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

Was There a Man Dismayed?


Date:  January 21, 2005
Places:  Master Beasthall's Pond; Bitra's Lower Valley and Trader
Pass; the Sebring Wagon Caravan and Jock Baylyff's Bar
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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

Kassi's Note:  Half a league, half a league, half a league onward!  
And all due apologes to Alfred Lord Tennyson for the misappropriation
of 'Charge of the Light Brigade' quotes by M'rek and myself. :)  The
log begins without Kassi, as I thought it might make for better 
reading to include M'rek's trip to MBH to pick up Cailin.  The Herder
went and got herself stuck at Boll during the monsoon and didn't tell
her protector; he's none too pleased about this, and has invited 
Kassima along on the trip they take to discuss the matter.

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


The Log:

MBH-Pond> Ulfianth wings down from the sky above.

MBH-Pond> M'rek carefully slides down the side of ice in summer bronze
Ulfianth, using the dragon's forelimb as a helpful step on the way.

MBH-Pond> Cailin, in truth, isn't so much by the pond, but sitting on a
blanket just outside her cottage; back set against the outer wall, arms
loosely about her knees. Hard to tell at a glance if her eyes are open or
closed as she rests there.

MBH-Pond> M'rek looks as thunderous as Ulfianth's dark rumble sounds as he
slides down and stomps over to where Cailin is resting. He scowls. "Where's
Cain? Is he going to be all right for several hours?" Not even a hello from
the bald one who predates all the other bald ones.

MBH-Pond> Cailin looks up, started. Probably more by the tone than M'rek's
presence for she doesn't seem to have been asleep for all that she looks
tired, "He's asleep. With his nanny watching." Cai's tone and expression
both portraying wary confusion, "Has something happened, M'rek?"

MBH-Pond> M'rek makes a line with his mouth and says, "Aye. Can you come
with me for awhile then?" And he frowns as he offers her a hand.

MBH-Pond> Cailin glances back at her cottage, then his expression before
she slowly nods, offering up her hand to take his, "Aye. I suppose. Shall I
get my jacket then?"

MBH-Pond> M'rek nods his head, staying unusually quiet. "Aye. Get your
jacket."

MBH-Pond> Cailin gives him another look then, before she gathers up her
blanket and steps inside. There's the sound of voices, and then a few
minutes later, she's back. Siding on her jacket as she slips through the
door, "You going to tell me? Or?"

MBH-Pond> M'rek shakes his head and the jerks a nod towards the crouching
Ulfianth. "We can discuss it when we get where we're going." He sighs then,
a heavy sigh and he moves to clamber up the bronze and then to offer The
Beastcrafter a hand up.

MBH-Pond> M'rek uses a combination of handholds on the straps and
Ulfianth's bent forelimb to climb up on the ice in summer bronze's back.

MBH-Pond> Cailin bites her lip, not saying anything more and then moves to
accept the hand, and mount.

MBH-Pond> Cailin uses a combination of handholds on the straps and
Ulfianth's bent forelimb to climb up on the ice in summer bronze's back.

MBH-Pond> On Ulfianth, M'rek quietly makes sure she's all buckled in and
then he gives Ulfianth a pat.

MBH-Pond> Ulfianth launches himself up into the sky.

Ulfianth strolls in from the Central Bitran Valley to the northwest.

M'rek carefully slides down the side of ice in summer bronze Ulfianth,
using the dragon's forelimb as a helpful step on the way.

Cailin carefully slides down the side of ice in summer bronze Ulfianth,
using the dragon's forelimb as a helpful step on the way.

Cailin's slow to slide down, especially once she sees where they've
arrived. Now it's more questions in her eyes than confusion. Yet she only
bundles her jacket more about herself and waits quietly once her feet are
on the ground.

Lysseth greets the descending bronze and his passengers with a mellow
warble; her rider, who was leaning against her shoulder, straightens up to
lift a hand and hail them. "Duties and all that formal bother if'n you need
it," she calls.

