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» Candidate Lesson #1: Welcome to the Weyr
by Kestrana Wed Mar 16, 2022 9:56 pm

» Candidate Lesson #3: Hold and Weyr Relations
by Kestrana Thu Feb 17, 2022 5:34 pm

» Check-in with Candidatemaster Lery
by Kestrana Thu Feb 17, 2022 5:34 pm

» Candidate Lesson #2: Manners for the Mannerly
by Kestrana Wed Feb 16, 2022 2:36 pm

» Chore Group A: Food Services (morning) -- Nium, Marrisha, Quarion, Shemov, Alyena
by Kestrana Fri Feb 04, 2022 8:38 pm

» Girls' Bunkroom #6 - Sindri, Leena, Hirana
by Kestrana Wed Feb 02, 2022 9:35 pm

» Girls' Bunkroom #5 - Nemeia, Neme, Safira
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» Girls' Bunkroom #4 - Luthi, Lorali, Liasa
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» Boys' Bunkroom #7 - Skeldar, Theram, ?
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» Boys' Bunkroom #6 - Burlar, Dryden, Artie
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» NPC Candidates
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» Check-in with Harper Timiny
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» Craft Lesson Schedules
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» Boys' Bunkroom #5 - Liadon, Patelo, Learyam
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» Boys' Bunkroom #4 - Lerane, Kimta, Taien
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» Girls' Bunkroom #3 - Amaki, Rineta, Pola
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» Girls' Bunkroom #2 - Nylee, Xilosci, Secha
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» Boys' Bunkroom #3 - Shemov, Ildel
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» 3941.03.20 10:30 - Aren, Erhom, Lorler, Tikal, Silvara
by Kestrana Fri Jan 14, 2022 4:53 pm

» Boys' Bunkroom #1 - Aren, Erhom, Lorler
by Kestrana Fri Jan 14, 2022 9:12 am

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All canon Pern content copyright to Anne McCaffrey. All non-canon Pern content copyright Kestrana. All draconic sprites/button images copyright to various artists (many images from Pern book covers; dragon sprite from "Dragonlady" fantasy portrait of Anne McCaffrey). All original characters copyright of their gamers.

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Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
H'lee was infernally glad he wasn't in T'lon's boots right now, trying to iron out the difficulties among the riders, all from different Weyrs: two bronzes from Ista and Xanadu Weyrs; five browns from Fort, High Reaches, Ista, Southern, and Monaco Bay Weyrs; nine blues, one from each Fort, High Reaches, Ista, Igen, and Xanadu Weyrs and two from each Southern and Monaco Bay Weyrs; and twelve greens, one from each Ista, Southern, and Monaco Bay Weyrs, two from Fort, High Reaches, and Xanadu Weyrs, and three from Igen Weyr.  Naturally, the other two bronzeriders thought they'd make better Wingleaders than T'lon, nevermind that T'lon was the only one with Wingleader experience; the others had Wingsecond and Wingthird experience, but so did a couple of the brownriders, which was making THAT interesting, too.

H'lee had refused flat-out to have anything to do with that.  "I'm the Weyrlingmaster and you've saddled me with 39 eggs.  I am going to have my hands MORE than full with them, I can't express how much I don't want a part of Wing leadership, thank you very much."  He had glared at Sikra and the other two goldriders who'd brought their egg-heavy queens forward to help and were trying to settle the leadership question for everyone before they returned home and they'd chuckled and allowed that he would.  He'd actually argued for not putting T'lon in place because he was going to need a bronze to help with the gold weyrlings, but they had, logically, pointed out that that particular job requirement was only part-time, so T'lon could continue as Wingleader and erstwhile Weyrleader until the golds were old enough.  Which effectively left H'lee alone with the weyrlings.

"Why are you so worried about this?  It's not like you haven't dealt with that many weyrlings before," Lery asked him.

"Yeah, at different ages, at least four months apart in age.  Not 39 of the same age!"  There wasn't much Lery could say about that.

39 eggs, 6 Weyrs: none of them felt comfortable using Telgar Weyr, too many negative emotions relating to the disease that had been unleashed.  And Southern and Monaco Bay didn't have well-enclosed Hatching Grounds.  That meant six eggs to most of the Weyrs, with a seventh egg in a couple of Weyrs.  Benden, Fort, and Igen were selected for the extras.

So here were H'lee, T'lon, Silv, and four others, bringing seven eggs to Fort Weyr, including one of the precious gold eggs.  And H'lee, T'lon, and Silv were in the middle of an argument about children; specifically, Nylee.  Lerane had stood for a couple of Hatchings already, although H'lee had been nervous about it with all the violence directed at the Weyrs.  After losing Nylee's parents, H'lee had become a bit overprotective of her and he was not at all keen on letting her Stand at what he was calling the "mega-Hatching."

Lery and Alina had both chimed in on the subject.  Lery pointed out that since both her parents were dragonriders, it was almost a given that Nylee would be as well, and keeping her off the Sands wouldn't likely prevent that.

She will make a good rider.  Warrelith knows it.  We all know it.  She should stand.  Seeth was saying as they landed a bit after midnight in Fort Weyr's Hatching Grounds.

"Oh, c'mon, not you, too," H'lee groaned.  Seeth settled his precious burden on the Sands and snaked his head around to snort at his rider.  Undoubtedly, Roth and Warrelith were agreeing with Seeth on this; for all he knew, the other four dragons were, too.  He glared at the lot of them.  "After what happened to her mother?  Do any of you know if she even WANTS to be a dragonrider?" he growled.

Do you?  Have you asked her? Seeth huffed at him.  The brownrider snarled but didn't answer.

Further arguments ensued among the dragons and their riders over the suitability of Nylee, Lerane, and the handful of other children brought along by their rider parents while the group carefully nestled the eggs they'd brought into concealed nooks and crannies, safely out of sight to an alert observer.  Someone would have to search the Sands quite thoroughly to find them.  Finally, H'lee called a truce on the debates about potential Candidates and suggested that they all get some sleep.  Except for Silvara, they'd be going out in pairs the following day to follow up on any potentials that Silv and Warrelith were able to pick out.  He gave Silvara a pointed look, knowing that she would likely have difficulty sleeping with so many unfamiliar people around and knowing what would happen...or was happening...or had happened...whatever...back in their time; he'd intentionally made sure that there were some herbal sleeping draughts as well as a small bottle of fellis in her pack just in case.  Regardless, he fully expected that she and Warrelith would do a little mental sneaking around in Fort Hold before falling asleep, if for no other reason than to reassure themselves of each other's presence.  And also to make sure that they weren't about to be discovered by some curious holder child or Harper Apprentice.  They all remembered the legends of how Harper Hall Apprentices were expected to stay overnight in the abandoned Weyr in Lessa's time, it wouldn't surprise them at all to find out the same thing happened now, despite the stigma attached to the Weyrs in this day and age.




In the pre-dawn light, three pairs of riders slipped out cross-country to come into the Hold from different directions.  Certainly, they couldn't be seen coming in from the direction of the Weyr.  They needed some herdbeasts or wherries to feed the dragons, or even fish; that was one of their ruses for entering the Hold and possibly visiting some of the nearby holdings.  Silv was in contact with them through Warrelith or their dragons, depending on what needed to be conveyed.  She was scanning the area for anyone with strong empathic or telepathic Gifts and, through a strong rapport with Warrelith, performing a somewhat more traditional Search.  If and when one of them identified a potential Candidate, Silvara used her Farsight to get a location fix on the potential and then would relay the location to the nearest pair of riders.  Then the pair would move in to observe the potential, maybe ask some roundabout questions about the target, at least enough to find out their name and rank, and then move on.  After they all returned to the Weyr that afternoon/evening, they'd discuss the potentials and decide which ones would be easy to extract and take to the Weyr at Hatching time.

H'lee and T'lon took the easiest route to the Weyr, H'lee playing shamelessly on his crippled leg to get that dispensation from the others.  They arrived half an hour after dawn, footsore and bickering about whether Lery would prefer herdbeast or wherry to feed them.  The Hold was no longer confined to the walls, it sprawled out some distance from the main Hold.  On the one hand, that meant there were no guards in this area and it would be relatively easy to find the food they were sent in search of, but on the other hand, that simplicity would make it more difficult to come up with reasons to linger.  Fortunately, they had considered that and had brought some goods to sell or trade.  Some street-corner peddling would keep them in the area a little longer, or so they hoped.  H'lee's trade as a tanner also gave them an additional reason to be looking for living livestock, as well as a reason why they'd had to walk a long way.

Seeth, let Silvara know T'lon and I have arrived, would you?  He half-expected Warrelith to be the one to contact him back rather than relaying through Seeth once he and his rider found a location of a potential in their area.  Meanwhile, they started wandering, looking for some breakfast and any place they could buy or trade for the meat their dragons needed.

#Site-Main-Plot
http://reverie.rpg-board.net



Last edited by Kestrana on Mon Oct 07, 2019 10:09 am; edited 4 times in total

Alyena


Gold Weyrling
Alyena headed out early with a large cart and a pair of old runnerbeasts to head down to one of the markets on the edge of town.  The inner Hold, where she worked, was too crammed with people to raise livestock, so when fresh meat was on the menu, someone had to go out to a market and buy them.  And, to be honest, Alyena preferred to get veggies, fruits, and flour from the markets, too; it was a little more expensive, but the quality was usually higher.  She'd become a shrewd haggler during the two years between finishing her Apprentice training and when she had been allowed to walk the tables to Journeywoman.  That in combination with regular weekly visits to a specifc few booths in a couple different markets allowed her to get more goods for fewer Marks than anyone else sent to get supplies, a fact that had not escaped the Senior Journeyman Steward that Alyena reported to; now she was the only one sent out to the markets each week on fresh-meat runs.

She and her empty cart rattled into the Eastern Beast Market square to pick up the pair of herdbeast steers, half a dozen wherries, and three or four barrels of salted fish.  After haggling the price down to something reasonable (naturally, her supplier couldn't offer her a lower starting price or every other shopper would hassle him), she loaded the birds and fish into the cart and tied the troublesome beasts to the bed and drove her cargo back into the Hold proper.  After delivering this load, she headed out again, this time to the Northern Farmer Market square; here, she could fill up on the berries, grapes, sugar beets, and assorted other vegetables that were grown in greenhouses north of the Hold, up on the south-facing slopes above the sprawling population center.

She noticed a couple of strangers in the Beast Market square as she'd dickered with the Herders and Fisher from whom she bought those supplies from.  Now she noticed another pair in the Farmer Market.  Seeing strangers in the Markets wasn't exactly unusual, by any means, but these ones wore clothing that was a bit more out-of-style than the usual remote holders, and despite the nip in the air, their jackets - well made and apparently lined with wool - were open to the chill.  One of them, an attractive older man, walked with a noticeable limp, but he and his friend each carried a pack and looked as though they might be selling something.  She was tempted to look and then sharply reminded herself that she was at the Market on business and Journeyman Rathe would start wondering where she'd got off to if she didn't get her produce and hightail it back to the Hold.

She turned her attention back to the booths, smiling as she approached the Vintner that she purchased grapes from; as usual, the man made a show of complaining about using good grapes for anything other than making good wine, and as usual, she allowed that it would be shame, but he wouldn't be selling his good grapes in any other form than as good wine, so these must not be all that good.  He pretended insult and swore he wouldn't sell her a bushel for less than two Marks.  She suggested that he wouldn't get more than a 1/2 Mark for the wine produced by the same bushel; he replied that it was one of the first bushels of this type of grapes, but maybe he'd get 1 3/4 Marks from that gentleman over there.  "Spring's almost over, Anton, you've had this variety of grapes for three weeks now!  1 Mark!"  Eventually, they settled on their usual price of 1 5/16 Marks per bushel and she bought three from him.  A similar charade went down at three other stalls, where she obtained four bushels of mixed early vegetables; two barrels of winter wheat flour; and a half-bushel of early strawberries, and a half flat of raspberries.  With her purchasing complete, she led her cart team around behind the stalls to load up her purchased goods; she had to do the loading herself, the Crafters were much too busy trying to make more sales after setting aside her purchases.  Once she finished, she'd head back up to the Hold.

Marrisha

Marrisha
Unranked
Marrisha woke with the chirping of so birds in the tree outside her window. She smiled as she rubbed her eyes, trying to drive the sleep from her mind. A dream still lingered, memories of her mother brushing her hair and telling her stories of the dragons. She could still feel her fingers untangling knots in her dark unruly hair, their gentle brush down her back and neck. It was a dream she had often, always the same, making her heart clench and feel warm at the same time. She shook her head, her hair whipping around her face. She missed her mother so fiercely that it hurt, a dark hole in her heart that never left. The dreams gave her a brief moment of happiness, allowing her to feel like a kid again, not the caretaker of family herd. They took the weight off her shoulders, until she woke and reality came crashing back down. Marri sighed and swung out of bed, letting the blanket fall to the floor. She dressed quickly in the cold, a light weight tan jacket over a green shirt and a pair of matching tan trousers. She slipped on her knee high boots, quickly made her bed, ran a comb through her hair, and trotted out the door. She was the only one up this early, other than Brisa, who was kneading dough for breakfast. "Morning!" Her cup of klah was sitting at the end of the table, along with a bit of yesterday's bread. She scarfed it down, sipping slowly at the klah to wash it down. Brisa, can you let father know that I am going out looking for herbs and won't be back until later? Her sister nodded, a soft grin on her face. She knew Marri's tendencies to slip away were in response to their father's new wife taking charge of the Hold and family.

"Then take some more rolls with you, and a canteen of water." Marri nodded, threw the necessary items into a pack and rushed out the door, with Brisa calling after her, "And be safe out there!"

She jogged to the barn, reveling in the crisp air and the sun beating down on her head. Goats stuck their heads through their stall doors, bleating for their morning feed. Marri laughed and grabbed a bucket of grain from the feed bin. She went to each stall and dumped a scoop into the food buckets, sometimes having to shove a horned head out of her way. She could sense their hunger and the happiness they had now that she was here and feeding them. Marri then threw some hay out in the two pastures closest to the barn. After she finished milking them, she turned the nannies and their kids out into the farther pasture, and put the animals that were going to the market today in the near pasture. Her dad and brother would take them up later, when they woke.

