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A Rose By Any Other Name


Date:  December 12, 1998
Place:  Lysseth and Kassima's Weyr
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:  A short little scene, this, posted mostly because of
its connection to the whole E'vrin Saga.  Kassi's decided that she 
wants to buy her suitor a gift.  However, she's unable to travel
*between* to meet with any Smiths in person--and that's where Emdrien
(an NPC @emitted by Syrali) and Syrali come in; with the assistance
of C'row and Servoth (also @emitted by Syrali for this log), they
come directly to the greenrider's weyr to bargain.

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The Log:

Servoth flares his wings on landing, then snaps them shut. << C'row, >> he
mutters, << we're here. >> The bronze's rider glances over his shoulder.
"We're here, come on, come on, off you go. Don't have all day, after all."
Journeyman Emdrien darts the rider a glare, but sets to unbuckling the
straps, nudging with his elbow at the apprentice clinging tightly to the
straps behind him. "You can open your eyes now, girl. We're here. Wasn't so
bad, was it?"

Kassima is standing in the entranceway of her weyr, clearly warned by the
bronze and his rider of their impending arrival. "Duties to the Smithcraft
and her Masters," she greets with a smile and a respectful nod. "I
appreciate your willingness t'come up to the Icy Wastes on this request...
and C'row and Servoth's for bringing you, a'course. I do hope neither of
them caused any trouble?"

Emdrien slides down, his wind-rumpled, graying black hair falling into his
eyes until he can get his balance and brush it back. "Certainly not,
Rider." He nods to the dragonpair, C'row tossing a salute and giving hardly
enough time for Syrali to get all the way down before they fling themselves
off the ledge again in a wild rush of wingbeats. "They were perfectly
proper. And the Smithcraft's duties to Telgar, of course."

Kassima murmurs with mock-surprise, "Perfectly proper? Those two? My.
Perhaps there's a first time for everything after all." More audibly and
with a stifled grin, she asks, "Come inside? I'm afraid I have limited
seating accomodations, but the chair and the rock are yours, a'course; I
can take one of the boxes. And would you care for aught t'be drinking?
Wine, brandy, mixed liquors, juice?"

Syrali's mutter to the Journeyman isn't quite low enough not to be
overheard: "They were /not/ perf--" but Emdrien covers her mouth with a
hand briefly. She blinks, he removes his hand, and she rolls her eyes
upward. "Smithcraft's duties," she echoes, and the J'man nods.

   "I'll take brandy, thank you, Rider." He steps toward the inner part of
the weyr, gesturing the apprentice curtly after. "She'll have juice," he
says over Syrali's attempted request.

Kassima stifles a grin and stands aside, drawing the curtain after them.
Several glowbaskets have been set at intervals around the room, so the
fairly large interior is well-lit. Not to mention being full of
fire-lizards, implements of death, and what-have-you. "Brandy and juice
'tis," she agrees, filling three of etched crystal wine glasses. Hugh's
finest in one, and redfruit juice in the others. These are set on the
smaller, shabbier table that lies between chair, rock, and empty boxes. One
of the latter, she claims for herself. "Now, Journeyman, Apprentice--about
this commission... you're skilled with glass-crafting, I'm hoping?"

"I am," Emdrien agrees, accepting the glass and seating himself in the
chair. He balances the brandy on his knee, fingers laced around it, and
nods Syrali toward the rock. The apprentice pauses only long enough to
claim her juice (with only the slightest grimace), then settles down.
"Syrali will assist as part of her apprentice lessoning, but I assure you,
nothing untoward will happen to your commission." The apprentice in
question looks less sure, but hides it behind her glass.

Kassima flashes a reassuring smile towards Syrali, assuring, "Oh, I'm
certain nay. I've received very satisfactory Apprentice work for
m'commissions a'fore, but this might require delicacy. 'Tis a gift for... a
friend." Some hesitation before using that term? "An Igen rider. 'Tis t'be
a wine chalice, shaped as a rose, with differing colors--would that be
possible? 'Twill confess, I know little of such matters, but I believe I've
seen similar pieces at Gathers."

Emdrien nods, sipping delicately at the brandy. He clears his throat,
commenting, "Very fine brandy. Certainly it's possible. I've done such a
piece in the past. It's just a matter of mixing the proper chemicals for
the dyes, and swirling them into the glass molding at the proper time--" He
seems quite ready to expound on the whole of the process, but breaks off to
catch at Syrali's glass as it begins to tip. The apprentice ducks her head
at his stern glance. "Sorry, sir." Funny, though, the timing of that. The
Journeyman shakes his head and looks up again. "Yes. Well. A rose, you say?"

