Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 17, 2011 12:38:37 GMT -5
Qosis laid out his right leg behind him, silhouette forming a line from his extended toes to the top of his head. He bent till his fingers were pressing into the floor of the Bowl, left leg folded almost to his chest. He leaned his left knee forward and the muscle through his hip stretched. Strange as the maneuver looked-- like a racer's starting pose save the trailing leg --it made the difference between being merely strong, and being capable of using his own muscles without stiffness or shortness of motion. It was the only part of his exercise he was really willful about.
The method had come from a healer trying to prove her worth while hitching a ride on his Northern Continent caravan. Naturally that meant he dismissed it till many Turns later, when he was working himself to a concrete-like inner texture and the more obvious stretches were no longer sufficing. Now it was as everyday as the running, the lifting, and whatever else scratched his compulsion the right way. He certainly had enough time on Rest Days now for a full routine. He had for weeks.
As soon as he finished these stretches, the tail-end of his physical activity, he would need something else to keep himself occupied. So he had taken on a new hobby; Tasia would be proud. Or not a hobby so much as necessary practice, drilling on things he was already comfortable with till they became blind, instinctive habit. A few feet away from him rested a pile of shredded riding straps awaiting mending. He did not get to keep his finished products, nor did he think even a Weyrling would tolerate them. But the Weyrfolk were using the lengths of leather for something after he passed them on. Perhaps breaking them again and giving them to some other Candidate for practice.
He switched legs and repeated the stretch, gaze rising expectantly to the massive weyrs of the northern wall. The nice thing about all his "hobbies" was that they could all be practiced outside. Today, as in all other recent days, he dared infringe on the Weyrlings' bank of the waterway just so he could have an unimpeded view of the Sands' main entrance-- and the queen weyrs studded in the rock above it. Granted, Queen Callistath might take an upper access and he would miss her ponderous descent to Clutch no matter what he did. But the view remained spectacular in the meantime.
Ascending to his full height, the dragon Candidate laid his palm over his right shoulder and rotated it, glancing down at the hard edges of musculature waxing into view beneath the thin red cloth of his tunic. He swiped the straps and sewing supplies off the ground and angled for the sunniest, most comfortable spot on the shoreline to begin practicing.
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
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Post by Cathaline on May 18, 2011 3:00:59 GMT -5
Kalenna would never presume to remove a record from its sacred place, but if she hoped to remain at Dalibor long - and perhaps become a goldhandler soon enough - she needed to learn more. Her interview with the Weyrwoman and the alphahandler had certainly showed her that; she'd found her own answers severely lacking at times. Therefore, she'd spent as much time as she was allowed among the records, memorizing names of handlers and whers, wingleaders and wingseconds, all those who were important to Dalibor. Where they'd transferred from, if they had, or when they'd Impressed, and from whose clutch.
One thing she had not done, yet, despite being so close to the Weyrwomens' quarters and therefore the Sands, was try to have a look at the gold egg resting there. Staring and making herself anxious would not help her in the least.
However, turns and turns of Candidacy drew her now just as surely as she'd come in her youth, though she would not enter the stands, of course. It wasn't far out of her way to walk past the entrance to the Sands on her way to - wherever. At the moment, she had little to do. She'd finished a meal and ought to have headed to bed, to be prepared for the chores she had upcoming that night, but she knew she was too awake to sleep. Better to work off that energy first.
Though her head was crammed full of information, she did not fail to observe the tall young man by the river. Her brow furrowed; this was the weyrlings' side, but he was not accompanied by a dragonet. With his height, he was quite distinctive, and she was certain she'd seen him in the Candidates' Barracks, too.
Well, it was hardly her place to scold, though she did take an interest in what he was up to. Wandering closer, she paused a decent distance away and said, "Forgive the intrusion. May I inquire as to what you're doing?" Lest he snap like that bluehandler had, she added, "That is, I can see what you're doing, but I wondered why you chose to do it here." A mild tone, not judging, but she half-expected to be chased away. It would be no skin off her nose. These younger lads certainly did seem to have ego problems, and she wasn't going to lose any sleep over it.
Okay, maybe she was being a little judgmental. But she did not allow it to show.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 18, 2011 12:34:51 GMT -5
He had only just finished trimming the loose stitches from the first strap when Kalenna approached. Qosis picked the cut string from in-between the frayed joining of leather while she spoke to him, laying down his scissors before he looked up. And up. Sitting on the shallow decline beside the water gave him a rare chance at a perspective that went toes to head rather than the other way around. Kalenna had stopped far enough away though that the effect was not as exaggerated as Qosis would have liked.