M'rek looks grim indeed as he slides down Ulfianth's side and then steps
clear so that Cailin can follow. He nods to Kassima in an upwards jerk of
his head and then silently points towards the trader pass, evidently
expecting them both to follow.

M'rek goes southwest into Trader Pass.

Kassima is evidently inclined to be obediant, or at least obliging--which
may not be the world's best sign. A nod back to the bronzerider and she's
following suit. Into the Trader Pass of death rode the six hundred?

You walk southwest into Trader Pass.

Cailin comes in from the Lower Bitran Valley.

Cailin follows, with only a quiet greeting of, "Heya Kassi," to the
greenrider. Then she falls into silence once again. Could be a funeral
procession for as lively as she is about tagging along.

Traders to the right of them. Traders to the left of them. Traders in front
of them. And yet M'rek strolls onward in a stride that's a step more
tightly wound than his usual easy going pace. He points and says in a
silence rasped voice, "In there."

"Heyla, Cailin," Kassi returns, not particularly grim, but quiet in respect
for M'rek's grimness. Or perhaps out of wariness for whatever he has
planned; one's as plausible as the other. Still in obliging mode, she
starts to head to where he directs--but pauses to give him a long and
rather concerned look. "M'rek, are you--" She breaks off. Maybe it's better
not to ask questions. Maybe it's better to just go half a league onward.

You walk towards the Sebring Wagon Cavern.

M'rek walks away from the Trader Pass.

Cailin walks away from the Trader Pass.

Cailin keeps giving M'rek sidelong looks as she goes where directed. Just
once she looks to Kassi and gives a slight shrug of her shoulders as if she
has no guidance for the other.

Has someone blundered? M'rek stops in front of a rustic wagon and then
reaches up and hold the canvas back for the women, "This way. This should
do." And maybe theirs is not to make reply, theirs not to reason why,
theirs is but to drink and hopefully not die of anything picked up sitting
in there.

Forward, this small brigade! Was there a man dismayed? Or just at least one
confused woman? Hard to tell whether Kassi knows what's up or is just being
fairly trusting of M'rek, but after a matching shrug to Cailin, boldly she
strides and well, into the jaws of... well, strong alcohol, if she's lucky.

You walk towards the Jock Baylyff's Bar.


Jock Baylyff's Bar
	Old wagon parts have been recycled to construct a fairly rustic bar 
and celebration area nestled into the western corner of the cave. Visitors 
are warmly greeted by Jock Baylyff, the scruffy-looking bartender, who is 
more than happy to tell them what 'drinks' are available. Dotted by soft glow 
light, this area is inviting and sounds of talk and laughter can be heard
coming from it most hours of the day or night. A wooden rack hangs down
from beams over the bar storing glasses and mugs. Two kettles sit on a
small cook stove with two boiler plates near the bar's open end and the bar
itself is lined with rough stools. Mismatched wooden tables and chairs are
scattered around - these can be left separate for dragonpoker games or
intimate conversations or pushed together for larger celebrations.
	A clean, polished floor has been erected in the northwest side of the 
bar for dances and a raised dais runs the length of the back wall for 
visiting Harpers, storytellers and other performers so welcome during the 
harsh Bitran winter months. During times of bleak weather or Threadfall, 
music often spreads over the chatter of the bar, filling the air with 
soothing ballads, raucous shanties, romantic dance tunes or spirited reels. 
Shelving behind the dais houses some well-used instruments: a fiddle, some
reedflutes, a hand-held drum and like. Additional seating in the form of
old wagon wheels and other parts made into benches has been arranged around
the performing area. When filled with crowds for larger events, firelizards
can be seen crowding the beams above and the main doors are left open to
allow a cool breeze to refresh its patrons.
	Nearly lost amidst the shadows, tucked away in a corner beside the bar, 
a narrow staircase tunnels upwards, perhaps to some portion of Bitra Hold
above the Trader Caverns?
	(OOC Note: Type 'drinks' if you would like Jock to tell you what drinks
are currently available for your pleasure.)

