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The Scientific Method


Date:  January 6(?), 2000
Places:  Smithcraft Hall's Skyspace, Main Meadow, and Lounge
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:  It was late at night, at the tail end of the holiday
season, when this RP took place, and there's a certain whimsical
nature to it that might be attributable to that. :)  I think dropping
in on some hapless Crafters was originally May's idea, and it 
certainly gathered a number of interested parties.  It was a rather
enjoyable session, all told.  I've left in a lot of knot chat both
prior to and during the visit, just for kicks. :)

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The Log:

Telgar Weyr> Maylia's tortured lotsa Healer apps, but not sure about weavers.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo then puts two and two together. Weavers. Apprentices.
Torture. Fashion? Uh oh, a man weakness.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Weavers? Torture? What? What? (I walk onto the
weirdest convos.... ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia's got a now-NPC sibling there... would prolly be at
LEAST a j'woman by now. Makes a good IC reason to visit.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo watches Kassi BEAM at the mention of torture. ;) Do the
weavers also make riding leathers?

Telgar Weyr> Kassima oohs. Y'all're going to Weaver?

Telgar Weyr> Maylia's thinking 'bout a trip to the weavers. A couple apps
online. :) Yeah, I'd think that tanners and leatherworkers are there...

Telgar Weyr> Kassima nodnods, they do. Or I'd assume so, since they gave
Kassi that voucher for free leathers at the Gather.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Is black an allowable riding leathers dye colour?"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia doesn't see why not?

Telgar Weyr> Kassima would think so.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo just makes sure. =)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima *hopes* so, in fact, since Kassi's jacket was black
before it got turned into a psychadelic mess. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "You've seen my leatherdesc, yes? O:) (still
gotta find an 'excuse' to wear that...)"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima fears the Leatherdesc.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo has! And loses the ability to speak coherently when
thinking about it. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia WOOOOOS, and created something Kassi fears!

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "A'course, wasn't Fear, but... ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snickers. Well, you'd fear too if people kept urging
you to get your own leathers of evil when they see it! ;)

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo nudges Tas outta the way, and gives you an excuse? ;)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia laughs :) Man... d'you realize, it's been almost a year
since I've RP'ed with Tas?

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "Anyways, we going? Kassi??"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia balls up her fist, and PUNCHES this lag.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo stands WAY back from that lag. He doesn't want to be
mistaken for being friends with it. *eep* A year's quite a while... but RL
happens. =/

Telgar Weyr> Kassima oohs and will go, sure. :) I'm just in time to miss
the Weaver who's going to do Kassi's leathers, but Kassi doesn't know that.
;) Want me to warn the Weavers via channel? Aiyeee, a *year*?

Telgar Weyr> Maylia nodnods, I think it's been a year. Ohh, yeah, maybe
warning'em would be an idea.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Or should I get white? Any reason to be
camouflaged in this harsh clime? =)"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is amazed. I think I last RPed with him when we were
both models for that fashion show. Isn't white the color of innocence,
though? I can't believe an innocent bluerider. ;)

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo laughs! If he's NOT innocent, it's the fault of
greenriders. ;)

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo, IC, tends to be somewhat more introverted and with far
less joviality than his player. =)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia hmmms. It's also the colour of mourning in Asian
societies, isn't it?

Telgar Weyr> Kassima hrms. Well, the only Weaver online's eleven minutes
idle... we could go to the Lava Lounge and leave graffiti on the walls
instead? ;) Ooh. I'm the opposite way, myself. :) Kassi does a lot of
things I wouldn't, and my other alt--well, I still sometimes gape at things
she does. Hrm... that *sounds* right.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo thinks so. But only reason to mourn right now is that I
just poured the last of my Bailey's into a cup. No more 'til tomorrow.
*sigh* // The idea was to slowly bring K'ryo out of his shell, but a 5-year
RL idle kinda slowed those plans a great deal. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia hmms. Or, we could go to the smiths... I"m thinking,
find somewhere where ther're other people. *SNIFFLE* you POOR thing, no
more bailie's? I've still got a glass of wine. O:)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Kassi's personality was originally something
like mine. Shy, unprepossessing, given to overdoing the politeness gig. She
got over it. ;) Oh, that'd be a fun idea too."

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo will finish his Bailey's and then consider a raid into
the liquor cupboard upstairs. =) *gasps* Kassi's player? Shy? Say it ain't
so! ;) Other people to RP harass is cool. =)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is *terminally* shy. Though I wasn't too bad around
the folk at D*C, I don't think. :) (Though I'm still a bit embarrassed by
my first words upon meeting Amberyl: "May I worship you?")

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "Of course, I don't have an IC sibling to visit
there... unless one of the bro's app'ed there. Hmmmm."

Telgar Weyr> Maylia laughs, Kassi!

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo LOL @ Kassi. I can be horribly shy RL around new people,
too. It sucks. I need to work on that.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is, unfortunately, serious. ;) I think she was amused.
We could be visiting to buy knives and/or Emasculators? 0:)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "Anyways... shall we head? Smiths? They've got
THREE people in their lounge..."

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.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo instinctively oohs at the word 'lounge'. Sorry. =)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Sounds like a plan to me, Mon Capitan."

You spring from Lysseth's ledge with one downsweep of your wings, soaring
into the sky above the Northern Bowl.

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

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Okay, so I didn't realize everyone else was
already in the air. So color me a doof. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Sheesh. Slowpoke. ;)"

Dragon> Lysseth and Jaith sense that Tierth wheels in the air over the
Weyr, imaging the massive water wheels and buildings of the Smith Craft. <<
We go to visit, >> And a blurry image of a lad looking much like a younger,
masculine version of her rider is given. Of course, a new set of throwing
knives is incidental.

Telgar Weyr> Maylia backtracks to a knot-pose of Kaos. YOU??? SHY????

Telgar Weyr> Maylia doesn't believe it. NOt for one moment. ;)

<*> Tierth disappears into Between.

Lysseth> Tierth and Jaith sense that Lysseth, circling neatly, sends a
sense of pleasedness with the idea that probably comes from Kassima. <<
That would be a good place to go, my rider thinks. She'd like to get a look
at the newest knives available. >> One rider's incidental is another's
priority, ayep.

<*> 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!

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo is considerably better with people he knows, or in very
small groups. Take him to a place with a number of strangers, though,
and... =)

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

<*> Lysseth trumpets a brassy greeting to the local watchdragon, circling
above as her rider evidently tries to figure out where she should park.

<*> Tierth wheels, her wings easily carrying her on the winds with the
other two Telgari dragons. Finally, a slight change in how she holds those
glistening wings, and the green descends to the main meadow far below.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Besides, May, you caught me at a weird time, when
I was enjoying my newfound freedom to the fullest... well, as full as I
could at the time, anyways. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia notes, I get /lost/ here...

<*> Tierth spirals down to a landing on the main meadow.

You spiral down to a landing on the meadow between the various buildings.

<*> From above, Jaith and his rider have not been to this area in quite
some time, and they follow quietly.

<*> From above, Jaith spirals down to a landing on the main meadow.

<*> Jaith spirals down and lands carefully on the meadow.

<*> Maylia slides to the ground, giving Tierth a parting caress and a
tender smile.

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.

Maylia pulls the protective eyewear off her face, looking around. "I'm
guessing we're probably too late to find Marrel - 'tis late, he might've
been shooed off to the dorms already. But don't they have a lounge
somewhere? MIght find him in there, if he's up?" She calls to the other two
riders.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo hrms, wondering if he really has an IC motive for being
there.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Unless he was dragged kicking & screaming. =)"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "He got dragged with us?"

Kassima slips down from Lysseth's neck, tossing one end of a scarf back
over her shoulder where it belongs. "I always get lost here," she admits
with rueful humor. "D'you know where 'tis we'll be finding this brother of
yours, May? And," she can't help but add, "the knives? Oh, now, the
lounge--that's a good spot. Mayhaps they have mulled wine or cider, hey?
Warmth would be a *good* thing."

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo grins.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Poor man. Shanghaied by greenriders. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia grins :) Uhhh, tierth's getting flirty, and wanted
someone warm to snuggle with? Lysseth's just not... snuggly.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Oh, da howwow... ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Particularly not with other greens, no. ;)"

K'ryo's face seems to lighten at the mention of 'lounge' and 'wine'. He
simply nods his approval.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo chuckles. Jaith'll go for that. He's less introverted
than his rider.

Tierth turns whirling greeneyblue eyes Lysseth-wards, then towards Jaith.
Who to snuggle with in the cold is /not/ a hard descision, though that
brown on Watch is mighty tempting. Hmmmmmm. Her rider rolls her eyes,
waving a hand at the blue. "G'wan, cuddle, just keep your thoughts to
yourself." Maylia half mutters to the dainty green, then nods to her
friends. "Lounge sounds likely. Think they'll have throwing knives?"
Alright, so, maybe she's here to see her brother. But maybe knives were an
added incentive.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima gets paged by a Smith saying it's BH then Lounge. :)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia wheees, and was hoping one of'em would see and help!

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "heya, Keira :)"

Telgar Weyr> Keira says, "Hiya! :)"

Lysseth cannot stick her tongue out properly at Tierth, so her snort will
just have to suffice as she curls up neatly into a ball o' dragonflesh.
"Don't worry, Lyss. At least you can't gag when people are being sweet near
you," Kassi consoles. Yeah, that helps. "Knives would be *keen*, nay pun
intended. And mayhaps I could ask after some of those metal puzzles--Kris
would love 'em, and even Khari and Kay might be interested." Considering
the plethora of buildings, she closes her eyes and chants, "One-a-tuber,
two-a-tuber, three-a-tuber, four; which one will lead us to the Lounge's
door?" When the chant is over, she's pointing towards the Business Hall.
"Let's try thataway? It looks vaguely familiar."

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "Hey, Keira, we're off to torture Smithcraft folk
:) If you wanna come along, @tel #7707, then 'off', and you're here :)"

Jaith lifts his head some, as if posturing for Tierth's benefit, and giving
a thankful expression to her rider. K'ryo rolls his eyes a bit, and gets
ready to follow Kassima. She looks like she knows where to go.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo tempts her with a MKPM. =)

Telgar Weyr> Keira can't stay up too late tonight...

Keira swings her leg over, and slides to the ground with the aid of a foreleg.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "So get drunk at Smithcraft, pass out, and we'll
give you a ride home? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Keira says, "Yeah, right..."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Assuming we're not all too schnockered to fly
ourselves. With Kassi, let's face it, this isn't always a safe assumption. ;)"

"Sounds good to me," Maylia agrees, after looking about ready to try the
/wrong/ building. The Journeyman's Hall. Tierth waits politely for her
second passenger to dismount, then wades through snow towards Jaith.
Lysseth? Whossat?

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Or K'ryo... who knows, maybe y'all will end up in
K'ryo's weyr at the end of the night. (Okay, credit the guy with -some-
wishful thinking.) ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia giggles. Ways to embarrass a new apprentice. Go to be
early, have his sister arrive to visit, and have her get roaring drunk in
the Lounge...

