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10/20/2001
Logfile from G'deon
MOO Time: 2001-10-20 19:50:23
Weyrleader's Ledge (#3330)
This amply large ledge has been worn smooth over hundreds of Turns, old gouges
and new appearing here and there from the countless dragons who have visited
from time to time. A heavy leather flap covers the entrance to the weyr to keep
the heat inside and the cool out, but it can be easily rolled up when the weather
is pleasant.
It is a summer afternoon. The sun sinks westward, across the deep blue of the
sky. The eastern wind still blows, making the heat easily bearable. The puffs
of clouds above clot the sky with their cheery plumes.
Bronze Nylanth and blue Sakuruth are here.
Obvious exits:
Weyr
Sakuruth (#9100)
Shadows brush the night-deep blues of this stocky dragon to a near-violet, etching
with darkness his serene curves and simple lines. Indigo's richness forms the
backdrop to a glimmer of moonlight that highlights bold headknobs and rounded
muzzle, and adds a gleeful sparkle to the gentle curiosity of wide, wide eyes.
Starlight lightens his sails with silver, marking each spar with mithril and
a hint of sun's gold. From the off-kilter tilt of his spaded tail to the arching
stretch of his midnight-stained, solid-hewn neck, composed tranquility gives
the lie to the lunacy lurking beneath.
Dark, forest green leather encircles blue hide, once, twice, lacing betwixt
neckridges to form a vee of heavily stitched wherhide. Bare of ornamentation,
but for the heavy steel buckles, the straps are obviously not for show. A set
of loops, meticulously stitched on, serve as ladder-like rungs, or very steep
steps, to climb one's way up the powerful, thick neck to where a lightly padded
seat is. On the second, farther back of the straps, a built-in belt is there
for any non-rider passengers.
Settled comfortably 'tween two neckridges is Quara.
Additionally, Sakuruth is carrying Fara.
Sakuruth is 8 Turns, 11 months, and 2 days old.
He is 56 feet (18m) long, with a wingspan of 93 feet (31m).
Sakuruth seems to be listening.
You ascend with practiced steps up to Nylanth's bronzen neck and settle yourself between two neckridges.
Nylanth (#15000)
Oh for the torrent of darkness that blacks his claret hide; oh for the ribbons
of moonlight that etch each clattering stride. Doe-skin brown may soften his
hindquarters, but bronze laces that chiseled chin; and however dark, it twinkles
- Oh! How that jeweled hide twinkles - and fits with never a wrinkle, that darkly
gleaming skin. So lean, but so broad-shouldered, with a rapier length of tail;
his dashing, darkling glory so offset by those moonlit 'sails. Neckridges gallop
the length of his spine, with nothing to bar their way; and his eyes, like the
stroke of midnight - bright, like the moon at midnight - his eyes, like the
stroke of midnight, gleam with a robber's gaze.
Nylanth seems to be listening.
You take off.
Above the Northern Bowl
Sakuruth takes off from Weyrleader's Ledge
Sakuruth glides south, out towards the central bowl and further.
South you go, gliding across the bowl.
Above the Bowl
Sakuruth circles leisurely towards the lake.
The lake beckons, chalky but inviting nonetheless.
Above the Lake
Sakuruth soars in for a landing on Cerdith's ledge.
You soar in for a landing on Cerdith's ledge.
Cerdith's Ledge
Broad and spacious, this ledge might be fit for a queen except for a couple
of disadvantages that become obvious only on closer inspection. The ledge itself
is relatively shallow, probably really comfortable only for smaller dragons,
although several could easily lounge abreast. Additionally, the opening of the
weyr itself appears so small that even a good-sized blue would have trouble
squeezing in -- an illusion caused by the shadow of a large outcropping of stone,
actually, but daunting nonetheless.
It is a summer afternoon. The sun sinks westward, across the deep blue of the
sky. The eastern wind still blows, making the heat easily bearable. The puffs
of clouds above clot the sky with their cheery plumes.
Blue Cerdith and blue Sakuruth are here.
Reiko and Quara are here.
Obvious exits:
Weyr -- Fly
Reiko
Jet black hair falls shiny and straight just to her chin, a fringe of shorter
hair in front just brushing delicate brows. Her skin is creamy-pale, with just
a faint blush on high cheekbones and full lips. Wide-set emerald eyes are tipped
up slightly at the outside corners and framed with thick black lashes, giving
her a vaguely feline appearance. Neither overly tall nor overly short, Reiko
stands straight-shouldered with quiet confidence and moves with an easy, quiet
grace.