Marri set off at a trot into the hillside behind their property. The morning breeze whipped her dark hair in front of her face, and she brushed it aside with an annoyed flick of her hand. Sometimes she wished her father would let her cut the long tresses off, but he always denied her request with the all-too-familiar, "But they remind me of your mother's hair." Marrisha jogged until mid-morning, when her breath started to become ragged and her strides began to falter. A few times while she ran, she paused and tried to merge her mind with some of the nearby birds, a trick that she had only been able to do a few times before. Finally she was able to succeed, linking with one of the passerine birds that dug seeds out of the evergreen trees. For some time, she padded through the trees, watching herself through its eyes.  Finally, she separated her mind from it and let it fly off into the woods. A little disoriented now, she hiked around boulders bigger than her room, until she came upon a dead end. Before her rose a red wall of rock, too steep for even a goat to climb. Marri stopped to try to get her bearings.

After a moment, she turned to leave the ravine, and as she rounded the boulder near the entrance, she stopped dead in her tracks, the words of a song frozen on her lips. Before her, blocking the way out of the gully, sat three riders clothed in dark leather, their faces hidden and ropes coiled in their hands. "That's her, boys," muttered a female voice, the rider on a dark grey runner pointing at Marri. The other two began to advance, one on a bay, the other on a chestnut similar to Marrisha's father's horse. They began to unwind the ropes as they closed in on her. She spun around and ran toward the back of the gulch, searching for a way out. She was blocked in, trapped, and they all knew it. She began to get frantic as the riders closed in on her. "Don't be afraid, little girl," snickered the man on the bay, "we aren't going to hurt you.  Much."

Her breaths came in short little gasps as she tried to control her fear. An idea came to her, and she reached out with her mind to the closest raider's mount. Once she had its attention, she filled the gully with snakes, thousands and thousands of snakes. The rider cursed as his runner began to buck and scream, fighting to run away from the vision, finally dislodging its rider and charging into the brush. The woman shouted, "She's controlling its mind! Hurry up and get her!" The other man dismounted, handing his reins to the female raider before advancing on Marri, his face dark and angry. A rope sung out of his hands and landed around her chest as she tried to bolt past them. He yanked hard, and her breath was knocked out of her and her concentration lost as she landed on the ground. The horse she had been terrifying instantly calmed as the snakes disappeared, and the woman approached as Marri tried to get her breath back. She was dizzy and her head hurt as the woman dismounted and knelt next to her. "I'm glad we finally found you, little girl. You will fetch a good price on the black market." She turned to the man holding the rope. "Help me drug her before we get head to camp, we don't need a repeat of that," she finished, gesturing toward where the first horse had disappeared.  She laughed, a dark and sister laugh that sent more chills up Marri's spine. "You were foolish for coming here. Don't you know that bandits run these hills?" Marri could only glare as she was gagged and bound, struggling as they propped her up against a rock. She fought the ropes, but only succeeded in rubbing her skin raw while the woman took a flask out of a saddleback on her gray horse.  She approached while the two men held Marri down. "Now, you be a good girl and drink this. It will make this so much easier on you." Marri spit in her face. "Bitch," said the woman, and rewarded Marri with a slap that rocked her whole body. One of the raiders yanked Marri's head back by her hair while the woman poured the mixture down her throat. The girl gagged and tried to spit it out, but one of the men clamped his hands over her nose and mouth until she was forced to swallow. She was gagged and her hands and feet were bound together so she couldn't run, not that she would have been able to even if she had wanted. The mixture made her feel incredibly strange, as if her whole body was numb and full of sensations at the same time. Her mind wandered, and her eyes closed as wonderfully colorful visions swam across her eyelids.  She barely noticed when one of them slung her across the front of the female raider's saddle.

It took them only a few minutes to reach the bandits cave. Some small part of Marrisha's mind realized how deep in trouble she was. She hadn't told anyone where she was going, and these caves were unfamiliar to her. This was country not well traveled, perfect for bandits. And she had foolishly fallen into their trap.  She was yanked off the horse and thrown to the floor of a cavern. The small entrance was hidden by boulders, only a few feet from the trail that ran into the gully. Inside, the cavern was almost as big as her hold, and the horses hooves echoed as they stepped across the rocky floor. Near the back, a small fire burned, giving off a little heat and light. That was where she was tossed, her knees scraping the ground as she fell. They rummaged through her pack, taking everything that was valuable as she silently watched. She was scared, and didn't know what to do to get out of this mess.

After a bit of time had passed, her head became a little clearer.  Concentrate, girl, her mother's voice seemed to echo from the bottom of her mind. You need to call for help. You can do it, honey, just call... Confused, Marrisha tried to mumble help around her gag, but got the feeling that that wasn't it, especially when one of the raiders tensed up and turned toward her suspiciously. Tentatively, she called out, Help, in her mind. You have to be louder, honey. Again she mentally cried for help, this time stronger. She tried again, this time screaming at the confines of her mind. Someone please help me!, and the horses in the cavern bucked and reared, and the two men went to calm them down while the woman stormed up to Marrisha. Marri cringed back and the horses had already calmed down, so the woman retreated, but continued to watch Marrisha suspiciously.  Please, someone respond, I'm all alone... she thought to herself.

Silvara

Silvara
Moderator / Master Healer
Silvara spent as much time with her mother and the other Gold riders as she could when they were in this new time point learning everything she could both from them talking but also making “copies” of their minds in her own. This was not something she was wholly comfortable with doing but Sikra had pointed out that it was the best way to ensure that all of their knowledge would be preserved so she could be both Weyrwoman and Teacher for the future Weyrwoman when the golds hatched and were matured enough to take up that role. She was also dreading the fact that for all intents and purposes she was also THE Queen dragon once the golds went back to face their fates. She hated it so much. She hated knowing that they were going back to die and yet there was nothing that could be done without dooming them all.

She found herself on several occasions ready to yell at the other riders from the other weyrs to get their acts together and work together as their infighting was grating on her already raw nerves. At those points Warrelith would step in to get the other dragons to calm their riders down before she lashed out with her gifts knowing none of them would like what that would entail.

When it came time to settle the eggs into the different weyrs Silvara was glad to just be away from the majority of other riders even if the bickering over weather H’lee’s daughter was going to stand or not was making her want to smack some individuals upside the head. Mostly H’lee for being blind since there was no way she was NOT going to impress and he would just have to accept that but she kept that to herself for the time being not wanting to add to his stress.

As they settled down for the night she knew she would not get much sleep. Between what had/is happening in the past and all the minds of the present she was not ready for what sleep would bring. She also wanted a chance to work with Warrel on looking at the hold and surrounding areas for potential candidates while things were in a slightly more peaceful state. Her mind ranged far that night before Warrel forced her to drink some herbal tea to chase the dreams away and get some sleep so she could be focused for the day ahead.

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Silvara kept watch as the three sets of riders left and slowly made their way to the hold and surrounding areas to start the search and to do some trade. She had given H’lee and T’lon some of her metal work to sell as well knowing it should fetch a good price since she liked making very intricate pieces of jewelry which should be easy enough to sell in such a large hold. The few weapons she had made so far she had kept for the weyr and their folk knowing it was likely they would need such and more to stay safe in this changed age.

She smiled when Seeth reached out to tell Warrelith that they were in the town and she spoke back to him directly that she was aware and glad for the update and to tell H’lee to not overdo it with his leg since he would have to make the long walk back!

With that she cast her mind a little farther afield watching over the three groups while also keeping an eye out for potential candidates. Her mind soon latched onto a young woman who had the feel of being a potential Gold rider. After getting a better fix on the young woman named Alyena she passed the message onto the three teams as she seemed to be moving in and out of the different market areas getting goods for her craft hall, which would allow at least two of the groups to watch her and get a feel for her themselves. With that she turned her mind elsewhere still looking for potential candidates while also making sure her riders would be safe and no other gifted were about to catch them as it were.

That’s when it happened. A Call for help caught her and pulled her forcefully to a cave in the hills south and west of the hold and weyr. A remote area far from cottages and other habitation and not a place one would expect to find honorable individuals. That’s when she “Saw” a young woman held by bandits, the call coming from her in that dark foreboding place filled with greed and now despair. Without a second thought Silvara called to H’lee and the other riders directly telling them a short version of what she saw and felt before running towards Warrelith. It would take the others a great deal of time to get free of the hold and back to the weyr let alone to the remote location the girl was being held. Which meant that she was going to go and get the young woman herself and make the filth that held her captive pay for their actions and that was that.

Silv normally would have let H’lee or the others take care of the situation but knew that the young woman, Marrisha, had been heavily drugged to the point that it was a danger to her health and could not risk waiting. She just hoped she and Warrelith would not be spotted by anyone while doing this. Taking to the air they went between right from inside the weyr to near the hills and cave where Marrisha was located coming out in a rather secluded and partially hidden spot. It paid to have far sight some days.

Once Warrelith was on the ground Silv was off his back and running with easy strides in the direction that the cave was keeping a mental eye on the bandits and the surrounding area as she moved. Soon she reached a point where she could watch what was going on just outside the cave without being spotted trying to figure out what to do about the bandits as she was loathed to kill but these people were little more than scum she quickly found out after reading their surface thoughts without them being any the wiser.

Reaching out with her own Telepathy she lightly brushes Marrisha’s mind with her own hoping to give her an anchor in the sea of drug haze. ::It will be all right young one help is on the way, just hold on.::



Last edited by Silvara on Sun Mar 13, 2016 10:08 pm; edited 2 times in total

5Settling into Hiding - 3941.03.14 - Fort Weyr/Hold Empty 3941.03.15 Sat Mar 12, 2016 10:45 pm

Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
H'lee rolled his eyes at Silvara's admonition to take it easy on his leg.  Not like he'd been walking on it for the better part of 5 years!  And who was the older one, anyway?  Still, he couldn't help but smile a little: the fact that she was able to worry about something as mundane as that meant she was feeling halfway decent today, at least.

H'lee, ever the ladies' man, was the one who spotted the young woman when Seeth relayed the information to him, haggling with a vintner over grapes in what was apparently a Farmer market.  There seemed to be some organization to the outer areas of the Hold that was not readily apparent to the two riders - this certainly wasn't where they were going to find beasts for meat.

T'lon was in his element, although he had to bite his tongue to keep from exclaiming over the variety that was available, even in March.  In the process of haggling for a couple of boxes of produce that they could easily carry back to the Weyr with them, the bronzerider discovered that his friend's raw leather - which was not even the Weyrlingmaster's best leather - was quite valuable.  Apparently, in this day and age, good leather was no longer common.  T'lon nearly gave them away when he asked why not; fortunately, the young man he was dealing with was of an age to think the two riders "ancient" and therefore unlikely to understand current fashion, and simply snorted and said, "Because it's too much work.  Llama wool is just as warm and is renewable."  T'lon almost asked what they did with the hides if they didn't tan them, but H'lee stepped on his foot and stopped him before he could.  At any rate, the young man was more than happy to trade a couple of hides for two large boxes of produce.  They were not easy to carry, but it didn't seem like they had much choice.

H'lee shepherded his friend over to the vintner booth the young woman had been at a few minutes before.  Both riders missed having wine - it was a luxury they'd forgone during their trip forward, choosing instead to pack more valuable items, and the vintner had some for sale.  The merchant had skins as well as glass bottles, labeled as "travel skins."  H'lee pulled out a couple of his smaller but better hides which could be turned into wineskins with a little care, something that the vintner appeared to take.  The man was quite happy to trade hides for wineskins at a two-to-one value, so they got three skins.  Toward the end of the sale, H'lee casually asked, "The young woman you were haggling with earlier, who is she?"

"Young Alyena?  Tsk, if I'm too old for her, you most certainly are!" the man laughed.

"Maybe you two are, but I'm not!" T'lon stated, incurring further laughter.

"She's a shrewd one, she is.  She'd see right through your rusty attempts at chivalry," the vendor continued.  "Naw, she's destined to be Headwoman up at the Hold proper.  They only send her down here now, folks take advantage of the others because they think they have more money, and the others figure they don't need to worry about how much the food costs, so they don't haggle as much.  Yon' Alyena, now, she knows what's what."

Inwardly, H'lee cursed.  Silv was certain the girl was goldrider material, and her current rank supported the idea, but she would be missed. He had no idea how they'd get her away to stand at the Hatching.  Well, that could be a problem for another day; eggs weren't going to Hatch for another five fortnights anyway.  He thanked the vintner for the information and asked where they could find livestock for sale.  The vintner frowned for a second, then looked at the good leathers he'd just traded for and concluded that's why the stranger wanted livestock.  "You'll want the east side," he gestured vaguely in that direction.

It was shortly after that when Seeth contacted his rider with significant alarm and moments later H'lee and T'lon both stumbled as Silv shoved a brief message and image down their mental throats.  The brownrider's curse was not internal this time, and it was T'lon's turn to keep his friend from blowing their cover.  "We can't rush back now without drawing attention," the bronzerider hissed.

Muttering under his breath, there was nothing H'lee could do but agree.  "She could use your truth-reading ability, we should head back as soon as possible."  So rather than join the pair at the Beast Market, they instead hefted their packs and their boxes of produce and headed north, back the way they had come.

Once away from prying eyes, they picked up their pace as much as H'lee's bum leg would allow.  Just because they were out of sight didn't mean their dragons could come pick them up, though, so they had to keep going on foot.  H'lee tried to move faster, certain that Silvara was in some kind of danger, although Seeth had not conveyed anything but a general feeling of anxiety.  It was nearly noon when they finally arrived back at the Weyr, and by then, they knew Silv's fate, as well as that of the young woman she'd gone to rescue.
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Last edited by Kestrana on Mon Oct 07, 2019 10:42 am; edited 4 times in total

6Settling into Hiding - 3941.03.14 - Fort Weyr/Hold Empty 3941.03.15 Fri May 20, 2016 7:23 pm

Marrisha

Marrisha
Unranked
The hallucinations were getting worse.

