Like a Drudge in the Holder's Office (Kyril)

[4horseshowgirl4]

"Ouch! Shard it!" B'nyur cursed in frustration, kicking the pile of metal at his feet. It was late autumn, and his herb garden was withering from the cold. He knew it was normal for the plants to go into a dormant stage when the days shortened, but he also knew that some of the herbs he had gathered from the warmer southern continent would never survive the frigid conditions. Finding them and collecting them on an entirely different continent had been difficult enough, much less all the planting-- B'nyur didn't want to have to do the same thing every spring. Now that he thought about it, he should have collected seeds; but it was too late for that now. Anyway, some of these plants wouldn't seed until they were more than a Turn old. Besides, what good were dormant herbs? You couldn't cultivate them. B'nyur wasn't confident that his stores would last him until next spring, especially with so many new Weyrlings. They tended to hurt themselves startlingly often.

Hence, the metal. Some Master over at the Healerhall had advised B'nyur to put these metal panes up to reflect and magnify the weaker winter sunlight, creating a warmer and more hospitable environment for the plants. B'nyur had agreed, thinking that it was a clever idea at the time. So, he'd hopped over to the Minehall (he didn't know the location of the Smithhall) and picked these up. The thin metal panels were ideal. They were highly reflective, and B'nyur was staring at the small red mark on his hand where the hot metal had burned him when he'd tried to pick it up. Apparently, metal absorbed heat. Who knew?

However, B'nyur had no clue how exactly he was supposed to set these up. He was fairly certain he needed to attach them somehow to the ridge, but he would still have to be able to take them down in the summer. He didn't want to cook his herbs when Rukbat grew stronger! He might as just well ignore his precious garden for the winter! There had to be some way to install some sort of system to easily set up, adjust, and remove the panes... but B'nyur was a Dragonhealer, not a Metalcrafter, and he was lost as to what, exactly, it was that would accomplish this.

B'nyur's figure, kneeling up by the rim of the Weyrbowl, with Blue Oveth dozing in the sun nearby, had become a familiar image. The small herb garden was his pride and joy, besides his dragon and the infirmary, of course. It took a lot of work to keep it maintained, as the sunny spot on the northern part of the rim, well-protected from the harsh winds and blowing rains that destroyed so many plants, seemed to be a favorite spot of weeds. However, despite his generally lazy nature and his habit of blowing off wing drills, B'nyur found that he enjoyed the work. The fresh air and the time spent alone with his dragon was a welcome break from the stuffy atmosphere and constant crowding of the infirmary. Though he loved what he did, B'nyur relished the respite. This garden was providing the infirmary with most of the herbs it needed-- numbweed, redwort, needlethorn, even a patch of carefully-guarded fellis-- which was essential to the Weyr's health, as many of the herbs were not native to the Western Continent.

Mine? Perhaps you should take a break. We've been up here for three candlemarks!

[/color] Oveth said imploringly. Unlike B'nyur, he rather enjoyed the company of others, though His was plenty nice. He was used to the hustle and bustle of the infirmary, and there was only so much napping a dragon could do. {I can't, Oveth!} B'nyur said, slightly more snappy than he tended to be. {Winter's almost here! These herbs will die soon!} Oveth was not smart enough to anticipate the change of seasons, but B'nyur's reasoning mollified him. He settled back into the small recess of the rim that he'd made his personal spot while B'nyur was working. Okay. Do you need help? You don't seem to be getting very far on your own,[/color] the Blue said kindly. {I don't need help! I can do this on my own! It's my job!} Oveth's eyes whirled in amusement. Anyone experienced with working with metal, B'nyurMine is requesting assistance. He's too stubborn to admit that he needs help, so I'm asking for him! Oveth exclaimed to all the Weyr that cared to listen, quite proud of himself for being smart enough to ask for help for B'nyur.

