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A Visit To Benden Hold


Date:  February 21, 2008
Place:  Igen Weyr's Weyrling Training Field; Benden Hold's Courtyard
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Sria kindly postponed this trip until I got back from
moving cross-country--I missed the Dragonhealing lesson and *between*
training in the interim, more's the pity for me.  It was fun to get
back in the swing of things with a jaunt over to Benden to meet Lady
Jeracynn and tell her what became of those extra nuts in her tithe. :)

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The Log:

You glide over to land in the training field.

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles,
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.

Dragon> Sruth bespoke Igen Weyrling Wing with << Weyrling Training Field
time for all attending. Those in pirate outfits and otherwise. >>

Nergath walks out from the Weyrling Barracks.

W'adru walks out from the Weyrling Barracks.

Formality to W'adru means well kept earthtones. Brown jacket and trousers,
along with a dark cream colored tunic accompany the large leather boots on
his feet. His brown eyes are sharp and clear and his black hair, having
grown back a little, has been neatly trimmed and brushed into place.
Nergath, also, shows the effects of having had a recent bath and his eyes
whirl with anticipation. As the pair approach their spot, the twins forming
up on either side in matching dark blue outfits, smile at their friend.

Sruth is for some reason looking quite pleased with himself this afternoon.
Sria is by his side, returning salutes and waiting for the usual lineup,
removing her flying jacket - standard dark leather, though with a
particular sheen - from a pack on Sruth's straps. Weyrlings gather, fixing
straps and adjusting collars.

Ashryl marches proudly out of the barracks with green Monarcth following.
Ashryl's dress is green and nearly on the edge of something one would wear
to a formal gathering. The skirt cuts off just at her ankle, a very simliar
shade of green to Monarcth's own hide. Somewhere she got a pair of matching
green shoes as well, and the simple chain around her neck features a lovely
green stone pendant hanging down to just beneath her collarbone. Her hair
is carefully brushed and preened into place, a very simple yet elegant
looking job of taking her slightly long hair in the back and pulling up,
almost as if a dark haired wave were rolling down her neck towards her
shoulders.

For Kassima formality seems to mean black and red and silver in defiance of
Igen sunlight. She keeps to the shade provided by Lysseth's half-furled
wing, and it's not hard to guess why. "D'you think they've any guess...?"
Lysseth declines to answer the question in favor of giving each Weyrling
dragon a critical looking-over. Clean, oiled hides, check; claws polished,
check; Sh'sen and his young blue both proud in their red and purple...
sigh. Check.

Sria glances across the class as they form up, a lifted eyebrow here and
there for a too-casual salute, and then a second glance entirely for
Ashryl's getup. "They ought to by now, all the rumors I heard were close
enough. Wish my dress leathers weren't so...gray," is the word she settles
for, though perhaps wasn't the first one thought of. Pitched louder:
"Ashryl, I would hope you're not showing up to class in something unfit for
flying and going Between." She pauses. "I do like the necklace, though."

Ashryl's reply is silken, soft. "Not at all, Weyrlingmaster. This dress
comes with matching leggings. I expect we'd do just fine." she looks down
at the necklace. "This thing? It really doesn't suit me. The stone is just
so....small. After this is over you can have it if you want it."

W'adru indeed does take a moment to fuss with his collar before turning to
eye Nergath.

"'Twill take it if'n you don't," Kassima offers to Sria. "If'n that skirt
blows up and makes you look foolish a'fore the dignitary then on your head
be it, Ashryl. Literally. Would've done better t'be emulating W'adru.
Anyway," back to Sria, "I thought 'twas Josilina who had the problem with
grey?"

"How generous of you," Sria replies, with a sidelong glance to Kassima that
no doubt reads further comment. "Form up, class. We'll be visiting Benden
Hold today." A grin to Kassi: "She does. Apparently I default to -her-
excuses when I'm unable to think of my own." - "They are gray, though.
Which I rather like. Maybe for graduation." The g-word, dare she speak its
name. Back to the class: "All right, let's get a move on. Mount up! You'll
be following Sruth, Lysseth will take up the rear. You all know the Benden
Hold airspace. Visualize."

Sria clambers up onto Sruth's back, the dragon's sparkling eyes watching
closely.

W'adru nods and turns to Nergath, mumbling something low before making his
way astride the broad bronze neck.

W'adru climbs up onto Nergath's neck.