Marri could handle the rainbow swirls that first came with drug induced haze, but they shortly melted into twisted living nightmares. The one she was seeing now was the worst, and most insistent. Her mother lay before her, her belly unnaturally swollen, even for a full term pregnancy. The skin over her womb moved, and the skin stretched to show the imprints of the hands pushing out. With every push the skin would stretch further and further, until her stomach split like a ripe tomato. Marri's little brother, Kohin, crawled out of his mothers womb, not as an infant, but as the child he was now, but with the twisted face of a tunnelsnake. Each time he would look at their mother, then point at his sister, blood dripping from his shaking fingers as he whispered death....death.....death....

She closed her eyes, trying to block him out, but she could still hear the whisper in the tiny child's voice, death....death.....death.... Then, her brother would grow, and his face would change, until her father stood before her. Her dead mother would then stand next to her husband, her belly split and bleeding, her face twisted into that of her step mother, whispering into his ear. death....death.....death.... Rimbal would then raise his hand, and she screamed as he brought it down across her face. Again and again he struck her, each time she screamed out, each time she felt the pain of the slap.

"Wake up you little bitch. Quit yer squealing."  Her father/Kohin melted into the form of a stranger, kneeling before her. Her stepmother/mother became the female raider that first drugged her. She stared at them uncomprehendingly, their forms shifting in and out of focus. "Hit her again. She's still not with us." The man slapped her again, his hard hand knocking her head back. She blinked at them, then cried out as he roughly shook her. "Welcome back, princess." The female raiders voice was harsh and cold. "Mikki said if we kept you drugged for much longer we would lose you to the haze.  Don't make me do that." She placed a bowl of stew besides Marri's bound feet, then removed the bonds from her hands. Marri bit her tongue to keep from crying as needles shot up her fingers and arms, and she forced herself to try to clench her fingers. The drug was still there, she could feel it in her body, feel it trying to creep its way back into her mind. Her thoughts were still jumbled, and she couldn't focus on anything besides the pain in her hands, so she let that keep her in this world, and used it as an anchor.

As she began to slurp the stew from the bowl (they didn't give her a spoon), Marri took the opportunity to look at her surroundings. She was no longer in the giant cavern that she had first been brought to, instead she had been chained to the wall in a smaller cave.  She wasn't sure if it was part of the same cave system or not.  Barrels and crates surrounded her, some overflowing with goods. She spotted markers from several different Holds and caravans on some of their sides. Exotic animals huddled in pens much to small for them, their cries adding to the racket of the main cavern. This must be where they store their stolen goods before they resell them. She mused, fighting to keep the stew down as her stomach rebelled from the drug and the malodorous mélange emanating from the animals and crates. She began to inspect the animals stored with her, partly out of curiosity and to give herself something to focus on. Most were exotic birds, their cries and caws almost deafening in the small space. She was excited to see a large lizard, only to note that it had no wings and was not the firelizard of her dreams. It flicked its' tongue at her, as if sensing her disappointment.

She sighed and began to try to push the crates and barrels around so she could see what else was going on.  The chain attaching her to the wall was fairly long and allowed her some limited movement, she assumed it was to allow her to relieve herself somewhere other than where she laid, but she didn't know how a raider's mind worked and it wouldn't have surprised her if that had not even crossed their minds. As it was, she reeked of her own excrement, and they had stripped her of most of her clothing. She didn't know why they had taken her clothes from her; the cave was comfortable enough, so she wasn't cold, and in her drugged haze she wouldn't have been able to resist anything done to her person. Her mind started to settle on that unsettling thought, but she pushed it away. If they had raped her, she did not know when or how often, nor was she 'present' during any such activity, due to the drug, and for that she was grateful. Best not to dwell on something that she could not have controlled or stopped.

Again, she struggled through the haze to push out with her mind, desperately trying to call for help. Once, she thought she could feel another presence, and a memory of hopeful words flitted through her mind, then disappeared, and she could never quite find it again. Every time she thought she was close, the drug whisked the connection away like a bit of wind on a cloud. The drug, which she hatefully termed the Haze, was enough to dampen her gift, at least for anything long distance, and she began to despair of being rescued.  She drifted off to sleep again.

At some point later, there was more activity in the main cavern, and she could hear the raiders shouting and the sound of large objects being shifted. Someone came in to gather the barrels and crates, the animals hissing and squawking at the raiders. The female raider came to get her last, unchaining her from the wall and roughly dragging her to her feet. "Time to go to your new home. Don't struggle now, or I'll break a couple of fingers." Marri obeyed completely, though her mind screamed out. Help! Please! Help Me! She started to drag her feet, anything to show a little rebellion. The raider snatched her pinkie finger and Marri cried out as the woman wrenched it backwards. "Any more of that and I'll break it. Now MOVE!" She pushed Marri ahead of her, into the light of the main cavern.

It will be all right young one help is on the way, just hold on.

Marri almost froze as the voice pushed through her haze; the voice had a strange quality to it, almost like she could see colors in the words, a blue and red rainbow, and she thought it must be a side-effect of the drug.  However, she desperately clung to that thread of hope as she allowed the raider to push her out of the cavern and into a wagon. They were all dressed in tunics worn by the local caravan drivers, which would make it easier for them to ship their products across the country without people snooping. She couldn't reach back to the voice, but Marri was calm as the wagon began to move, and the 'caravan' began to make its way down the road.

7Settling into Hiding - 3941.03.14 - Fort Weyr/Hold Empty 3941.03.15 Fri Aug 09, 2019 3:07 pm

Silvara

Silvara
Moderator / Master Healer
It did not take long for Silvara to find a good spot to watch the cave entrance knowing it would be folly to just charge in there even with her gifts. Instead she “scouted” with her mind finding only the three bandits and the girl inside the cave but knowing that it was still unwise to just charge in. She soon realized that she would have to wait for them to come out if she was to have any hope of taking all three down and rescuing the girl and so settled in to wait. Monitoring Marri’s condition and placing a mental geas around her to keep the two male bandits from taking advantage of her just in case. As she watched it was clear that the woman in charge would not let that happen anyways wanting their prize “unsullied” for sale to the gifted breeding farms of one of the more unsavory Lord Holders. The mere thought of it turned Silv’s stomach and made her want to puke.

All the while she continued to and catch Marri’s mind to pull her out of the drug haze but realized that the poor girl was to deeply lost in it to be caught. Worry sat in Silv’s heart but she held firm that she would get this done and help Marri. Meanwhile she made sure her riding leathers were properly fastened closed and her goggles still over her eyes. She would look to be a figure clad in leather with goggle eyes to the bandits when the time came and that was for the best if any of them did manage to get out of this alive. There would be no way for them to identify her as their attacker just in case.

Time crawled by as several hours passed before the bandits started working to load carts with goods and wake Marri from her drugged sleep and haze. Silv felt some relief that they did feed Marri as that would help the young woman’s body fight off the drugs in her system. She carefully moved along the edge of the clearing the cave mouth opened onto towards where the road was thinking to cut them off. Silv’s mind was battered when Marri called out frantically.  ::Help! Please! Help ME!:: She knew time was drawing short as she braced for what was going to happen shortly.

::I come... Close your eyes and just hold on.::

The second the carts were in motion and close to the tree line Silv reached out and threw the image of a large grey/green dragon at the runner beasts and bandits not willing to risk having Warrelith actually land in front of them. Having been a dragon rider for so long her mental illusion was perfect and with a light touch of elemental shaping she was able to simulate the landing and the wind from wings. The runners started to panic and fight the bandit’s control which gave Silv the opening she needed. In one smooth motion she leapt from the rock ledge onto the nearest cart and ran her sword through the unsuspecting bandit’s throat ending his life fast and clean.

The Lady Bandit fought her runner hard and turned just in time to see a leather clad figure jump onto one of the other carts and swiftly kill her man. She growled and quickly let go of her runner’s reins and moved drawing her sword and figuring that the monster on the road would focus on the easily eaten runner than on her as she jumped off the cart she had been driving.  “Look sharp we have a hostile in our midst!” she yelled to her other man knowing that between the monster on the road ahead and this stranger in close that it was not going to be an easy fight. She was pissed off at the thought of losing so much loot and one of her men to this strange attack and so charged towards where the enemy she felt confident that she could take down was.

Meanwhile the second bandit realized that dropping the reins and jumping off was the best thing he could do hearing his bosses call. Drawing his own blade, he moved to try and get the runners to turn back towards the cave and away from the monster on the road having faith that his boss would deal with the upstart in their midst. Thankfully the runners seemed to have instinctively thought the same thing and were trying to back away from the monster rather than just running towards it as the woods and brush along the sides of the track were too thick for them to run through especially tethered to carts as they were.

Silvara moved swiftly to get off the cart she had landed on to start with while pushing towards the runner’s the idea of safety in the cave rather than letting them run into her mental illusion of a dragon. This tactic seemed to be working as once the bandits were no longer in control they all were trying to back up or turn around to head back to the clearing and safety. This just left Silv to face off with the two bandits without worrying that Marri would accidentally get hauled to who knows where but scared runners.

Deftly blocking an attack from the Lead Bandit she had to focus more and more and not getting sliced by the Bandit than on her mental projection and the elemental shaping needed to make it seem real. She knew that before long the other bandit would realize it was fake and so switched tactics even as she dodged away from the leader. She let the dragon vanish into smoke and instead lashed out at the bandit leader with a smattering of ice spears while rolling to her feet and charging the other bandit who had stopped to stare at the vanishing dragon in confusion. That would be his mistake as she took him from behind ending his life swiftly.

The Leader realized that whoever this person was that they knew how to fight well enough but given time she could over power them but as the rat rolled away she found herself being hit with sharp spears of ice slicking into her left side as she tried to turn away from the attack. Realization struck seeing the monster fade to nothingness and holding her bleeding side. They were under attack by a Psi. “SHARDS!” She could see the Psi going for her other man and knew that this was likely her only chance to get the fuck out of here knowing that she might have more sword skill but even her minor resistance to Psi Mental ability’s would not save her from one that could throw elements at her. She carefully slunk off among the bushes trying to stop the blood flow from her side so the Psi could not follow.

Silvara turned around to see that the bandit leader had slipped away and cursed softly before heading back towards the cave and the calmed runner beasts hoping that Marri had not taking too much damage in the jostling carts as the runners worked to get away from the illusion. Cleaning her blade as she walked and reaching out with her mind she could briefly feel the bandit leaders mind as she made her getaway but did not have the stomach to try and kill her with a mind blast and having more important things to do like check on Marri and contact the others to let them know she was safe and as a bonus they now had three carts, several runner beasts, and all the goods from the bandit’s cave. Some small voice whispered in the back of her mind that it might have been a bad thing to let the bandit get away but for now she would focus on Marri.

Getting around to the cart Marri was in Silv had reached up to move her flight goggles on top of her head while pushing her hood and mask out of the way not wanting to scare the poor girl anymore than she already had.

“Sorry for taking so long, but you're safe now.”

Her voice was low and soothing a trick she used often as a healer even as she moved to examine the young woman and assess her hurts. Her mind in turn did the same reaching out to catch Marri’s and give her a solid anchor to hold to till they could flush the rest of the drugs from her system. She also asked Warrel to bring H’lee up to speed and ask him to sort out how they were going to get all the “loot” back to weyr safely.

8Settling into Hiding - 3941.03.14 - Fort Weyr/Hold Empty 3941.03.15 Mon Aug 12, 2019 11:50 am

Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
Marrisha

I come... Close your eyes and just hold on.  It was the rainbow voice again.  It reminded her somewhat of her mother's voice, except she'd never "heard" colors with her mother's voice.  Must be whatever drug they gave me, Marrisha thought to herself.

She'd closed her eyes once they'd chained her into the bed of the wagon, to suppress the faint nausea that the bright sunlight brought.  The chains were clever things, bolted low in the bed of the wagon, forcing her arms to stay down and out of sight, hiding the fact that she was bound; but the advantage of the low positioning was that she could brace herself against the sway of the wagon (which, in turn, made it appear to be a natural sitting position to anyone looking in from outside the wagon).  When the wagon started to roll forward, her stomach lurched in time with it, and she clenched her jaw to fight the sensation.

Fear is a powerful motivator, however.  When the horses started shrieking and bucking, causing her wagon to heave, and dust and pine needles pelted past her head, her eyes popped open.  All she could do was gawk at the apparition before her.  Instinctively, she knew that it wasn't real - for one thing, it couldn't be real, the dragons were all dead - but since her psionic gifts had manifested, she'd always been able to sense any animal's state of mind without trying, just by looking at it.  She didn't consciously realize it, but the reason she knew that the dragon in front of them wasn't real was because she couldn't sense anything at all from it; it was a void, as though no animal stood there.  Still, she stared, for it was an impressive manifestation - and so BIG!  Small wonder parents frightened their children with threats of being eaten by dragons!

She yelped when her wagon bounced as a leather-clad figure dropped from the tree overhead, and a sparkling blade thrust through the driver's neck.  Had she known, she'd have kept her mouth shut - her yelp alerted the other two raiders, something the third raider could not do as he clutched his throat and, his mouth gaping silently for air he'd never breathe again, toppled from the bench.  Confused and uncertain, and with adrenaline starting to course through her veins, Marri cringed back against the side of the wagon, unable to do more because of the bindings holding her in place.  Before she react more than this, the person leaped from the wagon to engage the bandit leader in swordplay.  The runnerbeasts started backing up frantically, causing the wagon to weave erratically and collide with a tree trunk.  Somehow, the beasts got turned around and bolted back toward the cave; fortunately, although their ancestors would not have consider a cave shelter (they preferred an open field where they could see and run freely), the runnerbeasts had evolved to the threat of Thread, and their instinct had changed over the thousands of years.