{I'm going to kill you,}[/i] B'nyur said, grimacing. {I do not need help!}[/i] As he said that, he picked up one of the metal panels gingerly, to avoid being burned again, and propped it against a second one, the two leaning on each other, forming a triangle of sorts. Unfortunately, this only reflected the light onto the wall of the Weyrbowl, where Oveth's tail was hanging. Mine, I am not the one who needs to be heated![/color] Oveth protested, moving his tail. B'nyur groaned just as a gust of wind breezed by, knocking over his pitiful attempt anyway. {Maybe I do need a little bit of help.}[/right][/font]

[kyrillion]

It had been only a few days since the Hatching, and already Ripariath had grown - if only a little. He was still quite lean and long-legged for one of his color, and had not filled out much (though his rider was pretty sure he was steadily eating himself through the weyr's meat supplies), but even if no one else noticed, Kyrillion certainly did. And because he was growing, he required a lot of oiling, something she had been assured would be a constant until he was fully grown. By then, though he would need oiling only once every few days, there would be a lot more of him to oil. It would be a task she'd be doing for the rest of her life. Their lives. They were one and the same, now, and Ripariath never seemed to tire of reminding her of the fact, just as she never tired of hearing him say it.

Oiling was a rather menial task, but the junior Weyrling found she quite enjoyed it - she loved any quality time she could spend with her dear blue. She'd discovered quickly how to mentally communicate with him, as most riders did with their dragons, and though she wasn't an overly talkative type she found herself chatting away with him about the most superfluous things, just to hear the reassuring sound of his voice. Everything about being a dragonrider was a new experience, something she'd never encountered before and yet, inexplicably, his presence seemed the most natural and normal thing this side of Pern. Already, she wondered how she'd lived seventeen years of her life without him. It was equally perplexing how, in the span of a few days, he'd managed to turn her into a sentimentalist - at least wherever he was concerned.

Sitting on a low rise in the weyrbowl, intending to soak up as much sun as she could before winter hit, she was very nearly finished oiling Ripariath for the day - or, in any case, for the first time that day. His hide, that almost-purple shade of cornflower, was almost glowing, and the softer, swirling undertones of lighter blue across his underbelly and legs were brought out into sharper contrast by the oil. All of this she regarded idly while they chatted - about the weather, about the weyr, about meaningless and generally neutral subjects. There was a lot of teasing back and forth - Kyril had insisted on teaching Rip the proper application and use of sarcasm, and he had taken to it quite well.

Quite suddenly, though, their light bickering was cut off, and the blue grew very still. A moment later, she heard him answer a query that, evidently, another dragon had passed through the weyr.

Mine is a Metalworker.[/color] He broadcasted in response.
I'm an apprentice, Rip. Who are you talking to?
You know much, Mine. I am sure you will be able to help - Oveth's requires assistance.[/color]
Oveth... Kyril was good with names, but bad with faces. While the name sounded familiar, but it was no surprise she couldn't place it.
His is Dragonhealer. Ripariath contributed helpfully, and as soon as he said so, it clicked.
Right. Well, since you've already volunteered me...
It will do you well to speak with others, Mine. You are still lonely here.
I am not, Rip. I have you.
Always. But you should have others, too.

She knew Ripariath was eager to socialize, himself, and so she acquiesced without further banter or protest (which would have been half-hearted at best, anyway). Standing, she stretched, casting around the Weyr until her eyes landed on a blue figure in the distance - Rip assured her this was Oveth. Pausing only long enough to put up the oil and the rags, she made her way over to the Healer's herb garden with Rip right beside her, his shoulder brushing her hip - much as he had done when they'd first left the Hatching Sands. He was a bit protective of her, and he seemed to draw some comfort from physical proximity - they both moved with the same, purposeful stride, so it was nothing difficult to manage. Rip was far more coordinated on his feet now, of course, and with his long, light figure he moved with an even, comfortable gait - she knew some baby dragonets were somewhat lop-sided and waddled more than walked, but Rip seemed all right on his feet. She wondered, idly, if he'd have as much ease on-wing. She looked forward to flying, and she knew he felt the same.

They were closer, now - close enough that she could see the metal plates the dragonhealer was fiddling with, and their rather strange configuration over his herb garden. Used to absorbing details, she also noticed the small red mark on his hand - a small burn. She'd had plenty of those. Smiling ruefully, she paused a few feet away to make her introductions.