Telgar Weyr> Keira laughs!

Pay no attention to the green behind the curtain? Lysseth gives one
disgusted rumble after her rider that has a vague tone of 'you'll pay for
this,' as said rider cheerfully makes tracks for her randomly chosen
destination.

You head through the ornate entrance into the Business Hall.

Maylia walks through the ornate entrance from the main meadow.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "It would not be the first time Kassi has wound
up with May and a third woman in some guy's weyr, would it, May? ;)"

K'ryo walks through the ornate entrance from the main meadow.

Telgar Weyr> Maylia giggles, nope, wouldn't be. :)

Lysseth> Keira follows along, glad to be getting out of the cold.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "Hi there"

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo's hope arises? ;)

Keira walks through the ornate entrance from the main meadow.

Telgar Weyr> Keira rolls her eyes.

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "heya, Balfur :)"

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo woo Balfur

You give a hard tug on the heavy metal door and walk into the small lounge.
The noise is definitely muted in here.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "Kassima.. that name rings a bell."

K'ryo shuts the door tightly behind him as he walks into the lounge.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "You'll have to explain that woo think."

Maylia shuts the door tightly behind her as she walks into the lounge.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "thinng"

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "thing, even."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima heyawaffles. :) Oh, dear. Woo thang? That is *Sandy's*
bizarrity, I swear!

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "Just nod your head and smile, Balfur. Only safe
thing to do when Woo'd at. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo woo's everyone on the knot, as a way of greeting. =)

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "nods his head and smiles."

Keira shuts the door tightly behind her as she walks into the lounge.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "Errr.. Ya.. That. :)"

Jerous stands up, turning, as all the people come into the room

Keira seems to be hanging back, trying to look inconspicuous.

Loren hears the doors open and looks across the room from the hearth side.
"Smithcraft's duties to Telgar and her queens." he says standing.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "Kassima, is that name from somewhere?"

"Woo-hoo! See, the tuber game was *right*!" Kassi announces with some
jubilation, though half of that jubilation might be more at getting out of
the cold than her success. "At least, I'm thinking this must be the
place... duties to the Smithcraft and her Masters," she greets, with a
snapped salute to... well, everyone. She's in a saluting mood.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "It's a spelling-altered version of Princess
Cassima of the Land of the Green Isles in King's Quest VI. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "THAT'S it.... ok. :) it was bothering me there
for a bit."

Maylia continues to shake her jacket - trailing snow after herself as she
heads into the lounge. A wince, and the young woman murmurs appologies for
what'll soon be puddles on the floor. That done, she smiles brightly,
"Telgars' duties to the Smithcraft Hall and her masters." Is offered, over
Kassi's exclamation of success. At least she doesn't salute.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "It's also a brand of bicycle and the name of a
heroine in some book called Two Cities. But I predate the book, so I
maintain that they stole the name from me. ;)"

Loren grins. "Please come and warm yourself by the hearth. We have mulled
cider and klah, if you's like."

K'ryo notices Kassima salute, and reflexively brings his feet together at
attention. Shaking his head, he relaxes, and immediately begins scanning
the room for the mentioned wine.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur laughs. "Mine was give to me by a friend... Dunno if it
comes from anywhere. :)"

Jannea sets down her mug and gives Kassi a wave and a grin. "Don't tell me
papa asked you to check up on me."

Keira unfastens her jacket, but leaves it on, looking about the room
curiously.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo hockey-geeks: A play on the name of Dallas goaltender Ed
Belfour? He sees everyone look at him oddly and hides behind his now-empty
mug of Baileys.

Jerous mutters to Loren, "... get "klah... cider"... the..."

"Cider'd be wonderful," Maylia states, eagerly, her eyes scanning over
those in the lounge. "Marrel's not anywhere around, is he?" She asks. Those
who pay attention to the most recent apprentices might just recognize that
one of them bears a distinct resemblance to the Telgari Weyrlingmaster. At
Jannea's question, she narrows her eyes, and shakes her head. "NOpe,
checking up on my own." Is answered with a smug smile.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "excellent....."

See Kassima. See Kassima brighten. See Kassima brighten specifically at the
mention of cider. "Craftsecond, those words are music to m'nigh-frostbitten
ears. Speaking for m'self, cider would be wonderful if'n 'twouldn't be any
trouble. I hope we're nay bothering you?" Espying Jannea, she grins and
waves back to the younger woman. "Mart? Ask me t'check up on his eldest?
Nay, nay, he'd likely nay trust me with the task. We're here looking up a
brother of May's... aye, as she says. And mayhaps making a purchase or two,
depending."

Balfur shuts the door tightly behind him as he walks into the lounge.

Keira peeks around Maylia's shoulder, looking hopefully for a mug of
something warm to drink. "Cider would be much appreciated."

Balfur says "Hello"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima is inspired by the Smithcraft visit to polish one of
her Christmas gifts from Mom. Namely, a dagger. My family knows me so well. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Maylia sighs, and notes, NEVER trim your own hair. You ALWAYS
take off more than an 'inch'.

Jerous nods at K'yro, and heads out

Jerous lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind him.

Loren shakes his head. "I've not seen Marrel tonight. Perhaps he's studying
or resting. There was a lot of shovelling out to do today." He bends to the
task of ladling mugs of hot cider, handing them to Jerous with the
instructions "Put in two cinnamon sticks and deliver to each that wants them."

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "So what's going on exactly? :)"

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo wonders if meeting Kassi would be a fearful event now.
=) Oh, May... silly. How much did you take off?

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "W're at the smiths to a)visit Maylia's younger
brother, newly apprencied (and NPC), and more importantly b) look into
buying new knives."

Jerous slips into the room from the kitchen.

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "Thank you kindly. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "Or anything else you might wish :)"

Loren shakes his head. "I've not seen Marrel tonight. Perhaps he's studying
or resting. There was a lot of shovelling out to do today." He bends to the
task of ladling mugs of hot cider, handing them to Jerous with the
instructions "Put in two cinnamon sticks and deliver to each that wants
them." <-- repose for jerous

K'ryo watches Jerous return with a look of anticipation.

Jerous offers two bottles to K'rwo "They said these were Benden" then nods
at the craft 2nd

Loren nods to Balfur. "Welcome to Smithcraft. May I help you?" he calls
standing up again.

K'ryo would beam if it was in his nature. Instead, he offers a low thanks
to the junior apprentice, as he lightens the young man's load.

Balfur answers quietly, "Thank you.... I'm with the others from Telgar. I'm
fine, thank you.

Jannea keeps out of the way there in her chair.

Jerous begins filling mugs with cinammon, and passing them aroudn quietly

Kassima glances back towards the exit. "I can believe that, with the snow
out there." Finding herself an inobtrusive place to sit, she wonders
teasingly of Maylia, "Does this mean we can move the new knives into the
top priority slot, mentee mine? You're most generous, Crafters; thankee
kindly." K'ryo is shot a brief, faintly envious look. "Oh, now, I wish I'd
thought of that. But the cider will be warmer, 'twould wager."

Keira waits for the riders to be served before accepting a mug.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Nahhh, no dangerous than it already would've
been. ;) I now own two swords and a dagger, though one sword won't hold an
edge and I'd bet the dagger won't either. The sword I got at D*C might,
though. 0:)"

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "There were amazingly beautifull at Downtown
Disney. :) If you ever go there, have a look."

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo saw some -nice- pieces at Faire last year.

Maylia frowns with disappointment. "Well, if we don't meet up with him,
could you relay my greetings to him? Our sister told me he wheedled his way
into an apprenticeship. Watch out for him, he'll tie your shoelaces
together between steps." She warns, jokingly. "I'm pretty certain we've met
on a few occasions, CraftSecond Loren. Maylia, rider of Tierth at Telgar."
The introduction is also extended to the apprentice bringing the cider.
Patiently, the rider nods. "Yes, mentor-mine, knives are then pushed up to
priority."

Telgar Weyr> Maylia's still VERY worried 'bout one of my friends. Jeff's
apartment is decorated with Rugrats stuff, and knives/swords/axes.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo says, "Maybe he wants to kill the Rugrats? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "heh... You should see some of the people I know."

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "Perhaps he hated his childhood."

Telgar Weyr> Maylia says, "Unfortunately not, Kao. :P"

K'ryo catches Kassi's look, and hesitates just a spilt-second before
holding it in her direction as an offering. "Not as much fun drinking alone."

Kassima accepts a mug of cider with a murmured thank-you, bringing it up to
let the steam warm her face and the cup her hands for a few moments before
drinking. "Ach, manners are failing me--Kassima, I am, or Kassi if'n you'd
rather. Green Lysseth's perpetual source of debate. Well met, and all that
sort of thing." She positively *beams* at this answer. "Wonderful! May I
ask, then, Crafters--do any of you make knives? Or puzzles for children, by
chance?" She switches the mug to her other hand to accept one of the
bottles with a grin. "Thankee, K'ryo. You're right on that. Here; t'repay
for the sharing--" A hand is freed momentarily to let her fish out a small
vial of ominous blue-green liquid from her jacket and proffer it.

Jerous hands out the last mug of cider, and finds an out of the way place
to sip his own

K'ryo eyes Kassima's offered vial with some interest. He does accept it,
and mumbles his appreciation. After holding it up to the light to examine
its contents, another look is cast the greenrider's way -- this one
questioning.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima notes for K'ryo that the vial is full of Kassi's most
infamous brew, a noxious blend of raw alcohols that can make greenrider
women drunk with one sip and greenrider men turn purple. Sip at your own
risk. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Balfur says, "Nice. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Keira decides not to drink anything else Kao gives her.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Legend has it that, kept long enough, it either
corrodes through the container or spontaneously combusts. ;)"

Loren ducks his head in aggreement. "Certainly Maylia, I'll remember. And
it is good to see you again after all the turns. Remember six turns ago
when you startled a pair of apprentices with a weyrling visit?" He turns to
Kassi and gives his warmest smile. "Loren, at your service, ma'am." he
bow's slightly then rises, appraising the green rider appreciatively.

Maylia eyes that vial of bluegreen liquid as if it were a tunnelsnake.
Repressing a shudder, she manages a smile of thanks to Jerous for the cider
she's delivered, and wraps her hands around it. "Oh, please, Keira, don't
wait for us." She says softly with a nod, moving out of the girl's way. A
warning glance is sent to the bluerider - whether or not he sees it is
debatable.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo BEAMS! Marry me? ;)

Telgar Weyr> Balfur laughs!

Telgar Weyr> Kassima laughs! AM probably wouldn't approve to married
riders, alas. ;)

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo sidles up close to Kassi. It'll be -our- secret. ;)

Loren now answers the rest of Kassima's question. "Indeed we do, Kassima.
All sorts, though I'd have to forward your requests to the proper smiths."
He also looks wonderingly at the vial, but says nothing.

Balfur settles down into one of the couches, getting comfortable.