** +lhelp is available here! **
Contents:
Rolan(#13224PIJMOXce)
Obvious exits:
Wagon Cavern  


M'rek walks away from the Sebring Wagon Cavern.

Cailin walks away from the Sebring Wagon Cavern.

M'rek takes a look around as if he's never actually been here himself, but
he must have heard about the place because there they all are. And O, the
wild charge they'll make. All the world wonders. "Evening. My duties." He
looks around for an open table and then points it out, "All right then. I'm
buying and Cailin, you can tell us all about your monsoon adventure at
Boll." Not as quiet as before, but still subdued, there's at least a bit of
a grin from the bronzerider as he pulls out first one chair and then another.

Rolan is currently on a barstool, chatting absently with Jock and another
trader beside him. He twists and looks as the new crowd arrives. "Good
evening, Sebring's duties in return. This is an unexpected pleasure!"

Cailin barely gives the place more than a glance, for she has seen the
place a time before. And if there is any surprise betrayed in her features,
its probably for why here, than for the bar. "You want to hear about that?
It couldn't have waited until I... No, never mind. I can see it couldn't.
Alright." She slides into one of the pulled out seats, and only then offers
the Sebring man a smile, "G'eve, Rolan. Surprise."

Like the bronzerider, Kassima scans the whole room as if it's new to her;
her eyes note this piece of decor and that with interest. "How many other
bars are there that I don't know about?" she has to wonder. "Duties
likewise to the Sebrings and their Traders, a'course. G'deve, g'deve." She
too settles in a seat, adding, "Far be it from me t'protest drinks and a
story. I'm making out tonight."

"With who? Me?" M'rek quips to Kassima's last statement. And then he waves
over to Rolan, "Hello! Join us if you like, it's Cailin's coming out party.
Or. I should say going out party." He slides his eyes over to the
Beastcrafter, "You know. I'd have at least tried to come and get you if
you'd sent word." Which very well may be why she didn't.

Rolan picks up his mug and joins the others at the table, "What brings you
all to our little hidey hole this evening?" He smiles and nods at Cailin.

Cailin leaves the 'whys' for M'rek to explain, saying to Rolan first, "Been
a while. Hope business is good?" For Kassi, "I wouldn't hazard a guess."
M'rek is considered with a long look, then she says, "Because the first
couple nights you might have gotten yourself and Ulf killed trying t'fly in
that weather t'get t'me. I already had one protector, no, -friend- missing
in that mess. And I wasn't going t'risk you to a force of nature you
couldn't possibly fight." Well, that's part of the time accounted for anyway.

[Editor's Note:  Rolan had to disconnect here.]

"I'm torn between retorting, 'You wish' and 'Mayhaps, if'n you're lucky and
buy *enough* drinks,'" Kassi answers, waggling brows briefly. "Methinks
we're celebrating Cailin's nay being dead. Or Cai's future-being-dead, by
the sound of it." After a moment, she adds, "She's probably right about the
weather, M'rek. I'd nay have left Kisai there if'n I *could* have gotten
her out."

M'rek sighs and drops into a seat heavily before he nods and then waves his
hand for the barmaid. Barman? Sure to be someone in tight pants, no doubt.
"A round, and keep 'em coming. Whatever they want, I'll take ale." Then he
sighs once more and nods, "Aye. I reckon it's true. Still. Might have been
worth the try." And of course, he'd have loved to try, this boneheaded
Bronzerider. "Mayhaps I wish and I'll buy as many drinks as you like." He
says through a grumble and then he sighs once more and seems to shake it
off a bit. "Was an enourmous storm then? Many casualties?"

Cailin leans in and tells Jock what she would like. After consulting with
the mixing instructions at the bar, the bartender pulls a delicate goblet
down from the glass rack and mixes what looks to be a Fair Queen. He hands
it to Cailin with a smile. "Enjoy!"

