Neijin> Yevgeth sweeps gargantuan wingsails and lands gently upon the Courtyard floor from above.
Neijin> V'len unstraps himself and carefully makes his way down Yevgeth's huge shoulder, landing with a quiet thud on the ground.
Neijin> V'len is agitated. "It won't take long, Yev... really. It won't." The rider is both soothing and a bit annoyed, like a parent might be with a young child. Patting the great bronze's neck, he strides towards the great doors, stripping off his helmet and gloves as he does.
Neijin> V'len passes through the Great Doors and into the Great Hall.
V'len steps through the parted Great Doors and blinks as he looks about.
Great Hall
Holders' traditions shine through, even in Xanadu's great hall's modern architecture. High, arching ceilings are bedecked in the Hold colors, wide banners dipping from the eaves. The Lord's ancestry is illustrated in fine portraits that line the walls high-up, each framed in ornately-carved wood. The light-colored wood that floors the hall is worn smooth from use, though gleams still, carefully polished daily by the hands of attentive drudges. Long tables have been brought into the hallway, each table graced with a pristine white tablecloth and decorated with elaborate flower decorations. Around the room, small glows have been strung to create a soft but festive atmosphere.
One area has been cordoned off for dancing.
Obvious exits:
Great Doors Residential Hallway Reception Hallway
>> V'len glanced at you.
V'len
A black forelock of hair hangs nearly to V'len's gleaming dark eyes. High cheekbones, a slightly hooked nose and defined features give an almost hawklike appearance. Now cleanshaven, his face looks a little younger, perhaps, but no less assured. Although still lean, he shows signs of muscles beginning to develop from physical work done in candidacy and his into his weyrlinghood. Average in height, still unremarkable in build, he nevertheless carries himself with an air of superiority.
Brown, black and a thread of smokey gray twist together on V'len's shoulder, shot through with a bold bronze ribbon, signifying his status as a bronzerider at Fort Weyr, Peregrine Wing.
Soft, cream-colored leather is expertly pieced and fashioned into V'len's riding jacket. Cut broad at the shoulders and narrowing to a tight waist, it does much to accentuate his usually unimpressive build, actually causing V'len to get a second glance now and then.
Bronze cording highlight the neckline, cuffs, and belting at the waist, and a row of rather ornate bronze clips run down the front of the jacket, holding it closed against the chill of *between.* The inside is lined in combed llama wool, dyed an unlikely and rather jarring chartreuse, in deference to his lifemate's insistent 'suggestions.' His tight weyrhide pants are of a darker, nearly sable hue, nearly matching the coloration of the bronze cording, if not the metallic sheen. Klah-colored boots, perfectly shined, reach to just below the knee. Raina perches on V'len's shoulder.
V'len looks to be in his mid twenties.
He is awake, but has been staring off into space for 5 minutes.
Carrying:
Raina (#3488)
V'len steps into the Hall, blinking at the difference between the brightness of day and the shadows of inside. "I'm looking for Lady Neteen," he announces to the child there, as if she's there just to serve him. Of course... "Tell her I need to consult on a bit of decor for the sands?" Obviously a pressing need.
Taire is nothing more than a crumpled heap upon the ground, back pressed flush against one of the hall's walls. With head bowed down and a wealth of braids cascading to either side of her face, she seems almost as though she is asleep. Except for the odd muttering. And all for the benefit of the pack in her lap. One hand removes itself from her side as she plucks at a seam in the wherhide that seems to be coming appart. At a voice, the girl glances up from where she is sitting, cross-legged, to peer at the entrant, "Eh?" Nope, her attention wasn't at all on what he was saying.
"Ahem. Lady Neteen, please." If this child isn't here to serve him, V'len can see no use. Although... talking to a pack? V'len takes a step to peer closer. "You don't have anything alive in there, do you? Shards... not another one like my nephew Jorg. Always dragging in a trundlebug or even tunnelsnake. Horrid creatures... and a horrid little boy, actually."