"'What's In the Bottle,'" Kassi clarifies, as if that will help. "Just a
small something I brew in m'spare time. Don't worry; 'tis nay aged too far.
The glass hasn't been etched through yet." Oh, how encouraging. "Ack!
Craftsecond Loren, 'twill beg you on bended knee nay t'be calling me ma'am.
That implies respectability, which is m'utmost fear." Leaning back onto one
of the couches and working to open the wine bottle, she explains, "May and
I are greenriders, y'see, which--as Jannea could likely tell you--means we
need suitable weaponry t'be properly threatening maleriders with. Such as
M'rgan. This is very key and vital. The puzzles, now, I'm interested in for
m'youngest son--he's just turned four."

Jannea rolls her eyes at Kassi's over-dramatization. "Papa's never been
that cruel to you. Except for that Turnday dress he got you."

Maylia stands for a moment with cider in hand, then glances around her.
With a fluid motion, the young rider settles into a seat, smiling up at the
smith before her. "I'd probably be talked into buying a new set of throwing
knives," she allows, then rolls her eyes Kassi-wards. "What's in the
bottle," she repeats, "Is one of the most potent drinks I"ve ever tried."
Of course, this was stated quietly, so only those really close to her might
hear. Added to this, even more quietly, is, "Of course, the puzzles would
be almost as lethal to the likes of M'rgan as the knives..."

Keira settles herself on the edge of one couch, wary of taking up too much
space or getting in the way of anyone. She sips at her cider quietly,
though she does grin a bit at the greenriders' quips.

K'ryo listens to Kassima's description of the vial's contents, and nods
liking what he hears so far. He goes back to peering at it a moment and
overhears the word, 'potent.' His eyes take on an unusual light. He find a
seat nearby to Kassima -- though not too close upon hearing her love of
threatening male riders -- setting the wine bottle down close, and he pops
open the vial.

Loren sits down again and thinks, while peering into the flames of the
hearth. Hearing about the turnday dress he glances Jannea's way then back
to Kassima. "I understand, I think. Well, Senior apprentice Tanon is our
best weapons smith. He's posted to Ista at this time. As for puzzles, I
think I remember seeing journeyman Tournel making a pair of links that took
some thinking to join and separate."

Maylia eyes K'ryo as he pops open the vial. "How's Jaith at taking images
from other dragons?" she inquires, casually.

Jerous leans over, whispering, to Keira

Kassima shudders at the very memory. "Pink. The man gave me a *pink* dress.
And he wasn't even *trying* t'be evil! I swear t'you, Jannea, you've one
weird and somewhat mental man for a foster-father." Hello, Kettle? Pot
calling. "Quite a compliment coming from you, May. I'm still trying t'whip
up something even better, but the other things I've tried just haven't
packed the same explosive power. Cider's good, isn't it?" she asks Keira,
taking a sip of hers. Yes, the woman is planning to alternate cider and
liquor, the better to get the best of both worlds. "Try it," she encourages
K'ryo brightly. "I'm always interested in observing its effects on someone
new. Tanon? I've met him, awhile agone--when he was still weyrmated to...
Alania, methinks?"

Keira tilts her head slightly to catch the smith's whisper, then smiles and
turns slightly to reply, also in a whisper.

K'ryo is about to raise the vial to his lips, but halts at the mention of
his dragon. Coming back to the real world, he replies to the
weyrlingmaster. "He's adept."

"He'd better be," Maylia answers with a grin. "If'n you're going to be
drinking /that/." Innocently, she sips at her cider. "Tanon's your best,
hmm?" The younger of the two greenriders asks. "Pity he's not here. Any
promising apprentices in that field? Often worth it to get a well made
apprentice peice, when they're nearly ready to walk the tables to
journeyrank."

Jerous chuckles "OK, so its not a regional thingy then. Its great, in any
case!"

Jannea chuckles as she sets down her empty mug. "You did look rather nice
except for all those ruffles, Kassi." Now is the time to make a strategic
retreat before she can start bellowing. Nea makes her way to the door and
out. "Say hello to M'rgan and Kena when you see them."

Jannea lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind her.

K'ryo gives a -long- look at Maylia. Her implication only improves his
resolve to try -- and enjoy -- it. Down the hatch!

Loren watches the vial, like a fly watching a spider, then shakes him self
slightly, breaking the spell. "Mmmm... actually Journeyman Selina is our
best weapons smith but she's still on extended leave."

Lysseth> Tierth warbles, watching the smithcraft young woman head across
the fields. That done, she promptly /leeeaaaannnns/ with a sweet sigh.
Either Jaith's there where she's leaning, or she'll flop inelegantly in the
snow.

Keira sets her near-empty mug on a nearby table, standing and excusing
herself in a barely-audible voice, "Need to get some fresh air..."

"Ruffles..." Kassi repeats, with a hint of the moan of a tortured thing.
"K'ryo, thankee doubly for this wine. I need t'blot out the memory of that
dress. 'Twas *horrid*," she adds, for benefit of those who haven't seen the
gown in question. "Can you imagine *me* in pink and ruffles and all? And
the brownie had the nerve t'be *whistling* at me! I should've decked him, I
really should've." Realizing she's strayed somewhat from the topic, she
adds, "Anyway, I'm digressing. There wouldn't be any pieces here at the
Hall already made that we could look over, would there?" Ooh, but now
K'ryo's drinking. She must watch. "It's nay killed him yet..." she observes
helpfully, while waving in parting to Keira.

Keira edges toward the door, pausing to wave and grin. "I'll just be
outside for a bit. Don't forget me here. I have a feeling I'd make a rather
poor smith."

Maylia watches Keira leave with some concern, but soon shrugs it off.
"We'll not leave without you," She calls after the young woman.

K'ryo swallows. Mind you, the Telgari bluerider does have a well-deserved
reputation for his alcohol tolerance. It, however, has not fully prepared
him for -this-. His face pinches up, and turns a bright red colour as a
burning sensation hits his stomach. A rough cough/exhalation/wheeze erupts
from him, as his eyes start watering. After a moment of regathering
himself, he looks at the vial, and then Kassima with a newfound respect...
and a touch of fascination. "I love it," he croaks.

Loren chuckles and sits back. "I rememebr tales of a pink nighty someone
wore in exchange for fourty seven marks and a half mark." He tosses out,
watching the rider quaff the vial.

Keira slips out, offering Maylia a reassuring smile before she closes the
door.

Keira lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind her.

Lysseth> Jaith is there, without a doubt. He does do his best to be a
ladies' dragon -- now if only his rider would take notes. His long blue
neck rolls under Tierth's to add a little more support, but more for the
cuddling, to be honest.

Kassima--get this--*blushes* at the mention of said pink nightie. "'Twasn't
a *nightie*... 'twas pants, a blouse, and a jacket, perfectly decent," she
defends. "If'n totally ridiculous looking. But it made me rich, or richer,
so I suppose I can't complain." The greenrider beams, just beams, at K'ryo,
and raises her mug of cider in a toast. "You survived! Congratulations! And
you didn't even turn *purple*... you don't have any urge t'start hiccuping
and singing 'What D'You Do With a Drunken Rider' atop some table now, do
you? I ask for research purposes, you understand." Stealing a look around
the room, she offers, "Anyone else care t'be trying some?"

Balfur looks at Kassima.. "Welllll....

Lysseth> Tierth would purrr, if a dragon could. Instead, it comes out
somewhere between a crooon and a rumble.

Loren holds up his hands in a warding gesture and shakes his head. "No,
thanks. I have a hall to help run. Maybe when I'm next up Telgar way?"

Lysseth> Lysseth makes a sound remarkably akin to the disgusted grumblings
her rider issues around nauseatingly sweet couples.

K'ryo involuntarily lets another soft cough escape him, as he shakes his
head in response to Kassima's research questions. He blinks and looks
around the room... his movements just a tad slower than moments ago. A
quick glance back to the greenrider out of the corner of his eye seems
hopeful.

Balfur smiles, "I'd do anything for research."

Eyes the color of the summer sky look out at you from a sun tanned face.
Balfur is tall for his age, (around 17 Turns) but his muscular frame is by
no means awkward. His shoulders are squared and sit solidly atop a well
developed chest. His torso tapers in to a slim waist and long, athletic
legs. His hands are large, and caluses show he's not unacustomed to hard
work. Dirty blonde hair cascades from atop his head in wavy streams which
dance across his forehead. His smile is friendly, if a bit shy.

Maylia watches K'ryo with some ammount of speculation, then shakes her
head. "More evidence I should never wager. I'd've thought you'd be out cold
with one sip, Kao," she tells the blue rider. "Balfur, I'd not, were I
you." Could this greenrider be revealing some indication of her own alcohol
tolerance, or is K'ryo really that unsusceptable to the whiles of the Vial?
At any rate, Kassi's request of seeing finished works drew her attention,
and she looks hopeful.

"It *probably* wouldn't kill you," Kassi encourages Balfur. Yeah, that'll
convince him to try it. "By all means, Loren, if'n I can get the materials
t'be making it from Marcus. He's usually very obliging, though, so long as
I don't make aught explode in the Lounge again." Grinning at K'ryo, she
suggests, "Let the lad have a sip, and then you can drink the rest?
Assuming you'd be able t'get home after doing so. I'm digressing again,
though--did you say there were or weren't any already-made knives about, sir?"

Balfur studies K'ryo, "It doesn't look so bad."

Loren stands and walks out of the room, then comes back with a small sack.
"This is a sampling of Tournel's work." The bag contains several simple
wire puzzles, in shapes of triangles, spirals, squares and pentagons.

Lysseth> Jaith warbles softly to Tierth in a semi-rhythmic manner, his
tail-tip performing a gentle, probing stroke down the tail of the pretty
green beside him. The nearby grumblings go mostly ignored, as the blue
seems to recognise them as to what his own rider would do... if he made
much noise at all, that is.

Balfur looks at Maylia, "See, I probably won't die! What's the danger?"

K'ryo wavers slightly from upright in his seat, as if for Balfur's benefit.

Maylia repeats, "Probabaly," for Balfur. And again: "PRobably." Ohdear,
maybe with her mentor, and maybe with riders who age her by ten or so
turns, she'll be simply sarcastic, but with others she takes on a rather
lecturing tone. "D'you really want to be taking that risk? Of course, we
can always strap your unconcious body to one of the dragons for the trip
home, but I'm told a trip *between* unconcious can lead to some pretty
horrendous nightmares."

The bluerider's normal goldish skin tone begins returning... save for the
reddish hue colour remaining on the end of his nose.

Kassima's brows fly up, and a delighted expression crosses her face as she
peeks into the bag. "Oh, Kris would love these! Khari might like 'em,
too--she's into artsy things. Kay probably doesn't have the patience,
more's the pity. How much would it cost t'be taking some of these home with
me, then?" Looking back over towards the others, she stifles a snicker.
"If'n he's sure he wants t'try it... wait a moment; I might have another
vial, actually." She straightens and unhooks her jacket, holding out one
side to display the small bar stocked there: multiple vials have been
tucked discreetly into hidden inner pockets. "Let's see... the top on this
one looks a bit corroded. Bet that's it." Another vial of the evil stuff is
produced and proffered. "A'course, if'n you've nay much tolerance, you
might do better t'listen to May. She knows plenty about drinking."