Named for its deep bronze color, this refreshing drink is usually served in
a fairly large mug and is sure to sate the greatest of thirsts and leave a
fine tingle in its wake. The Bronzer's the kind of drink whose effects are
masked by its initial sweetness, but it /has/ been known to lay a few
actual Bronzeriders low from time to time.
Jock nods to your request and pulls a large mug down from the glass rack,
opens up the bin under the bar and fills the mug with 'Reaches ice chips,
then adds a liberal dose of vanilla extract over them - no doubt the ice
chips will only add to the mellow flavor of the drink as they melt. The
Bronzer's kick comes from the liqueur mixture of klah bark extracts and
almond-flavored meadowsweet oil that completes the drink. A sprinkle of
grated nutmegoid bark spice atop the ice and he hands the mug to you with a
shrug, "It's your liver, pal!"

M'rek leans in and tells Jock what he would like. The bartender gives a
quick nod, pulls a tall glass down from the rack above the bar and mixes
some delicate blush rose wine with some ruby red juice to create a sweet
and fruity sangria. He hands the glass to M'rek with a grin, "Sweet and
refreshing!" It's not quite clear if he's referring to the drink or not.

"And if we'd all three gotten killed? That'd leave Kristine and Vorlin
fighting over Cain with no mediator but Canalon. You know she wouldn't hand
him over easily." Cailin runs her fingers through her hair, then orders a
drink before continuing, "Not as many deaths as their might have been. I
spent most the first night helping save the runners when the stables came
down on them. Or at least, saving those that could be. But the time we
finished up, it was apparent Learan was missing. The next morning, I found
out Gerome and Vahara were there. So I figured it was safe enough until the
storm abated. It was wretched M'rek. Far too wretched to risk fragile wings."

Kassima drops out of teasing mode to slant M'rek another of those somewhat
concerned looks. "T'your health, then, and with thanks," she finally says,
once her liver-poisoning drink has been delivered; she lifts it in salute
to him, or more likely a gesture of gratitude for paying. "Tell that to
Lord Ulfianth, then, why don't you, who'd have been the one sporting broken
wings. I can't imagine he'd be thanking you for those. Even without the
whole 'potential death' element--was Kiss right, Cailin? She said Lord
Vorlin was there too."

M'rek shrugs a little bit, "I doubt Vorlin would fight. Not his style."
Then he nods, "Aye. I imagine you were rather safe indeed with those two
there." He looks concerned then, "Learan? Was he all right? Or?" And he
raises his glass to Kassima and nods, "Aye. To yours as well. To all of
ours." Then, "Aye. Perhaps he'd have been against it, he's like that at
times. Vorlin as well?" He raises his eyebrows, "And?"

At Kassima's question, Cailin looks to her drink, then tries it. Putting
off the answering as long as she might with out avoiding all together.
"They found him the first morning after the storm abated enough for
searching. He's a little scratched and bruised, but was more distressed
about his appearance than anything." So in other words, couldn't have been
too badly off. "He left the following morning." And there she's taking
another careful sip of her drink. Avoiding saying more? For M'rek she
allows, "True. Just still..." She shrugs, letting it go. "They found Learan
pinned under a tree. Unconscious, broken leg... The evening of the day they
found Vorlin. They wouldn't let me see him until the next day. But he's
going to be alright. Liah's fussing over him. And there's nothing wrong
with my legs, so I can do his running."

Kassima attempts to clink her glass against M'rek's before taking a healthy
swig of the contents. "Mmph!" It's the sort of muffled exclamation that
comes from drinking something that tastes fairly good, but implodes your
tonsils on the way down. "Trust something named after a bronzerider t'punch
you. What was it you said once, M'rek? That riders fight, and Lord Holders
duel?" There's a slight, brief half-grin for the appearance quip. "Good
thing. His going missing sounds like a potential mess." Gee, you figure?
"Likewise the Craftmaster. He's well now? Mayhaps I should send him a
bottle of something fine. As a get-well gift, and token of esteem."