The wagon careened impressively considering they only had a few hundred feet to travel, and the cargo in the bed with her shifted dangerously.  One crate toppled, landing beside her and pinching her left arm against the wall of the wagon, and a barrel rolled and fell against the crate, perched precariously over her legs.  She hadn't been sure what was in the other containers, except those containing the animals, and whatever was in the barrel started to dribble out from a crack that had formed when it collided with the wagon seat.  Marri's nose wrinkled at the potent odor of cheap alcohol that emanated from the fluid that was now dripping onto her legs.  Unfortunately, the position of the crate and barrel prevented her from moving her legs enough to stop getting dripped on.

Marrisha had been in the second wagon, allowing the third raider to keep an eye on her as they traveled.  The runners had plunged into the cave and gotten wedged in the opening when the front corner of the wagon collided with the cliff face.  Unable to see the menace behind them now, though unable to move forward, they thrashed for a couple of minutes, squealing and nipping at each other until Marri had the presence of mind to reach out to soothe them.  Her technique was far clumsier than usual, owing to the drug still in her system, but at least she got them to stop making the wagon sway, which allowed her to get her stomach back under control before she vomited all over herself.  She also couldn't see what was going on - the cargo in her wagon had shifted and blocked her line of sight.

She yelped in surprise when a face materialized above and across from her, from behind the barrel which contents were still seeping from the fracture.  At this point, fear wasn't her strongest emotion - between the drug haze and her sheer mental exhaustion from fighting the drugs, she couldn't maintain that emotion for long.  Besides, the person's goggles and mask weren't that different from what the apprentice smiths in the holding wore.  The style seemed strange, though, almost antiquated.

"Sorry for taking so long, but you're safe now," the person said, and Marri assigned feminine pronouns to the woman.  The wagon creaked as the stranger climbed aboard and hefted the barrel aside like it didn't weigh nearly twice what Marrisha herself weighed.  The sour smell of cheap alcohol assailed her nose again and Marri gagged - it probably wouldn't have bothered her so if she hadn't just gasped in shock at seeing the barrel moved with such ease!

Mentally, she flinched away at first from the feather-light touch.  The adrenaline had done a lot to purge the sedative and hallucinogen from her system, but now that the bulk of the excitement seemed to be over, the crash was coming.  After a moment, she recognized the psionic fingerprint as belonging to the person who had told her they were coming earlier.  And while she was just starting to flounder under the effect of the drug again, Marri was so accustomed to hiding her Gifts that she was reluctant to reach out to it now that she was somewhat in control again.

Marrisha felt suddenly suspicious.  This woman couldn't be all bad, for sure, and she obviously had Gifts of her own, but, unbeknownst to either of them, the world had changed substantially since the end of the Weyrs.  People no longer did the right thing because it was the right thing; they did it because they got something in return, even if it was just the owing of a later favor.  Why would this woman risk her life to rescue someone else, if not for a ransom payment or other benefit?

Finally, though, her curiosity got the better of her: "Who ARE you?"

Marri didn't have any severe injuries: a number of fresh bumps and bruises and a couple of abrasions.  Her left forearm was red from being pinched between the wagon and crate that had slid against her and would probably bruise later, one one of the fingernails on her right hand was torn where it had caught in the wood as the wagon jounced around.  By far the worst thing was the headache that the drug was giving her, however.



H'lee

By the time H'lee and T'lon, as well as the other four riders, arrived back at the Weyr around noon, Silvara had already completed her rescue.  H'lee had mixed feelings about the three wagons' worth of supplies, though.

For one thing, the quality of the items they'd gotten from the Hold were substantially lower than what he was used to having.  The fruits and vegetables were either underripe or overripe.  The herdbeast steers that L'nex and X'lel had brought back looked suspiciously fat for the season, and the meat cutlets they'd acquired were marbled with a ridiculous amount of fat.  The blankets and candles Bierte and Laysa had obtained were substandard - something that H'lee would have expected to be produced by junior apprentices, and yet they had journeyman marks on them.  If this was the quality they could expect from a large Hold, with ample materials and manpower, what were things like at the smaller holds?  How good could whatever these smugglers had in their wagons possibly be?

"Well, beggars can't be choosers," T'lon pointed out.

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean one drop of dragon's blood in the sea if we can't get them from where they are to the Weyr without announcing to all of Pern that we're here!" H'lee retorted.  "Three wagons full of supplies and eight runnerbeasts?  I'm open to suggestions."  The brownrider was feeling a little bent out of shape that everyone, even T'lon, seemed to be deferring to him.  He was going to have enough people looking to him soon without adding the adult riders to the mix!  And at least some of those probably weren't going to be happy about it, either.

"Well, most of the supplies could probably be transported a-dragonback," X'lel said.  "Even the wagons could be taken between.  The runners are a different story, though..." he trailed off.

L'nex shrugged.  "We don't really need the wagons and the runners, do we?  I mean, sure, it'd be nice to have some to pull the wagons, but it's not like anyone here at the Weyr is going to need them any time soon.  We're not staying here, so who would feed them?  We could take the wagons to Benden or wherever we end up for the long haul, but we still couldn't take the runners.  I say we leave the wagons in the cave and turn the runners loose; if someone happens upon them, they can have them."

H'lee frowned.  There weren't any flaws in L'nex's logic, truthfully, but the thrifty Weyrfolk weren't usually given to waste.  He saw a couple of the other riders cast dumbfounded looks at the brownrider from Southern.  After a moment's sputtering, Bierte (from High Reaches) exclaimed, "Must be nice in Southern, where everything is so abundant that you don't have to worry about throwing anything away!"

That started a growl among the riders and H'lee sighed.  T'lon, being young and hotheaded, was in the middle.  Seeth, would you mind?  I'm tired of dealing with these ninnies.  Seeth rumbled assent and, using his best Weyrlingmaster Dragon's Voice, ordered the other riders' dragons to make their riders shut up.

Roth was the only dragon among them that outranked Seeth, but H'lee and T'lon had been friends for so long and Roth had been an Assistant Weyrlingmaster's dragon for long enough that the bronze dragon acquiesced to the brown.  In the silence that followed Seeth's order, H'lee drew on his deepest reserves of contempt.

"Look at you, bickering like children over things that don't matter.  Why don't we do the AWs' work for them and tear ourselves apart from the inside?" he said coldly, scorn dripping from every word.  Undoubtedly, his tone took most of them back to their own weyrling days when they'd been caught doing something unbecoming of a dragonrider, and most of them had the grace to look ashamed.

"We'll bring the supplies back.  We'll even bring the wagons back.  Even if we can't use them, the lumber could come in handy for something.  Turn the runners loose.  X'lel, Bierte, Laysa, I want you to go help Silvara with the supplies.  You've got the smallest dragons and they're least likely to be seen.  When all the supplies are moved, T'lon, you, L'nex, and I will go get the wagons."  That decision made, he had Seeth convey it to Warrelith.

The bluerider and two greenriders bundled up in their riding gear and grabbed the fur-lined pouches that the eggs were transported in, as well as a couple of nets, and waited for Warrelith to provide their dragons with the coordinates.



H'lee looked at the time and cursed.  They had just brought the wagons back.  He, Silvara, and T'lon were supposed to meet Learyam at the lower gate in 30 minutes, and it was nearly a mile walk down the tunnel.  "Maybe we should have brought a couple of the runners back so we could make our meeting on time.  Why did this have to happen today?" he grumbled.

T'lon just smiled.  "We'll make it just fine, brother," he emphasized the last word, in keeping with the deception they were portraying for anyone watching.

H'lee scowled at him.  "You're not the one with a bum leg," he pointed out waspishly.

"Oh, will you lighten up?  You've been in a foul mood all day, and it's bringing us all down," the bronzerider retorted.  "You're usually much more cheerful, especially when there's a prospect of meeting women to flirt with!"

H'lee rolled his eyes.  "And what makes you think there are going to be women to flirt with?" he asked.  But his friend's complaint reminded him that he needed to be watching his emotions more closely, especially with his enforced proximity to Silvara.  He shot her an apologetic look.  Their rescuee was in one of the conference rooms, presumably sleeping off the remnants of the drugs she'd been given.

The trio hurriedly washed and dressed in the best that they'd brought with them, although their Gather finery was probably so out of date as to be laughable, then set off down the long tunnel.  Their dragons watched them go wistfully.  They were near the gate when they heard the sound of horses...plural.  They halted, Silv's and T'lon's hands going to their weapons.  H'lee no longer carried a sword, it was too uncomfortable with his limp.  The chirp of a firelizard and Meesha's annoyed hiss did little to reassure the dragonriders as a figure stepped out away from the wall, pointing an electric flashlight toward them.  The beam settled on H'lee's face and the Weyrlingmaster tensed as he raised an arm to protect his eyes, ready to dive aside if anything happened.  Then the light dropped to illuminate the floor.

"My apologies, H'lee, I should have realized your eyes would have adjusted to the dark," a melodic voice emanated from the figure before them.  "Here, help me with the gate and I can bring the runners inside.  I've got a couple of packs with some clothes for you, hopefully we can find something that fits and looks good."

The male riders glanced at Silvara for confirmation that there was no one else, and receiving her affirmation, T'lon moved forward to help open the rusty gates.  He transferred Meesha to H'lee's shoulder.

"You must be Learyam," H'lee said, as Reese fluttered to his arm to say hello while her master wrestled with the gate, earning an angrier hiss from Meesha.  He gave the firelizard a quick caress on her eyeridges before making a grab for Meesha who was leaning forward and starting to climb across his chest to challenge the older gold.  Both golds took to the air and H'lee had to duck and the pair squawked at and spiraled around each other.

"Reese!" Learyam hissed, at the same time as T'lon scolded Meesha.  Reese flipped over and glided back to him, while Meesha continued to hover over H'lee's head.  "You might want to leave her here, firelizards aren't very common.  As a Harper, I get some leeway, but a lot of people don't like them."  T'lon sighed and made eye contact with Meesha, who barked her annoyance and disappeared - presumably to go tell Roth how irritated she was.  T'lon's lips quirked a few seconds later, confirming that Roth had just made some exasperated comment.

There were four saddled runners, one for each of them.  One had a pair of packs hung on the saddlehorn.  They opened these and pulled out various bits of finery, or at least what passed for finery these days.  H'lee wrinkled his nose at the stiff leather jacket, far from the supple material he was accustomed to making; the fabric of the tunic and trews was evenly woven, but it felt flimsy, like it would tear at the least provocation.  And they did little to protect them from the chill in the air.  At least Silvara got a full-length fur coat, even if the fur was summer quality!  The colors of their outfits were just...gaudy!  His shirt was a burnt orange with sky-blue trim, the leather was black, and the pants were navy blue.  H'lee drew the line at changing shoes.  He was not going to wear heels, not with his bum leg!  T'lon's gold and purple outfit was just as atrocious, but he WAS going to wear the heeled riding boots - he thought it was funny to make himself another couple inches taller than he already was.

Adequately attired, the four mounted the runners, to H'lee's relief, and rode out.  They took a circuitous route to the Hold proper, coming in through the same market area where H'lee and T'lon had been earlier in the day.  In the city lights, H'lee finally got a good look at themselves and at the horses they rode.  He didn't know much about horseflesh, but he knew enough to know they were on better-than-average nags.  All four were black with feathered feet and long manes and tails.  Add to that their colorful oufits and H'lee felt extremely conspicuous.  They got lots of sidelong glances from pedestrians they passed by as they trotted up to the Hold proper.  Yet despite his discomfort, he didn't see anyone looking at them overly long.

They stopped at the gate to the ramp that led up into the Hold.  Sometime in the last few hundred years, a wall and gate had been built up around what had once just been the cottages of those who lived around the base of the old Fort.  They walked the horses inside, where they were handed over to a pair of stableboys, who led the mounts off toward the beasthold.  H'lee grimaced at the prospect of walking up the long ramp into the central Hold, but what was he going to do about it?  Learyam quickly realized that he couldn't hustle them up the ramp and slowed his pace, taking time to point out various features of the Hold, as though they were on a tour.  They finally reached the top of the ramp and were let in through the gateway into the deserted inner courtyard.  Learyam clearly knew where he was going, guiding them to a side door, which led into a small hall.

A hush spread through the room when the door opened and the quartet entered.  Fifteen faces turned expectantly toward them.  The ages varied from mid-70s to children too young to Apprentice.  T'lon bumped into H'lee when the brownrider stopped short in the doorway.  The taller bronzerider coughed politely and nudged his friend, and H'lee shook himself from his shocked paralysis and hobbled farther into the room so his three companions could enter behind him.  As he took in the scene, his gaze lit on a young woman, seated a bit apart from the others and looking distinctly uncomfortable: Alyena, the young woman he and T'lon had been studying at the market earlier in the day.  She glanced over at them and, initially, looked away to see how the others were reacting, then spun to look at him and T'lon again.  Her eyes started wide with surprise, then narrowed suspiciously.

Learyam closed the door snugly behind them and, to H'lee's discomfort, dropped a bar across the door.  He caught the Weyrlingmaster's wary look.  "A precaution to avoid anyone bursting in on us," he explained.  H'lee pursed his lips and nodded, but didn't look particularly reassured.  The Harper put it behind him and moved forward to make introductions.

The attendees were introduced by age and relation: Lord Aleamor and Lady Rodia, Lord and Lady Holder of Fort Hold.  Lady Loraine, widowed Lady Holder of Ruatha Hold, and her sons Erhom and Lorler.  Lord Tinas and Lady Yesia, Lord and Lady Holder of Tillek Hold.  Lord Vesick and Lady Asha, Lord and Lady Holder of Nerat Hold.  Elden and Ristabel, nephew to the Lord Holder of Southern Boll.  Twins, Peruon and Polran, heir-apparents to Fort Hold.  Alyena, assistant steward at Fort Hold.  And Aren, a friend of Lady Loraine.  With the exceptions of Alyena and Aren, all of them were related through blood or marriage.  "And these are Weyrlingmaster H'lee, interim Weyrleader T'lon, and interim Weyrwoman Silvara."