Balfur looks at Maylia with interest. "Nightmares? Do you have an
conclusive proof?"

Lysseth> Tierth gives the elder green as sour a look as this demure
creature might, then concentrates on the wonderous support of a /blue/ to
curl about.

Loren nods and murmers 'V'hryn' after hearing Maylia, then to Kassima. "I
think a mark for the bag would make Tournel smile."

Balfur accepts the vial and eyes it criticaly. He very carefully pulls out
the cork and takes a small wiff. "Doesn't smell so bad...." he mumbles to
himself. He looks around at the others, undecided.

"I /was/ a Healer apprentice." Maylia notes for Balfur. Of course, this
isn't exactly a 'yes' to conclusive proof. And she likely didn't run into
this stuff before comming to the Weyr on Search. But it's not like Balfur'd
recall that little detail, since it was a turn or so after that that this
greenie made an appearance at Telgar.

K'ryo leans forward a little too quickly, and a leg of his shoots out to
help steady himself. Oops. That still-unopened wine bottle of his is
knocked over and goes rolling across the floor.

Also, some might know that Maylia was a /very/ junior apprentice, at best.

Kassima blinks up at Loren. "What was that about V'hryn?" she wonders.
"I've met him. Strange young man. Mart once nearly hided him for asking too
many questions." She looks back down at the bag, and chews her lip. "'Tis
tradition for me t'haggle, but that actually sounds t'be an almost
reasonable price. I don't suppose I could talk you down to three-quarters
for the lot?" Her eloquent reply to Balfur is, "'Tis your funeral, lad.
Just don't splatter innards on us if'n you decide t'spontaneously explode,
that's all I ask." May is only slanted a wry look.

Jerous captures the bottle, shakign his head

Balfur says "Oh, a healer. In that case! I trust your abilities.", says
Balfur, his mind made up."

Maylia begins a smile of satisfaction. Another person dissuaded from trying
some of Kassi's brew? Of course, this means all the more for her, in
private of course.

Lysseth> And Jaith is only too happy to provide support, comfort, and
affection to such a beautiful creature. His tail does seem to take on a
slightly more relaxed and playful tone to its stroking.

Carefully bringing the vial to his lips, Balfur takes a small sip. "Well."
He says after licking his lips. Pausing to examine the cealing
thoughtfully, he then licks his lips. "Gleeb" is muttered softly as he
folds over into a comatose heap.

Loren sits again, smiling to Kassima. "Just stories from some of the smiths
posted around. We do get together and swap them. The one of V'hryn and a
pair of Telgar Riders is a classic. But.. To be fair to Tournel, what say
seven eighth marks?"

Maylia looks, mock-accusingly, at Kassi. "This," A gesture goes to Balfur's
unconcious body, "Is not my fault. You get to carry him to Lysseth and get
him home." With interest, she sets her mug of cider aside, and reaches for
one of the metal puzzles from the sack. Let's see just how long it takes a
greenrider to become logical. Either that, or how long it takes for random
chance to solve the puzzle for her, which is far more likely.

K'ryo peers Balfur's way through his newfound haze. "Did he...?" he begins
to ask. Silence is all that follow as he forgets what he was saying.

Kassima glacks and swoops to recover the vial before its precious contents
can spill, stoppering it up again deftly. "Oh, dear," she murmurs. "Me? Me?
I suppose you're going t'be blaming Thread on me next, then?" A blink is
directed towards K'ryo. "Did he what, dance the Dance of the Pants while
reciting the myriad reasons nay t'be having a weyrmate backwards? I'm
afraid nay. Would've been entertaining if'n he had, though." Tucking the
vial away, she heaves an exaggerated sigh. "I *suppose* 'tis m'duty t'be
seeing him safe home, though. I just hope he doesn't explode. A deal, then,
Craftmaster: seven-eighths for the bag... *and* for a telling of just which
story 'twas you've heard."

Balfur shudders warningly, in response to Kassima's exploding comment.

Loren watches the delayed effects of the mystery vial, with detached
interest, as long as the brew stays down. To Kassima, he grins. "Done! ...
well, it's a telling in parts. Things don't normally come to smiths
straight, so there's only the bits and pieces that make the tale."

Jerous lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind him.

Jerous shuts the door tightly behind him as he walks into the lounge.

Kassima dips into her belt pouch to start fishing out the marks, making a
small stack of eighth-pieces on the table in front of her. "'Tis all right;
I'm interested in any version. I've a sinking feeling that it may involve
me somehow."

Maylia jingles the metal puzzle about in her hands, frowning at it, then
Kassima. "Do you pull thread outta your jacket?" She asks, innocently, then
flashes her mentor a smile. "You sure a four turn old'll be able to do
this?" Again, a puzzled look goes to the toy.

K'ryo looks at Kassima, and responds to her question with an
intelligent-sounding, "Huh?"

Loren sits back and relaxes, taking a sip of the lukewarm cider. "The first
part is from a mastersmith at Boll. He mentioned that he heard from a
winecrafter that Marcus had seen V'hryn lapse unconsious or nearly so, a
pair of female Telgar riders in attendance. They left together, V'hryn
between them. Another part came from one of the beachmen there, about
finding clothes washed up on the pool shore. ... It's a puzzle that does
take a bit of thought. " He take the spiral linked pieces, rotates the
paier to a certain position and gives a half twist, unscrewing one from the
other.

"Nay the lethal kind, and given the age of this jacket, I try t'avoid
pulling out the non-lethal kind too." Kassima watches Maylia with the
puzzle for a moment before flashing her mentee a grin. "You don't know
m'youngest very well. He's actually--would you believe it?--a quiet,
studious sort. And *very* intelligent, if'n you'll take m'biased word. The
longer it takes him t'be figuring those out, the happier he'll be. I
daresay he'll be a Harper someday," she adds, with motherly pride. Over the
rim of her cider mug, she peers at K'ryo. "You only had *one* sip of that
stuff, right? Oh, *dear*...." That seems more for Loren's tale than his
unfastening of the metal bits. "Well, aye, that's accurate enough. 'Twas me
and Aurian who did the act in question. We dressed him in women's lingerie
and dragged him t'Auri's weyr, then convinced him he'd gotten there of his
own free will. His screams were quite remarkable."

Maylia holds one half of the puzzle in one hand, letting the other dangle
with a faint jingle of metal. A shake, and it jingles more. The
Weyrlingmaster is clearly quite puzzled, but she listens with interest to
the tale, grinning slightly. "Better a harper than a bronzerider," is
quipped, before she nods agreement. "I seem to recall those screams, in fact."

K'ryo blinks at Kassima. And is silent for a moment. "Sip?" He finally
realises he's still holding the bottle, and hold it up to the light. Sip,
indeed. He slammed the entire vial.

Lysseth> Taralyth spirals down and lands carefully on the meadow.

Loren chuckles and nods. "So did our smiths at the Weyr. A rider was
laughing to one of them, describing the pink aparition he saw when he flew
past a certain weyr. Seems it had ruffles. Well, that puzzle is solved
then." He picks up another of the puzzles, a pair of linked triangles. A
certain position of the pieces is set and the two separate in a single
slide. "Like that. "

Lysseth> Tierth, leaning... no, curled up with, Jaith, gives Taralyth a
warble of greeting. Of course, while the bronze is so much bigger, and
therefor warmer, she's not about to abandon the blue. *sigh*

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo laughs! It's not the -size- of the dragon... ;)

Maylia grinds her teeth, as the Smith craftsecond solves a second puzzle.
More intensely, she peers at the one she claimed, twisting and turning the
two parts.

Telgar Weyr> Maylia grins :)

Lysseth> Taralyth lands neatly in an already-marked-up set of what had been
snow and is now quite decidedly slush, dark muzzle held high - and there's
that returned warble, clear and congenial, for all that it just sets his
rider's teeth to further chattering. "Why you..." I'sai quits his muttering
in favor of, once he's unstrapped, trying to find a less muddy place to
slide down onto.

Lysseth> I'sai slides down from Taralyth's neck.

Kassima just... stares at that empty vial. And utters the only thing she
really can: "Uh-oh...." She scans the room a moment as though considering
diving for cover. "May, we may have a problem... oh, he could be both," she
then suggests, with a brief grin. "His sire was. Mmm-hmm, a pink lace robe
that wouldn't close properly is what we put him in. He was... nonplussed.
You're really quite good at that, Craftsecond."

"Problem?" Maylia inquires, glancing up from her concentration on that ...
htat... that... sharding puzzle. Again, there's a jingling of metal, as she
tries to get the two peices apart. Give her much more time, and she'll try
brute force. "What problem?"

Lysseth> Lysseth, curled up neatly in her very own nest of slush, rumbles
amiably enough to the newly-arrived bronze. He isn't being nauseating, like
those other two--she can be cordial to him.

Kassima points to the beschnockered K'ryo. "I can't believe he drank the
whole thing," she says by way of answer. She still looks somewhat amazed.
Somewhat awed. And perhaps, just perhaps, a touch afraid.

Lysseth> Jaith seems to pause for juuuuuust a moment, appraising the
exchange between green and bronze. Seeing that Tierth appears to be happy
right where she is restores his confidence, and he curls around just a
little closer, trying to twirl his tail around hers.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo giggles madly. Beschnockered? ;)

Lysseth> I'sai, now settled and in the dragons' shadow, eyes the buildings.
Still muttering. Which - Taralyth snorts; he shakes his head. Right.
Tracks. Meanwhile, his dragon regards Lysseth for a moment, caught with
stretched-out paw curled above a stretch of virgin snow.

Lysseth> I'sai heads through the ornate entrance into the Business Hall.

I'sai shuts the door tightly behind him as he walks into the lounge.

A roundish, striped -thing- peeks through the door first: that's I'sai's
helmet, the rest of him soon following.

Maylia drops the metal puzzle, neatly missing her quarter filled mug of
cider. "He drank it all?" She asks, clearly stunned. With a jingle, as the
puzzle hits the table's surface, the two peices come apart. "Shardit."
Whether this expletive is directed at K'ryo, or at the puzzle, is difficult
to tell.

K'ryo flashes an uncharacteristic warm smile at Kassima. "You said you had
more?" Movement across the room gets his slow attention. He peeeers at the
door to no avail. He can't see who it is right now.

Lysseth> Lysseth cracks open an eye to peer towards the bronze, tilting her
head to consider his chosen poise. Finally, she decides that just what he
intends to do with that snow is eluding her and warbles a questioning note.

Telgar Weyr> K'ryo meant to say, "Yaaa shyaid jya had more?" =)

Kassima starts at the appearance of the roundish striped thing, nearly
spilling the lukewarm cider in her lap. "Aigh! Oh--'tis I'sai. G'deve,
I'sai. Are you looking for knives, too?" To Maylia, she nods, peering back
at the bluerider. "He *did*. And he *lived*. This will have t'be going in
m'research notes. Are you sure you *want* more, K'ryo? It could be
hazardous t'your health...." The smile seems to disconcert her somewhat.
She is not used to receiving warm smiles, for some odd reason.

