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Eggland's Best


Date:  February 14, 2005
Places:  Telgar Weyr's Southern Bowl; Ista Weyr's Southeast Bowl and 
Hatching Galleries.
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:  I have named a log after a brand of eggs.  I can't 
decide whether this is a new personal high or a new personal low. ;)
It seems like Stavren's sisters were able to behave themselves after 
all--mostly--and so Kassi keeps her word to take them and Stavren 
himself out to see Ista's clutch, with M'tri in tow.  Surprisingly, 
nobody gambles.  Not even a *little*.

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The Log:

You fly downwards towards the bowl.

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.

Stavren is perched on a large, rather high rock, mostly to avoid mud
puddles. Also to keep out of the way of his small sisters, who are
celebrating the melting of the snow by running around like lunatics. He
waves at Kassi as Lysseth lands, and sticks two fingers in his mouth to
whistle the girls away from the green. "Don't bother Lysseth, you two,
she's not quite like Daikoth. Evening, Kassi. Come to laugh in the face of
melting snow?"

Enter Kassima, stage... up, I suppose, and humming. The Wingleader swings
down from on high and gives her lifemate's neck an automatic thump of
appreciation before announcing, as if Lysseth mightn't have noticed for
herself, "Spring! Spring! All the men in the Weyr aren't freezing their
bollocks off! Only *half* of them. Because 'tis Telgar." Naturally, it's
only after saying this that she notices the presence of children. She has
the grace to look momentarily abashed. Stress on momentarily, mind you.
"About as un-Daikothlike in some ways as 'tis possible t'be. Aye, something
like; thought I'd snag some dinner, and generally rejoice in the fact that
you can actually go outside without your breath instantaneously freezing in
your lungs today. You?"

"About the same," Stavren says agreeably. "It was time we had something new
to play in, anyway. Snow was getting boring." Cashie and Aldria giggle,
heads bobbing. "That, and Mum said they needed fresh air and all that
stuff." He lifts an eyebrow in silent inquiry to Kassi as he continues with
studied casualness. "They've been being so good, you see, helping Mum and
staying out of trouble...except for that cookie incident with the
fire-lizards, and they've assured me that doesn't count. So I figured I'd
let them run around outside for a while, as long as no mud gets thrown.
Unless...oh, unless someone else has a better idea." Cue two incredibly
pleading, hopeful looks from the girls' big brown eyes, and laughter in
Stavren's.

"At least snow's easier t'clean than the mud it leaves when it melts: so
say I, who knows this all too well." Kassima's eye-roll is doubtless
directed to her absent children. "Hmmm. Hmmm-mmm-mmm. So good as that;
you're certain? Helping their mother and everything?" She studies the two
sets of pleading eyes, making a show of tapping her foot and chewing her
lip in thought. "I might have an idea... mayhaps... but I want t'hear about
this cookie incident first."

Naturally, both girls start talking at once. It's all very simple, really.
There was a firelizard, or possibly two, and he was veryvery friendly, and
it seemed perfectly logical (at the time) that he'd Impress himself to them
if they fed him--like in the Ballads. So a large platter of Pierron's
special citron-iced cookies were appropriated for the purpose. Except the
fire-lizard only ate a few, and so they /had/ to eat the rest (so's not to
waste), and then the 'lizard brought all his friends and they got into some
leftovers, and boy, Pierron was /really/ yelling. And they still have no
idea how that glob of frosting landed on the Aerie Wingleader's roast
herdbeast. Stavren sits quietly as the girls 'explain', nodding or shaking
his head in certain parts, and occasionally mouthing helpful clarifications
like "the /whole/ platter" and "they /did/ help clean up". When the tale is
complete, and the girls pause to breathe, he slips off his rock and joins
them. "And that's more or less exactly how it happened. Myabe you had to be
there."

M'tri walks out of the records cavern.

Daikoth backwings for a landing.

Kassima folds her arms and leans back against her dragon, listening most
intently and, at some moments, gravely. There's a nod of understanding
here, a rather skeptical look there. "I suppose," she says at length, only
after a long and mock-pensive pause, "that one could at least argue you
didn't *intend* trouble in that incident. One must always take intent into
account." More mulling, because she's a wicked woman. "I *sup-pose*," she
drawls out, "that they've been good enough for a trip to Ista,
Stavren--if'n you're absolutely sure they deserve it?" Wicked, but not
cruel: despite her attempts to look stern, there's a slow grin creeping
across her face.