Still, due to the angle he could stop his eyes somewhat lower than her face and resemble an attentive man regardless. She was not really dressed for his perusal. Exhaling quietly through his nose, Qosis raised his focus to her shoulder. No knot. He took on her face last, admiring the concise, strong lines of her for as long as he dared before looking back down at his straps and hiding a smile under the motion.
"Come a little closer, love. I didn't quite catch that," he said, and began threading a sewing needle with unobtrusive brown thread. Despite the size of his hands, and the shortness of one rather crucial digit, Qosis was dextrous with his weapon of choice and quickly found the first hole to pierce in the riding strap. He glanced up after he had sewn through three leathery wounds to see if Kalenna had heeded him.
Regardless of whether she had or not, Qosis met her eye then with a smile half-formed. "I am watching the most beautiful women in the Weyr," he answered. Then with a pointed shift of his focus off her face, he looked back to the queens' ledges. "Figure this sevenday or the next, Callistath will come down to lay. I want to see her. And I want to see the eggs." His sewing did not really stop during this latter talk, eyes occasionally dropping to confirm the position of the next needle target. "If you're lost..." Qosis tilted his head westward. "Kitchen is that way." He smiled lightly and continued his work, deigning an occasional glance Kalenna's way. "Or is there something else you want, my lady?"
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on May 18, 2011 14:36:10 GMT -5
Although Kalenna could not be certain, at such an angle, that his eyes had lingered rather overlong on her chest, it was quite obvious once he spoke that he was even worse than a grumpy wherhandler - he was a flirt. Oh, she couldn't stand men like that, or women either for that matter. Perhaps it was a little irrational of her - how exactly was one supposed to find a weyrmate if one shunned all communication that might let another know one was interested? - but she had never yet met someone who tried to flirt with her immediately upon meeting and did not go on to cause some sort of trouble. Never with her, but with others. She'd seen too many crying, distracted young (and not-so-young) people to approve. Especially in a dragon Candidate, for she knew she'd have met him before now if he was standing for whers. Especially this near to the Pass.
She remained impassive until his eyes were on his work, then allowed a brief look of irritation to cross her features. Attractive though he was, he was also far too young for her even if she didn't find the personality he'd shown so far to be repugnant.
But there was no point in making enemies; she stepped closer and dropped down on the bank with relative ease. She might not be as madly muscle-bound as Qosis was, but she cared for her own fitness. Nice of him to transfer the supposed compliment to Callistath.
"I do not think she will do so, if she can help it, until the gold wher has hatched," Kalenna said calmly. "But it is hard now, and should do so soon. Is it your first time Standing?" Entirely possible for an older Candidate to be just as excited, she knew, but there was a sort of look to the newcomers.
With a shake of her head, she said, "I've just been there. I was merely taking a walk. I can leave you to your work, if you prefer."
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 18, 2011 16:13:08 GMT -5
The Dragon Candidate kept an eye on Kalenna till she had been successfully reeled in, and sat before him. Then he immediately looked back down to his strap, ignoring her. His steady downward gaze and the gentle movements of his muscular arms masked the ripple of conflict descending his face at mention of the extra egg. Dark brows plucked to shapeliness contorted above his eyes even after the thoughts passed, while he was still wondering how a drudge managed such information.
"I expect she'll want the Sands clear," he agreed, a chilly note lining the last word. "It will be my first and last Standing, if my Turns are right." Qosis chuckled humorlessly. "I got to the continent just after Kalith's. Search picked me up a couple days later. A Turn to prepare is not all terrible," he mused, stretching the strap he had mended till his arms quivered and then showing it to the drudge. "As it turns out there is a fair amount about dragons that someone who never met one does not know." The trader picked up another broken strap. "I have it figured now though."
He only smiled at her for the last comment-- or was it a request? The sun was pressing down on his light brown skin, waiting for the change in season to turn him dark. Rukbat's immediate glow made the pale blue weariness smudging a crescent under each eye briefly more impressive. Then Qosis ducked his head a little toward the strap and the direct illumination passed onto his hair, spotting the brown strands blond.
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on May 18, 2011 16:33:38 GMT -5
Reeled in had nothing to do with it, though of course an apparently-egotistical young man like him would think so. Seeing him close up, Kalenna's first impression was only reinforced. Here was someone who cared a great deal about how he looked, and that, to her, combined with the instant flirting, made her certain that he wasn't cultivating those muscles because he wanted to be strong. Maybe some women would melt at the sight of him, but Kalenna's thirty-five turns had taught her that such people were dangerous.