"Should I be?" I'sai inquires, once he's gotten that helmet off, and
automatically run fingers through flattened hair. "I don't -think- I lost
any, and if I did, they probably wouldn't be here, even considering - well.
Ah, hello, everyone."

Maylia picks up the two halves of the puzzle, and gives them a positively
perplexed look. "Evening, I'sai," She greets with a friendly smile, then
nods to her mentor. "Research notes? Shells, you sound like that
rose-touting Healer."

Lysseth> Ellora emerges from the ornate door of the business hall.

Lysseth> Decisions, decisions. By way of partial answer, Taralyth sinks
back on his haunches to brace his spine's arch, only those talon-tips
grazing the snow at first. Cold snow. Cold-but-dry snow, unlike what he's
sitting in, he lets it be known. Perhaps Jaith would like some. Special
snow, barely touched by even draconic claw.

Jerous stands, stretches and offers "Could I get anyone somethign from the
kitchen?"

Lysseth> Ellora blinks at the sight of dragons as she trudges through the
snow. She draws back, eyes widening.

Lysseth> Taralyth eases correspondingly forward, eyes - well - spinning.
Someone's evidently still awake.

Lysseth> Ellora tightens her cloak about her, shifts the pack on her
shoulder, and steels her nerves. Dragons don't hurt people, she reminds
herself, then slowly makes her way toward the CraftHall. She gives each
glistening dragon a deferential nod, trying not to flinch as the looming
bronze eases forward.

"Well, how am I supposed t'best gauge which liquors are most effective if'n
I don't take notes about the reactions?" Kassi asks, a touch defensively.
"Though nay two reactions t'*that* stuff have ever been the same, so it
doesn't help a great deal." Looking back towards I'sai, she explains, "'Tis
one of the reasons we're here, is all. Knives, puzzles, and Maylia's
brother, who isn't here. You should try the cider," she then suggests, with
a flicked smile of thanks for the offer towards Jerous. "'Tis bloody good
here. They put cinnamon sticks in it."

Jerous says "I think I can find some more of that cider... would a bit of
food sit with anyone?"

K'ryo slides a little closer to Kassima, the awkwardness of his expression
belying the fact that any kind of smile from him, warm or otherwise, is
indeed a rare event. He tries to follow the conversation between the two
greenriders, but missing at least half of it in his haze. "Nah a good idea,
ya thhhink?" he drawls to Kassima.

Lysseth> Lysseth uncurls only enough to allow her head to lift, eyes still
half-closed and whirling the murky blue-green of drowsiness. The greyed
green spade of her tail-tip flicks, sending a small amount of slush flying.
Yes, it's snow. Come to think of it, her snow isn't very dry, either.
Mischief bids her flick the next lump of slush towards the lovebirds--will
it make them less sickening? A considering look is given Ellora. Maybe
*she* would like some slush to call her own.

"Good idea. Both. Please," I'sai decides. "Especially if it doesn't involve
fish, if you'll pardon my being picky," with a nod Loren's way. "Do knives,
puzzles, and Maylia's brother have anything at all in common? So far?"

Lysseth> Jaith gives the passing human a little notice as she passes. He's
currently curled up with Tierth, and it seems obvious that he rather likes
it, and doesn't want to disturb the green with excess movement.

Lysseth> Wide blue eyes grow even wider at the slush flinging, and Ellora
meeps quietly. Yes, the CraftHall looks even more inviting. She shuffles
through the snow... quickly.

Lysseth> Taralyth does still have that snow curled in one paw's talons,
light as chopsticks, does he not. He gives the pawful a light fling,
targeted to land behind the girl, ...whether or not he's accurate.

Jerous nods, wandering out

Jerous walks through the small door, into the kitchen.

"They're all either a smith, or made by them?" Maylia offers to I'sai by
way of explanation, altering wary looks at both the puzzle, and the
bluerider. "Still, you sound much like him." she mutters to Kassi. "More
cider would be nice, actually, and my thanks."

Loren waves to the rider, newly arrived. "Klah or Mulled cider?" he offers.

Lysseth> Ellora stops in her shuffling, whirling on the bronze with one
brow lifted. "I do believe you did that quite on purpose!" She sounds
indignant now, though she still keeps her distance. "That wasn't very nice
you know." Something about the clear signs of mischief in those whirling
eyes brings a bit of a smile to her face. "Good evening to all three of
you." She decides to leave it at that- it's getting cold out here!

Kassima pulls a piece of hide from her pocket and a charcoal stick, and
begins taking notes, studying K'ryo's expression a moment or two. "I...
don't know," she has to admit to the bluerider, tilting her head. "Nay
anyone's ever *asked* for more a'fore. Food would be lovely--oh, drat."
Yes, she managed to miss the young Crafter. "Ah, well, mayhaps he'll bring
enough for a few. Nice-seeming young man. The knives and Maylia's brother
have in common that we've nay been able t'find either, but we've puzzles
here. For m'children. Though May seems t'be enjoying them... sort of." May
gets a mildly dirty look.

Lysseth> Tierth turns blue whirling eyes to follow the girl as she walks
across the field, then back towards Taralyth. Seeing he's not aiming at her
and Jaith, she can hardly object, and instead simply snuggles closer.

Lysseth> Ellora heads through the ornate entrance into the Business Hall.

Ellora shuts the door tightly behind her as she walks into the lounge.

Jerous slips into the room from the kitchen.

I'sai asks hurriedly from his spot by the door, "What's his name, anyway?
The fellow who went after the ... cider would be perfect, yes, exa - didn't
you have enough of your own? knives, not brother - " he breaks off as
Ellora enters, sliding to the side.

Lysseth> Lysseth covers her muzzle with one slush-marred foreclaw, but this
does not do much to stifle the rumble of her draconic snickering. Flipping
the last slush from her wings, she settles back down... though not without
first discreetly gathering some snow towards her person. It wouldn't do to
be caught without ammunition at the ready.

Ellora ducks into the Lounge, giving one last stomp to clear the snow from
her boots. Obviously preoccupied, she glances over her shoulder, toward the
meadow as she slips off her heavy cloak. Slowly she turns toward the room,
noticing it is quite full, and a hint of a sheepish smile touches her lips.

Jerous strugles through the door, tray balanced on one hand, pitcher in the
other "I found some hard rolls, cheese, some fruit, and a few bubbly pies.
And a pitcher of cider, and some cinnamon sticks."

Loren places the puzzle pieces back together again and slips them into the
bag on the table then looks to the doorway and Ellora. "Smithcraft's
duties. I'm Loren."

Lysseth> Taralyth sniffs after the disappeared girl: surely she wouldn't
think he did it -accidentally-? and eases down to a near-crouch,
fastidiously keeping his belly short of the slush, and keeping his own
ammunition of a snowbank to one side. Even if he hasn't the good sense to
separate it out, first. ...And then, -then- he starts staring at Jaith.

Maylia's picked up the puzzle parts again, lower lip caught in
concentration. She misses the look the elder green rider sends her way, as
she does her best to fit the two parts /back/ together. Seems she's having
little more luck with this, than she had getting them apart before she
dropped them. Without lifting her eyes, she sends a smile somewhat in the
direction of the apprentice arriving with food and cider. "Marvelous! thank
you muchly." She's so preoccupied with this puzzle, she's totally forgotten
the manners she /should/ be displaying, which I'sai so marvelously
remembered. To ask his name.

"You can never have *enough* knives," Kassi immediately replies. "His
name... would you believe, I don't know? How appalling. Apprentice--" That
to Jerous. "If'n I may ask, what's your name?" Her eyes slide towards the
newcomer, and she bobs her head in greeting. "Duties t'you and yours,
lass... oh, my." Her attention has been caught by the food. "Thankee *most*
kindly. 'Twill have t'be saying only positive things about the hospitality
of the Smithcraft henceforth--nay that I ever said negative, you understand."

Ellora straightens a bit at the greeting, her eyes flickering to Loren.
"Telgar Hold's to you, sir. I am Ellora." Her lips curve into a friendly
smile, a bit lopsided. "Oh, and to you as well, dragonriders." She scans
the room, not sure who the riders are, but knowing they must be somewhere.

Jerous sets the pitcher down carefully, then the tray "Jr Appr Jerous, Ma'am."

"Telgar ...Hold. Jerous. That reminds me of something," I'sai says, even as
he hurries to 'help with the food,' otherwise known as raiding it. "I can't
think what. Serous? Serious? Well met in any event; I'm I'sai, Taralyth's.
If you could have only one knife - and I'm not granting the never-enough,
though it sounds good on first listening - what would it be like?"

Loren doesn't take any offense at the senior greenrider's comment, in fact
he's pleased. An approving smile to the Junior apprentice gets tossed.
"Very good, Jerous."

K'ryo slowly and unsteadily gets to his feet, shambling over towards
Kassima. "Whatsha writing...?" he asks, as one of his feet doesn't quite
cooperate, and he stumbles. The bluerider grabs the back of her eat for
extra support.

Ellora blinks as the bronzerider seems to address her, then goes on talking
to someone else. A puzzled light flickers through her eyes, and she decides
to head for Loren. As she nears, she catches a glimpse of his knots and she
inclines her head with considerable more respect. "Craftsecond Loren?"

Jerous looks thoughtfully at I'sai, then nods "'towd be a fettling knife,
about a hand or so long, a blade bought as wide as a finger."

Maylia's fiddling with the metal puzzle, producing a soft clink, clink,
clink, as she tries every angle possible to fit the two peices back
together, pauses for a moment as she shoots the newcommer a quick glance,
startled. "Elorra? Oh. Sorry, my appologies, I've a cousin who's named
similar. But she's much... older than I, so you'd not be she." Nice logic.
No wonder she's having trouble with the puzzles. "And I'sai, I'm sure you
do not want to know what kind of knife she'd prefer. Most men wouldn't."

Kassima winces. Visibly. "Please--nay ma'aming, *never* ma'aming. I am nay
a ma'am. You have t'be respectable t'be a ma'am, and I am certainly nay
that." Shifting so as to be able to direct the words towards both Jerous
and Ellora, she introduces herself as, "Kassima, green Lysseth's oil-slave,
currently affiliated with Telgar Weyr. Or just Kassi, if'n that's easier.
Well met t'you both." Blink. Blink. Dark green eyes go wide as tiny saucers
as she gapes at I'sai. "Only... *one*... knife? What an absolutely
monsterous idea!" Wine is reached for, and hurriedly sipped. Yes, let's
drown out that very thought right away. "'Twould be... sharp," she
eventually decides. "Long. Sharp. Balanced for throwing, a'course. A
blood-groove down the center if'n 'twouldn't damage the balance unduly; a
dragon for hilt and quillions, green, ruby eyes; double-edged blade, sharp
point... that's just the tip of the description, a'course." With a quiet
glack, she reaches to try and help steady the bluerider. "Notes on your
reaction to the Bottle," she admits. "For m'research. You don't mind, d'you?"