Taire casts her head back, allowing her face to come clean, and only invoke a bit of a quirked smirk at the newcomer. Nose wriggles once, but she remains well and upon the ground. "Not 'nless one of me messages suddenly sprang wings and clucked like a fowl." Carrying live things a in pack ment for messages? Where do these people come from? A chest-engorging breath and an equally deflating, not to mention loud, sigh, "If'n you've got a message for her, I'll take it up? But she can be right busy from time to time. After all, she /is/ the Lady Holder." Sarcastic emphasis and all.
V'len blinks. Southerns. It can be so tiresome to have to educate them on just who he is. "I /know/ she's the Lady Holder," he retorts, matching her sarcasm, "But I'm V'len. Rider of the Magnificent Yevgeth?" His brow raises, awaiting a cry of recognition and a scrambling to her feet. He hates to drop his name...well, not really... but he does expect results when underlings know who they are dealing with. "Just tell her that." He taps his foot impatiently, eyes roving to the portraits on the wall.
Taire looks upon him rather blankly. The same look would more than likely be given to a Smith after he spent a good couple of candlemarks telling her about how to make an agenothree sprayer. Needless to say, she doesn't look all that... enthused. A brief consideration of actually standing registers and with deliberate slowness, she does so. That almost looked like it hurt with all of the scowling involved. "'N you expect her to come runnin' down here for the likes of you?" Dark brows arch showily over her eyes in challenge. A resigned sigh, "What do you need her for again?"
V'len considers, eyeing the girl. This is getting to be more trouble than it's worth almost, and Yevgeth is getting restless. "Decorating suggestions. I respect her taste... being a Lady and all." He bites his lip and then shrugs, as if throwing off an annoyance. "Nearly everyone in Pern comes running for the likes of me, missy," he intones, running a hand through his hair and doing his level best to look disdainful. It's just a happy delusion, but V'len's never been one to be close friends with reality. "But if she's truly busy, I suppose I could just give you the fabric samples I've brought and trust you to deliver them?" The note in his voice is doubtful, as if he's going to need a lot of reassurance that yes, indeed, his precious samples will be safe with this indolent child.
Taire's lips twist into a skeptical line. Decorating samples? The glimmer of a grin ghosts upon her lips, loosening them and deepening her dimples. Flagrant amusement twinkles in her eyes, having nothing whatsoever to do with the available light, as she most blatantly eyes him up and down. "They come runnin', eh?" A chuckle as she steps away from the wall, foot kicking aside her unraveling message pack with nary a glance. She peers up to him, "I can go 'n check, but don't be expecting much..." She starts away, then turns back, "Don't be taking too much liberties, while I'm gone." Aka, someone hide the food and wine. Can't trust those riders further than she could throw 'em.
V'len isn't expecting much... least not of this snippet of a girl. "I'm going to rob you of your valuable rucksack? Nab these dusty portraits to decorate my weyr? I do believe that Lady Neteen - or whoever is in charge of you - needs to teach you proper manners. You're hardly the sort that should be representing royalty! I, on the other hand, was chosen on the sands by The Magnificient Yevgeth, and that fact alone - even when my previous illustrious career is discounted - is recommendation enough for me!" He's drawn to his full height, jabbing himself in the chest, more than a little affronted. "But if you don't think you can /trust/ me... just come out and take the samples. I can see it's too much of a bother for someone as /busy/ as you." Sarcasm drips. "I'll just tell Lady Neteen when I see her next what sort of accommodations I got from her staff."
Taire hesitates on her way to the hallway, only to blink most curiously at him. Chin isn't lifting to a haughty angle, nor is she throwing back her shoulders, before calling him out on his own lack of manners. Nope. The messenger girl does seem a bit amused at his diatribe How the rider doth protest. But, the girl does manage a leveling grin as she strolls past him, skirt swishing with the movements, "Aye. Lets be on about it then." Simple as that.
V'len nods in satisfaction. The girl is finally coming around. "The samples are in Yevgeth's bags, out in the courtyard. You'll get to meet him... very lucky girl." He pauses to survey her well for the first time, just to see if she's up to the honor. Hmmm... well... no one else around to get those samples. "Follow me."
V'len heads outside through the Great Doors.
Neijin> V'len steps outside through the Great Doors.
You head outside through the Great Doors.