She'd had ten turns to prepare and still nothing to show for it, though her eyes wandered back to the entrance to the stands. So close to that gold egg, yet so far. She would be happy with any wher if she could not Impress the young queen, but it would be a long time before there were wher eggs on the sands again - at least, a decent number; if the white or the grey clutched, or the greens, there was a chance. "No," she agreed. "A turn is a good amount of time to be in Candidacy." Shards, but she was tired of Candidacy. "I wish you luck with Standing. I'm sure you've picked up enough by now to be an excellent rider."
All lies, really. Men like that only caused drama and tension and could bring down a wing. Perhaps if he did Impress, his dragon would balance him - it tended to work that way, but it was no guarantee.
"I only just arrived two sevendays ago," she added. "But then, I am no stranger to Weyrs." She was a stranger to everything else, admittedly. "What brought you to the continent in the first place?"
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 18, 2011 17:24:14 GMT -5
"You're sure? But you have only just met me." Qosis raised those smooth black eyebrows at her. He had heard and produced too many false niceties to let them pass now without comment. He winked at the woman, then stabbed his needle into the next strap. "If you have only just been brought-- it's not for Callistath, I'm sure." The trader had a chuckle at his new false friend's expense. He wondered how her line of thought on this conversation was progressing. Probably not as stately and neat as his stitches in the leather!
Qosis gentled his amusement, meeting her eye again at last. "Two sevendays? Unless Dalibor has acquired a sudden need for extra help, you are for the little girl on the Sands then. I was thinking her only connection to the Weyr would be her Handler, but if that position is a transfer too, then it will be new blood all around." He squinted, trying to see past their bare minutes of contact to determine her suitability. "New could be good," he allowed. "I do not know if whers should be bonded so late just because they can," was his only qualifier for now. "But I understand there are political ramifications involved."
He finished the second strap and buckled it to the first, then started in on a third. "Brought my caravan to settle the routes here. We were from the North." He tore a great tangle of loose strings from the leather with a sharp tug of his fist, then examined the frayed holes his action left behind. "I assume they are still well."
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on May 18, 2011 19:19:21 GMT -5
"I have, however, met the Candidatemasters," Kalenna said dryly. "I cannot imagine they would allow a full turn to go by without ensuring you were prepared." There were always one or two Candidates on the sands who were new-arrived and hadn't been to many, if any, lessons; Kalenna always hoped that they, if they Impressed on the first try, would be all right. Though she would never have the personal experience, she knew caring for a dragonet was time-consuming and hard to get used to, and that on top of having to learn so much about riding...well.
With a shake of her head, Kalenna said, "It's been many turns since any dragonet would even look twice at me. I stand for whers now. For that one, you are correct." Assuming the Weyrwoman and the alphahandler hadn't found something to dislike about her so much that they barred her from the sands, but she rather thought not. She would have her chance, and if she failed, she would wait. And wait, and wait. It felt like her entire life had been waiting.
Kalenna shrugged at that. "I have not yet ascertained who will be Standing for her with me, but I think most of us are fairly new." She thought there was one young girl who had been in the Barracks awhile; at least her experience at Dalibor might counter her age, if she Impressed. To Kalenna, it was not a competition. The wher would choose who she would choose. The only thing that concerned her, should she not Impress, was the calibre of the handler she someday hoped to work under.
Kalenna gave a little smirk at that. "Most whers, I think, shouldn't bond quite so old as me," she allowed. "It is different with a gold - and under the circumstances. I would think a more mature and experienced handler would be an asset, not a curse." Sure, she - and therefore the gold - might not be around quite as long as an adolescent who Impressed, but she had plenty of years left to her yet. "It is all somewhat political, and I'm not privy to all of it, of course. But it is only up to the Weyr who Stands, not who Impresses."
Ah, a Trader. Kalenna was not the world's biggest fan of Traders. They performed a necessary service, but as a lifelong weyrbrat whose sense of community was heightened and whose sense of duty included all of Pern, the wandering holdless whose only responsibility was to a caravan bothered her. They were untrustworthy. Still, if the man became a rider, he could still make something real of himself in her eyes - and her eyes were hardly the ones that mattered.