During the introductions, Alyena had been scrutinizing H'lee and T'lon.  Her inspection seemed to have passed by Silvara.  In a lull in the conversation, she spoke up.  "I saw you in the Market this morning," her voice was almost accusing.  The statement drew the attention of Aleamor and Rodia, as well as the twins.  Polran took a step toward her, while the Lord and Lady Holder looked at H'lee suspiciously.

H'lee had the grace to look embarrassed, and gave a flourished bow.  "Indeed you did, m'lady.  We were purchasing some supplies for ourselves and our dragons, and hoping to glean some information about what was going on in the Hold."  He hesitated a moment, then decided to just run with it.  "Silvara and her dragon, Warrelith, are able to detect, or Search, individuals who are suitable to stand as Candidates at Hatchings.  You are one such person."  He turned to gesture at Silvara and stopped mid-gesture when he observed the tension in her posture.

Alyena was disoriented.  First, the two strange men had shown up in the Market.  She'd noticed them, but hadn't really given them much thought.  Now to find out they were dragonriders!  Her mind buzzed with questions: How had they survived?  Where had they come from?  How many were there?  Why did all these Lord and Lady Holders seem to know exactly what was going on?  Did anyone outside this room know?  Were the dragons really as big as the stories?  Did they look more like Learyam's Reese, or like the watchwhers like everyone said?

Aren had also been also studying them, but his attention soon riveted on Silvara, and his brow furrowed in confusion.  Likewise, she had been scrutinizing the group of holdfolk, and had fixated on Aren.  H'lee's gesture froze the tableau, drawing everyone's attention to the silent stare-down.  After a moment, Loraine rose and drew her sons behind her, her gaze turning hostile as it roved from Aren to Silvara, to T'lon, to Learyam, and finally settling on H'lee.

H'lee recognized the look of betrayal all too well, having felt it on his own face more than once in the past few years.  He throttled down on his own sense of impending treachery, and tried to be diplomatic.  T'lon wasn't as disciplined, and anger suffused his face as his stare locked on Aren.  H'lee cursed inwardly - the last thing they needed was for T'lon to loose a lightning bolt in the room - and clamped his hand painfully around the bronzerider's arm.  "It appears neither of our parties entirely trust the other, and therefore, our introductions glossed over some key points," he said, trying to stay calm as his hand began to tingle where it clenched on T'lon's elbow.  "We riders certainly have good reason to be cautious.  We don't have a full accounting of history between our time and now, so perhaps you also have good reason to distrust strangers."  He glanced desperately at Learyam.  H'lee wasn't the most diplomatic dragonrider, a Harper would be better able to help, but the man seemed paralyzed by what he was seeing.  "We aren't here for revenge, we came forward because of Learyam's plea, to meet Thread once more as dragons were bred!" he shouted, setting his stance and yanking hard on T'lon's arm, twisting the bronzerider off balance and breaking his glare at the holder man.  In the back of his mind, he heard Seeth bellow at the mention of Thread and he cursed aloud, realizing he might have riled the dragons up too much with that statement and Silvara's and T'lon's obvious strain.

T'lon raised his hand to fight his friend's grasp at first, until he felt the surge of anger from Roth, and realized that they were about to expose themselves to all of Pern - something they were supposed to not do yet!  He reminded himself that Silvara was more than capable of dealing with anyone - she had the most powerful Gifts known - and clamped down on his control and ordered Roth to settle the other dragons, and Meesha before she materialized beside him.

Aren hadn't broken his locked stare with Silvara.  That didn't mean he hadn't noticed what else was going on, however.  He heard what H'lee said, and it rang true.  He relaxed slightly, though he didn't back down nor look away.  "He speaks the truth, Loraine.  We have nothing to fear from them, at least as far as our identities and this mission go."  It was clear that he was referring to treachery, not to what they were physically or psionically capable of doing to others.

Alyena didn't react to the tension in the room until Polran moved between her and the dragonriders.  Only then did she notice the staring contest between the two psionicists.  She briefly felt the urge to step between them and to break their concentration.  But then Polran moved again and she realized the other two riders were already trying to divert catastrophe.  She started to get annoyed at Polran's protectiveness.  H'lee shouted something that she missed as she started to reach out to move the young man aside, but the silence that descended on the room practically echoed.  Then Aren said they were telling the truth and that they meant no harm.

Everyone stood still for a long moment, glancing from one to the other, except for Aren, whose gaze never left Silvara.  The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.  Loraine knew Aren best, and trusted his judgement, and most of the others looked to her; she also had the longest-standing relationship with and understanding of the psionicists.  Even H'lee recognized her as the dominant force in the room.  Their gazes met and they sized each other up, now that everything was laid (relatively) bare between the two parties.  H'lee knew that if Silvara had felt any solid threat of betrayal, she'd have said something by now, and apparently, Aren was doing the same for the Holdfolk.  He nodded respectfully to Loraine, and after a moment, she returned his nod and released her white-knuckled grip on her sons' shoulders.  With the return of her calm, the room immediately began to relax.  H'lee wished Lery was there.  She was better at dealing with people of rank than he.  And judging from the blanched face on the young woman he'd just told was qualified to become a dragonrider, someone who wasn't a rider would have made a good addition to their group.

T'lon saw the strain on his friend's face, as well as the girl's pallor, and realized that someone needed to be gallant, and H'lee wasn't going to be able to just yet.  He turned to Learyam, "Please tell me that Benden's vineyards still produce the best-quality red wine on Pern, and that you have some stashed away somewhere," he asked.

The Harper cleared his throat and gestured toward the cabinet behind him.  "We still consider it such, though it's harder to get now than it used to be."  The two men strode to the cupboard, retrieved glasses for everyone, as well as a couple of the glass bottles of Benden red, which had apparently been opened earlier in the evening to breathe.  As T'lon handed flutes to the guests, Learyam poured.

Something about the brief conflict was giving her a headache.  Alyena didn't understand what had brought on the sudden headache.  It was that, as much as the shock of everything that she'd just learned, that made her sink back into the chair.  She barely noticed Polran hovering over her when the taller rider gently shoved a wine glass into her hand.  She didn't realize the quality of the wine the Harper poured into it, she just promptly quaffed it.  She sat there, twirling the empty glass for a minute, trying to organize her thoughts.

Polran was dancing attendance on Alyena, who had sunk back into her chair.  It was clear to H'lee that the two were romantically involved - or at least that the young man wished it so.  The girl was still in shock and wasn't responding to him, so he wasn't sure how much reciprocity there was.  The brownrider approached a bit cautiously, knowing that he had likely overwhelmed her.  She was only here because he'd sent a last-minute message to Learyam requesting her presence.  For the first time since they'd left the horses at the gate, he finally got to sit down, and he did so across from her.  The young man eyed H'lee suspiciously, as Alyena's gaze gradually focused on the Weyrlingmaster who had just turned her world upside-down.

"I asked Learyam to invite you because I wanted to meet you.  It's one thing to see someone from a distance, it's quite another to speak with them.  I've been Weyrlingmaster for five years and have gotten pretty good at assessing Candidates' potential by meeting with them in person."

The young woman seemed to be regaining her composure, and with it, a measure of the anger she'd expressed earlier.  "So you're here to kidnap me, then," she retorted.

H'lee looked shocked.  "What?  No, we don't--where did you get that idea?" he sputtered.

Alyena pulled up short.  She didn't have a Gift for reading the truth, but she'd always been a good judge of character, and her instinct told her that his confusion was genuine.  Before she could respond, though, Polran put his foot in his mouth.  "That's what the stories say.  That dragonriders kidnap boys and girls to put in front of the dragons, and those that don't Impress become concubines for the riders who took them," he spoke with the sincerity of someone who never heard - or dreamed - otherwise.  She reached out a hand to calm him, confirming for H'lee that the two were intimate.

H'lee wanted to be dumbfounded.  But he'd just remembered his own history, how, in his ancestor Lessa's time, that same perception had been perpetuated throughout the distant Holds.  He drew a hand down his face, feeling exhausted and defeated for a moment.  If that much damage could be caused in just 400 years' time, how much worse would it be now, after 1,200 years of propaganda?  "No," he finally said, firmly.  "No, we do not kidnap children.  We absolutely do not engage in pedophilia, nor create harems to service our needs.  There have been incidents that appeared as kidnappings to someone looking on from a distance when we desperately needed Candidates, but they were not actually kidnapped.  We try our best to make sure that any potentials have the information they need to make an informed decision, and that they have the option to refuse.  But we also try to present twice as many Candidates as we have eggs, to ensure that the dragons can find someone they are suited with.  Right now, that means we need 80 young men and women.  And with the stigma attached to the Weyrs, which you, young fellow, have so adequately demonstrated, some of those that we bring in may indeed appear to be kidnapped, because we cannot risk baring our necks to the knives of those who would murder us in our sleep, and therefore won't be able to take the time to fully inform potentials of the conditions or give them the option to refuse.  In those cases, if any do refuse, we will return them to their homes, but we will have to wait until after Hatching, because the eggs are far more vulnerable than even newborn dragons."  He realized that he might have been rambling and stopped himself.  That was when he noticed that Aleamor and Rodia had approached and were listening intently to what he was saying.

He returned his attention to Alyena, leaning forward and catching her eyes with his.  "I won't lie to you, Alyena.  We're walking on a razor's edge right now.  Not enough Thread has fallen yet for the world to have recognized the threat it poses, or to lament the loss of dragons to fight it.  But if we waited to come here until that happened, the amount of loss to Thread would have been irreparable.  We risk being discovered by the descendants of those who destroyed the Weyrs, and being murdered by them ourselves.  The next few months are our most perilous time, and that peril will apply to our young dragons, who will Hatch in a month's time.  We need Candidates who are strong, independent thinkers, and not paralyzed by the threat that looms over us.  From what I've seen of you, you would more than fulfill those needs.  But at the end of the day, the choice is yours.  We cannot force you to Impress a dragon."

He looked at Aleamor and Rodia.  They nodded.  "Alyena is all those things, and more," Rodia spoke up.  Turning her gaze to the young woman, she continued, "We would miss you if you choose to go with them.  But I think you could do great things with them.  It's your decision, and we'll support you, whatever you decide."  She returned her gaze to H'lee.  "You have our support, such as it is.  Learyam can fill you in on the details, but there is a Weyr being prepared for you, far from here, away from the prying eyes of our greedy and ambitious neighbors.  It is mostly being supplied and prepared by the descendants of those Weyrfolk who survived the plague in your time, but we," she gestured to her family, "provide whatever assistance we can, as we can."

H'lee looked surprised.  He started to ask for more information about the Weyr, then realized he needed to stay focused.  He turned back to Alyena.  He felt a nudge from Seeth before he could say anything.  Warrelith says the twin boys are both potentials.  The other boys might be, too, but they're very young.  Actually, except for age, everyone in this room could be.  H'lee nearly bit his tongue and turned an expletive into a cough, and took a deep swig of the wine.  He looked expectantly at Alyena.

Alyena met the Weyrlingmaster's gaze steadily as he explained some of the things she could expect if she accepted his offer.  His blue eyes were intense, but honest.  He truly would not force her to attend the Hatching.  She wasn't sure whether, if she refused, she'd be allowed to remain at Fort Hold, at least for the short-term.  That wasn't clear from the way he had described that possibility.  She flushed when Lady Rodia spoke up in support of her joining the Weyr.  The back of her mind tingled with half-forgotten memories of dreams of dragons, the torments she'd received for her daydreams.  She flexed her arm subconsciously, then realized what she was doing.  She stared at the ends of the scars that poked out from under the long sleeves she wore, and her resolve hardened.  She wanted to see the looks on the faces of those who had tormented her when the dragons reappeared!

She brought her gaze up to meet H'lee's, her inner fire seething at the idea of riding a dragon and fighting Thread.  Raising her chin, she responded to his unspoken question firmly and with no further hesitation.  "I will go with you."  Polran sputtered a bit at the idea of her leaving, but she ignored him.  This was the right decision, and nothing, not even their adolescent romance, was going to stop her.

List of people who are there:
Lord Aleamor & Lady Rodia - Fort Hold
Lady Loraine - Ruatha Hold (Aleamor's and Rodia's eldest daughter)
Lord Tinas and Lady Yesia - Tillek Hold (daughter to Aleamor and Rodia, eldest younger sister to Loraine)
Lord Vesick and Lady Asha - Nerat Hold (daughter to Aleamor and Rodia, middle sister to Loraine)
Holder Elden and Holder Ristabel - Southern Boll (daughter to Aleamor and Rodia, youngest sister to Loraine; nephew to Lord Holder of Southern Boll)
Peruon - heir-apparent to Fort Hold (twin to Polran, son to Aleamor and Rodia, brother to Loraine)
Polran - Fort (twin to Peruon, son to Aleamor and Rodia, brother to Loraine)
Erhom - Ruatha (13-year-old son of Loraine)
Lorler - Ruatha (10-year-old son of Loraine)
Aren - Ruatha Hold (friend of Loraine, truth-reader)
Alyena - Fort (Assistant Steward, Searched)
http://reverie.rpg-board.net



Last edited by Kestrana on Mon Oct 07, 2019 10:57 am; edited 2 times in total

Silvara

Silvara
Moderator / Master Healer
Silvara easily mounted the wagon and moved the barrel that had pinned the young woman’s legs being careful to not do more harm. Once that was done she blinked as Marrisha blurted out he questions but also the wave of confusion coming from her that washed over Silvara. Thinking for a few seconds while examining the young woman’s chained position she finally spoke.

“You can call me Silvara. I heard your call for help and could not stand by doing nothing. As you can tell I am also a Psi and I am trying to give you an anchor to hold onto so the drugs in your system can't sink you back into darkness. I am a Healer among other things and my friends will be coming soon to help us deal with all of this. Please know that we mean you no harm and just want to help you.”

After that she moved careful closer to Marri and worked on undoing the chains that held her in place hoping to get her moved out of the cart partly cleaned up and at least covered in a cloak before the others arrived. She had left it up to Warrel to keep track of what was happening back at the weyr and to give location points to the other dragons as her training as a healer took point.