M'rek clinks his glass and slumps a little in his chair, shoulders tense
and yet he's drinking and there's a bit of a smile on his features. He nods
to the first description, "He's a survivor, That One. Would take more than
a storm, I'd wager. He would be more worried about his appearance." He
scoffs and yet, there's a fondness to it with defies the odds or even
sanity of the world. The bronzerider watches some men get jiggy on the
dance floor as he listens about Learan, "Aye? I'm sure Liah's taking good
care of him." He picks all the froofy frou out of his drink and then takes
a sip. "Not bad." There's a chuckle for Kassi then, "Aye. Riders brawl and
Lord Holders duel."

"Aye." Cailin says quietly, "Good thing he turned up alright." Something
about the last word sounding more like health than agreement from her. The
herder smiles a little, "Learan sent me home first today, but I didn't
precede him by too much. I'm guessing he wanted me to assure his mother
before she saw him. Probably..." She adds, "I'd bet he'd appreciate the
thought Kassi. He's mostly fussing about being fussed over at this point.
But he still tires easy." She smiles then to M'rek, "Aye. But he behaved
well enough there, you know. For Him. I think Gerome was a little
disappointed that He was more distracted than angry."

"Perhaps," Kassima suggests to the bronzerider, though more with a touch of
droll humor than in seriousness, "you should go out and dance? Might loosen
you up some, and methinks the bartender might appreciate it. If'n you ask
me, he's been checking you out. Angry at who?" she asks Cailin, blinking
once. "Boll? Lady Dyane? The sky? Well, but. If'n the man has enough good
taste in liquor t'keep that scotch, he might nay mind concern that came in
a bottle. Might see if'n I can cozen a bottle from Hugh at the Hulk." She
takes a more leisurely sip of her drink this time.

M'rek seems puzzled in some nuance of Cailin's first response and he looks
at her for a bit before he sips at his drink and then nods, "Aye. Probably
a good idea. I should send him something as well." Pause, "That he'd like."
Least they think he means a black eye. "Did he? Well. You know how it is.
He does have good manners." Unlike some people he seems to suggest. "Was
he? Anger at a storm isn't likely to win anything." Still, he grins more
and glances to the dance floor, "Shards. I've not got enough drink in me
for that yet. Well. I do have nice legs." For the bartender, then, "I don't
dance too badly."

"Me." Cailin gives as the simple answer, then after a long look at M'rek,
she sighs, "Gerome was snippish with me. Not having Cain there with me and
all. Not like I -planned- to get stuck there. I wasn't even suppose to
spend the night. He didn't even give me a chance to say anything and had
Lady Dyane asking if she needed to do something about his behavior towards
me." She shrugs, "He was just standing there looking like the feline that
got in the cream when Vorlin asked me where Cain was." She gives a little
grin then, more to M'rek than anything, "Well, he wasn't too thrilled about
the mud. But no. I don't think he was angry. Just -- Uncomfortable at
first." And least there be a misunderstanding, she tacks on with a hint of
amusement, "Because of the mud."

Kassima drums her fingertips against the side of her mug. "What sort of
thing d'you think he'd like, Cailin? Aside from liquor? Nay that you can
ever have enough liquor. And Gerome and Vahara, they were at Boll too? 'Tis
somehow difficult t'picture the green lady as a refugee. I didn't see much
of anyone when I went t'gather m'daughter. Truth be told, I snagged her and
took her home as soon as we'd done our bit in aiding the searching." A
black brow quirks up at this report of Gerome's smugness; she splits a
curious glance between them, in case any explanation of that might be
forthcoming. This is not to say she forgets the subject of M'rek dancing,
unfortunately for M'rek. "Then we'll just have t'keep 'em coming 'til you
do. So you can prove you have nice legs and make that man's night."

M'rek chuckles lightly and looks into his drink then he says, "Gerome's had
a lot on his mind of late. He's not getting as far as he'd like in taking
apart that group that's looking for some figurine that her Vaharaness
picked up from a Cromian under Holder. A green runner I understand." Then,
"Has him on a short leash." Evidently, there are Bitran Guardians, and then
there are Bitran Guardians. "Where was Cain? I could have helped look after
him. Some." And he looks chaffed, for his time has been very cut into of
late for one reason or another. "Aye. Mud. I can well imagine." And he can
for he knocks back the rest of his drink, signals for another and grins,
"Aye. Maybe we should make someone's night at that."