Daikoth is on the prowl for greens, it seems. He glides to a landing on the
farther end of the bowl, as far from the living cavern entrance as he
possibly can, it seems, and rushes M'tri off with wiggles and wing-rustles.
The bluerider, straightening his jacket as he lands, glares at his lifemate
half-heartedly, then shakes his head and eyes the distance to the caverns
with dismay. While Daikoth, ladies man that he is, croons a greeting and
seeks the attention of a pair of lounging greens not far from his landing
site. Grunting, M'tri sticks his hands in his pockets and starts the long
trek towards the indoors, veering off only because he notices Lysseth.
Which means Kassi is there somewhere. Aha, there she is. With a grin at
her, and a look that says he at least *recognizes* Stavren and his sisters,
the bluerider makes his detour with a wave towards them.

Stavren doesn't even try not to grin back. "I'm almost completely sure,
Kassi." He tightens his grip on Aldria, who looks ready to start rappelling
up Lysseth's foreleg right then and there. "You two. If Kassi takes us to
Ista to look at the eggs, do you /promise/ to do exactly what she says--and
what I say--no matter what? Because we'll be visiting somewhere very far
away, and we have to be good guests." Much nodding, and a lot of promising
along the lines of "By the shell of the gold dragon I'm gonna have someday
when I'm grown up!" That seems to be enough for Stav, and he inclines his
head to Kassi. "We're yours to direct. I've ridden R'maas's Ciriath, so I
think I can manage, but they may need some help. Evening, M'tri!" The girls
wave too, and Cashie pipes up, "Is Daikoth coming too? Are there statues at
Ista he can look at?"

Lysseth would not seem bothered to not be the green apple of Daikoth's eye
today; the blue is given a rumbled greeting, but it's more along the lines
of 'polite' than 'enticing.' Kassi lifts her hand in a return wave to
M'tri, calling, "Was your trouble-sense tingling? Or gambling-sense? Don't
take that injunction lightly, kits." This, she says to the girls. "If'n
you're well-behaved and respectful, you'll have a chance t'make your
parents and mayhaps your whole Hold proud of you, because you're going
t'have the very important responsibility of *representing* your Hold while
you're at Ista. 'Tis a big job, and--" She takes a moment to suppress the
urge to grin outright. "Good practice for riding gold someday. 'Twill climb
up first, Stavren, then I can offer you and the lasses a hand up and with
the straps." She turns enough to reach for those riding straps indeed, but
she pauses in climbing up to listen with interest for M'tri's answer.

"Oh, you said the word!" M'tri wails theatrically to Stavren. Whatever word
that is, it doesn't seem to have much effects on a blue dragon across the
bowl. He's too busy being seductive and romantic and...him. M'tri glances
over his shoulder, commenting, "Hungry sense, was what it was," he remarks
absently, shrugging. "My trouble sense is so constant I can't even *use* it
anymore." He silences to metabolize the conversation. "Going to Ista to see
the eggs?" he asks, rhetorically. Cashie earns herself a fond grin, the
kind of grin M'tri spares just for littles, and he says, "I don't know if
there's statues. Last time we went, we won one, but we didn't look." He
shrugs, saying, "Course, I'll go. There're a couple candidates there I like
to make blush anyhow. And Istan food..." His trip to Telgar's living
caverns is forgotten, it seems, as he catches Daikoth's attention. Daikoth
seems fine with leaving these greens in favor of others. He is *the* pro at
this.

Stavren nods. "Thanks, Kassi. Oh yeah, M'tri, I remember the statue you won
at Ista. I still don't think it was worth what you had to go through." He
leads his sisters (who are trying to behave as they think representatives
should, ramrod-straight posture and small squeaky happy noises) towards
Lysseth, offering advice while dodging puddles. "Just sit still, and Kassi
and I will strap you in. We won't let you fall. And don't be afraid of
/between/, it's only for a few breaths. And remember, Lysseth isn't a
runner, don't try and kick her to make her go faster." The girls nod
repeatedly, pausing only to wave as Daikoth comes lumbering over.