Supple leather clings to Reiko's slim form, so dark it seems true black until
just the right light hits it, when it gives off a rich, plum glow. The jacket
is a bit roomy but still tailored, more casual than truly elegant, given the
collar up-turned in back in a flirtatiously naive way. Smudge-dark bronze fastenings
allow for quite a bit of modification in how it is worn, even allowing a bit
of cleavage to show when the jacket is not tightly closed for flight. The lapels
are dyed a pleasant, contrasting cream, the color echoing in trim along the
cuff and edges, as well as along reinforced seams. Emphasizing her slim hips
and thighs, the trousers have just enough give to be comfortable, are snug enough
to attract admiration. The cut widens a bit further down, parting in a slit
below the knee along the outside of the calf to accommodate softly-buffed black
boots.
Two cords, royal blue and black, intertwine in a single loop on her shoulder.
The small tail and two tassels tell any who look that Reiko is Wingleader for
the Wildfire Wing at High Reaches Weyr... and the brilliant turquoise ribbon
weaving around and about the cords proudly signifies her lifemate, blue Cerdith.
She is awake and looks alert.
Reiko is 21 Turns, 1 month, and 11 days old.
Cerdith
Vibrant versatility trumpets its fanfare of sapphire and aquamarine to herald
this dragon: a wiry grace made flesh with the lithe, efficient lines of a dancer.
Brighter blue illuminates the well-formed headknobs: a spotlight for the scherzo
of aqua that tumbles the length of his slender neck and back and masques his
wedge-shaped head. Turquoise elegance plucks the cobalt that strings his glassy
'sails and echoes darker in the strokes of midnight that chime along graceful
spars and talon tips. His starlit tail is no curtain call, however, but an encore
that continues life's dance.
Cerdith is 1 Turn, 9 months, and 21 days old.
He is 53 feet (17m) long, with a wingspan of 88 feet (29m).
Cerdith seems to be listening.
Nylanth backwings carefully scooching /way/ off to the side, barely giving G'deon enough room to hop off, though he does with a bit of flair, even with an odd bundle slung over his back. "Hello again, Reiko!" he calls over jovially, though after that he just stays quiet and gives Quara his oft seen roguish grin.
You slide gently down Nylanth's neck and land with a soft thud.
Quara arrives, looking thoroughly pleased with herself for no apparent reason. "Again?... Oh, right." Graduation was a few hours ago; she's quite forgotten it. "Ahem. Do hope you don't mind us just barging right on in here, y'know." It's pretty crowded by now; Nylanth may be making himself small, but a bronze can only do so much, and Sakuruth is no miniature blue. "So... liking being a rider?" she asks, perfectly innocent. Surely this is just a social call from the Weyrleader and a Wingleader. Surely.
Reiko actually looks as though she arrived here not long ago herself, still working on the buckles of Cerdith's straps. Both rider and dragon crouch back involuntarily as Nylanth wings in for a landing, barely leaving room for Sakuruth to join them, and wide emerald eyes blink a few times in surprise. "Oh... hello." A twisted smile is offered in greeting, followed by a bemused nod. "Like... being a rider? Of course I do."
"Oh, /marvelous/! It's so nice to see you newest youngsters-" Quara /is/ twenty-seven, you know- "settling in so nicely. And Cerdith is really such a darling blue. Wonderful colors. Not as, er, bright as Catiminith. But lovely." Inane chatter a specialty, as her rather vacuous expression shows. "But, dear, I don't suppose you've given any thought to what you'll be doing now?" After all, she certainly didn't.
G'deon is about to lean against Nylanth but pauses... the bronze is concentrating hard enough on keeping his balance. Instead, the rider just sets down his bundle and grins over at Reiko and Cerdith. "He /is/ a darling blue, you know. And these two have been flying so well lately, don't you agree, Quara?"
Still feeling the effects of the wine from the party, Reiko fixes a lazy smile on Quara at the compliment to her lifemate. It doesn't even occur to her to bristle at the 'youngsters' comment. "Thank you," she says mildly, emerald gaze sliding sidelong to look at Cerdith again as if every detail of his hide weren't imprinted on her memory. Now for the question. "Well.. I just assumed we'd be told at some point." It's not really like Reiko to think ahead.