Kassima suggests helpfully, "Have 'em dyed orange; then they'd be suited
for any occasion," with a smile that's just too sunny, and mounts up on
that note.

You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly.
You grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered
foreleg.

<*> From atop Sruth, Sria chuckles. "There is that. Then I'd have to give
them to her, and I don't think she'd wear them no matter the color." - "All
right, follow up!"

<*> Sruth glances upwards, then springs into the air.

<*> Nergath watches the ascending dragons. When his turn comes...

<*> Nergath glances upwards, then springs into the air.

<*> Lysseth springs from the ground, the air from her wings churning up
dust as she takes to the skies.

You wing cautiously up into the Bowl.

<*> Sruth leaps into the sky.

IgenW-Bowl> Midway up in the Bowl, Sruth disappears into Between.

<*> Nergath leaps into the sky.

You leap into the sky.

Dragon> Sruth bespoke Igen Weyrling Wing with << The command is 'dtu btw
bendenhold' :) >>

<*> Nergath again waits his time, patient and calm. Those before him pop
between, then comes his turn.

<*> Nergath disappears into Between.

<*> Lysseth disappears into Between.

Between
You gasp as the icy black nothingness of Between surrounds you! You hear
nothing, see nothing, and feel nothing. The trip takes five heartbeats...
Contents:
Nergath
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!

You suddenly emerge...

<*> Lysseth emerges from Between with a blast of cold air!

Dragon> Sruth bespoke Igen Weyrling Wing with << Then we're going to head
down to the courtyard from there. CY should do it. >>

<*> Sruth spirals down to land in the courtyard.

<*> Nergath spirals down to land in the courtyard.

<*> Lysseth trumpets a greeting to the watch pair as soon as she's out of
*between*; while it still echoes she furls her wings and drops, hard on the
heels of the formation.

You spiral down to land in the courtyard.

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles,
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.

Sria gives the signal for the weyrlings to dismount, and then watches them
all with a gaze all but blazing. Conduct is everything.

W'adru slides down Nergath's side to the ground.

The redheaded weyrling dismounts her blue and stumbles slightly on the
landing, getting two booted feet beneath her with some extra care in the
new setting. She looks around to see if there's anyone nearby she ought to
be saluting, while trying to keep an eye on the weyrlingmaster staff for
any instructions.

No more jokes about orange and skirts flying up for Kassi: her dismount is
as polished as her boots, and her hands clasped behind her back in full
formal posture. She seeks out Ashryl in particular to watch. Go figure that.

Ashryl, green dress and all, drops lightly to her feet next to her green
lifemate. After dropping to her feet she takes a half step to the side and
assumes a parade rest type position, chin up proud and eyes full of vigor.

Jeracynn's hardly dressed for the stables, but it's from there that the
Lady arrives instead of the main doors as one might expect. The dragons
arriving in her Courtyard are hardly something one can overlook, and so
it's that she stands for a long moment, admiring it would seem if one
judged by the smile she wears as she pauses just to watch.

W'adru drops to his feet and takes a step to the side and also assumes a
parade rest type position, hands clasped behind his back, his brown pants
and jacket still unscathed, same fo rhte creme colored tunic. To his sides,
the pairs riders are dressed in a dark blue and light blue matching
outfits, pants and jackets with grey tunics beneath.

Sria eyes the forming ranks, then turns as she notes the Holder's entrance.
"Lady Jeracynn," she says, clear enough for any of the weyrlings who didn't
know it by sight or logic, "Very kind of you to host us. We all appreciate
it. May I present assistant weyrlingmaster Kassima and the current Igen
Weyrling class to you."

Kassima fires a clean, sharp salute to the Lady Holder. "'Tis a pleasure
t'be making your acquaintance, Lady." Why this should amuse her may not be
self-evident, but it does. That twitch of a hidden smile says so. "Our
honor 'tis t'be here and get a close-up view of what we protect." The
meaningful glance she shoots Thari suggests the Weyrling had best agree
with this, and perhaps stop that fidgeting.

Jeracynn chuckles much like one caught out for a moment, moving forward as
her presence is noted. Her posture and demeanor both relaxed and still
cloaked in innate formality as she steps closer and then greets, "Benden's
duties to Igen Weyr and her queens. Weyrlingmaster, it is lovely to see you
and your class out and about. We are ever pleased to host the Weyr's
visits. Kassima. It's good to you here as well. I'm sure your son is about
here somewhere and will turn up if he's not so lost in his calculations."