"Hugh's finest," Kassi agrees, with a sidelong wink at Syrali. "Acquired
from the Rusted Hulk a'fore I lost the ability to travel. 'Twill be taking
your word on how 'tis done; I doubt 'twould understand the explanation,
frankly." Picking up her own glass, she sips from it a moment before
expounding, "A rose, aye, with a malachite-green stem--complete with
thorns, if'n 'twould be possible. Nay too many, nor too sharp, but they
should be there. And a bronze wire winding about it. Rose-pink for the cup
itself--sort of a rose quartz color, if'n you could--with gold streaking
down the interior from the rim. The more detail, the better, a'course."

Syrali hides a quick smile at the wink. Emdrien doesn't notice, keeping his
brandy balanced with one hand, the other arm propped on its elbow against
his knee. He taps his lips thoughtfully with his knuckles, ignoring the
strands of hair across one eye. "Yes," he mutters against his fingers.
"Yes, certainly. The gold and bronze will need to be added after the glass
molding, of course, but that's not terribly difficult. If it were clear
glass they could be placed inside, but with coloring you don't want to--"

   "Just rose-pink, or with petal etching on the outside?" the apprentice
breaks in, eyes wide with innocent curiosity. She subsides when the
Journeyman harrumphs at her. "Sorry, sir."

   "Yes. As I was saying. A good question. Etching weakens the glass
slightly, but if I were to put the gold traceries into them, that could
strengthen the cup overall."

"I'm certain you know best," Kassi assures the Journeyman with what appears
to be total sincerity. Turning to Syrali, she replies without hesitation,
"Petal etching would be ideal; that 'tis a rose should be clear. Gold
traceries would be good, aye... and oh, this is important: the green and
the rose should blend as little as possible, at the joining. Best if'n
they're as separated from each other as possible." Starting to lean back on
her box--and stopping rather abruptly upon remembering that there's no back
on it to lean against--she asks, "Now, what of the price...?"

Emdrien finishes the brandy in a swallow, setting the cup neatly aside, and
laces his fingers around his knee. "Of course, Rider. As much like a real
rose as possible. That's simply done." Syrali starts to protest, but he
bulls right over her. No wonder she's taken to 'distractions.' "Price,
price. Well, now. It's not the /easiest/ of projects," he says evasively,
despite his earlier comments. "Certainly I couldn't accept fewer than four
marks for it." The apprentice's eyes widen considerably.

"Really?" Kassi inquires with astonishment, making a moue of dismay. "Why,
I've commissioned similar works for only one and an eighth! With deference
t'your rank and the fact that there will be two working on it, though, I
suppose I could see m'way clear t'paying... oh... one and a half? I'd never
wish it t'be said that Telgar riders aren't generous." Her eyes are
sparkling, though her mein is serious; this is clearly a game she enjoys.
Another discreet wink is given to the wide-eyed Apprentice.

From where she's nestled in the corner, Lysseth gives a faint, sleepy
snort. Really, why her rider always insists on playing out this bargaining
business....

Syrali shakes her head slightly and tucks up her knees, dropping her chin
onto them while she watches the back-and-forth of bargaining. Emdrien
straightens up affrontedly. "Rider, if not for proper manners, I'd leave
right now." Getting down could be difficult, but that's not the point.
"Since the Smithcraft /does/ look to Telgar for protection, even though we
/do/ pay our full tithes and beyond," he says stiffly, "perhaps I could
give you a bit of a discount. Say, three marks and a fourth?"

Kassima rattles her tongue, affecting affrontery of her own. "Journeyman, I
do believe I've just been insulted. Really! Assuming 'twould be leaning on
the Smithcraft's beholden state! I'd almost be tempted t'cry insult, but
'twould certes nay wish t'harm relations between Weyr and Craft. In the
name of those relations, even though I truly should be saving all of
m'funds that I can for m'children and this one t'come--" See, you bully?
Stealing marks from a pregnant woman! For shame! "--I suppose I *could*
offer forth another half-mark. Two marks seems beyond fair t'me."

Emdrien's brows draw together, and he rises, gesturing curtly for Syrali.
"Call the good rider C'row, if you would be so kind. I will not stand by to
hear my skill maligned as no better than a rank novice's. Such a cup would
be worth the four marks and beyond, yet I'm offering for three and you
still suggest it's not worth such a price." The apprentice scrambles up,
eyes darting between her mentor and the rider uncertainly. "But Emdrien--"
"Not now."

