6/17/2003
03:03
PM
Logfile
from Kibai.
Central
Bowl
Seven
spindles brush the clouds overhead, displaying a jagged, spired cotillion
grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full
half-mile in both directions, and though a bit of a stretch at times, 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 within the middle of the otherwise vast emptiness.
The
hatching grounds and leadership weyrs are located to the north, while the
sounds of herdbeasts noisily allude to the pens slightly east of there.
Constant traffic marks the entrance to the westward living caverns, and a
glance... [look closer]
It is a summer before dawn.
To the
northeast, you see a blue dragon.
To the
north, you see a gold and a brown dragon.
To the
southeast, you see four dragons.
Clinging
to footholds in the boulder-mound are eighteen firelizards.
Green
Kelitath, brown Sevareth, green Alymath, and green Zhesteth are here.
You see
a wagonmaster, Dry organic waste, and Shafirah here.
Caeran,
Llewellyn, Sadira, and Kalaeya are here.
Obvious
exits:
Pens Northern Bowl Caverns Ground
Weyrs Passageway Lakeside Guard's HQ
Kibai
emerges from the caverns, a steaming mug of something or another in his hands.
A light bit of steam wafts from it, carrying the aroma of cider -naturally. The
young man flickers a glance over the bowl, bored. Bored. Bored. Bored.
After a
moment of searching, Oekaf spots the man he's looking for. "Apprentice
Laerton, I need to speak with you for a minute!" The journeyman goes
running after him, turning his head to say, "Take care of the runners,
will you Caeran?" With a grim nod, Cae takes the reins. Didn't he say that
he'd had enough of runners. Seeing Kibai, he waves. "Do you think you
could show me the way to the satbles?"
Sadira
walks out from the caverns. Work done for now. She waves to all present and
seats herself on a convienent stone just high enough to be comfortable to sit
on.
Above,
Catiminith sneaks in from the dusty pens.
Above,
Catiminith drops down towards the Bowl.
Catiminith
drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
A touch
of orchid shimmers with Sora's descent, leaving behind Catiminith's elegant
indigo ridges for the more stolid support of the ground.
Kibai
purses his lips to blow over the top of his mug, sending the steam away for a
moment. He lifts the lip of the cup to his mouth to drink, only to hesitate as
he is addressed. His gaze alites upon Caeran, and then the teenager seems to
consider for a moment. "I think...." And then he is pointing off to
the left, "I believe they are
right over there. Head out in that direction and you'll either find them or a
dragon waiting. Either way, you'll end up rid of those runners."
Llewellyn
snorts at Kibai. "Very helpful." HJe turns to Caeran. "C'mon,
I'll show you. Beeasier, that way." Especially since he's the one who will
have to take care of it.
"I
don't know why, Cati," Sora grumbles to the blue as she slides carelessly
off his shoulder, "you insist on getting up so early. It's /predawn/, for
Faranth's sake." And yet, despite that, there are people awake. The group
gets a bleary squint, and a muttered, "Heathens."
Mikailyn
swish-swishes in from the northern bowl, looking very pale beneath her
peachy-pink skin and clutching at her skirt. "I want to go back on a
wagon," moans Mikailyn, shooting a mournful look at the taller boy trailing
along behind her. "I don't want a ride again! You didn't say I shouldn't
wear a skirt, K'dan, you didn't say that /at all./" Grumblemourn.
Kalaeya
walks out.
Kalaeya
walks in.
Kalaeya
walks to the Guard's HQ.
Sadira
giggles oh so very softly and says nothing. She sips at her klah and just
watches those around herself. Quiet today, how odd.
Caeran
smiles at Kibai's joke. "I don't think Oekaf would be very happy with me
if a dragon got to them. Uh, Llewellyn, do you think you could lead one of them
for me?" He's worried about the runner he had been riding, which is eying
him with a look the novice horseman sees as wicked.
Kalaeya
walks in from the Guards Headquarters.