Once the young woman was out of the cart, as cleaned up as they could get her and wrapped in a blanket Silvara gave her a proper going over as a Healer and was pleased that she was not physically hurt worse than she was. Pulling out of her med kit on her belt she gave Marri a dose of a herbal mix that would help counteract the drug in her system. Also insisting Marri drink, nearly a full skin of, water as she was somewhat dehydrated. She knew that the stress and drugs of the situation would have Marri slipping back into sleep soon and used that to time the arrival of the other dragon riders not wanting to add the shock of real dragons onto what the young woman had faced all ready.

It took relatively little time after that to get the dragons in and out working to get the good and the young woman safely back to the weyr. Once there Silv settled Mirra into a safe space and gave clear instructions for what needed to happen if she woke while she was out with H’lee and T’lon that night to meet their hopeful allies in this new time.

--------------------------

Silvara rolled her eyes listening to T’lon and H’lee banter as they made their way down the tunnel to where they were to meet up with the many times descended Learyam. She knew H’lee was trying to control his emotions for her sake and was thankful for it even if at times it felt like he was trying to coddle her and it was starting to grate on her nerves. She understood it especially with what all had/was happening in the past.

She soon caught the feel of runners and a young man ahead of her as well as Meesha’s spark. She smiled knowing that at least it was the right person waiting for them even if he did blind them with a light to start with. When H’lee and T’lon looked to her she simply nodded indicating that he was who he was meant to be and that yes he was on their side. She was more interested in seeing what clothing he had brought and hoping they would find things that would fit. She had to stifle a laugh at the two flits and leaving it to their bondmates to sort them out.

It did not take long for each of them to get outfitted and Silv found herself fighting a smile at H’lee’s and T’lon’s outfits but not minding her own that much. Blood red shirt with a dark brown vest over it with black pants and a blue belt was not that bad of a mix. She also went with the heeled boots as they were not too different from what she already wore. She was grateful for the cape and pulled the hood up putting her face in shadow. Soon mounting up with the others.

As they rode up to the keep it was clear that Learyam knew what he was doing as no one paid them much mind. Once they arrived it was just a matter of heading up and inside taking it at H’lee’s pace. Silv was not well pleased when Learyam bared the door but knew the why and that again he was doing it to try and keep them safe so said nothing about it even as she took in those in the room. She found herself holding very still realizing with no small bit of shock that every single person in this room could be a dragon rider.

Giving herself a little shake she reached up pulling the hood of the cape back off her night black hair and exposing her blood red eyes. Her gaze examining everyone in the room even as a faint flicker of a smile crossed her lips when Alyena spoke and accused H’lee and T’lon. She would let H’lee handle this as she continued to examine all that were in the room realizing most had latent or dormant gifts but soon locking eyes with Aren. It was clear he not only had a gift but it was active and strong and she found herself examining him as she would any would be student to assess his abilities and level of power not fully aware that in doing so that she and Aren were spooking everyone else in the room.

It was only when Warrelith and the other dragon reacted to H’lee’s antics that made her remember her surroundings and quickly sent a command to the dragons to calm down. She just hoped that the sound had not been noticeable outside of the weyr. She was glad that T’lon backed up her command with his own and that his fire lizard did not come charging in to make matters worse. Once Aren spoke she smiled at him softly lessening her gaze.

“You are right young man. Clearly explanations need to be had. I am also sorry for causing tension but old habits are not easily broken. I have had to train so many gifted that I forgot that the assessment can be… distracting to those around who do not understand what is going on. Your Truth-Reading ability is quite potent. There is no threat here for either side in this matter and I think there is much both our groups could gain from alliance.”

She bowed her head slightly then turned her gaze ending the stare off to watch the others and to see what H’lee and T’lon would do now that she had vocalized her verdict but knowing H’lee would have picked up on her posture all ready. She was relieved when T’lon asked about wine and soon everyone was given a drink. It gave her a moment to center herself and reprimand herself for doing something so foolish especially with T’lon short fuse.

She moved with care to stand near H’lee while watching Alyena’s reactions to his words. She nearly swore when she heard the accusations of kidnapping, pedophile, and harems. It took nearly every ounce of control she had built up over the years of her life not to say or do anything. Trusting in H’lee to explain things clearly. In this event she was here more as back up and to make sure they were not walking into a trap or if they had to get them back out alive. She was still not fully comfortable with being the Weyrwoman but it helped that one of her ‘guides’ was her own mother. She could tell the moment H’lee had been informed that basically they were in a room full of potential candidate but the tightening in his shoulders and let a small smile flicker across her lips before returning to being serious and distant.

Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
H'lee

When Alyena bucked up under his scrutiny and firmly stated that she would accept the offer - or challenge - he had presented her, H'lee relaxed.  In his mind, that was one of the most important things about this meeting.

On the other hand, he wasn't sure how he felt about the young man's reaction.  While the lad may have been raised to believe that dragonriders weren't the scourge of Pern that had become the popular belief even in the time they had left behind, it was clear that the there were certain fallacies that persisted even in the most innocent of minds.  And despite being confronted with facts to the contrary, it was going to take time for this fellow to get over it, and it was clear he was not enamored of the idea of his romantic partner descending into the depths of depravity with these dragonriders.

He sat back in the chair and sipped at his wine, considering the youngsters before him, then letting his gaze wander, first to Rodia and Aleamor, then onward to the other members of that family.  He snorted softly and shook his head slightly in near-disbelief.  An entire family of potentials, by the First Egg!  He sighed explosively and shook himself, bringing his mind back to the matter at hand.  He looked at the Lord and Lady Holder of Fort.

"Well, while that part's settled, there's still the issue of how we transport anyone back," he started.

The Holdfolk and Learyam looked confused.  "Wouldn't they just fly back with you?" the Harper voiced the question they obviously all were thinking.

H'lee shook his head.  "Mysterious disappearances would send up all sorts of red flags, especially for someone in a prominent position, like Alyena.  We need to make things appear natural."

Holder Elden grimaced.  "Mysterious disappearances aren't all that uncommon.  It usually means the person has a psionic gift, and has been kidnapped to be added to some Lord Holder's 'farm.'  But you're right, that wouldn't work for Alyena.  Fort Hold is too well-known as not harboring that type of 'farm,' nor allowing one to operate within its borders, and a visible figure like Alyena wouldn't disappear without consequences in that case."

T'lon pursed his lips, raising an eyebrow at the other two riders.  "Could we still take advantage of that somehow, perhaps?  If the candidates disappeared while traveling, it could be assumed they were kidnapped en route."

Ristabel shook her head this time.  "The problem still remains: Alyena is too visible.  Mom and Dad would be expected to launch some sort of investigation into her disappearance."  The elderly couple nodded.  "We need to keep this in-house."

Yesia spoke up.  "Dad, you were planning to foster Polran to Tillek for a while, and we were going to be taking him with us after this.  Why not include Alyena in that?  We'll be traveling by ship, we can ensure that we're isolated, and the riders could pick her up.  Then we'll come up with some story that Alyena fell ill, and is remaining isolated, which explains why no one sees her when we get home."

Lord Aleamor looked uncertain.  "You came on the Jonbee, it's not a very big ship.  Can a dragon take on a rider from a boat like that?"

T'lon chuckled.  "Not a problem.  It might be a little unnerving for the passengers, but it's absolutely doable."  H'lee rolled his eyes and his lips twitched suspiciously, but the truth was, both of the men took a certain perverse pleasure in that portion of flight training with the weyrlings.

H'lee considered the idea from as many angles as he could think of at that point.  It seemed like a sound plan.  He nodded decisively, "That sounds like the best plan for getting Alyena transported to the Weyr."  He dismissed that situation from his mind; the issue with Polran's infatuation with the young woman would become moot, since he would continue on to Tillek Hold while she came to the Weyr.  Any issues she might have with a broken heart would be Lery's problem.  He turned to Learyam.  "So, Learyam, Lady Rodia says you have information about a new Weyr being built?"



Learyam

The Harper started when H'lee addressed him. Going from "how to get Alyena away from the Hold without drawing too much attention" to "where are we actually going" wasn't the most abrupt segue he'd ever encountered (he'd seen and heard far, far worse in Apprentice scribblings!), but he was distracted by Loraine's boys asking him questions about the dragons.

"Ahhh..." he started ingenuously. He bought himself a little time to organize his thoughts by taking and savoring a sip of Benden red. "Well, as you may recall from the newspaper articles, those Weyrfolk who survived the bioweapon were rounded up and dumped on the Eastern Isles. Over time, the islands became known as the Exile Islands. Beyond targeting the dragonriders and their dragons, there didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to why some people survived and others succumbed, so it meant that some members of every Craft, at every level of skill, were eventually transported. There wasn't any livestock to speak of at that time, so they relied on fishing for protein. They also didn't have any seed from any crops, so they foraged. There were a lot of deaths--"

The bronzerider coughed, interrupting his monologue. "I realize you're a Harper, but is a complete oral history of the Islands really necessary?" he asked dryly.

Learyam looked affronted. He was no Robinton, but still! Then he sighed. The rider had a point: how many and in what way the people survived 800 years ago was minimally important compared to the the present needs of the dragonriders. He cleared his throat. "The point is," he resumed, gracing T'lon with a sour look that clearly said, at some point, that he'd have to listen to a full recounting of the history, "enough folk of enough Crafts survived to build a thriving inter-island community. They were able to build boats, and eventually ships, that allowed them to travel between islands; they bred new varieties of edible plants to trade with a few remote mainland ports. They essentially became their own Great Holding, although they've never been officially recognized by the other Lord Holders. The trade-off with that was they were also relatively isolated from some of the...political incidents that occurred on the continents."

"War, rapine and looting, and slavery. Might as well tell it like it is," Lord Aleamor interjected bitterly.

The Harper coughed delicately. "Indeed. Well. When Thread resumed Falling, the Islands were hit pretty hard. Because of their tropical nature, we didn't have stone structures. Most of the islands are volcanic, and we were able to seek shelter in caves, but it did a lot of infrastructure damage." He hesitated at an exasperated noise from one of the dragonriders. We knew about the dormant volcano; a few people had gone there, but it's difficult to access by water under the best conditions, but the lack of human population has ensured that it's gone unmolested by the Inquisitors that periodically investigate our activities. But that wouldn't be a problem for dragons. It's shifted off the tectonic plate line, so the chance of it becoming active is minimal. We started sending Crafters to the island to try to make it habitable. And that's about when I sent Reese to you." He shrugged. "The last communication I had from the new Weyr was that the Hatching Grounds are all but finished, and a number of weyrs have been roughed out for the adult riders. In short, the new Weyr is all but ready for you. It's not quite at full capacity for staff, and there's a lot of work left to do in sections that aren't directly associated with the dragons, but as soon as you're comfortable, you can move in. Reese can give you coordinates."



T'lon

The interim Weyrleader wasn't much of a fan of lurid history as presented by Harpers, but he knew it would be important in the long run, if they were to succeed in their plan. So although he was pushing Learyam to give them a succinct report now, he knew he'd be subjected to a complete rendition eventually. H'lee had always been the historian, though, so maybe he wouldn't have to suffer through it...

He couldn't help but feel suspicious about this fantastical new Weyr. It seemed too pat, too neat, too perfect. But a glance at Silvara and her relaxed but interested posture indicated that she hadn't detected any falsehoods in the Harper's descriptions. If it was a trick, the man had been totally fooled.

Technically, these decisions were up to him and Silvara, jointly: him as the erstwhile Weyrleader, and her as the provisional Weyrwoman. But when it came to the health and welfare of the eggs...that was H'lee's call, so far as he was concerned. He rubbed his chin, trying to look thoughtful as he looked at his best friend.



Alyena, Polran, and Aren

As soon as she made her decision, some of the tension in her neck eased. That only lasted for as long as it took for everyone else to decide how she was going to get to the Weyr. She didn't particularly have a problem with the means, but she was irritated that they didn't ask her if she had any ideas. She didn't, but it was the principle of the thing.

And Polran was clearly piqued by all of this. As soon as H'lee dismissed her - that shouldn't have rankled, it wasn't the first time she'd been dismissed like that - Polran pounced. He dragged her off to a corner of the room, splashing some more wine in both of their goblets before accosting her in a harsh whisper. "Are you out of your mind?!" he hissed. "I know these three seem nice, but it's just words! How can you possibly know--"

"Oh, stop it, Polran. I've made my decision. You don't own me!" the Journeywoman snapped, keeping her voice low so as not to disturb the adults.

Aren had drifted over toward them and caught the tail end of the conversation. He cleared his throat softly. "I hope I'm not intruding. Young man, words carry more power than you can imagine. They speak the truth. I'm a Truthreader, I would know."

Polran gave the older man a superior look. "Just because what they have said is the truth doesn't mean they aren't hiding things. The easiest way to fool a Truthreader is to not say anything." Knowledge of psionic gift weaknesses was something that was retained by Lord Holders and passed onto their heirs.

The look Aren bestowed upon Polran contained not an iota of the respect the younger man had expected. "I've been at this a lot longer than you've been alive," he said coldly, "And while your statement is correct in the main, it is narrowly construed. A practiced Truthreader such as myself can detect deception by omission, as well. A fact your eldest sister is eminently aware of."

Alyena hid a smile behind her goblet of wine. She couldn't help but feel just a little sorry for Polran: his entire world was being turned upside-down, everything shaken out, rearranged, and dumped back in, with no regard to how he felt about the matter. But it was nice to see him on the receiving end of some of the attitude he liked to dish out to others he considered "beneath" him. While the young man sputtered, Aren caught her eye and gave her a quick wink.
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Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
H'lee almost laughed aloud when his best friend interrupted the Harper and asked him to stop narrating and get to the juicy details.  It hadn't been until after he and Seeth were injured that H'lee had really started developing an interest in history in general, and until then, the pair had both skimped on that knowledge, although H'lee had enjoyed reading the historical records about Threadfall and Threadfighting.  But during the several weeks of recuperation after their injuries, H'lee had had little else to do but read, and historical records were among the few things that he hadn't read before.  He was interested in knowing the details that T'lon was pressuring the Harper to skip over, but he also recognized that they were not important in the immediate sense.