Ellora seems to have a bit of trouble following the greenrider's speech but
manages to recognize an introduction. She nods with a smile, and decides
that replying would be closer to interuppting, and lets it go. She just
gives Maylia a somewhat bewildered half smile. It's all a bit much at his
point it seems, and finally she just drops into a chair, setting her pack
at her feet.

Loren stands and whispers to Ellora. An exchange of words takes place,
ending with smiles. He turns to the others. "PLease escuse me. I have some
other hall things to look into. Please stay as long as you like and enjoy
our hospitality.

Maylia blinks in suprise, as the two parts of the puzzle slip together. "I
did it!" She nearly shouts in triumph, then gulps, wide-eyed shushing
herself. "Oh. Sorry. Maylia, green Tierth's. And I'sai, I'd advise you
don't try that."

I'sai starts at K'ryo's reaction, retreating back behind his weyrlingmaster
and her puzzle - as much as he can manage - with roll and cheese, cheese,
cheese; "But, Maylia, that didn't sound bad at all. Comparatively. What's a
fettling knife, what do you do with it, what's it shaped like? If it's only
a hand-length, that doesn't sound so long, not like what Kassima was
describing. Huh." He pauses to convert some rolls to crumbs, then wipes off
his shirt, "Do you have any knives like that already, and if not, why not?
Seems like throwing something too long would just get in the - Craftsecond.
Thanks." He stops short of another bite, "Uh, try what? And why?"

Lysseth> Jaith does manage to catch Taralyth's gaze. He does his best to
ignore it, being the runner-up to the bronze in many recent flights. His
tail-stroking does become more affectionate, as he also tries to curl his
neck in hers a little more.

Loren strides across to the doors and stops to give a wave.

A soft chuckle is hidden behind Ellora's hand as all the dragonriders seem
to ramble at once. She smiles gratefully at the Craftsecond then manages to
focus on Maylia. "Well met Maylia." She sighs softly, slowly thawing and
feeling a bit more comfortable.

Loren lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind him.

Jerous blinks ... a number of times... trying to sort out all that I'sai
said.. "A fettling knife is used to cut clay...to make ceramics..." shrugs
"I've not had much need for a knife otherwise...: grins "'cept to cut dinner."

Lysseth> What with that tail-stroking, not to mention that -neck- ...
Taralyth leans forward. Just a little. More an intimation of movement than
any actual step; likewise, innermost lids nictate down over those
diamondine eyes, but briefly so, no more than a blink.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "All right. What's with the New Year?"

Maylia manages to murmur appropriate goodnight wishes to Loren as he heads
out, then rolls her eyes. "Well, that was hardly the knife I'd've expected
you to suggest, mentor-mine." She seems quite used to the multi-directional
banter, and quickly nods towards a crumpled heap that is an unconcious lad
in the corner. "Balfur tried some, look what it did to him. Kao's not that
much better, I'm sure, for all he puts on a good front. And what in
Faranth's name does your blue think he's doing with Tierth, K'ryo?"

Telgar Weyr> J'raen plugs everything back in. "Any better?"

I'sai just - smiles, all of a sudden. And then he checks quickly, "Tried
some of what, though? Not the cider, I hope, though I've only had a sip of
mine - it was hot, and all."

I'sai follows up, then, "Is the clay before or after you, uh, made it hard?
In the fire, or whatever you do?"

Kassima helps herself to cheese, fruit, and a roll; someone must have
missed dinner. "Your specialty is ceramics, then?" she inquires of Jerous.
"Pretty things, sometimes. Though I have t'be admitting, I don't think I've
aught of that nature. Too much chance the 'lizards or spawnlings would
break it; bad enough t'have glass about. What d'you mean, May? If'n I could
only have one knife, I'd nay suggest a castrating-knife. I can use the
*Emasculator* for that." Shouldn't a chilling chord sound whenever she says
that word? "I likely have at least one with most of those qualities. But
then, I've enough knives t'turn a bovine to a pincushion. Maylia's talking
about m'brewed liquor... I'm taking notes on the reactions to it, y'see.
Quite exciting. It's never made anyone *pass out* a'fore."

Lysseth> Tierth willingly twines necks with Jaith, thoug she seems perhaps
a little bit distracted. Or... not exactly. Just somewhere between eagerly
anticipating his every move, and merely allowing the attention.

Telgar Weyr> <I'sai> *fzzt* ....Uhoh.

Lysseth> Lysseth extends a wing and wraps it around, the better to use it
to cover her eyes with. Oh, groan.

Telgar Weyr> J'raen giggles, and scoots.

Ellora's eyes drift to the food and the steaming mugs scattered about and
she tries to catch Jerous' eye.

Jerous says "Its before you fire it, when your cutting it into shapes...
Say I wanted to make a puzzle map of..a dragon..I'd roll out the clay, then
draw on the dragon, then cut it into peices, and fire them. Then the puzzle
is to put the pieces back to gether ot make the draggon again" blushes
slightly "sorry, didn't mean ta run on..."

K'ryo seems pretty amenable to just about anything right now.
"No'a'tall..." he slurs together. His sways uneasily at this standing
height, and slowly lowers himself to his knees beside Kassima's seat, with
far less grace than usual. He seems about to whisper something to her, when
he hears his name and turns to its source, blinking through the fog at that
distance a couple of times. "Whu--? He focuses on the question a couple of
seconds before it sinks in. And then he closes his eyes to find out.
"Keepn'er warm, hesez, Mayl--May--May-lee-uh," he finally enunciates.

I'sai points out, shoulders ducked -away- from enmasculator-mentions, "We
asked you, Jerous, and everyone around here runs on, at the mouth at least,
excepting K'ryo. I think. I'm glad to say I don't know about in private. So
why would you ... is that another thing for the littles? And that girl's
trying to get your attention, I think, and she hasn't said whether -she-
might have a knife, so... jays, K'ryo. How much did you -drink-?"

Maylia returns the metal puzzle she'd been toying with to the sack, notably
not reaching for a second. K'ryo's regarded with quite some ammount of
humour, as the man seems to have difficulty pronouncing her name. "See,
I'sai?" She asks the young bronzer.

Jerous oppses "Sorry, please help yourself to the food...can I pour you a
cider, some wine...or some klah?"

Lysseth> Taralyth's talons curl, even if it is into that cold, cold snow,
and he flips his own wings tidily back against his haunches. So there.

Jerous says "Ellora, wasn't it?" as he points at the food..."

I'sai sits down by Maylia, should there be room, and shuts up, and does
some staring at K'ryo of his own. Oh, and there's a nod in there, too:
lesson -taken-.

Kassima perks up, however. "You could do that? Make dragon-shaped puzzles?
How much would it cost t'be commissioning three of those?" Relieved, she
nods to K'ryo and flashes a smile. "Thankee for that. 'Tis very vital t'my
brewing, this research. Um... are you all right, though?" Reaching for the
empty vial, wherever it is, and assuming it's not being held by anyone at
the moment, she holds it up to display. "That much only." It's a small,
thin vial. The sort of thing that could be stashed in a jacket. "But it
packs a *wee* bit of a punch, that stuff. Try the cider," she advises
Ellora brightly. "Very good stuff. D'you want t'try this liquor, I'sai?
I've another vial, minus a sip. Balfur drank that." She nods towards the
comatose young man on the floor.

Ellora wonders if all of this multi-directional talking might have
something to do with having someone else's voice in your head all the time.
Hearing Jerous' voice she glances up, smiling that lopsided smile she has.
"Actually, some cider would be wonderful, but I can get it if you just
point the way." She glances then at the bronzerider. "And no, no knife
here." She returns her attention to Jerous. "Ellora it is, and youa re
Jerous, yes? Thank you."

Lysseth> A low, contented croon emanates from the blue. He's not young,
he's not dumb, he has plenty of experience. If it only be moments more,
then he'll be sure to savour it all to the last second. He continues giving
Tierth all the warmth and affection he can muster.

Jerous nods, pouring and handing her a mug of hot cider, two sticks of
cinnamon pokign out of the top "Jerous it is, well met Ellora"

Lysseth> Lysseth rumblemutters what are surely dire imprecations in
dragon-speak, rolling abruptly onto her back where she can better bury her
head in the snow and not have to be witness to this. And if that means that
she presents a ludicrous spectacle, wings splayed out and claws pointing
towards the sky, well, so be it.

Maylia also nodded to Kassi's mention of the Emasculator, without the
shudder it produces in most males. "Still, I'd've thought you'd've wanted
something along those lines. Me, I'll settle for a good, well balanced set
of throwing knives, nothing fancy." Indeed, there is room near her for
I'sai to sit, and the Weyrlingmaster turns a smile of undeteremined quality
on her former charge. "Of course, if you're curious, feel free to try some.
Ellora, please, there's more food than we can possibly all eat, unless the
dragons assist. Help yourself." Again, her speil takes off in several
directions at once.

Ellora receives the mug gratefully, wrapping her hands around it's warmth.
"Mmm, it smells wonderful. My thanks again, and well met, yes... Jerous."
She nods to him once more before taking a careful sip. She obediently
reaches for a roll at Maylia's words, grinning as she manages to follow the
conversation this time. "Thank you."

I'sai, now seated, says a bright, "Thank you." He pauses to nibble the
remaining crumbs off his plate, than reaches vial-ward, "Just a little, I'm
sure. No knives, eh. And from Telgar Hold? ...Hmm. I didn't know you threw
knives, Maylia."

Jerous smiles at Ellora "My pleasuyre" then turns to Maylia innocently "Um,
Ma'am, what do you need to through knives at?"

Ellora shakes her head in I'sai's direction. "No knives. Not with me
anyhow." Her words are cut off by a yawn which she tries to conceal behind
her mug. "Mmm... pardon me." She glances around for a moment, then asks
Jerous, "Craftmaster Loren told me I could stay in the Apprentice Dorms...
how might I get there?"

Jerous smiles at Ellora "If you've a moment, I'd be glad to walk you out
myself."

Lysseth> Taralyth's neckridges bristle the least bit, possessive - but
even-tempered beast that he usually is, well. Distractions are
distractions, and play is play, and he just so happens to discard his
clawsful of snow. In an arc. Aimed toward a certain upside-down belly.
Since it's there, and all. And if a few extra bits happen to slide toward
Jaith's paws as well... no complaints from him.

Ellora nods, taking a long drink from her mug. "Ah, can I take this with
me?" She lfts the mug as she says this, gathering up her pack with her free
hand.

"Indeed I do," Maylia inclines her head towards I'sai. "Targets," is her
answer for Jerous. "Mostly. Though I started with snowmen, as a candidate
at Benden, thanks to Kassi here. They bleed nicely when you include skins
of Tillek swi.. er.. wine. Well met, then, Ellora. And best of luck here at
the Hall, watch out for my young brother, Marrel. New here, and likely to
spend more time pranking than anything else."

Kassima produces the vial still containing liquor from within her jacket,
passing it over with a disconcertingly bright grin. It's not often she has
*three* subjects to study. "Didn't you have a set, May? Did something
happen to it, or did you just want more? She's very good at throwing
knives. Taught her m'self," she explains, with some pride.