Kibai
shoots Llewwellyn a sly smile, not a bit remorseful. "I try," he
murmurs, glancing away once again only to squint at the vague shape of a nearby
dragon. Well, that is until Caeran speaks once more, and the young man is
nodding his head, "No, I don't suppose not. But you know how dangerous a
Weyr can be..." At the rider's barely heard murmur, he chuckles darkly.
Miria
flounces, spring in her step, in from the Guards Headquarters.
Llewellyn
tries not to laugh. Wicked runner is gathered in, one hand at the bridle.
"Sure. They're not so bad." He reassures again, hiding a laugh at the
girl whose skirts have been tossed about. Woo.
Sora
leaves Catiminith to his own devices while she staggers into the caverns to
procure herself some sort of stimulating substance. "Behave yourself,
Cat." Pause. "No, I'm serious. And stay away from those runners.
That'un over there doesn't look too stable. I'll feed you later, I
promise." And off she goes.
Sora
ping-pongs haphazardly to the Caverns.
Caeran
is glad to be rid of the beast, so glad he doesn't even see the spectacle of
the skirt. Too bad. He would have
enjoyed it immensely and never let the lady hear the end of it. "I'm glad
somebody thinks so," he mutters to himself, exhausted from hours of
riding. He eyes Kibai. "If your willing to help me get rid of them, by all
means go ahead.
Mikailyn
slinks over to the crowd, listening in -- nevermind it's impolite, she'll
listen in anyway. Swish-swish, goes her skirt as she inches ever closer,
feigning innocent adorability. K'dan just rolls his eyes, heading towards the
living caverns as well.
Catiminith
settles down into a crouch, pondering the runner for a long moment with
half-whirling eyes. Spin. Spin. Eventually, tongue flickers out, and he
surreptitiously inches closer. Inch. Inch. Fingerspan fingerspan?
Draaaaag. Miria forces herself out of the Guard
headquarters with little bags under her eyes.
No matter how much she wants to nap, she's gotta go guard. "...Hi. Llewellyn.
Caeran." She can recall
those two; nobody else springs to mind.
"... don' tell me that blue's gonna have a feast right here in the
center of the bowl?" Her eyes
would go wide, if she wasn't so tired.
Kibai
rolls his eyes, looking back towards his cup. So interesting, that cup. Caeran
is offered another wry smile though, chuckling just the faintest. "Oh,
that is quite alright. I'm sure that you two can handle it all on your
own." Yeah, just forget about the salivating dragon nearby.
Llewellyn
chuckles. "Now, now, no feeding the runners to the dragons -- no matter
how tempted." The beast is tugged in the general direction of the stable,
whether it wants to or not. The dragon is eyed cautiously. No fingerspan
inching. That's not nice.
Caeran
silently begs Catiminth to have breakfast a little early this morning. Sure,
he'll have to ride another runner back home, but maybe the new one would be a
little more docile. He moves a little closer to the dragon. "Hi,
Miria," he says with a wave from his free hand. "I wouldn't be too
concerned. It's not like they're showcase runners or anything."
Llewellyn
grits his teeth as the runner he's holding tries to buck. "Oh, shards,
time to drag dead weight." And so he does: drag, that is.
Above,
Cinestioth appears with a cheeky whuffle from ::between::
Catiminith
is indeed salivating at this point, eyes whirling slightly brighter with vague
chases of yellow. Sparkle! Wings extend slightly, then fold smoothly back as he
ceases inching, and outright stalks Caeran's beast. Llewellyn's animal is given
a passing roll of the eyes -- but Sora always told him to keep away from
already panicking runners. Too bad.
"Errrr...
now, now..." Miria looks just
ever-so-faintly worried about this. No,
no bloodiness, no runner-carcasses.
"Caeran, now would be the time to get as fast as you can to the
stables." Catiminith gets a very,
very scared sort of look. No violence
please? Erp. "But.... it's a /runner/, Caeran..."
Above,
Cinestioth drops down towards the Bowl.
Cinestioth
drops in from above, landing with a light *thud*.
The
housekeeper arrives to cart Sadira off to bed.