"Hello, there." She nodded to both in turn, before continuing. "Word is you have a.... metal problem. I'd be happy to help."

[4horseshowgirl4]

Oveth was the first to notice the Bluepair arriving, of course. B'nyur had his backed turned to the footpath that led up to the ridge, as he was still sulking slightly. Oveth was watching the trail carefully, however, and his keen eyes had no problem spotting Kyrillion and Ripariath. He rose from his stretched-out position on the sunny nook and sat up on his hind legs, rumbling slightly in welcome to the Weyrlings. B'nyur heard Oveth's greeting and turned around, setting the pane down gently to avoid denting it (though his greatest desire at the moment was to just chuck the sharding thing off of the ridge and watch it sink to the bottom of the Weyr's lake).

It's R...Riparth? Ripth? Ripirth?

[/color] Oveth tried to say, struggling to remember the other Blue's name. There were so many new hatchlings that it was hard to recall all of their names! Why did so many have to hatch at once? Despite his frustration, Oveth's familiar, confused presence brightened B'nyur's mood, as it always did. He chuckled despite himself, looking fondly up at Oveth. It wasn't the Blue's fault that he was exceptionally bad with names. He had the general gist of it, right? Ripsomethingth was close enough. B'nyur smiled again, turning to face his requested helper properly and politely.

B'nyur stepped towards her, extending a large, callused hand. "I don't think I've met you yet. I'm B'nyur, Dragonhealer and 'Rider of Oveth here. Oveth was trying to tell me the name of Yours, but I don't think he has it quite right. What are your names? Congratulations on Impressing, by the way, he's a finely-made dragon." B'nyur watched the young dragon with scrutinizing eyes. Sometimes the lean, long-legged types were more gangly than anything when they were in infancy like this, but this Blue seemed quite graceful as he walked. Usually Blues had enough sense not to get themselves hurt, and B'nyur quite hoped that this would apply to the dragonet as well. The fewer Weyrlings he had to patch up, the better.

"Thanks. I've been trying to figure this out for a while now. I thought I could do it on my own, but Oveth thought otherwise, and now that you're here, it seems stupid to turn away someone who can help me. You a Metalsmith?" He smiled at her, softening his blunt words. He gave her a moment to respond before continuing. Oveth shifted on his cranny above their heads, lowering his head and neck to better listen to their conversation. Tell them I said hi![/color] the Blue said to B'nyur, nudging the air in front of his nose, goading B'nyur to do as he said. He wanted to talk to the newcomers, too, but he knew that many dragons, especially newly Impressed ones, got possessive about Theirs and sometimes reacted violently if another dragon barged into Theirs's mind. "Oveth says hi," B'nyur added, appeasing the Blue.

"So," he said, continuing. "Here's the situation. Many of these herbs are Southern Continent plants, and they're not going to live through the winter here. It's too cold. On my last visit to the Healerhall, one of the Masters there had the idea of setting up these reflective metal panes to create a warmer, sunnier environment for them. It's a good idea, and it made sense, so I picked these panels up at the Minehall on my way back here. However, I can't figure out how to set them up for the life of me. Do you know how to set them up so we can put them up when it's cold, adjust them as the sun moves, and take them down in the summer so we don't fry these plants?" B'nyur didn't bother much with formalities before he gave Kyrillion the run down. If she could help him, good, if not, then at least he didn't waste too much of her time.

B'nyur nudged the pile of metal with his foot, studiously. He was intelligent enough-- one couldn't be any type of Healer without some brains, after all-- but building stuff? Not in his line of expertise. Despite Oveth's half-hearted complaining that there were too many people and dragons here, and that he was having trouble remembering everyone's name (though he couldn't even remember Kalith's name, so B'nyur didn't give much thought to what Oveth said about names), B'nyur was all but overjoyed that the Weyr had built up a decent population. More people meant more crafters, and they were always useful. He hoped that Kyrillion was a Metalsmith, but why would she have trudged all the way up here if she hadn't? B'nyur instantly developed a high esteem of her. It wasn't most people who would walk all the way up to the ridge because some strange dragon had vaguely asked for help, and with a new dragon, nonetheless! She was decent, all right.[/right][/font]

[kyrillion]

"I'm B'nyur, Dragonhealer and 'Rider of Oveth here. Oveth was trying to tell me the name of Yours, but I don't think he has it quite right. What are your names? Congratulations on Impressing, by the way, he's a finely-made dragon."