"You waste -wine-?" still-teenaged I'sai bleats, managing only a distracted
nod to poor Ellora; and then, well. Experiment time. He resettles into
uncapping the vial with judicious care, and slowly - cautiously - tipping
three small drops onto his plate. And then he starts rummaging in a beltpouch.

Lysseth> Lysseth gives a strangled yelp--an odd, and loud, sound when
coming from a dragon's throat. That's *cold*! And never mind that she
already had slush on her belly; she wasn't *expecting* more. Her tail whips
out to attempt to send a lump of the white stuff towards the offending
bronze, though given her perspective, who knows how good her aim is?

K'ryo sighs as he sees the vial move out of his now-shortened visual range.

Lysseth> Jaith does see what is beginning to transpire, and unfolds a
protective wing over Tierth's torso -- just in case.

Maylia snorts at kassima. "You and T'saren together," She amends. "Indeed,
I've a set or two, now. But one can never have to many. And each smith
makes them a little different. They... move, differently." At I'sai's
panic-y sounding querey, she patiently shakes her head. "That stuff barely
counts as wine, lad, when you're at Benden. Kao, you still alright, there?"

Lysseth> Tierth quite willingly uses the protection of Jaith's wing.
Really, she's little interest in getting smoooshed with slush.

"Nay, nay wine," Kassi hastens to assure. "Swill. Tillek Swill. Definite
difference. Oh, aye, g'deve and g'luck, Ellora--" She waves her free hand
to the young woman. "A pleasure t'be meeting you. Don't worry, K'ryo; you
can have the rest, all right? What in Faranth's name are you doing?" That's
directed towards I'sai and his plate; she's curious. "Well, aye, true. He
helped. You should try and get G'har t'make you some, May; he does a bloody
good job, or did, as an Apprentice."

"...Well, I did win that skin of good Benden," I'sai admits somewhat
smugly, "But still." Oh, yeah, he caps the vial, too; but next, next comes
flint and tinder, and a laughing-eyed glance up at Kassima. "...Unless
you've already done this?"

Jerous says "Maylia, do you need anythign else? I need to walk Ellora to
the dorm, and I've got appr classes in the morn, should head off to my cot..."

I'sai's fair head tilts up long enough that he can smile Jerous' way.
Flick, goes the flint. Flick-flick. "Thanks much for the cider. Don't, uh,
run into any snow on your way out?"

Comprehension dawns on Kassi's face as the flint and tinder arrive. "Nay
since the time the stuff blew up when I did it," she admits cheerily,
"which is why Marcus is afraid of me, poor man. I *tried* t'be telling him
'twasn't on purpose, y'know. G'deve, Apprentice Jerous--as I'sai says,
thankee kindly for the service."

K'ryo leans in closer to Kassima... it's unsure whether it was a completely
off-balance reaction, or whether a hint of intent is also there. He
attempts to blink away more of the fog clouding his vision and his brain,
with little effect. "Ssss'good shtuff, Kashhima..."

Lysseth> It seems Jaith's wing - such a nice target - can wait; Taralyth's
distracted, trying to duck, only there's too much for him to... and now his
dark muzzle swings around to inspect the drizzle of melting, mostly-white
stuff sliding down his left forequarter. Cold. Messy. Hm.

Jerous smiles "My pleasure" turns to Elorra "The dorms are this way" leads
the way to the business hall

Ellora follows gratefully.

Ellora lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind her.

Jerous lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind him.

Maylia's head shakes, at Jerous' question. No, and my thanks, Jerous. We're
fine, I believe.

Lysseth> Insert evil chortling here. Lysseth is quite pleased with herself
and her snow-laden revenge, and if a rumble can be wicked, hers is so.
Angling her head to be able to keep an eye on the whitened bronze, she
flicks her tail perilously near another mound of white. There's more where
that came from, you'd better believe it.

"Oh, all right," I'sai says agreeably, and slides the vial away from the
plate and the plate towards the center of the table, into relative safety.
Keeping only one long shred of wood, he sparks the flint again, and -
there, it's caught, a pinprick of flame. "How much did you use for the
blowing up?" he asks just before poking said flame at the few, feeble drops.

Maylia glances up as the pair leave, and voices filter into the lounge from
the Hall outside. "That's Marrel," She exclaims. With little more
explanation, the Weyrlingmaster's up and striding out.

All right, now Kassi is ever so slightly nonplussed. Not nonplussed enough
to forego taking notes, but still, nonplussed. And she very aptly
demonstrates the limited power of Kassilogic by offering the rescued vial
to K'ryo. A promise is a promise. "About a glass," she answers I'sai. "Or
'twas a glass, when I started. Then 'twasn't a glass anymore. Just
fragments and melted bits, and a big fireball that singed off Marcus's
eyebrows. His fault for standing so close--regards to him, May!" she breaks
to call after the Weyrlingmaster.

Lysseth> Jerous emerges from the ornate door of the business hall.

Lysseth> Ellora emerges from the ornate door of the business hall.

Lysseth> Jerous nods, grinning "It was a bit much for me also..." shakes
his head, grinnnign "they sure do talk alot."

Maylia lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind her.

Lysseth> Ellora shuffles through the snow at Jerous' side. "Indeed they do.
I am quite a talker, but I couldn't keep up!" She grins, then fights the
urge to stop as they near the dragons. She subconsciously sidles a bit
closer to Jerous, glancing away from the huge shapes in the darkness.

I'sai ducks away from an eyebrows-singeing of his own, eyeing the results
with a decided degree of pleasure - even if Maylia did disappear, and so
quickly. "...Mmm. This has promise. So somewhere between just this, and a
full glass, you say."

Lysseth> Taralyth's caught again, this time with a refill of snow in paw,
which he holds like some stone sculpture. As soon as they're gone, now -

K'ryo peers around. Hey, there are fewer indistinct forms in this room than
a few moments ago. What gives?

Lysseth> Jerous glances up "they are...imposing, aren't they" hmmss "that
green one...I 'met' her at the weyr a few days ago..."

Lysseth> Lysseth can't waggle her eyeridges, or she would. Instead, she
settles for waggling a wingtip. It may be noticeable that she is sprawled
upside-down in the snow like a large, demented fire-lizard.

Lysseth> Ellora nods, taking a deep breath. "To say the least. I've never
seen them up close. The bronze threw slush at me!" She sounds torn between
being amused and indignant at this. "Are they having a snowball fight?!?"

Lysseth> Jaith is simply protectively snuggling with the other green,
Tierth, keeping her warm and snowball free.

Lysseth> Jerous shakes his head laughing "'twod appear taht way."

Lysseth> A bit of a frown crosses Ellora's forehead and she lifts a brow
quizzically. "I somehow thought they were more dignified... or something."
She grins in Jerous' direction. "Curiouser and curiouser... things here at
the Craft are not dull at least, mmm?

"Thereabouts," Kassima allows, leaning in despite herself to watch the
experiment in action--albeit not, it must be noted, close enough to risk
any part of her person. "A'course, leave it alone long enough and 'twill
explode spontaneously. One reason I like t'offer it t'people when I have
some. The sooner 'tis drunk, the sooner I don't have t'worry about random
acts of fire."

Lysseth> Taralyth plays frozen shadow. Would he throw slush? Would he move?
...All right, so single-lidded eyes spark brilliant blue, focusing on them
as they pass for all that his head doesn't quite turn.

I'sai taps lightly on the plate; no fine china, it may not 'ting,' but
seems not to have cracked. "Any more? And... I suppose it would be
dangerous to hold anything lit close to the mouth of anyone who'd drunk any
of it..." though he does give K'ryo quite the speculative glance.

"Any more? Well... 'twould guess he's nay going t'drink the rest of it,"
Kassima observes, peering at the ostensibly-sleeping K'ryo. "Mayhaps
'twould allow someone t'be breathing fire? *That* would be an adventure."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snugs a Ryi, and Admires That Status. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla grins at Kassi. You missed the RP that brought it
about. Pity I didn't log it. And hello, I'sai.

"Why should dragons have all the fun," I'sai drily rejoins. "...But. Well.
Actually, I was wondering how long it would take... say, if someone made a
smear of the stuff in a shape across the plate, a curving line, say,
...would it pretty much all light up at once, or would you actually see it
moving along the line like a falling hold of cards?"

Kassima agrees with utmost serenity, "M'point precisely." Tilting her head,
she leans forward to consider the plate with due gravity. "'Twould think
that you could see it move *if'n* your eyes were quick. It wouldn't take
long t'go; there's White Lightning--nigh-pure alcohol--in with the rest of
it. Still, d'you wish t'be testing it?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima ohdears at Ryi. Dare I even inquire?

I'sai tips it enough that she might have a little better view, though not
so much as to actually relinquish the potential test arena; "Why not?
Although, maybe on something stronger. And not to say my eyes aren't quick,
but - might be nicer to have something to slow it down, somehow. Make it
last longer... What -is- the rest of it, anyway?"

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla grins at Kassi. It was a /good/ proddy, Kassi.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "Entertaining, surely."

Lysseth> Pliarth spirals down and lands carefully on the meadow.

Lysseth> Pliarth warbles a greeting as she lands.

Lysseth> Ryialla quickly slides down Pliarth's foreleg and jumps to the
ground. She turns to pet Pliarth's muzzle and grins as she gets soundly
whuffled.

Lysseth> Ryialla pauses, removing a satchel from Pliarth's side. She heads
off towards the business hall, returning a short while later empty-handed.
Only then does she head towards the dining hall, whistling happily.

Lysseth> Ryialla enters the dining hall.

Lysseth> Taralyth, by now unfrozen from his heretofore statute-like
position, sets down his paw - and its snow? what snow? - and, headknobs
pricked in interest, returns his Pliarth's greeting with quite the
congenial warble of his own. Just us and the slush.

"How would that be managed?" Kassima wants to know. "Could it be poured
over something inflammable? Sand, say? I don't really know how such things
work; 'twas never any sort of chemist." She considers the question, and
abruptly laughs. "D'you know, I don't know? I've never asked. I based the
original mixture purely on trying t'get a pretty color, and ever since,
I've just referred to the ingrediants by color rather than asking the
names. I've a feeling if'n I knew what was in it, 'twould nay be able
t'drink it."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima oohs, you had a flight, yay! :) Who won?

Ryialla slips into the room from the kitchen.

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla grins. The future father of my child did. :)

Ryialla whistles happily as she slips through the door leading into the
lounge.

Lysseth> Lysseth warbles a greeting to Pliarth. Or ostensibly to Pliarth.
It's really hard to tell who the greeting is directed to when the greeter
is, yes, still sprawled on her back in the slush like a particularly
mindless 'lizard at play. She's at least managed to shake most of the snow
from her belly somewhere along the way.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Oh, dear Faranth preserve us. Pregnant Ryi?
Hello, travel agent? I'd like to book a ticket to the Red Star, please.
One-way, not round-trip. ;)"

"Perhaps a long strand of yarn - or one of those shirt-lacings, the
firelizard-chewed kind," I'sai's supposing, a fairly innocuous plate
between Kassima and himself. "To slow it down, but keep it going. Hmm. Hmm.
Never did look at the color myself; -is- it good? And now the rest is
gone..." He does glance up at the whistling, with a furtive tug at the
plate-evidence before he identifies his wingmate.