W'adru waits for his cue, otherwise content to stand there and enjoy the
sights and sounds of somewhere he's only visited once or twice, not
entirely hiding the smile.

Sria grins, once the first few introduced weyrlings haven't shamed her too
horribly. "The weyrlings are getting to know the Benden airspace rather
well, as I'm sure anyone who's been on the fireheights can attest. Lots of
practicing." She glances down the line, introducing the rest of the small
class, giving the rider name and allowing them to add their dragon's. Some
do so rather timidly, others barely audible. "...And Ashryl, and W'adru."

Ashryl draws herself up even prouder. "Monarcth!" She says proudly,
accopmanied by a low rumble from the green. Like the others as she gives
the name of her lifemate, it is coupled with a salute.

W'adru waits his turn and snaps up a salute. "Nergath." he states in a
calm, firm voice. His deep baritone matching his six-five frame. Nergath
lowers his head down and eyes his lifemate.

"Good luck with that," Kassi breaks formality long enough to say wryly.
"Watch: he'll do something involving grain futures all night and miss this
very prime chance t'share good Benden wine with his mother." Although she
shakes her head oh so slowly, oh so sadly, her eyes when she raises them
again gleam with pride. "--Ahem. Sorry. Rhueth's rider," she says, nodding
to the young woman in question, who's trying to hide her own pride and not
nerves, "came from here originally, I do believe. I don't know whether
anyone else has visited ere this?" It's a question for the Weyrlings and
not the Lady.

"I had heard something to that effect, yes." Benden's Lady tells Sria as
she allows all to see a glimpse of her amusement before polite interest
predominates and she nods to each, both dragon and rider as they are
introduced. "I'm pleased to meet you all." For Kassima, however, Jeracynn
adds an extra chuckle, "Yes. I'm afraid that wouldn't surprise me."

Ashryl answers the Assistant Weyrlingmaster's question. "I believe most of
us have only been here for the nut harvest." Her tone is firm, silky and
full of pride. Yep.

Chagrined, Kassima winces. "The nut harvest. A'course 'twere here for that.
As I should remember, shouldn't I just." There's a rumble from Lysseth
that's definitely some sort of comment, but to Kassi's credit--
arguably--she doesn't react. "Welladay; someone tell what became of 
Benden's extra tithe, mayhaps? Unless you've heard the story, Lady?"

"Sounds like my cousin," Sria puts in, once discussion of 'grain futures'
comes up. "Generally we just direct letters straight to the records rooms."
Exaggerating, maybe. "Now they've touched down at the Hold itself, maybe
they'll find the occasional spare moment to do a proper visit, now and
again. Though I'm told they don't have much time for these things." She
seems all right with that, as a whole. At Kassima's query, she nods,
smiles, echoes: "Have you? The weyrlings, as former candidates, have a
unique view on the tale."

Ashryl, all too eager to contribute it would seem raises her hand to
volunteer.

Sria seems to hesitate for a moment, then concedes: "Ashryl, Monarcth's
rider," for now - maybe that's a not-so-discreet reminder, "Would you like
to begin?"

Curiosity overtakes the Holder's expression and she casts a sideways glance
at both Kassima and Ashryl, "No. I can't say that I had heard about it as
yet." Jeracynn grins then to Sria, "Yes. That's usually a safe bet for
finding my Steward too. There or his office. Though he uses the one as much
as the other I expect." She nods with the next, "We'll welcome any and all
visits of course. Though we of course understand time is short for such
things." As she says this last, she glances again from one to the next
before nodding to any of the weyrlings that happen to catch her eye before
she turns her attention to the forthcoming story.

"'Twas an interesting event," Kassima says, looking sidelong towards the
storyteller. "I'd put the wager on Records Room. Something about moldy
hides has an unbelievable allure, apparently--if'n A'deth were here, you
could ask him."

Ashryl takes two measured steps forward and drops a very formal looking
curtsey into the beginning of her tail. "The most generous supply of nuts,
it was decided, would be turned into a wide variety of delicious treats.
We, as candidates, were going to have the opportunity to make them.
However, this came with a condition." she turns to give a glance up the
line, but catches herself. "There was a plan to prepare a surprise for the
Weyrwoman, which went a bit awry. As a result we had to wear some
rather..unusual garb."