"I came from Igen Weyr," she said, doling out one more piece of information about herself. "It is good to hear that this area is becoming better-integrated." A frown crossed her face at the sight of the fraying. How did anyone manage to make such a mess of straps? As someone who had never had much care for family, she simply nodded to that. No surprise he hadn't seen them in a turn, or even heard from them.
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 18, 2011 20:24:23 GMT -5
"There's a surprising number of things you learn outside the official tread," Qosis countered, noting how quickly she clarified where her praise was directed when pressed. Better that than persisting in illusion. "I am sure I will be excellent too," he assured her. Maybe he could get her to roll her eyes, rattle that placid facade. To many people, a man could only experience confidence till it took to the spoken word.
He raised the mangled strap like a chalice to toast. "Let us hope she chooses wise and true," he said, though his tone twisted mid-sentence, as if saying something other than his first impulse. "And that the ones who are left know how to cook and mind the creche," he murmured in recovery, then glanced at the strap when he noticed her expression towards it. "I am not perfect yet," he noted with a grin.
Retracting the strap to his chest, he set about patching the weak portions of the leather before sewing the individual faces together. His scissors flashed in the sun as he trimmed each tear into a clean gap. "Igen has a lot of interesting people. Not the Weyr-- I did not go there. But in the desert, where all resources are precious, the disparities between holds take on unique flavors. The people have strange ways. I miss the color in the inhabited places too. Every cot an oasis! You came all the way from Igen for a wher because you could not have a dragon?"
Qosis laid out his third strap and buckled it to the others, then added a fourth and fifth to the assembly after checking them for tears. He dragged the straps up above his head, trying to visualize where each loop would wrap around a dragon. Through the hall of hanging straps he could still see the queen weyrs. "The fledging Weyrling's straps," he observed fondly.
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on May 18, 2011 22:14:17 GMT -5
It had been a very long time since Kalenna had rolled her eyes, even when she was sure she wasn't being observed; immaturity would serve her neither as Headwoman, nor as a handler, once she'd decided to shift the direction of her life a bit. She was no stranger to dealing with the arrogant or the young, and her only reaction was a tiny smile at his self-praise. Part of her hoped this man managed to end up with a dragon that would bring him down to size - a pink, maybe. He looked like the sort who would, for all his bravado, faint when presented with a sweet, good-natured female to bond with.
The change in tone surprised her, and her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to figure him out. Did he have some sort of problem with whers? Many did, finding them ugly and lesser, and as a potential rider, he likely thought himself above a mere wher Candidate. "I am quite sure we are all capable of doing our chores until another hatching commences, those who stay in the wher program here," she said levelly. "It may be some time, though."
Kalenna squinted out over the water, watching a flash that might have been a fish or merely a trick of the light. "It was a good place to call home," she agreed. "Charming in its way. I could have had a wher there; I could have been Headwoman. But after more than thirty turns in the same place, even one such as I might like a change." Going into all of her reasons for transfer was more than she was willing to admit to anyone, much less a young man she already had cause to dislike. Let him dismiss it as wanderlust. As a Trader, he probably knew all about that - and it was the only kind of lust he was ever likely to see from her.
With a nod, she said, "That explains why they are in such poor condition." Glancing over at the weyrlings' barracks, she said, "And there will be much use for them soon enough, when there are new dragonets. How many eggs do you think Callistath likely to clutch?"
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 19, 2011 13:11:44 GMT -5
Qosis offered a watery smile when the Wher Candidate turned around and answered his observations as if they were bald compliments. He lowered the repaired riding straps to his lap, then began going over the buckle joints themselves for signs of needed repair.
"My mother left her hold in search of something new too," he answered her spoken desire for change. He did not elaborate on how that had worked out for mommy dearest save the self-evident result sitting in front of Kalenna. But his mother had never been in line for any position of power at any time in her life. Giving up any other wher, and more importantly an opportunity at Headwoman, for this chance... Qosis frowned at the other Candidate. "You would do more good as a Handler than as a Headwoman?" He tapped the strap segment he was holding against his chest. "I will do more for Pern as a rider than as a trader. It will help more. The Weyr needs me." Xirofel was right: he had fallen completely. He had lodged his loyalties in the flawed stone of Dalibor. Qosis squinted up at Callistath's weyr.
He laid the finished straps aside. "I only know the last Hatching had twenty-seven to start with," he grumbled, gritting his teeth before he continued. "Golds are the original queens. Callistath will lay more. Thirty-six for her at least! I have never seen the Records Room, so I go by what they say in lessons. And they say the Pass makes them lay more eggs." The Dragon Candidate watched his far older female counterpart for a few seconds, the most attention he had paid her save that initial lingering. He lifted his chin. "If you are only here because you want to be, and Igen needs a good Headwoman, you should go back there."