Kassima gets to her feet similarly, all distant politeness and formality.
"Journeyman, I've confessed that I know little of Smithcrafting, and less
of Glasscrafting. All I have t'be going by is what m'cousin, Senior
Journeyman Ethrian, has told me. Now, I'm fain certain that I could get him
t'make me this cup for the one and a half I offered before." Mostly because
she'd threaten to sicc other relatives on him if he didn't, but she
neglects to mention this. "However, as 'twould hate t'be seeing your visit
here be for naught, 'twill offer two and a half marks. Will that suit, or
should I call for C'row indeed?"

The Journeyman clasps his hands behind him, drawing himself up to his full
height so he can look down his nose (albeit only a /little/ bit down). "For
sake of good relations between the Craft and Weyr, for sake of the time to
come up here, and since I have serious doubts that your cousin, whose work
I've seen, and who as far as I am aware has never done a mixed-color piece
in his life, if you'll settle on two and three quarters, we'll do the cup
for you."

Kassima elects, wisely, not to mention the numerous multi-colored stained
glass pieces she's procured from Ethrian; she simply wears a pensive look
for several moments, but finally dips her head in assent. "Two and
three-quarters, Journeyman, as you say. The price is high, but... naught
but the best will do for this gift. Consider the bargain made, Journeyman,
Apprentice."

Emdrien inclines his head in turn, offering a hand to seal the bargain.
Syrali, perhaps wisely, opens her mouth and promptly shuts it again. Yes,
she's learning more than glasscraft from this. "With all good will, as you
say. We should have the piece for you within two to three sevendays. Will
that be soon enough?"

Kassima clasps the proffered hand with her own, long-fingered,
knife-scarred, and strap-calloused. Her other hand is offered to the
Apprentice for a similar gesture of sealing. "It should be quite
satisfactory, Journeyman, and thankee. Would it be best if'n I sent one of
m'Wingriders after it?"

Syrali accepts the clasp hesitantly, head cocked a little to one side.
Emdrien pats her shoulder, back to his mild good humor with the bargaining
ended. "It would be much better than a runnerbeast, Rider," he agrees, his
mouth twisting in a wry smile. "So long as your Wingrider flies gently."

Kassima chuckles under her breath. "A tough call. V'dan and Chymeth are
m'smoothest fliers, but the man's such a clutz... well, I shall find
someone. Jirel and Joiryth, perhaps. My thanks, again, t'both of you for
your willingness t'come all this way."

"Hardly a problem, Rider," Emdrien laughs. "Myself, I'm always pleased to
take a bit of traveling other than on runnerback. It's not so good for
these old bones." Syrali looks a little less pleased, but only nods quickly
in answer. The Journeyman adds in afterthought, "I'll be certain, of
course, to have the cup packed in thick wool. There should be no problem,
particularly with the metal reinforcement."

Kassima bobs her head again, much less hesitantly. "I appreciate that,
Journeyman. And I quite prefer air-travel m'self, though that might be
expected." With a wry smile to Syrali, she inquires, "D'you wish me t'send
for C'row and Servoth now?"

Syrali darts a glance at Emdrien. He nods, gesturing her out toward the
ledge. "If you'd be so kind." The apprentice chimes in before he can stop
her, "And can they fly a little... umm... slower this time?" The Journeyman
frowns at her, but she adds stubbornly, "It was /scary/."

Kassima rolls her eyes towards the ceiling. "That C'row. You'd think on a
bronze, he'd nay be able t'do those bloody aerobatic tricks, but--aye,
'twill relay the order." Soon enough, there's the sound of nearby
wingbeats, and claws scraping across rock. Kassi draws the entranceway
curtain aside to peer out at the rather downcast-looking bronzerider. "I
believe he'll behave himself," she informs the two Smiths, sweetly--a tone
which only serves to dampen poor C'row's exuberance further.

Syrali's sigh of relief is quiet, but nonetheless audible. The Journeyman
smiles wryly, moving past and out onto the ledge with the apprentice
trailing. "You're very kind. Many thanks for the brandy," he adds, cuffing
Syrali lightly across the shoulder. She nods, echoing his thanks though she
didn't touch the juice at all; it's still in beside her rock. "In three
sevendays, then, rider."

"Kind? Me? You'd be surprised how many folk would drop dead of shock t'hear
you say that," Kassi jests, with a grin of her own. "'Twas a pleasure doing
business with and meeting you both. Duties t'your Hall and her Masters, and
aye, 'twill be seeing you in three sevendays. Clear skies t'you both until
then!"

Emdrien steps up and pulls himself astride, putting the lie to his gray
hairs by helping Syrali hoist herself up after him. "Likewise, Rider." The
apprentice mutters something not quite audible and winds her fingers into
the straps, eyes firmly shut. The Journeyman chuckles, nudging her, but
whatever he says is lost as Servoth turns about and drops off the ledge,
his wings snapping wide into the wind.