Mikailyn
squeals at Catiminith, big-muddy-eyes flickering from him to the beasts.
"If he eats those /here/, I'm not cleaning it up." Just to get that
cleared right off the bat.
Kibai
will just take a long step back now. He has a good chance of seeing some
carnage this morning, and getting his shirt dribbled with flung goo isn't going
to make all that great of an impression with the Steward. "Might want to
do something about that," he comments from the sidelines, looking to
Caeran and gesturing to the runner in immediate danger of being digested in a
dragon's gut.
P'renn
slides awkwardly from between Cinestioth's sorral-splashed ridges to land with
a gentle thump.
P'renn
shakes his little boo-tay to the Caverns.
"Runners're
food to them," Llew points out to Miria through still-gritted teeth.
"Sharding beast. C'mon." Drag on, fool. Drag on. The runner screeches
in terror, bucks, and gets loose. Oops. "Ow." Llew growls. "I'm
not chasing that fool. Dragons c'n have him." And that's final. Growl.
Catiminith's
attention is re-captured. Now /there's/ a decent chase! The blue, as long as he
is, is remarkably flexible, and so abruptly twists around to slink cat-like
after the runner. Long-clawed paws extend, and corral the runner. Oooh, lookit
that. Now ... Mikailyn gets a slanty look. Vocal, isn't she? Catiminith
pat-pat-pats the runner towards her. Look, a present.
Caeran
gives in to popular opinion and urges the runner onward. Unfortunately, this
mare is stubborn and not exactly bright. Even as he tugs at the bridle with all
his might she wants to lag behind. "Come on," he commands, though
this only hurts the situation by making the runner resist him more. He sighs.
If the animal is too stupid to move, then let it become dragon food.
"Oh-kaaaay. That's a good runner y've got there. Could
put him to use as a guard steed."
Miria sticks her hands in her pockets and narrowly glances at the
stalking blue dragon. Going to make it
public? She might as well watch. Perhaps, even cheer.
Cinestioth
watches what seems to be a mess of people and beasts bordering hysteria... And
all Cinestioth is going to do? Blink. Yawn. Snuffle. Sleep. ZZzzZZzz.
Llewellyn
mutters, "These should have been dragon food ere now." He makes as if
to give Caeran's mount a swat on the rear, careful to stay clear of hind parts.
Kibai
watches on from the safety of the cavern opening. "Oh, too bad about
that," he calls out rather gamely as one of the runners darts off, only to
be captured. "For a moment there I though that one would get away."
Although, trying to run away in the middle of a Weyr bowl is pretty much well a
lost cause for that runner.
Mikailyn
stares down Catiminith, though it's no great display of bravery -- she's
wide-eyed and white-faced and generally greatly afeard. "I do /not/ want
your dinner, thank-you-very-much. It'll get on my skirt." The plain skirt
is swished. "Yicky." She scurries closer to the rest of the group in
an attempt to distance herself from Catiminith's live meal. "Probably just
wants it to run me over anyway, when he lets it go," she huffs.
The
loose runner is startled and confused by the blue's actions and easily falls
into his trap. Cae continues to grip the one he still has control of with all
his might, his knuckles white. It's all he can do to keep the mare from bolting
away and joining it's friend for a snack.
"Please," he begs the palomino, fearing the journeyman more
than anything. "Idon't want you eaten. Just him."
Catiminith
cranes his large head back over his shoulders, and snorts at Kibai. Honestly
now -- let one get away? So not even happening. Head snaps back with a hiss as
the runner kicks him, a draconic scowl wrinkling his muzzle. That's no good.
Mikailyn is sniffled at unceremoniously, as the blue pins her with a /stare/.
Look, yours. Cati needs to go take care of Caeran's runner -- he always did
like the stupid ones best.
Miria
develops a worried expression and suddenly wakes up. Not so sleepy anymore, is she?
"Um. Um. Do you need any help from me,
Caeran?" A guard might do to lend
strength to the situation. "'Cause
that's one /good/ runner I wouldn't like to lose, if t'were mine." Eyes shifting from dragon to runner, Miria
dashes over to Caeran's side.