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on May 20, 2011 4:41:32 GMT -5
It was not as if Kalenna had not considered all the ramifications of her decision. She wasn't some wayward child trying to find herself, and she answered him quite levelly. "Igen has a good Headwoman - and a good Assistant Headwoman, too. It will likely be many turns before either dies or leaves her position, and I would not wish that on either simply to have more responsibility for myself. So yes - I could do more good as a Handler, barring exceptional circumstances occurring at Igen. If they did, and I had not yet bonded, naturally I would return. But even if I do not Impress the gold here, I believe Dalibor has more need of handlers because it is newer yet, and facing its first Pass as a Weyr. I think it needs me."
Her eyes lifted to the same weyr, though with far less interest than he had, since she of course knew that Callistath was not currently carrying her life partner. Hers, if it existed, was either already on the sands, or waiting for a female wher to run. "Longer flights also make for larger clutches," Kalenna observed, "and I have heard that this was a good one. Thirty-six is a good bet; perhaps even more." At the mention of the records room, she momentarily shut her eyes, calling up information she'd memorized just in case it came in handy someday. "Callistath laid only twenty-one for her first clutch - but as her first it is likely it was not such a good flight as this. Kalith's last clutch was her largest." It was, in fact, somewhat worrisome. Dalibor still had relatively low numbers for its size, especially going into the Pass, yet its queens had so far laid small or medium-sized clutches. Would Callistath be the one to change that?
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 20, 2011 22:04:49 GMT -5
The sunlight entering each green eye had been obscured by clouds, and so passed the challenge flashing in them over the subject of Igen's Headwoman. Qosis did not persist in that vein, but raised his eyebrows as she echoed, strong and clear, his own sense of being needed by the Weyr. He sat back, gaze flicking up and down her face-- and only her face --and his brows wrinkling at the notion of whers being particularly helpful in the Pass.
"Women belong with queens," he rumbled at last, digesting her ambition down to its most palatable tenet. Qosis smiled with his lips, but his eyes did not follow. He understood by now that Dalibor's sole queenhandler was a man. Part of him considered it one of the reasons the queen had failed to manage her own wherets at the last Hatching. There had been other issues, ones he had not been as interested in after Callistath's Flight, but they resulted in that shiny new Gold egg on the Sands. But those sentiments tested against his own experience-- though he had not served a single new wher to the world for it. "The Flight...was nice," he clarified her description unnecessarily, a twitch in one cheek momentarily unsettling the line of his lips.
When Kalenna's eyes closed in a tell-tale mark of thought, Qosis' became bright and his gaze keen with sudden interest. The clutch logistics mattered little. He rose to his feet, pressing the sewing supplies into various pouches on his belt. He folded the riding straps down to a quarter of their original length and slung them over his shoulder. As soon as he had a hand free he stuck it out to the Wher Candidate. "You have been to the Records," he praised, voice throbbing sincerity. "I have not yet seen which tunnel leads from the ground level to the Room. I am so curious..." He left off what he was curious about and smiled friendship at Kalenna. "Let's walk there."
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on May 20, 2011 22:18:03 GMT -5
Women belong with queens. Oh, she'd heard that sort of sentiment before - especially from Holders and Traders who ended up at the Weyr, who tended to be more closed-minded. Needless to say, it was not an assumption which Kalenna had ever bought into herself, and after thirty-five turns, she knew it was not an assumption that she alone could change. Trying to argue the point that a woman could do all that a man could do, with someone like this, would only reinforce his beliefs.
Shards, she really hoped this muscle-bound apparent misogynist Impressed a pink. The irony would be sweet.
But she was not and never would be a rider, and whatever beliefs he held couldn't truly affect her. So though she considered his words and judged them accordingly, she took his hand and let him assist her to her feet. His intense interest in the Records didn't erase the other impressions he'd made on her during their conversation, but so far as she knew, there was no reason to keep Candidates out of the Records; at Igen, occasionally, they had been given chores to do there.