V'len just pulls himself up to full height, acting very nonchalant. Yevgeth is large for a bronze, and he's a very shiny bronze at that. Not really a dragon that fades into the woodwork by any means. V'len is used to the reaction. "I said he was magnificient, did I not?" V'len retorts icely, his fingers working the straps of the sack hanging from Yevgeth's straps. "Never doubt a bronzerider." He turns to the girl, his eyes leveling at hers. "No doubt this is a day you'll remember for the rest of your turns, one you'll tell your grandkidlets - about the day you met V'len and the Magnificent Yevgeth. Remember it well. Now where are those samples...?"
Yevgeth raises his head in interest as the girl comes out the door. Fluidly rising to his feet, he swings his neck around for a better look. So this was the creature that was aggravating his rider? Best to get a better look...
Sure. Magnificent in a slavering -Whoops, didn't see you there. Sorry I stepped on you with my giant, taloned foot, kinda way. Taire remains back, well back 'n clear, of that dragon. So, she dithers off to the side, looking most uncomfortable and hesitant and ready to bolt if it so much as growls in her direction. She has no plans whatsoever to have her bones used as toothpicks by the beast. "Shaffit," she mutters as it looks to her. A gaze to mesmerize and turn her to mush. Knees wobble. Voice raises as it wavers, "You just be hurryin' along now. Okay." Yep, she'll remember this day just fine, if she can live through it.
V'len is fumbling with the straps, completely oblivious to the discomfort of the girl. He takes her fear for wonder, awe and amazement... certainly the /correct/ response. As
Yevgeth's head snakes towards her, he glances up and chuckles. "He likes you. Can't imagine why. Dragons can be strange that way sometimes...." Fingers continue to work the straps.
Yevgeth is intrigued. He's a bit oblivious, too, to the girl's fear. His head stretches out closer, first wuffling her hair and then he steps forward - to V'lens' great annoyance, in order to circle his huge head around to encompass her. Not touching, but she's surrounded by dragon.
Taire shudders down to her toes. The girl has never fainted a day in her life, but this woozy feeling that is trickling through her veins isn't helping any. But a breath off of the waves of the sea, and you could bowl her over. A ragged breath as she continues to stand her ground, "I.. just.. um -yeah." *fidget-fidget* A fisted hand grips the side of her skirt, crushing the fabric with a sweaty palm. But a glimmer of alarm imbues her voice, "Likes me?" And if her eyes could get any wider, they just did. Gaze flickers from dragon to rider, and when she looks back, it is there. "Ooooo-Ohhhhhh..." His breath doesn't exactly knock her over, but by this point, eyes are squeezed shut, jaw set with a tense line. Wish away. Wish away. Good bye, world. So long, Xanadu. It was nice knowing you.
Caeli sits on the steps, holding her shovel -which she has taken from the stables- in her hands. Just lounging, and procrastinating, as usual. Shifting lazily, she turns to stare over at the two who have just recently come from inside the hold. Standing now, she just watches, from a distance. Yawn, and blink. Spotting the dragon encircling the other girl, she stiffens. Yikes. "Don' eat her!" She waves her arms in distress. Umm...Why would a dragon do that? But apparently Caeli thinks the bronze will. She also hasn't been listening to the conversation. Hmm... Silly Caeli...
V'len glances back, still oblivious. "Yeah, he likes you. Says you smell good or something... although I didn't notice anything." V'len, at this point, is digging through fabric swatches, holding one and then another up the the light of Rubkat, shaking his head, and then stuffing some back in his bag. "No, Yevgeth... you can't keep her..." he comments idly, not really paying attention at all. "Hmm... a provincial tapestry with a watered ramie? Is that too over the top?" He turns, two swatches in hand, eyeing the girl, waving them. V'len just glances over to the other girl with a strange expression. "He eats herdbeast, the occasional wherry, and any cinnamon roll in sight. But not girls. Not to worry."