Like T'lon, the Weyrlingmaster found himself a little wary of the idea of a fully-prepared Weyr.  For him, though, it had less to do with the completeness of the structure than with the sheer number of people involved in such a project; they had spent so much time trying to keep their transport forward a secret that the idea of several hundred people (at least) knowing about it was unsettling.  Having a suitable structure was a bit of luck, but setting it up to be usable wouldn't be the most difficult thing in the world, although sneaking into the abandoned Weyrs to look around wouldn't have been easy, either.  But such an endeavor would have required at least a couple hundred Crafters, if they'd been getting along as quickly as Learyam suggested, it sounded like those folk brought their families.  "How many people are at this new Weyr?" he asked.

He started to ask several other, more technical questions about the Weyr, but Learyam quickly disavowed knowledge of the specifics.  "I left shortly after they started sending Crafters to work on the facilities, so I really have no idea what they've been working on, or what the layout is like, beyond a vague list of accomplishments.  I can send Reese to get clear mental coordinates for you that will show some of the exterior updates..."  H'lee waved him off.

"When we're ready to go.  No sense in doing it right this minute."  He sighed and considered their options.  Keeping the eggs scattered among the abandoned Weyrs was far from ideal.  They would all be hatching within a day or two of each other, and there was no way to have all the Candidates attend all of the eggs without timing it, and that was entirely too risky, so they would have to bring the eggs all together for Hatching.  With the Weyrs having been abandoned, but likely being watched, that wasn't safe, either.  An independent location would be preferable when it came to that.  They still had a solid three sennights before that decision needed to be made, but the sooner they could make that decision, the sooner they could move the eggs out of the abandoned Weyrs and the lower the risk they were taking.

He caught T'lon looking at him speculatively.  He considered pushing the decision off on the bronzerider; that was part of his responsibility as interim Weyrleader, after all!  But the three of them had been making the decisions together for the riders (while Alina and Lery handled the support staff), so why stop now?  He cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at Learyam, trying to obliquely ask for a little privacy.

Lord Aleamor scowled when he realized that they wanted to discuss things in private.  The autonomy of the Weyrs was one thing that the AWs had used against them, but it had been a thorn in the side of everyone who didn't live in the Weyrs since they had been established, even those who supported them.  That resentment hadn't faded with generations of AW propaganda.  "We're risking everything to bring the Riders back, to protect Pern from Thread!" he protested.  "I think we deserve to be in on the conversation!"

H'lee winced.  He should have seen that coming.  Sikra would have; he was a little surprised Silvara hadn't.  He was so tired of people bickering about everything!  But then, he supposed Silv was, too.

To the brownrider's suprise, T'lon stepped in.  "I'm sorry, Lord Holder.  We're not trying to diminish the work you've done, nor are we trying to exclude you.  But you have to understand, we've been operating in secret for weeks, and we've experienced enough betrayals in the process to have a hard time trusting even people we've known for years, let alone someone we've only just met.  You know what they: three people can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.  The fewer people who know what we're deciding on or the reasons behind our decisions, the safer we are."

Lady Rodia laid a restraining hand on her husband's arm.  "We understand, Weyrleader," she said, giving her husband and Learyam a quelling look.  "I think Polran and Alyena need some chaperoning."  She drew the two men away from the riders.

When they were alone -- or at least, as alone as three people could be in a relatively small room with eighteen people crammed in it -- H'lee repeated his internal speculation to T'lon and Silvara.
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Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
Learyam was both more and less reluctant to be led away from the dragonriders than Aleamor was.  He had been involved in so many of the pieces of this project that he was used to being excluded from some of the decisions and details because he was off to work on another part, so he wasn't irritated by being excluded again.  He was one of the few people who had been included in every part of the project; what T'lon said about keeping a secret was all too true, and he had seen spies captured and imprisoned to prevent them from revealing their secrets.  However, he was the only Harper present, and this was potentially a momentous occasion, when a decision that could affect all of Pern could be made.  How could he miss this?!

But there was no arguing with Rodia, and both men knew better.  The only one in the family who was more stubborn was Loraine!  Rodia had noticed how Polran was reacting to Alyena's decision; she knew that both of her sons were interested in the young woman, but Peruon, as heir-apparent, had not pursued a relationship, knowing that he would most likely have to make a marriage of state.  That had left the field open for Polran; it wasn't unusual for a younger or less-favored son to take the position of Commander of a Hold's armsmen in service of his brother, and marrying a woman of similar rank in the household was equally normal.  Alyena had been tentatively starting to respond his clumsy courtship, but she had good reason to be distrustful of older, higher-ranked boys; Rodia had gotten the story of her history from the Headwoman, who had gotten it from Alyena's parents, but she had carefully kept it secret.  If Alyena wanted Polran to know, she would tell him.

However, her cautious acceptance of his attentions had now created a problem: he was more committed to the relationship than she was, and he didn't expect her to make decisions independently!  Aren had started to intervene on the confrontation, but he wasn't family.  As they approached, Polran attempted to steer the conversation back to choosing to go with the dragonriders.  Unfortunately, he chose a poor argument...

"I can't believe they would even consider someone who isn't in perfect health!  Sweetheart, I know you have done wonderfully at adapting to working in the kitchens and other household areas with your arm the way it is, but--"  Both of his parents knew immediately that he'd crossed a line, and there might be no going back from that, when Alyena's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"You dimglow!" she spat, flinging the remains of her glass of wine in his face.  She drew herself up proudly to her full height, and though her stature was diminutive compared to his, he was the one who gave ground as he coughed on wine.  "Did you even notice the Weyrlingmaster's limp?  You don't know anything about overcoming real adversity!"  Then she realized how loudly she had been speaking, and that Polran's parents -- and her Lord and Lady Holders and employers -- had been approaching.  She flushed brightly and dipped a curtsy.  "My apologies, my Lord, my Lady," she said stiffly, waiting for them to chastise her for speaking so to their son.

To her and Polran's surprise, Rodia rounded on her son.  "Polran, how dare you!  This is one reason why your father and I chose Peruon as heir and not you.  At least he has some sense of tact!"  Off to the side, with his sisters, Peruon winced; Polran blanched, and then reddened as his emotions formed a tangle of embarrassment and anger.  "I hope your sister and brother-in-law can instruct you in remembering the manners we taught you." the Lady added, turning what had seemed to her son like his first taste of freedom into a punishment.  Polran turned to his father for support, but the older man's closed expression told him he would get no quarter there.
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Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
H'lee had just finished conveying his feelings on seeing the new Weyr to T'lon and Silvara when the outburst between Alyena and Polran occurred.  He hadn't caught what the boy said, but he did hear her comment on his limp.  He shifted a bit self-consciously and wondered what on the Red Star could have prompted that line of conversation.  He nearly lost his eyebrows in his hairline when Rodia laid into her son.  He wasn't one to interfere in family squabbles, but now he really wondered what had started the women's tirade.

He dragged his concentration back to the conversation with T'lon and Silvara.  T'lon was ready to go look at the new Weyr right then and there, only delaying as long as it took for them to return to the Weyr and mount their dragons.  Silvara sagged at the suggestion.

"Not tonight, T'lon," H'lee interrupted, putting his arm around Silvara's shoulders and giving them a brief squeeze.  Only then did T'lon notice the strain the woman was under, and he muttered an apology.  "Tomorrow, let's you and I check it out."

T'lon shook his head.  "And Silvara--"

"Silv can stay in the Weyr for a day or two," H'lee snapped, feeling Silv's shoulders tighten at the mere prospect of going somewhere with more people.

"I'm sorry, Silv, but we need your Gifts!"

Before H'lee could snap at his friend, Silvara interrupted.  "No, you just need coverage for the communications Gifts.  I'm not the only one who came forward, you know." she gave T'lon a jaundiced look.  "Aqayla can cover telepathy.  Z'vier is a truth-reader.  We'll need an Empath, but that will cover all the bases."  T'lon looked skeptical, while H'lee looked relieved.  "They may not be as powerful as I am, but they are perfectly capable of handling anything that's thrown at them."

T'lon didn't look happy about it, but the look on H'lee's face told him that he wasn't going to win that argument.  "Fine.  Tomorrow.  Who would you recommend as an Empath?"

H'lee shrugged, taking the burden of that decision off his cousin.  "Most of the Healers are also Empaths.  I imagine we'll have volunteers if we ask.  We riders haven't exactly been pleasant to be around the last few days, we'll probably have more volunteers than we need if we offer up the prospect of going somewhere where we aren't!"  Silv's lips twisted in a bitter but amused smile.  H'lee knew that she'd been trying to shield all the riders from each others' tension, but she couldn't be everywhere all the time, or protect everyone all the time, no matter how hard she tried.  T'lon looked irritated at not having a firm answer then and there, and H'lee had to bite back a chuckle.  "Improvisation is the name of the game, T'lon.  We've been flying by the seat of our pants since we made this decision, why should that change now?" he asked, unable to hide a smile at his friend's discomfiture.

The Weyrlingmaster used their conference to surreptitiously look at the Holding family.  In a lower voice, he asked, "Should we try to take any of the others to Stand as Candidates?"

Silvara frowned.  Most of those who were gathered here were either too young to Stand or were too committed to other endeavors and therefore too visible to abscond with.  Loraine's sons were, technically, too young to Stand, but in recent...well, not-so-recent, now...Turns, they had been forced Candidates that were both younger and older than the standard 18 to 30.  "Any of the women except Rodia, as well as their husbands and Peruon and Polran are all of an appropriate age," she mused.  "Aren and Loraine are only just inside the age bracket.  Loraine's sons are so young, but Erhom isn't much younger than Lerane..."  H'lee winced at the subtle reminder that his two older children would be Standing.

T'lon and H'lee both shook their heads.  "We don't dare take any of the Lord or Lady Holders.  They're just too visible.  I wouldn't mind having..." H'lee squinted, dredging his memory, "Erhom.  Lorler is far too young, under the circumstances.  Peruon is committed to being Aleamor's successor, if he up and left, it would cause a great deal of talk, but Polran is already being sent off to Tillek...we could grab him up at the same time as we get Alyena, although I'm not sure she would appreciate it, if that outburst a few minutes ago was any indication."

"You know that established relationships aren't healthy for young dragons," T'lon commented drily.  H'lee favored him with an annoyed glance.

"They're not the end of the world, either.  Beggars can't be choosers, my friend, no matter how much we would like to."  He rescanned the group.  "You said Aren is only just inside the age bracket?" he asked Silvara.

The woman nodded.  "He is.  It certainly wouldn't hurt to have another Truth-reader, and he's more powerful than Z'vier is."

The man in question noticed them looking at him and cocked his head questioningly.  T'lon beckoned him over.  "How old are you, Aren?" the Weyrleader asked.

The Truth-reader blinked in surprise; that was clearly not the question he was expecting!  "Uh, I'll be 31 next month.  Loraine and I coincidentally share a birthing day."

The three riders shared a look.  H'lee shrugged.  "How would you like to Stand at the Hatching?" T'lon continued.

Aren coughed.  "That's--I--an interesting offer," the man temporized.  "I'm not sure I could accept, however.  I'm one of Loraine's advisors, I couldn't leave her unprotected, under the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" the bluerider queried curiously.

The man scowled, not at the riders, but at the topic.  "I'm not comfortable telling you much, but the short version is, both Nabol and High Reaches Holds have been attempting to annex Ruatha for several years.  It started by killing her husband in a skirmish; there were rumors at the time that an assassin had been sent to ensure the job was done, but they've never been proven.  Her father-in-law was murdered a couple of years later, and there have been attempts on her and her sons' lives.  I serve as one of several defenses against such attacks."

H'lee rubbed his chin and looked at the two boys speculatively.  T'lon saw the look and raised an eyebrow; he knew his friend had some sort of scheme in mind.  "What if..." H'lee trailed off, lips pursed as he thought.  The others waited for him to continue.  After a few moments, Silvara poked him in the ribs to get his attention.  H'lee let out an undignified squeak and twisted away from her prodding finger.  Mock-glaring at her, he brought his thoughts back to the matter at hand.  "What if Erhom and Lorler were 'sent into hiding' for their safety?  And you were one of their guardians?" he asked, looking at Aren.

Aren shifted uncomfortably.  "I couldn't make that decision.  That would have to be Loraine's.  Besides, there hasn't been attempt on them in nearly a year, what reason would she have for doing that?"  Loraine heard her name and looked in their direction.  Aren gestured for her to join them.

"An...incident...could be arranged," the brownrider shrugged, unconcerned about that.  It would only be the five of us who would know that it wasn't a real attempt.  Or a couple of others, if needed, but we'd want to keep the participant list small."  Loraine arrived just in time to catch the end of his statement.

"A real attempt at what?" she asked sharply, looking alarmed.

Aren jumped in to explain the conversation.  The Lady Holder was both unsettled and excited by the idea: the possibility that one of her sons might become a dragonrider was thrilling, but the means that H'lee had proposed smacked of desperation, and she said as much.

H'lee smiled sadly.  "We are desperate, my Lady.  I'm also not keen on separating you from either of your sons, and there's no reasonable way for you to attend the Hatching, but they -- in fact, your entire family -- would all be Searched if we could do that.  If you weren't all so prominently positioned, we'd be asking all of you to come!"  He looked a little distant for a moment as he watched Erhom and Lorler sitting uncomfortably at a table in the corner.  "My son is the same age as Erhom," he added quietly.  "It's not easy to think about letting them go."

Loraine's face softened a bit as she looked at her sons. "You said you could arrange a fake attempt on our lives, and then I could use that as a reason to send the boys into hiding?"

H'lee nodded. "I'd suggest doing it on your return trip to Ruatha. One or two of my riders can transport people to 'attack' your caravan, and then whisk them away. We'd need a location where the dragons can stay hidden, of course. I would suggest going for a kidnapping attempt; that would allow us to do it without weapons, and hopefully prevent any accidents. Do the current Lords of High Reaches or Nabol have daughters of an age that would make them suitable as a wife for either of the boys?"