"I think that liquor from either of you would amuse him, really. But I'll
have t'give what he likes a little thought. I mean, aside from ferrets and
the like." Cai's gaze gets a little distant as she sips from her glass
again, thinking on that matter a moment before moving on to the next. "They
left the first evening they could. I didn't really see her the whole time.
I think he had her locked away in a room the whole time. And Vorlin stayed
the night," She pauses just a fraction, hardly noticeable and completes the
thought, "...as I said, then left the next day. So a fair few were gone by
the time you picked up Kisai." She arches a brow, "They're after her for a
figurine? Is that all?" But she's distracted enough by the next to smile,
"Kristine had him. Sounds like she wasn't letting him out of her sight a
moment more than she had too. I'm glad you would have though." The last has
her arching a brow, then grinning more openly than before, for all that she
only shakes her head in amusement.

"Wait a moment, wait a moment, M'rek--you're saying that's Osmor's story?
That they're looking for a *figurine*? A runner carved from, what, jade or
something?" One can officially color Kassima bewildered. "I'm just dying
t'hear how that ties into Gressen. Always assuming he said. Oh, are we all
making someone's night now?" It's not a refusal; she grins back at him. "I
might be game. Aye, Cailin, I don't think 'twill get the Craftmaster a
ferret, unless you think he'd really, really like one." Her brow-twitch for
the fractional pause--or perhaps for what preceded it--might be as easily
missed as the pause itself. "Just as well. 'Twas more in the mood to be a
disgustingly typical worried mother and hug the stuffing out of her than be
social. Sounds like a safe haven for the lad, if'n half the tales of her
reputation and her gelding knives are true."

"What about a ferret with liquor?" M'rek suggests, almost seriously but for
a slight spark to his eyes. "Aye. He likely did have her locked up. He's
not letting her out of his sight with all those things going on." He sighs
and then rubs a hand over his head before accepting his next drink, this
one, once more must be de-froofed. "Aye. A green runner. Kristine? That's
okay then. I'm not much of a guardian anymore anyway." a deeper sigh and
slumped shoulders, "Mayhaps it's time I tried to find someone more suited
for it." The rider shrugs to Kassi, "I'm not sure how Gressen ties in. I
haven't gotten to talk to Osmor yet, and Gerome. He takes, uh, shortcuts
for information." Just like the inquisition would. "I'm glad Kisai was safe
as well, Kassi."

"Osmor? Gressen?" Cailin's turn at bewildered, though she goes on smoothly.
"One of those he can select himself if he wants another." She chuckles,
"You can be proud of her, Kassi. She was right there to help with the hard
stuff without protest, and hung in there until I was done." A glorified
version of the truth, maybe, but the sentiment is genuine. "Aye. Kris would
probably at least try to geld Himself, if she had a enough cause." Try
being a key word. She furrows her brows though, "I know you've been
distracted a lot, M'rek. It's not as if there has been much to fuss over in
the last turn or so with Cain and I anyway. Things have been quiet. you'd
give us to someone else then?" She falls quiet then, to listen on the rest
maybe.

Kassima offers next, only too brightly, "Or a drunk ferret? That could
really make him think of us, drunk ferrets. But we might get blamed when
they gnawed into the scotch cabinet... if'n ferrets gnaw... and that could
be a pity." She tips her head and mug back to drain it of the last of its
contents in three swallows. The next thing she orders isn't the same, since
it's considerably less nutmeggy, served in a glass, and has flowers
floating in it. She leaves the flowers in as she sips. Oh, the shame. "Who
can you imagine would be more suited? From the admittedly limited amount I
know, you may understand the Hold, its people, its Lord, and what they're
all capable of better than anyone else. That has t'be worth quite a bit. I
don't want t'know about those shortcuts, do I." Not really a question.
"Thankee. Me too, a'course. I worried up half a storm, but... naught t'be
done, so I distracted m'self with that party. Making all those mint ropes
helped. Somewhat. Was she?" A mother's fond, proud smile for her offspring
crosses her face. "I'm glad of it. Still wish I could've been there, but
she was in good hands with you. Osmor's the name of the man who hired the
kidnappers--only he might nay be the man at the top, 'tis so, M'rek?"