"Let me stop you there, Ashryl." Sria says, with delicacy. "W'adru, would
you mind taking over the telling? I remember one outfit in particular."

Keveris walks out of the working caverns.

Kassima can't resist throwing in, "As does the Weyrwoman, I daresay."

Whether this is the best time for a man to wander out of the Winecraft work
zone with a sheaf of hides under his arm depends, perhaps, on one's
perspective. Keveris takes in the array of gleaming dragons with a glance.
Quiet and inobtrusive, he skirts the edge of the yard until he's come to
stand behind and beside Jeracynn, apparently content to hang in the
background while taking the measure of the conversation.

W'adru looks a bit uncomfortable, but gathers himself, with a supporting
wuff from the bronze next to him. He steps forward two steps and salutes.
"Lady Jeracynn, an honor." he says in a smooth enough manner. "As Ashryl
was saying..." he casts a look at the greenrider, their eyes lock for a
moment, and not in the most pleasant of ways before he returns his gaze to
the Lady Holder. "We were working on a gift for the Weyrwoman, when there
was an accident involving some clothes, linens and a lot of purple dye." he
pauses to shift his feet. "As a result, we were ordered to make outfits for
ourselves, in the color purple, to wear during the making of these
desserts. There were quite a variety of outfits. I think of one right off,
a purple and orange number that I still see in my dreams. Quite an
unforgettable outfit." Ashryl's glare back at W'adru goes unmet.

Ennevai mutters not quite under her breath, "Dreams? More like nightmares."

Jeracynn's chuckle is all the response Kassima gets, paired with a nod and
a simple "Indeed," over the matter of her Steward. The story is listened
too, as much as Ashryl gives of it, with apparently her full attention,
though she follows the shift that Sria determines, with her brow raising as
her interest does. Her focus falling, after a faint pause to be sure of the
right rider, to W'adru. "Oh my. It sounds as if you all found a both fun
and creative use for for those linens. I wish I could have been there to
see." She smiles graciously, inclining her head to both riders who've spoken.

Kassima volunteers, because someone surely must, "He hasn't even mentioned
the billowing pants our Weyrwoman admired. 'Twas a shirt t'go with 'em, I
recall, but what I remember best is the pants, in all their purple... words
fail. I wanted t'be owning them along with Beli's fur wrap and the glorious
hat one lass wore--so I could put it all together, y'ken."

Sria says, for Lady Benden's benefit, "I might add that the event,
involving the purple outfits, was my first glimpse of my future weyrlings."

W'adru take advantage of the moment to again salute and take steps back to
his spot next to Nergath, the bronzes eyes whirling with all sorts of mirth.

Ashryl sneers, just a teensy bit, but also returns to her place next to the
green.

Keveris's expression becomes rather pained, at least for the moment before
he gets control of it again. He clears his throat. "Benden's duties to Igen
Weyr and her queens," the young man offers, nodding gravely to them.
"Welcome, Weyrlingmaster and Weyrlings. I'm sorry I seem to have missed
your arrival."

"Billowing pants, a fur wrap... Was it purple too, and the hat?" Jeracynn
wonders out loud, as she does with the next directed W'adru's way, "So did
you keep the outfits?" Grinning then to Sria, "Quite an introduction, I'd
imagine. I wont put you on the spot by asking if they continue to live up
to such." A wink and then she's looking over her shoulder to tease dryly,
"Ahh, Keveris. We were wondering if you'd escape the latest figures."

W'adru nods, flushing just a touch. "Yes, Ma'am. Most of us still have them."

Sria notes Keveris with a salute, "Igen's duties," she returns, watching
the weyrlings for similar, noting any misses, and then glancing over to
Kassima. "Thank you for having us, Steward." To Jeracynn, she continues the
smile, "Oh, it was all very purple, of varying degrees and intensities. I
think somehow it might have been additionally overwhelming, seeing them all
together in the kitchen as it was, as opposed to the bowl or such." She
grins, wide, and bobs her head, "I'm grateful for your tact in avoiding
such a query."

"Oh, aye." Kassima nods enthusiastically. "The fur even had stones on it
for some reason. I did get R'yki's vest--purple and white streaked,
'tis--that's something, but without the pants it doesn't have quite the
panache I imagined. Isn't it sad? W'adru's taken well enough
t'Weyrlinghood." The greenrider nods to the young man. It's faint,
judicious praise, but praise nevertheless. "The only major complaint I have
is this unwillingness t'be surrendering pants. Stars know, though, there
are far worse faults a young rider could be possessing."