Kibai
flickers a glance askance to Mikailyn with a wry grin. "Delightful
attitude you have there. Sunshine just beams out of your arse, doesn't
it?" Come on now, they are about to witness a mauling. How can you not be
pleased about that? After a sigh though at Cae's plight, the young man sets
down his cider and moves forward, looking to the other with hands that reach as
if to take a grip of whatever tack the runner is wearing and tug as well,
"Look like you could use a little help here." Understatement.
Mikailyn
turns abruptly, shaking an imperious finger at Kibai. "You wanna watch him
tear out that thing's innards, you have at it! Sunshine out of /my/ arse -- bet
I could stick a foot up yours, if I tried." A brief pause, and she shakes
her skirt once more. "And I had on trousers. But that wouldn't be
ladylike." So she turns, expression haughty, and grumbles at Catiminith
once more. "I don't /want/ that, no thank you please sir, you should giv
eit to your /rider/ sir." She does bobble forward politely, though, lest
he decide that caging griping-Mikis is more entertaining than caging and
frightening runnerbeasts.
Caeran
nods weakly. "I'm not very good with runners. Maybe if one of you could
take the other side of his bridle, and the other push..." Is that any way
to handle a runner? He's not entirely sure. And emergency situations have
certain exceptions. He decides to let the more experienced riders have their
way. Every few moments he glances in the direction of the other runner, but
Cati's body blocks his view.
"Sure..." Miria carefully skirts her way around the
runner and moves to grasp the other side of the bridle, hands tentatively
reaching for the leather. She doesn't
know much about runners either besides the actual task of riding one, you
see. "I can help you hold..." A guard?
This timorous? Almost laughable.
Kibai
would probably chuckle at that finger being waggled at him, but his hands are
sort of full at the moment. He shakes his head from side to side, and thus
begins the strip show. Well, actually it is only his shirt as it is peel over
his head and then flung over the runner's head to try to shield the creature's
eyes. Dumb animals, runners. What they can't see, they won't freak over.
"Try to lead him now," he mutters, holding both ends of his shirt under
the runner's chin to keep it in place. Only then will he look over to Mikailyn,
chuckling, "Maybe after this I'll let you have a try at it. Such shapely
calves."
Mikailyn
bounces angrily on her heels, glowering at Kibai again. "You'd /want/ me
to try it. Hah! I bet I could beat you --" And then her name's called from
the caverns, the boy she was with earlier shuffling back out. Miki just grumps,
sticking the tip of her tongue out in agitation. "Bah. Time to go
home." The finger wiggles at Kibai once more. "I'll be back."
And then she skips off -- oh, the fear she must instill. Err.
Mikailyn
goes home.
As if
by magic, the runner is quieted by the garment. It allows itself to be led
slowly away from the perils of the bowl's center. Caeran keeps pace beside it,
eyes wide with amazement. "Funny, isn't it? When she can see danger, she
won't move. When she has no idea where she's going, she allows us to lead
her." He'll never figure these creatures out. He smiles at Kibai
gratefully. He probably saved him a severe tongue-lashing, at least.
Rondalo
walks in.
The
innocent young child wanders his way into the central bowl, hands behind his
back and whistling a tune. "Why 'ello." Rondalo murmured politely to
the crowd of people. "'ow'd ya do?" He smiles, a mischievious twinkle
in his eyes.
Kibai
flickers a wry grin after Mikailyn as the girl darts off, muttering under his
breath. "Look forward to it." But, apparently, the shirt over the
runner worked, because the creature is finally allowing them to lead it out of
harm's way, hopefully. "So I've been told," he comments to Caeran
with something of a nod. Once they are comfortably away from the dragon though,
he is going to slip that shirt from the runner's head and drape it over an arm.
"Ahhhhh, my good deed for the day is done." Saving a runner's life.
Yeah, read great benchmark for the day. He turns back about to retrieve his mug
of cider and gives the others a nod, "Hopefully the rest of your day won't
be as exciting as this morning."