Yevgeth just snakes his head 'round Taire all the more, encircling her completely this time. The tip of his tail flicks with excitement, as he's prone to do, and he rumbles - a deep rumble that starts in his belly and seems to travel around his neck encircling the girl until it escapes from his nostrils. Tickling Taire's consciousness is the unmistakable but astounding phrase << I want her, V'len. >>
Is it over yet? All of this warmth stealing over her -she could bit deep in the dragon's tummy now. Or Taire could still be outside with a dragon's neck and head curling 'bout her. Eyes continue to squeeze shut with the upmost sincerity for the fact that she would rather not see that horrible gaze or those venom-dripping teeth or the slime-coated skin. Banish away all thought. "I'm in a lush green meadow... with gossamer wings and sun-gazers... a bubbling brook is just over there." A hand reaches out to point, brushing against dragon-skin. In that instant, eyes open wide. Nope, same old place. Same giant dragon 'bout to chomp her down in one swallow. Her voice wavers, "Please don't eat me." The word 'please' doesn't often leave this girl's mouth.
V'len finally turns, regarding his dragon. "Well, if you insist. I suppose you can have her, too." V'len glances over towards the girl, making eye contact with those widened eyes. "He's been collecting people lately. Picks 'em out of the most unlikely places. He says he likes them, and then wants them. There's just no telling him no." V'len chuckles, gazing at another set of swatches. "It looks like you're his latest victim, hmm?" His eyes twinkle with merriment and he knits his brows, regarding the swatches. "Floral really doesn't keep with the theme I had in mind... nope..."
Caeli puts her arms down, and blinks, not fully understanding what the rider has said. "Doesn't eat girls? Ohhhh. Yeah." The girl giggles nervously. Whoops. "I knew that." Of course she did. Moving a little ways to the sides, she blinks as she hears what the other girl says, albeit it /was/ a bit muffled. "Are yeh seein' things?" It's not often someone talks about meadows and wings and such when they're in a courtyard. "Or somethin'..." Caeli adds, just to be safe. With a shrug, and fake nonchalance she moves closer to the group, and peers at the rider's swatches. "Stripes are always good." Eww? Yeah, well, that's Caeli's two marks.
Taire gapes openmouthed at the rider. An absolute nightmare of apocalyptic proportions, this is. And he is still going on about decorations. Doesn't he realize she is about to become draconic lunch? Doesn't he have a single inkling as to the mortal peril she is in? No, of course not. He is a rider, thus an accomplice to this terrible deed. "Wh- Wh- What is 'e gonna do with me?" She really doesn't wanna know her of her impending doom, but the question bares asking nonetheles.
"Stripes? No... too difficult to match. And all those horizontals destroy the lines of the area, you know? I'm going for loftiness." V'len's discussing decorating... this is true. But he does hear Taire's impassioned question and he turns with a little laugh. "What is he going to do with you? Oh, only put you in a barracks and then have you parade out on the sands when his eggs hatch. You do want to go, don't you?" And then back to the swatches... oh... paisley!
Taire continues her stoic stance as the others blather on over color-schemes and china patterns or whatever it is they are going on about. She has half a mind to stroll over there and toss those swatches, be them crushed velvet or lime plaid, in the midden heap. A flair of annoyance begins to impinge upon her apparent fear, lips pursing. "So you're sayin' 'e won't be eatin' me?" She wants to make this point blatantly sure.
V'len does put the swatches down now, with a laugh. "You're being asked to stand on the sands for Yevgeth's clutch, girl. Oh, and Suyinth's too." He keeps forgetting. "Do you want to come, or is Xanadu Hold such a fascinating place that you've not explored all the wonders yet and you want to still hang around?" Yevgeth wuffles again, nosing her gently. Just in case she was thinking of saying no.
No. See, he isn't getting the point at all. Taire casts a side-long glance at the dragon...his gaze not near as bad as she was initially imagining... But that’s not the point. And that would be, "If'n 'e won't eat me, you bet." Simple. Straight-forward. Touches on keeping herself alive. A good bargaining statement, all in all.
Caeli has disconnected.
V'len grins broadly. "Thought so. It's the usual answer. Though why he'd want you, I'm not sure. I'm never sure, actually. But climb up." V'len's stuffed the swatches in his bag and is clamboring up the straps already, holding out a hand. "Quite a day for you... to actually /ride/ The Magnificent Yevgeth? And to stand on the sands for his clutch?"