Both Aren and Loraine looked disgusted at the mere suggestion; Silvara glared at him. "They both have daughters. Mordyn's is young, I think about 8?" She glanced at Aren, who shrugged. "Turgtan's daughter is in her 20s, I think. So I suppose...ugh."

H'lee grimaced in agreement. "But that makes the idea of kidnapping Erhom reasonable, if they've been trying to gain control. Force apparently hasn't worked," he quirked a smile, "so merging by marriage isn't an unreasonable idea. We can get some clothing that looks like it might have come from High Reaches to perpetuate that idea. It'll be good to put the boys into hiding after this, because if he hadn't thought of this idea before now, when you make the accusation, he will now!" Loraine looked ill. H'lee turned his attention back to Aren. "If you both agree, Aren would be among those who would accompany the boys into hiding," the Weyrlingmaster pressured again.

Aren looked pained, but Loraine nodded with a hint of relief. "Aren, they know you, they trust you. If we do this, they'll need someone they know!"

"But--"

"Yerdra can take over for you for the time being."

"She's too young!" her friend protested.

"Aren! She's reached her majority--"

"Barely," he muttered.

"--and she's nearly as good a Truth-reader as you are. She'll do fine." Loraine glared at him for interrupting her.

"She's of the age that they're looking for, send her with the boys!"

Loraine shook her head. "The boys don't know her, Aren. We can't tell them what we're doing, they're too young to keep a secret like that. They're going to have to think it's real. They'll be terrified!"

Aren looked a bit guilty. "I don't like it, Loraine. Neither Turgtan nor Mordyn have tried anything in almost a full year, but you know they haven't given up. What if they try something?"

Loraine shrugged. "What if? It's not like they haven't made attempts before when you weren't around. If we're going to do this, I want you with the boys." Aren scowled, but finally relented. He wouldn't disobey a direct order from his Lady Holder, but that didn't mean he had to be happy about it. Loraine turned to H'lee and T'lon. "We take the overland route when we travel. There are too many pirates on the sea. There are a number of areas that would be suitable for an ambush."

"Would Learyam's firelizard know of any of those places, to give us the coordinates?" Loraine pursed her lips in thought, then nodded. "Okay. We'll get that from them, then. When are you planning to head home?"

"Not for a couple of days. We don't get down here to see my parents often. We'll head home on the 18th, and it takes about 3 days to reach Ruatha, assuming we don't have any other trouble on the way. The best place for an ambush is about halfway between, because that would be farthest from either Ruatha or Fort, where we could get reinforcements."

H'lee nodded. "So midday, or early afternoon, on the 19th. We'll make the arrangements." He held out his hands, taking Loraine's. "I promise, we'll take good care of them, Lady Loraine," he said gently. "And, if they don't Impress, we'll get them back home to you safely."

Loraine and Aren excused themselves at that point, which brought the three dragonriders back to considering Polran. "I think H'lee's right. I think we should bring Polran. Erhom and Lorler are just so young, I'd feel better having older Candidates, even if they are already in a relationship. They obviously aren't betrothed, and they won't have time for getting into mischief once they get to the Weyr."

Silvara and H'lee both nodded, the former a bit reluctantly. "We should find out what that argument was about, first. It probably wasn't anything too serious, but Alyena was extremely upset. That could cause more problems than it's worth." H'lee made a face, and the bluerider smiled at him. "I will find out. I know how much you hate lover's spats," the strain in her voice belying the teasing tone.

H'lee tried to maintain the façade by sticking his tongue out at her irreverently, and earned a tight smile in return. "I'll talk to Learyam about our plans." He limped toward the Harper, who was pouring more wine for the participants and started questioning him on getting coordinates for the new Weyr, as well as likely ambush sites along the road between Fort and Ruatha Holds.
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Kestrana

Kestrana
Admin / Weyrlingmaster
Silvara made her way over to Alyena, who had moved to stand by herself in a corner, opposite Polran, who had joined his twin in talking to their sisters and brothers-in-law. She paused to pick up one of the bottles of wine before joining the girl.

"I trust you had a very good reason for dispensing your last glass on your young man's face?" she asked with a smile while pouring a generous helping of wine into Alyena's glass.

Alyena glowered in Polran's direction. "He's not my 'young man' if he keeps that up," she snapped, pitching her voice to carry. The bluerider frowned disapprovingly, but didn't say anything. Alyena lowered her voice before continuing, "He had the nerve to tell me that dragonriders have to be..." she hesitated, searching for an appropriate word, "physically perfect." She tugged at her sleeve cuff.

Silvara noticed the subconscious gesture and deftly divested the girl of her wine glass with one hand, while catching her wrist with her other hand. Before Alyena could protest, the bluerider had slid the sleeve a few inches up her arm, revealing the deep and puckered scars. The baker pulled her arm away, and Silvara allowed her to do so. "Does it cause you trouble?" she asked calmly.

Pulling her sleeve back down and crossing her arms defensively, Alyena shrugged and looked at the floor. "I've learned to use my left hand for most things instead. It might sometimes slow me down, but it doesn't stop me."

Silvara smiled. "Good. That's good." Alyena looked up, truthfully a bit surprised. "You used the right argument when you pointed out my cousin's injured leg," the bluerider chuckled. "The Weyrs can use anyone, whole or injured, but we can't use someone who's dead, either literally or figuratively! You have nothing to worry about, as far as that goes."

Alyena blinked, trying to wrap her mind around that. So often, especially in the larger Holds, someone who was injured was displaced. There were slums at the edges of many holdings where those who had been ousted from their positions due to an injury and could not afford Healing would crawl off to live in misery and filth until they eventually died, as often by their own hands as those of their fellows. The only reason she hadn't been relegated to such a life was because she had been a child when it happened, and had been able to make herself invaluable despite her injury. And, well, her parents choosing to move to Fort from Benden hadn't hurt, either. "Is that..." she stopped, flushing with embarrassment and ducking her head.

After waiting a moment, Silvara prompted her, "'Is that' what?"

Alyena shifted uncomfortably, then snatched up her glass of wine again and took a gulp. "Is that why...why he's..."

"Ah. Why he's the Weyrlingmaster?" Alyena nodded, her gaze still locked on the wine in the glass, as she swirled it around. "Partly. Young riders have a tendency to think of themselves as invincible. Well, younglings in general," she amended with a snort, which drew a tentative smile out of Alyena. "Seeing that even riders can be injured helps curb some of the worst behaviors at least. But he's also a good teacher, which is a much better reason for him to be Weyrlingmaster."

Silvara let the young woman think about that for a bit and take the time to go from gulping down the wine to sipping it. "Now, about young Polran..." she began, carefully watching Alyena's face. Alyena sighed, and wrinkled her nose, but didn't make any indication that they had any real problems. "Are you and he a couple?"

Alyena tittered a bit; the wine was going straight to her head! "No. Yes. I don't know. We've been seeing each other for a little while, but..." She shrugged. "He's nice enough. He just...doesn't know what goes on outside of the Hold's walls. I don't claim to know everything, but at least I go to the market for supplies. I see things, I hear things. He doesn't."

Silvara nodded. "Well, at least that hasn't changed!" She studied the twins, thinking. They practically coalesced with rider-potential. Maybe Gift-potential, too, although there was enough ambient noise in the room that it was hard to tell for sure. She realized that Alyena was looking at her curiously, and shook her head slightly. "There are always some in every generation -- not just in the Holds, either! -- who are...sheltered. Some can handle being taken out of those shelters, some can't."

"Lord Aleamor and Lady Rodia aren't tender. They're fair and kind, but firm.".

"So you think they'd do alright if someone brought them out of their shells?" Silvara asked. Alyena shrugged, and nodded noncommittally. "Will it cause problems between you if we bring Polran to the Weyr at the same time as you?"

Alyena made a face. "Not for my part. I don't know how he would handle both of us going..." she scrunched her forehead, trying to figure out how to explain it. The wine was starting to fog her thinking.

"He would be capable enough, but he might not like being separated from you, or seeing you be independent?" Silvara asked, trying to clarify the issue.

"Yeah, something like that. He might think if we're both going that it means I want to keep seeing him. I'm not sure if I do...I haven't really been sure for a while, though. But I haven't told him that!"

Silvara nodded and patted Alyena's shoulder, before striding off decisively to talk to T'lon.
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While H'lee went to speak with Learyam, T'lon made his way over to the cluster of Lord Holders, which also included Lady Rodia and Lady Loraine, although the other Lady Holders were off to one side, talking with their younger brothers.  The bronzerider wasn't the most diplomatic of individuals that could have been chosen for their mission, but it was what it was, and he had responsibilities.

After reintroducing himself and trying to fix their faces with their names, he settled down to try to get what information he could.  "So what is the current political situation?  Which holders would support us, and which won't?  Which are likely to do more than just not support us?"

Aleamor gestured to the group. "Well, obviously, we support you. We'll do whatever we can to continue to do so. We have long assisted the Exiles when we could get away with sending ships with supplies. That ability has been severely curtailed by the sanctioned piracy orchestrated by High Reaches, Nabol, and Ista. Nearly every ship larger than a mid-sized fishing trawler is monitored and often boarded and inspected at random."

"Our sloop, the Jonbee, is small enough that it's not usually boarded," Tinas interrupted. "But likewise, it's not large enough to cross open water safely except maybe in late spring or early summer, with perfect weather conditions."

Vesick nodded. "We have a small schooner, about twice the size of the Jonbee, and it gets stopped nearly every time Asha comes to visit her family."

"Shipping lanes are managed by the larger Holds, and enforced by the presence of pirates. Straying more than a few hundred yards outside of an established shipping lane is an invitation to be boarded, even for something as innocuous as being blown off course by a storm. We've been able to sneak a ship out to the Islands by charting a course through a storm at night, and it returns the same way, but with a new name. It's not foolproof, but it's the best we've been able to do. The Exiles have proven to be quite resilient and inventive, though, and have done well despite being ostracized and denied basic supplies for so many Turns."

"It's good to know we have the support of more than just those living on the Islands," T'lon acknowledged. "I wish we dared try to Search your holdings for Candidates like we did in the old days. Ruatha especially was known for producing strong dragonriders."

Loraine smiled demurely. "I hope we will again, Leader."

Rodia looked puzzled. "But I thought you said that Alyena was Searched?"

T'lon temporized. "Silvara and her dragon, Warrelith, have a unique bond, and Silvara has powerful psionic Gifts. As a result, they're able to Search without having to be in near physical contact with those they're Searching, but most of the dragons need to be able to, at least, see the potentials. That's why, traditionally, dragonriders would go out on Search, and would land at every major holding and encourage the holders to bring all of those of eligible age to see them in person. But even their abilities have limitations, and Searching Alyena was really more lucky chance than intentional design." No sense in telling them that H'lee could extend those limitations somewhat, through his familial relation with Silvara... The holders appeared to accept the explanation at face value, at least. "That being said, anyone who is between the ages of 15 and 30 may choose to present themselves at the Weyr to become a Candidate, regardless of whether or not they've been Searched. If you know of anyone in that age group who could be smuggled to the Weyr, they'd be very welcome!"

There was a short pause as each of the adults considered who they knew in that age bracket. Aleamor cleared his throat. "Ahem, but back to your original question..." T'lon nodded vigorously and gestured for the Lord Holder to continue. "As you may have gathered, Mordyn of High Reaches, Turgtan of Nabol, and Lady Bysi of Ista will not be friends to the Weyr. High Reaches and Bitra, run by Lady Alma, are the two Holds that operate the 'Inquisitions' of the Exile Islands -- semi-annual inspections where any documents that demonstrate support for the ancient Weyrs or dragonriders, or technology known to have been invented or sanctioned by the Weyrs, are destroyed, and anti-Weyr publications are distributed. Wanted posters for dissidents are posted, as well; Learyam's been on their list for several years now!" The holders seemed to take a certain amount of pride in the fact that Learyam had, thus far, escaped detection while traveling widely. "You can't expect any support from Lord Wormos of Crom or Lord Barot of Lemos, and I doubt Lord Emanu of Igen would support you, at least not openly. Southern Telgar is perpetually under siege from Ista and Igen, but if you could promise them protection, I believe Lady Talih would openly support you; they're small enough that perhaps protecting them from Thread, inside their borders, and allowing it to fall on their neighbors, might suffice. Lords Jade and Pomar of Keroon and Benden would likely support you, especially if you could establish riders in the old Benden Weyr."

Just then, Silvara approached the group and murmured something to T'lon before withdrawing.

T'lon turned his attention back to Lord Aleamor and Lady Rodia. "Would you be opposed to Polran also being transported to the Weyr, with Alyena?" he asked.

The pair looked surprised and shared a speculative look, then Rodia went to retrieve their sons. "It...would be an honor, but only if he and Peruon agree. They've never been separated by any great distance before."

When the question was put to them, Polran looked skeptical, but Peruon looked rather jealous. "You lucky snake!" he said. "I'd trade spots with you in a heartbeat!" Confronted with that bit of competition, Polran immediately accepted.

"Well, then that's settled." The Weyrleader glanced at the clock on the wall and cringed. "We had better be getting back to...going, if we're going to make an early start of it tomorrow." He pitched his voice so that H'lee, Silvara, and Learyam would hear him. He saw the Harper pout, and even H'lee looked disappointed. The brownrider said something to Learyam, and the man grinned, shook his head, and retrieved a couple of unopened bottles of wine. T'lon rolled his eyes, but chuckled appreciatively.

The four of them gathered up their cloaks and parted ways. At the bottom of the ramp, they waited while a servant fetched their horses, then mounted and left the way they had come in.

"How will the horses be returned to the Hold?" the bronzerider asked once they reached the gate into the Weyr.

"They're smart ones. When we're ready to vacate the Weyr entirely, we can turn them loose, and they'll find their way home on their own." The Harper didn't seem at all concerned about that question.
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