Quara nods emphatically. "Oh, yes, I concur entirely." Someone's expanded her vocabulary. "Heh. You're entirely correct, actually, now that I think about it. Kind of like E'ren told me that I was to be Wingleader." She looks quite ready to start an hours-long reminiscence on her youth, but at a nudge from a large, slightly a-kilter tailtip, she blinks back into the real world. "Ahem. Right. Where was I? Ah, yes. G'deon, darling, you've the bag, so you might as well fetch the bottle." And while she's handing out instructions, "Oh, and Reiko, dear, if you'd be so kind as to report to Inferno's table from now on? Don't forget, now."
G'deon all but beams at Reiko, winking at her quickly before nodding the affirmative to Quara. "Right away, 'leader," is barked out before he dips into the dulled clinking of glass in the bulky sack to produce a clear bottle of Benden White. "Or red if you prefer." As he'd much rather keep the white to himself. Alas.
Reiko begins to wish she'd had a little less wine, frowning lightly as she tries to make sense of all those words... but at last the important part sinks in. "Inferno?" She glances at G'deon as if for confirmation, in time to see him extract a positively delightful looking bottle from the bag she hadn't noticed before. The twisted smirk returns, spreading unbidden to a full-blown smile as emerald gaze returns to the Wingleader. "I think I can remember. And white's fine. ... Thank you."
Quara fishes a sparkly new knot out of a pouch at her hip, and then promptly shoves it back in. "Er. That was for a greenrider. Lemme look." She digs for several moments, and finally comes up for air, this time with the right knot. "Blue. Much better. You'll want this, of course, Reiko." The knot is presented, as well, although not with the appreciation accorded the wine. Inferno has its priorities in order.
"Welcome to the family, Reiko," G'deon says quite charmingly as he hands over the bottle. "But this means I can't drag you into anymore wingleader meetings, doesn't it?" He pauses for a long moment and grins at Quara. "For now anyway, you never know..." Sometimes big dumb bronzers end up with much better lifemates who fly senior queens after all. And then you end up with big dumb weyrleaders.
Reiko takes the wine from G'deon and the badge from Quara--in that order--tucking the first in the crook of her arm and the second in her pocket, to be attached to her knot when she's got two hands free. And when she can see straight. "Thanks," she says, looking from one to the other. Actually, she's quite easily charmed, given the amount of wine she's already consumed today--probably the only outward indication that she's not quite herself. "I'll let you know if I actually miss those meetings," she adds sweetly, although she seriously doubts she'll miss the responsibility.
G'deon laughs quickly, wide shoulders shrugging. "Ah, no hurries there, you can let me down softly," he teases with a broad smile. "I'm sure you'll do just fine in your new wing. I know I always enjoyed it." He arches his head towards Quara and gives a wink. "And any problems, questions... just ask Quara here. She's probably the only one who knows what she's doing." Faranth help us all.
Quara coughs quietly. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Not even she knows what she's doing half the time. "Just... thank the first egg that wingseconds exist." And, with that benediction, she comments, "And you don't even have to lead the wing anymore. That's my job." She sounds so very enthusiastic. Either it's the wine or she's giving Reiko a last chance to run away.
Reiko smirks lightly, fixing a glittering emerald gaze on Quara with completely unconscious wandering appraisal. "Sounds perfect," she says easily. She's not giving back the wine /or/ the badge.
Wine affects one's thinking.
The poor girl
G'deon laughs softly as he again hefts the clinking bundle of wine to his shoulder. "Great! You won't regret it," he assures Reiko before giving Quara a glance. So.... what now?"
Quara could make idle chatter for ages. Especially when one of the talkees has already been plied with wine. But... "Things to do, people to distress, and though we /do/ love you, Reiko - we wouldn't have tapped you, else, you know - we really ought to be going and finding the rest of the ones we've been allotted this go-round and it could take forever to chase them down even if nobody's dragon decides to climb the weyr." And yes, that was all technically one sentence.
One sentence or no, it's still about ten times as many words as Reiko has functioning braincells to process. So she nods quickly--a move she immediately regrets--and waves them off. "Thanks again," she manages, cradling the bottle carefully in the crook of her arm. Um. yeah.
G'deon nods once more to Reiko before carefully moving back to Nylanth, not that there's a long distance to go, and even more carefully situates the sack of goodies before climbing to the bronzen neckridges. "Clear skies, Inferno rider," he offers cheerfully. And with that, Nylanth is all too happy to leap back from the ledge, wings outstretched.
You ascend with practiced steps up to Nylanth's bronzen neck and settle yourself between two neckridges.
Above the Lake
[End of log]