought you knew... I'm sorry, I'll go." She takes a few steps back towards the bowl, confused and embarrassed.
"no, wait pyrene." S'phen motions to an impty seat across from him, 'please com in and relax. help orself to cookies and
klah. cookies are fresh from the kitchen." Sphen's eyes glaze slightly as he speaks then shakes his head.
"trebenth bespoke you again?" he asks, clearly guessing.
Still blushing, Pyrene slips over and into the seat. Even in this uncertain state, cookies are not refused and she nibbles on one, nodding. "He did... though not as much as the other night. Ugh." She winces slightly at the memory, then timidly continues, "How's Avenlea doing now?"
"she's doing better, healing," S'phen says quietly, studdying pyrene's face
curiousely. "what did he say? or what, rather, did he invision to you?"
Pyrene hesitates, remembering with little effort "You and your family... and then you here, as you are now. He apologised for the other night and, well, I thought he meant for me to come and see you." She picks at her cookie for a bit and then looks up,
"CAn you tell him that I deserved the other night, but if he's not angry with me any more, then... well, I'm happy. Very happy."
S'phen smiles, "no, he isn't mad at you anymore. he'd had time to cool down. i suspect he was merely telling you where i was, incase you needed intirpretation of what he said or whowed
yo. he's a dragon of very few words and when he does speak, he speaks plainly, once, and no
repeting." a pauses, "but one thing i've leared, he never speaks without reason and always the truth. if he apoligizesc the you can sware on the shell of the first egg he /does/
appologize."
A smile so sincere it's childish breaks out on Pyrene's face. "I'm glad... I hated thinking that you both were upset with me. I swear, nothing like that will ever happen again. I'm definitely not going to drink again." Rashly made promises and unlikely to last, but the intent is sincere enough.
S'phen smiles warmly and nods, "trebenth doesn't stay upset long, usualy i can calm him down efore he does what he did to you the other evening, but he was so inraged with furey at his 'hatchling' beeing hurt, that even erranth couldn't sooth him. erranth and trebenth are best draconic friends."
Pyrene flushes, eyes flicking downwards for a moment. She and Erranth aren't exactly 'friends' per se.
"Erranth tried to calm him down? He wasn't mad at me?" she asks, looking back again in curiosity.
S'phen smiles softly and finishes his klah and brushing the crumbs infront of him off on the floor. "well, erranth was upset alright," he says with a shrugs, "but his rider is a harper and a good one i might add. he's a bit
more...er... shall we say, descreet about how he channels his anger. analee had her share of sleepless nights argewin with him and tending to
avenlea, i'm sure, but he did try to check trebenth before he got to yu but couldn't. i'm afraid the only thing that might have checked treb completely would have been
ysbryth, but she wan't in the weyr at the time.
Pyrene grimaces. "Good, I richly deserved that 'talking to'. But I truly am sorry, I have been since the moment it happened... I'm just glad you're willing to give me a second chance. /Some/ wouldn't." And to be honest, she wouldn't have expected it.
In your mind, you hear a soft voice say, << everyone derserves a second chance. dragonknd and humankind alike no matter who they are. >>
S'phen smiles and nods a bit, 'every one deserve a second chance, no matter who they are. mistakes are made, it's normal, it the idea that we learn from those mistakes.
Pyrene doesn't jump this time, although she does draw in her breath quickly, glancing at S'phen to see if he heard that too. She doesn't quite understand this dragonspeak thing... "You have a very lovely dragon, you know." she says softly, "One of the nicest people I know..." She nods to his words, "I've learned... I'm learning."
S'phen smiles and shrugs, "perhaps, but there are nicer people than i." a cuious glance is given
pyrene, as he is not always aware of whom, or what his dragon bespeaks."
Pyrene sighs, relaxing fully for the first time in a sevenday or more. "I'm sorry to have taken up your time, but... thanks," she says, smiling gently up at him, "Both you and
Trebinth..."
S'phen says, "smiles warmly, 'never appologize for coming. i wish more of the weyr's folk wuld come see the weyrleader more
offen. these doors are always open to the weyr. thank you fore coming.""
Pyrene stands and slips over for a quick impulsive hug before leaving with a much lighter step than when she entered.