"It's this way," she said, smiling back, but there was no real light behind it. There was too much working against him now for Kalenna to like him at this point - he was a Trader, he had odd views of women, and he'd flirted, ugh. But rudeness was undeserved, and she never had a problem going back to the Records to work on memorizing still more information about Dalibor. "In amongst the Weyrwomens' weyrs. It was one of the first places I went when I arrived - there is precious little time before that egg will hatch, and much to learn." It was also where her interview had been held, naturally. She set off in the proper direction, glancing over at the Hatching Sands as she went. The call would come soon, and she was determined to be ready.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 21, 2011 11:53:18 GMT -5
Despite its lackluster reception, Qosis maintained his smile till Kalenna turned away. Then he dropped it to stand-by, lips reverting to their natural drained neutrality. There was always a slight wilt toward a frown in his face, like his meticulously groomed beard was still too heavy for his jaw. He did not hesitate on the edge of the Bowl exit to the winding tunnels; it was daytime. No monsters out. When the Wher Candidate mentioned their proximity to the Weyrwomen's homes, Qosis reminded himself to visually mark the details of the passages up to the Records. He was an unmistakeable intruder, towering beside his guide.
But Kalenna still had no trouble taking him exactly where he wanted to go. He had not met this section of the Weyr's inner caverns before, either trying too hard or not trying hard enough to see their entrance from the stores. The Wher Candidate wanted to talk along the journey? Qosis would indulge.
"You sound scrupulous," he began, keying down his flattery to bare embellishment of facts. "They've had us learning all the Wingleaders and Wingseconds in the barracks." Or at least the information had been provided, and Qosis had certainly taken advantage. "But you've had to account all that just since you were dropped off. In the North sometimes we came across holds where each person knew the name of every queen and every Bronze on Pern it seemed. Didn't matter if the Bronze was Wingleader or not. ...and the Irons too, sometimes, in the holds where harpers ran thickest."
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Cathaline
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Post by Cathaline on May 21, 2011 21:01:57 GMT -5
Less flattery was all to the good, so far as Kalenna was concerned. She was well aware of most of her good points and flaws, and did not especially care to hear them praised or criticized by those who barely knew her. "A good word for it," she agreed mildly. "Records, and the memorization of important facts, were quite vital in my old position - and the ones I hoped to achieve."
With a nod, she said, "I have not had such a lesson yet, but I have not been here long, of course. So I took it on myself to learn, in case it was needed." It had been, during the interview, and she somewhat grumpily wished that she'd thought to stuff that information into her head earlier. There was just so much of it among the Records; even focusing solely on hides related directly to Dalibor itself was quite the task, and she had to balance it with the usual chores and duties of Candidacy, plus the extra teachings that came with Standing for the gold.
She smiled a bit at the mention of that. "The Harpers want the people to know their saviors," she said. "I approve of it. At the very least people should be aware of the leaders and possible leaders of the Weyr they tithe to." Some, she well knew, didn't bother even with that; she'd seen more than one clueless holdborn Candidate utterly mangle the pronunciation of the name of the queen they were to Stand for.
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Azhdarchid
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 22, 2011 12:12:29 GMT -5
"To put it another way, the Harpers control information and history such that the Pernese are kept docile and supportive of the Weyrs. Theirs is the least violent method of ensuring Weyr survival through the Interval." The stair narrowed to single-file steps; Qosis moved ahead of Kalenna till such time that they broadened again, spilling into a large hall a half-dragonlength from floor to ceiling. All the glows were full and fresh, and a few tasteful hangings visited the walls. None of them, Qosis noticed, were the ancient and delicate affairs from hundreds of Turns past. They were new commissions, for a new Weyr. But had Dalibor been in better standing, it might have earned one or two of the older artifacts.
Or maybe they just did not leave such precious items hanging outside the Records Room proper. He could see a thick swathe of light pouring out a doorway at the end of the hall, flickering occasionally: the Room had at least one occupant already. There were other hallways and entrances speckling the corridor, but he did not know if they all led back to the same place, or if these were the Weyrwomen's accesses.
A breath of caution stilled him beside a tapestry of a full fighting wing, the thirty-three embattled dragons posed by copying older images from the older Weyrs. Often it seemed the smallest dragons had to swirl around the Bronzes and Browns to keep their greater bodies from score, while the larger beasts produced immense spouts of flame that eradicated entire fields of Thread. As strong as they were, they were helpless without the protections of the tiny Greens and Blues. Whoever the artist was, they had not included any of the new colors. There was no precedent.