Several small and a couple of not so small snickers accompany Kassima's
remark. W'adru's head ducks a little.

Keveris taps the hides still tucked beneath his arm. "I was meeting with
some of the Vintners to discuss the grapes," he explains. "Thus far the
crop appears up to standard. You are very welcome, Weyrlingmaster--" The
returned of the pained face, though, suggests they might be more welcome if
Kassima would stop discussing W'adru's pants for five seconds. Poor Kris;
maybe the shadows will hide his embarrassed color. "I am always glad to see
Igen pay a call. Err... Lady, did you have any other tasks for me this
evening?"

Sria grins. "I forgot about the fur with the stones." All the pants talk
could indeed be considered incriminating, but current company seems pleased
enough with it. "You'd do it the same way again, I hope?" That to the
weyrlings as a whole, but she does look at head-ducking W'adru for a beat,
if she can catch the poor weyrling's eye. "Though what would your lifemates
have to say about it all, I wonder."

"I haven't seen your Weyr's kitchens to know the scale of them, but I can
well imagine it would have been somewhat overwhelming at the least."
Jeracynn tells Sria and then she nods again, "But of course." She listens
again, for Kassima's descriptions and then chuckles, "well, perhaps you
should show them to the weavers and see if you can start a new clothing
trend?" A glance at W'adru, "The pants that is, of course." And another
glance for Keveris, enjoying for a moment, his discomfort for the subject
but then letting him off the hook, "I suppose the usual drinks would out of
the question for the weyrlings, but we could still offer refreshments?"

W'adru does a good job of averting his eyes, without looking like he is. He
is, in fact, looking at the eye of Nergath aimed in his general direction.
When the question is asked, he turns and nods along with the twins, one to
each side of him. However as he starts to turn back to Nergath, his gaze
rotates past Sria, catching her look, the head pauses...

Rather wistful, Kassima says, "There'd nay be much occasion t'wear fur at
Igen... if'n I'd had that for a Hatching outfit 'twould've died. Roasted
into sandwich meat right there on the Sands. Nay anyone needs t'see that.
Moral of the story being, sometimes 'tis better nay t'give anyone your
pants." The more you know! "That isn't a bad idea, though, Lady. They
looked cool enough for desert wear."

"Refreshments sound like an excellent idea," Keveris agrees. His nod is in
fact almost vehement. "In the Great Hall? The unfermented juice is not to
be disdained."

"Refreshments would be excellent, before we head back to Igen," Sria says,
including the weyrlings in her nod. "Thank you." Kassima's wisdom makes her
laugh aloud, "Pants, though, and fur, are entirely different. One hopes,
anyway."

A few more snickers, perhaps even a giggle or two. W'adru's head ducks
again, but otherwise he keeps held to the parade rest position.

Jeracynn tells Kassima, "Perhaps you could find an event in a cooler
climate. Like here during a winter gather." She gives a warm smile then and
nods before she glances to each and then says on, "I've something I need to
attend to, it shouldn't take long, but perhaps I can catch up with you then
before you finish if refreshments do indeed appeal."

Oh, dear: Sria has given Kassima an Idea. "Fur pants," the greenrider
muses. "Purple fur pants? That might be overdoing it a touch." Goodness,
you think? "Couldn't make 'em billow as such, could you--fur doesn't--but
what a conversation-starter. What about bells at the cuffs?"

"Please," Keveris gives up all poise to plea, "please, Mother, no furry
belled pants at a *Benden* winter Gather. Please?" He darts Jeracynn an
almost accusatory glance. Look what you've done now! "If you all would join
us in the Hall," he draws up his dignity to invite the Weyrling team. "We
will do our best to find whatever drinks you might like, barring alcohol."

"Fur pants," Sria echoes Kassima's mad genius. "A touch, perhaps. Though if
one's going to do such a thing, they might as well be purple - " not all
that much more seriously, the first was sober enough, she smiles: "That
would be perfect, then we'll head back."

Jeracynn's look that she returns to Keveris is all innocence, though
perhaps not believably so, "Exellent." She tells the gathering and gestures
them towards the Great Hall, before leaving them in Keveris' charge for a
time.

[Editor's Note:  Everyone needed to go at this point, so it's 
assumed  the visitors stayed for refreshments in the Great Hall 
and then headed back to Igen.  Log ends. :) ]