"That's the plan. I suggested it might be a fitting reward for some sisters
who were very, very good for awhile." Kassima is clearly amused by the
entire business. "I scarcely would have thought *you* fond of Istan food,
Trii, given givens. Speaking of which, how's your prize making out? Still
intact?" There's a slightly searching look to go along with this, but it
doesn't last too long before she's scrambling up onto her lifemate's neck
and calling, "More the merrier, then! Definitely don't kick Lysseth, or
throw up on Lysseth. She doesn't like it. But there's naught t'fear when it
comes t'falling off, because we've never lost a passenger. Nay once. Nay
ever."

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.

Stavren accepts Kassima's proffered hand and swings up onto Lysseth's lower
neckridges, settling himself behind Kassima carefully. Kassi grins and
reassures the dubious Lysseth that Stavren is safe, and the green faces
forward as her rider gets ready to fly.

<*> M'tri grins and shakes his head. "Still intact," he says in response,
before grabbing the available straps and hauling himself up on Daikoth as
well, watching as Lysseth's passengers get settled.

<*> M'tri swings onto Daikoth's neck with the help of a proffered foreleg.

Stavren is, perhaps with good reason, a nervous flyer. Much buckling and
tightening and making /sure/ ensues. "They say they're fine," he finally
decides, rather dubious. "I'll trust you to know for sure. We're in your
hands. And Lysseth's wings." His mild nerves are not helped by Aldria's
cheery statement--"And if we fall, Daikoth will swoop down midair and catch
us!"

Kassima straps herself in quickly and efficiently, then twists about as
much as the laws of physics will allow to assist her passengers in sorting
out and fastening their own various sets. "Give a yell when you're all
ready, and we'll go," she promises. "Just hold on tight, all right? Lyss's
launches are a little bit abrupt. All set? All right, then--" Even as she
faces forward again, she laughs and agrees, "He will!" Helpful. So helpful.

<*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with
a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air.

You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the bowl floor
to carry you aloft.

<*> Daikoth rises up from the bowl.

The rim of the bowl falls away from you and you soar into the open skies.

<*> 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...
Black...
Blacker...
Blackest!

You suddenly emerge...

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

The wind is brisk and feels good under your wings, supporting your wings
firmly as you glide lower into the bowl.

The huge looming entrances of the living caverns are easily visible from
here, and you glide downward to land, scattering firelizards as you do so.

<*> Daikoth approaches from above, the wind from his wings stirring the air
into a great rush as he lands.

<*> M'tri unbuckles the straps and slide to the bent foreleg Daikoth's
offered. His head cocked, eyes whirling protectively, the blue watches the
nimble climb to the ground.

<*> Lysseth is somewhat gentler about her descent than she was her ascent,
landing after a long, smooth spiralling that was leisurely enough to allow
her passengers a chance to take in the sights of the Weyr below. Now she
folds her wings in neatly and lowers her neck to allow them to dismount,
earning a fond rub of the neckridge in front of her rider from said rider.
"We're here!" the greenrider announces, cheerfully and needlessly.
"Everyone still alive?"

Stavren says as he starts unsecuring his windblown sisters, "They're just
fine. I think Cashie's a little wide-eyed, she'll probably appreciate solid
ground." Ah, and here's that wonderful ground. Stav's unstrapping and
dismount is a little clumsy, but he hits the Bowl without injury, and
swings his sisters gently down. Cashie does indeed seem a little shaky, but
Aldria's first response is "Let's do that /again/!"

Stavren unbuckles himself from Lysseth's straps and climbs back down to the
ground, looking a little disoriented from the flight.

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.

Spiralling is for visitors; M'tri and Daikoth divebomb for the ground, and
the blue only spreads his wings in time to save them from inevitable death.
With the swiftness of practice, the bluerider swings from his perch to the
ground, supervising the descent of Stavren and his sisters from below while
Kassima does it from above, until he's satisfied everyone's down, upright,
and not going to upchuck on his shoes. That done, he says, with a grin,
"We'll do it on the way home. But you wanted to see the eggs, didn't you?"