Taire eyebrow-arches quite dramatically. "Climb up?" This would require her to actually sit upon... "Ye don't sit near the head, do you?" This is her upmost concern at this moment. And she watches with wide-eyed amazement as he is already scampering up. "Yeah, quite a day." Of horrors unimagined.
V'len pulls himself up Yevgeth's massive shoulder, settling between his neck ridges and strapping himself firmly in.
You clamber up Yevgeth's neck and settle between two neckridges.
V'len nods, waggling his fingers. "Up! In back of me, actually." He pats the spot on Yevgeth waiting just for her. "It's a thrill like no other, and I appreciate that you're in awe, flabberghasted and all that at the chance of riding this incredible bronze, but I do have duties back at the weyr. So...?" V'len raises his brow, wiggling his fingers to her to grasp his hand and climb on up.
Taire is biting her bottom lip as she reaches the top, taking his had with the offered lift. But she did make it. And there was no swooning or crying or flat-out screeching at all. Nope, just stoic silence as she deliberately made her way up. As she reaches the top and stradles the dragon, her skirt hitches up to her knees, showing off a fine pair of burdandy and grey striped stockings. And just as immediately, arms are reaching as if to clutch about his waist for a death-grip. "L-lets just get this done with, oh-okay?" Head drops to his back, so she can't see a thing.
With a powerfull thrust, you're sent skywards.
V'len turns to the girl and shouts into the wind. "Ever been *between*? It's quite a terrifying experience, actually! Here we go!" His voice is merry and bright, as if discussing decorating schemes again.
Suddenly the sky is berift of the regal splendor of
You backwing down to a landing in the field of the bowl, plucking land from air.
Yevgeth backwings and lands gracefully in the bowl, but not before trumpeting an earsplitting announcement of his arrival to all assembled. The landing is nearly impactless and V'len is already working the straps before the wings are folded. "An incredible experience, no?" Not a doubt she's thrilled out of her mind, in awe of the wonder of flight and all that stuff.
Taire is trembling like the proverbial leaf as they make it to the Weyr. Like a bovine caught in the glowlight, she near to topples from the dragon in her haste to get off. "Sure." Somehow or another, she doesn't exactly seem all that sparkly. *gulp* A shiver ripples across her, causing wherry-bumps to perk up across her skin, cooled from both the change in weather and the experience.
You unstrap and dismount.
V'len unstraps himself and carefully makes his way down Yevgeth's huge shoulder, landing with a quiet thud on the ground.
V'len is all talkative and bubbly. "Well, I really do need to get back to the sands, but let me show you the ropes! Oh, I remember the day I was searched well! It was the start of such an adventure! Of course, I never realized I'd be the one to impress The Magnificient Yevgeth, but there's wonders in store for all of the candidates!" He's a regular bronzeriding Pollyanna at the moment. "If you just follow me to the candidate barracks, I'll show you the lovely facilities that have been arranged for you and your cohorts." He beams, waving her along.
**Much walking to the Candidae barracks.
You duck warily into the Candidate barracks.
V'len beams as he enters the room. "Ah, such memories! An amazing time... but only if you get a bunk away from someone who doesn't snore. You might want to ask." He points to the various cots. "Just choose one, and make sure you look at the tackboard. Such an exciting day... although I have to say, I still don't know what Yevgeth sees in you..." Not that V'len's ever been one for tact.
Taire sort of tags along behind him, arms clutched close as her body is racked occasionally with the cooler-weather shiver, and possibly other reasons as well. Eyes flicker here and there as she fairly devours the sights with utter and complete wonder. Her gaze scowers the room, just the dorm back at home. No blood-stained walls. "Sure... thank you." She thinks.
V'len ducks out into the lower caverns.
The Great Courtyard (Holdside)
Expansive: Xanadu Hold's courtyard stretches out toward the Weyr and lake, a work of smooth, artfully interlocking flagstones. The air here is cooled by an almost constant breeze off the water, creating a center for work, as well as relaxation. Steps lead down to a sandy beach from the courtyard, giving easy access to fishing and watersport. The hold squats at the far end, Weavers' Hall just beside; a few round tables and chairs sit equidistant to both, among a sprinkling of potted plants.