Whether the formation depicted was even successful or just artistic fancy could only be confirmed by documents in the Room ahead. Wingleaders and Wingseconds would have as much need as the Weyrwomen, the trader sluggishly realized. He frowned. "Of course the Harpers may not have been doing a pitch-perfect job. Did you read yet of the Weyrlings that died this past Summer? Shot by ordinary men, for reasons unknown." Qosis pronounced the last word as if uncertain whether the reasons were truly undiscovered or simply not shared. "And when the Weyr rose to its belated defense, one of the dragons drew human blood, and killed the man. I have never heard any Teaching Ballads about that."
He smiled grimly. But even Qosis did not understand the true extent of Dalibor's unfashionable history. Like a harper tweaked a sour, off-message line from his song, the information had been swept from the teachings of mere Candidates, or deemphasized appropriately. The holdless tilted his head toward the Records door as its inhabitant light flashed around a passing body again. "Seems it is occupied. At least now I know where it is." He grinned at the Wher Candidate, eyes narrowing in an attempt to contain their glimmer of mischief. "You have been most helpful, my lady."
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
cathct[M:50]
Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on May 22, 2011 16:24:55 GMT -5
"Anyone who doesn't support the Weyrs is suicidal," Kalenna said calmly; she would not hear a word against them, and while he had merely "put it another way" and not stated what he believed, it decided her. People weren't supposed to enter the Records without permission, which she had and he did not. She might have allowed him a glimpse and nothing more, but not now.
"I did read of it," she said, pausing behind him and crossing her arms. "Yes, you now know. I do hope you also know that, without being assigned chores or allowed access for other reasons, it is restricted." It was something of a miracle they hadn't been spotted already, and she had little doubt that his attempts to sneak in would be met with capture. She could be in trouble for showing him where the room was as well, of course, but she could accept punishment for that easily enough if it had someone so unsuitable to dragonriding thrown out of Candidacy.
And if he was never caught? Well, she thought all he craved was information, and that ought to be more free than it was. "I would imagine," she added, "that it is hard for a Harper to compose a ballad and introduce it into teaching in less than a turn."
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
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Totes.
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 22, 2011 19:12:56 GMT -5
"Of course," Qosis agreed. He was not unwilling to see why Weyrs needed the cooperation of the people of Pern, he was only cognizant of how it was acquired. Unlike Kalenna, who seemed to take it as a due right that commoners gave their tithe to the Weyr surely as rivers gave their water to the sea. Her honor to her origin and kin-- he liked that. There was no reason to antagonize her further about it. He wished he had met Weyrbreds somewhat earlier in his life; this one seemed more trader than holder. But she had still been bred in stone halls, and she had still left them unbidden.
With only the ghost of a smile for her comment on the Room's accessibility, he nodded at the observation that followed. "Yes, it is very hard. They would have to stop drinking for a night or two at least, for presumably the drinking doesn't help with composition." The Dragon Candidate sought any light of humor on the Wher Candidate's face. Odd that she showed no visible change in attitude at hearing of the assassinations, or the murder of one assassin at dragon claws. Either she already knew about it, but for some reason did not which to say as much, or she had not grasped the tale.
Qosis twisted back toward the stair they had ascended from, riding strap buckles jangling against his back. "Time to return to the Bowl." And he took the first few steps ahead, just in case she did not catch those words either. "First time I spotted a queen wher, that Hatching. I did not realize how big she would be," he added, voice no longer hot with anger nor depressed over it. There was a turn of amusement in him. "I reckon the very largest would have her shoulder to me. The males-- I have seen all those. Running around, being fairly useless most of the time," he announced with a dismissive snort. "Make sure you don't let her mate with a stupid one. Though I suppose a queen does not have as much choice."
He shifted the straps against his shoulder and they sent their metal whispers up the steps again. "She will be maligned for not being a dragon, for being blinded by the sun, for being ugly. Don't take any of that personally. The Weyr can organize their whers how they like, but outside these walls the rest of Pern will not give you reverence over her." Qosis exited to the Bowl, stopping in the sun for another check almost straight up to Callistath's weyr. Then he rolled his eyes impassively toward Kalenna. "Perhaps you should get a harper on that."
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
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Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on May 22, 2011 19:40:47 GMT -5
The way the world worked seemed quite natural and right to Kalenna. The holds gave to the Weyrs, which gave protection and service in return - which they could not offer if they had to provide solely for themselves. She couldn't fathom why anyone would complain about it. They wouldn't have much of anything to speak of if the dragons didn't take to the skies on their behalf, after all.