Kassima is laughing as she slides down. "We'll do it again soon enough,"
she promises, "when we take you back t'Telgar--but didn't you want t'look
at eggs first? I guess if'n you didn't *want* t'see eggs, we could just
turn about and go home, but I'd assumed...." Even the girls might be able
to tell that she's teasing them, since she's not trying to be particularly
subtle about it. "A lot of people find a dragonride a little scary or
disorienting, lass," she says to Cashie, with sympathy. "It might be better
next time. Anyway, we'll be here long enough t'get the chill of *between*
from your bones. Daikoth, you're incorrigible."

Stavren gently herds the girls ahead of him as they start chanting "Eggs!
Eggs! Eggs!", reminding them once "We're representing Telgar, remember. And
you want to be quiet in the Hatching Grounds, and not disturb the queen. Or
she might--" His brain fails him. "--ask us to leave." Cashie smiles
gratefully at the greenrider, and both girls start looking around for a
sign that says "This Way to the Eggs" or something helpful like that. Stav
is content to ask M'tri "Does he always do that? Plummet toward the ground?
I've seen wherries with more aerodynamics than that, no offense to Daikoth..."

Yes. Yes, I am. That's what *that* particular rumble means. It also means,
you are all on your own, I've got greens to woo. He's off! M'tri stares at
where Daikoth was moments before, sighs, and agrees, for Kassi,
"Incorrigible." A smile is offered for Cashie, and he sheds his jacket,
draping it over his arm as he answers Stavren, "No. If he wanted to be
aerodynamic, he would. But what he wanted, was for me to get off so he
could go pose. He's in *a mood*." And if Stavren doesn't know where he's
going, M'tri will take the lead towards the Hatching Grounds.

M'tri walks into the Hatching Grounds through one of the large entrances.

"And Ulfianth might be most annoyed if'n you don't respect his dignity and
magnificence," Kassima chimes in, as she heads towards the Hatching Grounds
herself--pausing long enough to tip her head towards the right entrance, to
make it clear she knows where she's going. "You're lucky that he can't
impregnate aught," she asides to M'tri. "Or you'd have tons and tons of
greens turning up on your ledge with eggs for you t'take off their hands. I
hope for your sake there isn't a green due t'rise tonight."

You walk in through one of the large entrances to the hatching grounds,
your eyes adjusting slowly to the dimness within.

Stavren walks in from the bowl.

You climb some stairs into the galleries.

Stavren climbs up some stairs into the seats.

M'tri climbs up some stairs into the seats.

Stavren whistles softly, eyes very wide and honestly impressed at the
spread of black sand and bright eggs. He sits down on one of the tiers and
just--absorbs. Both girls run down to the lowest tier and lean out as far
as they can, craning their necks and whispering about the eggs. Aldria
starts counting carefully, narrow brows furrowed in concentration, while
Cashie examines each egg as best she can before pointing at the Rainbow
Cavern egg and declaring "/That/ one." Stav chuckles softly, and warns the
greenrider, "They're going to love you forever for this. You'll never get
rid of them."

M'tri groans appropriately at the thought of a rising green. "If one did,
and he lost, I think I might have a time of shutting him up. May even have
a time getting him to take me home with him." Trii shakes his head
lugubriously, trekking up the steps and finding a seat, tucking one leg
beneath him when he does, and peering not at the eggs but at the excited
lasses. He stretches out like a feline, hooking his elbows on the back of
the seat and grinning. "Aye, Kassi. As if you didn't have enough of your own."

Kassima elects to pick a tier somewhere inbetween for seating, near the
whole loose group. "They'll have t'get in line," she answers Stavren with a
grin. "The lads might be a wee bit upset if'n I kidnapped 'em away for
m'very own, particularly once they realized what heinous creatures *little
sisters* can be. M'pleasure, though. I love seeing people see eggs for the
first time." Evidently so, since she's watching the girls--and
Stavren--more than the eggs themselves. "Worse Weyrs t'be stranded in," she
philosophizes. "Except that everyone would probably tease you about eating
bugs. Forever and ever and ever. What, Trii? Eight? Enough? You jest, surely."

Stavren ducks his head, embarrassed to be (more or less) as agog as his
sisters. "Well, we--or me, anyway--never thought we'd get the chance to see
dragon eggs. It's a big thing for us. Are they always so colorful? Wherry
eggs are whitish." He winces visibly at the mere mention of eight kids,
even though they're not related to him in any way. "Ask Kaswyn. I think he
was peripherally involved in the great cookie plot. He'll never want a
sister." Down below, a heated (but muffled, in deference to the sleeping
eggs) debate is going on as to whether one egg holds a green or a blue.
They're almost to the name-calling stage.