M'rek nods a bit and then again to Kassi's answer on Osmor, "I'm not sure
how much higher it goes. Haven't had a chance to talk to Osmor yet. Gressen
was a Lord Holder from back before the pass I hear." And he shrugs to that,
not knowing the whole story yet as Gerome tends to like one word answers to
his questions. "He's quick with a blade himself. I wouldn't take him on in
too close quarters." And yet he has, but that's another story. "Like it
would be like that anyway. He's too slick by far. Aye. I've been
distracted." And he sighs that sigh, "It's not as if I want to. It's just
that. I can't keep anyone safe." Oh, the depression in that statement. "You
might be best served by another, Cailin." A look into his drink and then,
"Do ferrets gnaw?" Then, "Does any of that help if I can't be there at the
crucial moment? And. Ulfianth's about to put his foot down over that queen
of his taking to the sands, I've got maybe a month at best." The rider's
wings clipped by the dragon. The very thought of it makes him twitchy.
Then. "The mint was great."

"I'd rather doubt he'd like a drunk ferret." Spoilsport? But Cailin's
chuckling anyway, at least until Kassi goes on, "I couldn't think of anyone
better." She agrees with the greenrider there, but M'rek's counter puzzles
her and she ventures, "Can't protect bcause you've been distracted and
you'll be pinned to the sands then? Shards. A clutch isn't so long..." She
might be starting to fight with him on that but she stops and considers
him. "What do -you- want, M'rek. If you don't know now, then tell me when
you do." -- "Ferrets gnaw." Nothing like a random jump from one to the other.

"Seventh Pass," Kassi supplies. "I eavesdropped while Gerome talked with
him at the Sandbar, a'course. But I don't know a sharding thing about
Gressen. Gerome said he'd have t'read up on him, so I don't know how much
more he knows." She breathes out a long sigh. Not exasperated, exactly;
it's the sigh of someone whose friend is being too hard on himself, at
least in her lights, and not for the first time. "I notice that Cailin's
here, and alive, and that her son's alive also, and that argues well for
your skill. I'd trust you t'protect one of m'children if'n they needed it.
And as far as the Sands thing goes, if'n you truly need t'get out of there
and Ulfianth will allow, call for Lyss and me; and if'n we can, we'll give
you a lift t'where you need t'be. Easy enough t'do." She does make a wry
face at clutch-isn't-so-long, but that might not be for M'rek. She sips the
froofy drink, flower petals brushing her nose.

Kassima adds too, with a grin, "Thankee. I liked it. Your costume was the
scene-stealer of the night, though."

Ten minutes can sometimes be too long for this Bronzerider with his itchy
feet. "Aye. Well. We can think about it some, Cailin. I just offer it out
there." And he flashes a smile to both of them, for they do seem to cheer
him up, "I appreciate that, Kassi." And he's touched, actually and then
hiding behind his drink before he says, "Call for Lyss. Well. That's
something as well, and I'll keep it in mind. But. Just you remember you
offered. I do get off on some strange errands at times. Maybe I will
dance.." He trails off, knocks back his drink and then on some wild hair,
gets up and winks to the ladies before he goes to join the dances, his
hands occasionally forming a Y or a C.

[Editor's Note:  Cailin and I both decided we couldn't top
that one, so the scene ends here.  It can be assumed that 
our chars drank, watched M'rek dance, possibly watched M'rek
dance on the table at some point, and then he took Cailin 
home at some unholy hour. ;) ]