Spring sunshine continues to warm the days of the southern continent, each night bringing the welcome light showers that feed the quickly growing vegetation. The flowers on the trees that bloomed early start to droop, hinting at the promise of new fruit.
You see Neijin and Yevgeth here.
Caeli and V'len are here.
Obvious exits:
Beach Stairway Great Doors Path Covered Walkway (To Smithcraft) Center Courtyard Stables
You step outside through the Great Doors.
Yevgeth
External regality punctuates this dazzling dragon's form and carriage, each feature defined in looming exaggeration from the too-sharp point of lapis-coated muzzle to the too-far reach of russet-touched tail. Burnished bronze gleams over the proud arch of neck, further polishing the ridges that prominently protrude down the long length of his spine. More bright bronze shimmers along his flanks, circumscribing the brawn of his barreled chest before trailing upwards to blend into the velvet purple that shadows the sails of his widely vaulted wings. Heavy talons crown front and rear limbs in lucent emerald, discarding metallic brilliance in favor of precious stone.
Yevgeth bears expertly sewn burgundy straps, lined with soft alpaca wool. Fine stitching and careful construction betray his lifemate's former weaver trade. The straps are done in exquisite taste - except for a small discrete section on the back strap where it hugs his lower neck - chartreuse? It seems this is V'lens' concession to Yevgeth's demand for /something/ 'bright and pretty' on his straps.
Astride the magnificent Yevgeth: V'len
Yevgeth is 4 turns 11 months and 14 days old.
Sky Above the Great Courtyard (Holdside)
Circling above the hold proper, the general clamor and hub-bub of everyday hold life is easily discernable. Directly beneath you is the gargantuan flagstone courtyard. A courtyard that is at least several acres long and wide and serves many purposes. A glimpes of the smaller, much inner courtyard is seen. The smaller courtyard busy with dining folks, playing children, and general trading. To the east the beginnings of the bay.
Spring sunshine continues to warm the days of the southern continent, each night bringing the welcome light showers that feed the quickly growing vegetation. The flowers on the trees that bloomed early start to droop, hinting at the promise of new fruit.
Obvious exits:
Courtyard Sky Above the Beaches Center Air
You wing into the air from the courtyard below.
Yevgeth as he flashes into **BETWEEN**
Black, blacker, blackest,
And cold beyond frozen things,
Where is -=between=- when there is naught
To Life but fragile dragon wings?
Central Bowl
The elliptical bowl, extending northeast and southwest at its widest points, sees its smooth shape flawed only by the fall of a ancient landslide's earth behind the glittering lake. Opposite, the crater opens a massive aerial tunnel into the northern Hatching Grounds, below Tooth Crag's imperial jut and, further down the rim, the monumental Star Stones. The weyrling barracks and feeding grounds lie off to the west, balanced by the east's living caverns, and the entire bowl rests beneath the glorious arch of sky.
The brilliant colours of the gold, red and orange leaves burst forth from every tree and the sweet smell of late harvest hangs in the air as autumn in all its glory comes to Fort.
You see Memnoth, Starburst, Noswaith, Ikath, Llyweilan, Celaenoth, and Alayth here.
Obvious exits:
Living Caverns Hatching Grounds Weyrling Area Feeding Grounds Lake Northeastern Curve Southwestern Curve
Central Bowl
Candidate Barracks
This vaguely rectangular room contains cots, cots, and more cots, which either stand in neat, pristine rows, a clothespress at each foot, or in jumbled confusion, depending on the current residents. Metal brackets mark the smooth walls every four cotlengths, hosting shieldable glows that, when open, shine gentle circles on the low ceiling and worn floor. A desk holds a prominent place at the back of the room, opposite the lower caverns' exit and below the large slateboard that lists the room's 'occupants' and their assigned chores. Beside the slate hangs a wide 'tackboard', pinned full of important notices for the candidates to read.
OOC Note: Be sure to 'look tackboard' & 'look occupants' for more information.
You see Death, Sidhe, Neko, Adonis, King, Vana, Jayed, and Twyll here.
V'len is here.