She was grateful that the healer turned out to be both polite and very friendly - he'd looked quite frustrated when they had first arrived, no doubt due to his gardening troubles. Smiling, she grasped his hand and gave it a brief but firm shake,

"Thank you. I am Kyrillion, this here is Ripariath, and it's very nice to meet you both."
Ripariath's eyes swirled contentedly at the healer's compliment, but his gaze soon shifted to Oveth. He regarded the much bigger dragon with curiosity and something akin to awe.
He is blue like me, Mine! He said adoringly, turning and pushing his forehead into his rider's hip to gain her attention - in much the same way a dog or cat would. Resting her hand absently against his neck to reassure him, she smiled briefly down at him before turning her attention to B'nuyr's herb garden, and the several metal panels that lay scattered about in the grass.

"Thanks. I've been trying to figure this out for a while now. I thought I could do it on my own, but Oveth thought otherwise, and now that you're here, it seems stupid to turn away someone who can help me. You a Metalsmith?"
"Yes. Well, an apprentice, anyway..."
"Oveth says hi,"
Her attention shifted briefly from the healer to his dragon, and she smiled up at him with a quick, "Hello, there," before turning back to the task at hand. She was quite ready to get down to business - it was comforting, after a couple of weeks at the weyr, to have something of her old trade to attend to. Especially something that promised to be intriguing, and probably a bit tricky.

Ripariath, however, threw his head back to peer up at Oveth, only just managing to stay balanced. Though he was a bit protective of his new rider, he was enjoying the company of another dragon - and seeing as how His seemed to like them both, the little blue was quite at ease.
Hello, Oveth!

Kyrillion listened attentively as B'nyur explained his predicament, moving as he spoke to regard the materials he had laid out, and the garden itself. Bronze eyes narrowed in concentration, her mind was already whirling with ideas, trying to pinpoint the best course of action. She was silent for several long minutes after he'd spoken, hands shoved in pockets and attention completely absorbed. Finally, running a hand through her unruly hair, she glanced back up and met his gaze,

"Well... it wouldn't be very difficult to set these panels up on bases - rivet them down with angle joints, attach them to hinges... That would allow you to rotate them throughout the day, keep 'em positioned to direct the most sunlight on the plants. We wouldn't need to bolt them down, either - the ground out here is level enough that you could just set them down - and that way, in the summer, all you'd have to do is pick them up and bring 'em inside."

She circled the garden as she spoke, making vague gestures to accompany her explanation. She was already working out the various joints that would be needed, how the hinges would attach to the plates... But all of this called for quite a few materials and tools. Ones that certainly weren't up here on the rim of the weyrbowl. For all she knew, the closest available might be back at crescent hold! Frowning, she paused again and set her hands on her hips,

"It's not an overly complicated process, if you've got the right equipment. But if this is all we have access too -" she gestured at the plates again, "- well, we might have a bit of trouble."

She had absolutely no idea what sort of metalworking equipment the Weyr would have on-hand, if any. She was already missing the well-stocked shop down at Crescent Hold. Sighing, she crouched down and grabbed one of the plates - carefully, as they'd been sitting out in the sun for a while. Rotating it in her hands, she examined it thoroughly and sighed,

"And while it'd certainly solve the climate problem during the day, these wouldn't be much use at night. I don't claim to now much about gardening, but these won't keep your plants warm when the sun isn't out - you'd probably have to cover the garden with something to keep everything from freezing over-night, if you don't already...?" He probably did, but she thought it best to make sure. While metal was her area of expertise, she knew next to nothing about plants - but she figured it was best to cover all the bases, just in case.

OOC. Not my best post - AP classes are frying my brains. ><