Kalenna had read of the assassinations and had time to process them, but more to the point, she wasn't shocked or dismayed to hear that a dragon had defended the Weyr. It was all well and good as far as she was concerned. Personally, she would rather such criminals be taken in alive, but when they had already proved willing to murder both dragon and human, why should it be an exceptional horror that a dragon had acted as it had? But she did give a little snort of amusement at his words about Harpers. "Too often true," she agreed. "I do not see why anyone would think drink helps with creativity; you would think they would know it only muddles the mind." It had its time and place, of course, but work - whether composition or other duties - was not that time.
She turned to follow him, listening to his words. "The queens do grow quite large," she said, and while the comment about uselessness rankled - he was a Dragon Candidate and not nocturnal, how would he know? - her thoughts flew to Sagaral, the wherling on crutches because he had probably irked one too many people. A wry smile crossed her lips at the thought. "Upon occasion it is the handler who is useless and not the wher," she said. "But it is never the handler's choice who their wher mates with, and I would not dream of influencing such a decision."
With a shrug, Kalenna said, "I am well aware of how some choose to see whers. I cannot stop them, and such beliefs are nearly impossible to change. It does not make them any less important for that."
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Azhdarchid
Jr. Weyrwoman
azhct[M:-1490]
Totes.
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Post by Azhdarchid on May 23, 2011 11:39:41 GMT -5
"A glass or two may not hurt," Qosis countered in an appeasing tone he thought he had left back at the Gather stalls. "It's overindulgence that becomes problematic." Of course the people of his caravan often thought that despite his size, he was something of an alcoholic lightweight. He had the tendency to burst out laughing halfway through his first drink. Qosk tended to intrude on the activity with a querulous why you bad thing?! The wher had never grasped the difference between mere drinking and drunkenness, and they had agreed the second was forbidden. So her protests always checked him, bringing out his humor in inconvenient places like polite holders' dinner tables and lovers' beds. It was bad for business. That Qosk no longer commented when Qosis indulged at Dalibor was a blessing, if he did not think too hard about it.
But he snickered at Kalenna as the memory touched him. Qosis touched the back of his hand to his mouth until his grin eased. He did not apologize, but he did shake his head. "You've got that right," he said of handler uselessness, mirth draining out of him with the agreement. Her further reply was enough to put a stopper on his amusement. "Well the first step to making it nearly impossible to change what someone thinks is to...claim it's nearly impossible." Qosis smiled, but it wasn't half as bright as before. "What you think about whers was not my point." He did not feel inclined to explain it again though. Maybe it was a matter of experience, or of being more logical than Kalenna was capable under all that refined principle and womanhood.
It was annoying how she managed to not really listen, though. "So you are allowed in the Records Room," he murmured, considering the approval that required from the appropriate high-ranking sources. And the ramifications, should Kalenna actually take the queen. Or rather, he calculated the necessarily present components of her personality for her eligibility to be approved. "I have a mission," Qosis continued, swaying his weight from foot to foot as if antsy to get started. He glanced to the barracks. "With the baths." He tugged at his sweaty tunic with one hand. "And I have to drop the straps off. I know you said you just came from the kitchens, but meet me at the dining hall in a candlemark, Kalenna."
Qosis' olive eyes were keeping to her dark ones, as though to plead his sincerity. "Dinner won't be on for a while, but they have been keeping these jugs of fruit juice around." He lifted both of his callused palms defensively. "Non-alcoholic." The straps immediately began to slip off without his hold, and the trader grabbed them back. "And it's chilled."
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Cathaline
Lady Holder
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Posts: 3,279
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Post by Cathaline on May 23, 2011 15:42:37 GMT -5
"A glass or two may help, in fact, when one needs to relax," she agreed, "but on the whole I do not think indulging assists with work, only with easing the stress of it after. Of course, no one is truly depending on a composition, so if the Harpers think it will help, I suppose it is silly to judge them." She did not partake herself, save at celebratory feasts; it was not something she'd ever enjoyed.
Whatever his point had been was lost on Kalenna, not because she was a woman, but simply because he was the one trying to make it. Of course he thought anyone's mind could be changed; he was the sort of prideful, egotistical young man who thought he could do anything. And if he ever encountered someone he could not talk around, he would naturally blame it on some deep flaw of theirs.
She gave him a wry smile at that. She did not care to obey his orders, but fortunately she had a ready-made and honest excuse. "I'm afraid I can't," she said. "Truth be told, I should have been abed an hour ago - we do not have the same schedule, and I have much to do later tonight." Meetings, lessons, chores. "It was a pleasure to meet you and have a chat, however, and I do hope that you are able to see Callistath fly down to clutch."
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