M'tri grins, offering, "When Liabeth clutched, her eggs were *bright*. So
bright, in fact, that during the touching, I nearly went blind." Obviously
teasing, he nods to the girls, saying, "Hope they don't throw one another
over the rail. My brothers'd do it to me, I know." He hooks his free leg on
the back of the seat in front of him, yawning widely as he says, "If
they're going to fight over whats in which, they should bet. Shards, I'd
give them the marks, if I thought it'd take some out of Kassi."

"I never saw a clutch until the one Lysseth Hatched from. 'Tisn't such a
given when you don't live in a Weyr," Kassi agrees, smiling her
understanding. "Generally they are. Depends on the egg.
Josilina--Lhiannonth's, at High Reaches--was terribly distressed that some
of Lhiannonth and Volath's eggs were more on the grey side. Several of
Liabeth's clutch were fairly bright... remember that pink one, Trii? Lyss's
egg was mostly a vivid red. I don't suppose any of you have marks or
cookies or aught that you'd like t'wager on which egg holds what?" Oh, so
innocently asked. "Kazy has four sisters, but all older by a ways. Kiss
still manages t'make his life miserable half the time. At least I'm
guessing the lasses didn't leave Kazy t'shoulder *all* the blame, else I'd
have heard about it long since." Great minds think alike, it seems, and she
casts M'tri a laughing look and dares him, "Offer them the marks! You never
know! Mayhaps they have the eye. You'd be able t'hold it over me forever."

"Please don't start teaching my sisters to gamble until they reach
adolescence?" Stavren asks without much hope. "Brijana's already coerced
some cardsharping tricks out of that Bitran boy helping the Harper, I don't
need more like her. Cookies...that might be a safe bet." He shakes his head
at the mere thought of a pink egg. "I can't imagine. Did Daikoth hatch out
of that one, or did his have gold shiny patterns all over it?" The mention
of Lysseth's red egg elicits a grin--that makes perfect sense, though he'll
never say it to Kassi's face. The girls come clambering back up, pointing
at the eggs and waving their hands and generally suggesting that perhaps
they should be allowed an even closer look, given their desperate need to
ascertain just /what/ color is in one certain egg.

M'tri shakes his head, grimacing visibly. "Oh, shards, no. Daikoth came out
of a more...lewd? egg. Or, it was when you looked at it. As much as I'm
sure Daikoth wishes it were gold and shiny." He grins, saying, "We're
teaching them basic survival skills." In the next breath, though, he's
quick to say, "Girls, I'll tell you...you're not going to know anymore if
you stand an inch from them. Trust me." Or don't, he doesn't seem like
it'll hurt him all that much.

Kassima's chuckle is low and wicked. But she must have some scrap of a
soul, since she agrees--with a little too much reluctance to be real--"I
*guess* I could refrain... mayhaps... wait, though, Bitran boy aiding the
Harper? Faramen, or--?" She grins at the girls as they approach, but her
headshake is vigorous. "Nay going out on the Sands for you, lasses, I'm
sorry. Only Candidates are allowed--none of us would be allowed, either.
'Twould make the mother angry. And d'you really want t'make something *her*
size angry?" She gestures towards Essieth by way of demonstration. "There's
something fitting-seeming tonight about him in a lewd egg, Trii."

The girls are respectfully silent as they study Essieth's golden bulk. As
is Stavren. "Like Kassi and M'tri say--only if you're officially Searched."
Beat. "By an actual dragon, not a fair of fire-lizards."

[Editor's Note:  Stavren had to run here, and let it be known 
that he and the girls would have gawked awhile longer, then left
after thanking both riders profusely. :) ]

M'tri laughs a bit, shaking his head and standing up, stretching again,
this time until his back cracks quietly. "Ah, you know what? I'm still
hungry. So, you guys bet cookies or whatever...and I'm going to find food
and Candidates to terrorize subtley." That said, M'tri gives a grin that's
utterly rakish, and skirts around Kassi, Stavren, and the girls to head
down the stairs. Under the pretense of hunger. Ayuh.

M'tri walks down the stairs towards the entrance.