Lysseth> Pliarth immediately sticks her snout into a small patch of
remaining fluffy white stuff, and snorts happily - sending it flying
everywhere.

Lysseth> Taralyth turns, eyeing himself. At least it's more-or-less even,
this time, instead of one great sodden lump: more like freckles, in short.
Or the pox.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "What, no pity for the father-to-be first? ;) I
figure, though, it's character-building."

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla grins at I'sai. I've no sympathy for you, Dad. Well. I
might once if you actually attend the birth.. :)

Kassima allows, "If'n the yarn were soaked in the stuff... 'twould have
t'be done somewhere safe from becoming a giant torch, though, in case the
fire should get out of control somehow. *I* rather like the color--blue and
green, a bit translucent, with a touch of gold swirling through. Pretty.
Lethal, but pretty." Following that upward glance, she grins and waves over
to her friend. "Ryi, heyla! Don't tell me you're after knives, too?"

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "Oh, all right. ;) Yes, this is going to be - is-
_fun_."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima has spawned three times, and thus has no sympathy left
for father-figures at all. ;) Though amazingly, T'lar, Jh'rin, and E'vrin
did all escape with their relevant bits intact. Hands a bit damaged, though.

Lysseth> Lysseth cranes her head up to simply peer at herself. Hello? Did
she ask to become the draconic answer to a roan? Though the snow probably
isn't *that* thick. Here, Pliarth; have some slush in thanks for that fine
gift.

I'sai contributes, relaxing subtly upon seeing it's her, "I had nothing to
do with knives, originally, but since she mentioned it... so, how do you
get the colors to keep from mixing altogether? And it's not -real- gold, is
it?"

Ryialla beams widely as she spots familiar people, and goes over to punch
Kassi in the arm in what is, for Ryi, an unusual show of affection. "Kassi!
Heyla!" I'sai is subjected to the same treatment - at least she's not
hugging people. "And no, I had to drop letters. M'last errand for the day,
though, so I figured I'd come and get some klah. Heyla, I'sai. Knives, huh?"

I'sai feints a slug back, though it only comes close, "...Mm-hmm. Do you
have lots? And if you could have only one, what would it be like?"

Lysseth> Pliarth cranes her head, admiring her hide. White would go better
with green, normally. But her hide's so pale, the darker slush provides a
nice contrast. She rumbles approvingly to Lysseth.

"*Oh*, nay. That'd be toxic. I just use Nabolese firewater--I do know what
the gold stuff is; M'kla told me once. I use strong colors of blue and
green t'be getting it t'mix into that nice blue-green, and the clear
dilutes; the gold really only shows when 'tis first mixed. After that, it
blends in with the rest. Still pretty, though. Yow!" The greenrider rubs
her arm, giving Ryi a vaguely bewildered look. "Good t'be seeing you, too.
Klah's on the table--might be a bit lukewarm by now, though. The cheese and
rolls are good. Aye; came here first looking for May's brother, then
knives, then puzzles for the spawnlets. Only found the puzzles, but I got a
whole sackful." The sack in question is hefted to show.

Lysseth> Taralyth stares; and his tail flicks this way, that way, evidently
not yet privy to the fashion of such things.

Lysseth> Lysseth may be female, but fashion is not her forte either, let's
face it. She warbles a bemused-sounding 'welcome' to Pliarth, finally
roll-roll-rolling back to her proper side to curl back up amidst the grey.
Of course, slush now absolutely covers her back, wings, etcetera, but so
grey-tinged was her hide already that it's a small enough change.

Ryialla nods, patting her side where her own belt knife rests - the sheath
blending in with the leathers, so it's harder to spot. "Aye, a few. Could
always use more - I've a couple that are worn to a fare-thee-well." She
settles into a spot, pouring a mug of klah, and grabbing a hearty portion
of cheese and rolls. "Mm. I'm /starving/. Puzzles?" She peers at the bag.
"By Faranth, Kassi, that's a /lot/ of puzzles. Are they going to use them
all? And I didn't hit you that hard." She didn't, either. Just enough to
confuse you. She's good at that.

"M'klah, eh," I'sai muses, pale eyes the least bit secretive; "...And aye,
I mean, -yeah-, the cheese was good. Down to the crumbs. Well, so, all
right, what kind of knife would you like for your 'one more'? Maylia wanted
a set to throw; Kassima here had all sorts of requirements if she had a
one-and-only; K'ryo just, uh. I don't think he had much to say."

Kassima explains, brightly, "Kris likes puzzles, and even Khari might like
these, though she's nay quite as into such things as he. 'Twill tell you
for naught, Ryi: the lad may be quiet, but 'twould wager on him proving
t'be brilliant someday." Not that she's *biased* about her lastborn or
anything. "Mmm-hmm. She knew a fair amount about liquor, that lady--and
about brewing. She left me her klah recipe." Reminiscent for a moment, her
tone turns slightly mischievous at the last; is mention of the klah recipe
just an idle fact, or a threat of some kind? "K'ryo and Balfur drank What's
In the Bottle," she then explains for Ryi's benefit, "so they're now
comatose. K'ryo drank a whole *vial* of the stuff. I'm amazed that he lived."

I'sai, missing the backstory, not only doesn't catch on the recipe mention
but inserts a quiet, "It's not so big a bottle, really, only a little
thing. But it -does- light things up real good."

Ryialla mms. "K'ryo doesn't usually have much to say - having a
conversation with him sometimes is like pulling teeth - although was this
before or after drinking 'What's in the Bottle'?" A blink. "Whole vial, you
said?" She munches on whatever she's actually managed to scrounge, and
washes it down with a goodly portion of the lukewarm klah. Even lukewarm,
it's good. "And you're lucky, Kassi. At least that recipe'll be around for
future use - unless you plan on hoarding it. Which you'd better not be,
because that stuff's too good to not be introduced to future generations."
Yes. Ryi /likes/ 'M'klah'. "I've got a set of matched throwing knives
already - plain handled, but good blades. I think, if I got just a single
one though, I'm currently leaning towards something ornamental, but
useable. Most of what I've got isn't decorated at all. But I don't want
anything too ostentateous..."

Lysseth> Pliarth settles in, then, with one last rumble to the others. And,
as is usual, she falls right asleep. This is a very lazy dragon.

I'sai mutters agreement at the pulling teeth reference, adding, "After - I
didn't actually see him do it," partway through. "What's the point of klah,
other than it being klah, anyway? And -throwing- knives - just chops up a
good table. Or wall. Or whatever. And... what was the other thing; oh,
yeah, decoration. Don't want glass fake-stones to jab your hand, I'd guess."

Kassima holds up her hands placatingly. "'Twill pass it on, Ryi. Though I'm
nay certain which of the lasses will get it yet. Kaylira's wicked enough,
but she hasn't shown much interest in aught like brewing or cooking or
such; Khari could probably manage the recipe, but wouldn't have the
interest. A bit of a poser. But they're young yet." Kassi, herself, is
making due with a bottle of wine, bread, and fruit. Yes, she's still
eating. She's hungry. "Couldn't let the recipe go--'tis too much use when
one's proddy, hey? So what would *your* single knife be, I'sai?"

"When one's - " I'sai stops repeating, -right- there. "Ah, no idea. That's
part of why I was asking, see; I mean, the one belt-knife seems to work
just fine, whether it's cutting rope or cutting bread, so long as it's
cleaned in between?"

"Proddy," Kassima helpfully repeats. "At least, for me 'tis. Lysseth's a
bit of a pain; won't let me sleep, so, klah. Which I don't normally drink.
But I figure what sicknesses the wine doesn't kill off in the raw meat, the
klah will, so all's well." She tsks lightly at this assessment, shaking her
head. "'Twill never understand how some folk can think that of knives. They
have all *sorts* of uses. Nay the least of which is that you can win all
sorts of wagers and prizes in contests with 'em."

"If you're good and don't just think you are, anyway," I'sai speculates.
"Or ... this is -normal- klah, isn't it? Not like the really slaggy Smith
klah? ...I'd say no-offense, but even were someone listening, I think they
think it's a compliment, so. Knife-throwing, huh. And you're pretty good.
Both of you?"

Ryialla shakes her head. "Nay, I'sai. That much use for one instrument
wears it down fast - and even if you keep it sharp, you won't get as much
life out of it, because every time you sharpen it, you lose more blade.
Besides, there's something nice about having a keen blade that you can coax
whisper-thin slices of cheese or bread or meat from: it all seems to taste
better when there's only a hint of it there, rather than a whole chunk.
Although there's times I prefer chunks, as well. For instance.." She pulls
out the belt knife, and lays it at her side. "This is a good, all purpose,
rope sort of knife. It's really too big and unwieldy to use for something
like cheese cutting." Reaching into the inside of her jacket, and pulls out
a smaller, eating knife - honed more than the belt knife. "This is simply
for food." She grabs a hunk of bread and cuts a thin slice away from it,
for demonstration purposes. "Chunk or slice, it works well. Now, this..."
She reaches into the other jacket pocket and pulls out a nicely balanced
throwing knife. "Is good for wagers and contests, like Kassi said. Your own
set of throwing knives and much practice with them work wonders." Finally,
she pulls one out of a for just in case." It's wickedly sharp, and sets in
a special sheath on the inside of her booth. "And Faranth help me if I ever
have to use it for the purpose it's meant for. I'm a decent knife-fighter,
but I dislike it immensely." Ryi's set of hardware is then slipped away,
all in its respective places.

Kassima lifts first one brow, then the other; then sweeps both downwards
just so she can raise them again in unison. "*Normal* klah? I'sai, 'tis
truly criminal that you've nay idea of the Legend of M'kla's Klah. Its evil
is profound, its casualties many--only Flirk's is more perilous, and that
by slim margin. Sadly, I can nay longer joke about what's in the stuff lest
people think I'm giving away the *actual* ingrediants, which I'm sworn
never t'do save on m'deathbed and all that rot." Watching Ryi's weaponry
demo with interest, she remarks, "Four... nay bad. I thank Faranth I've
never fought a person yet with mine. Though during the renegade episode
back home, it did come close to that. I am very good," she then answers
I'sai, quite frankly. "Which is more a credit to the teaching of m'cousins
than aught else. Da taught me knife-fighting, but I'm nay as handy with that."

I'sai out-and-out stares: one, two, ...three, four, and once the survey's
done, he breathes an admiring, "...Faranth's pointy headknobs." And then
he's quite, quite quiet till Kassi's done, at which point he cuts to the
chase, pale eyes sharpened ever so bright: "No idea about the stuff. Klah,
that is. But the knife-throwing: would you teach me?"

Ryialla corrects, "Eight - I've the small set of throwing daggers in here.
Haven't taken them out from the Winter Festival yet."

I'sai's fair head turns. And then he asks, tenor hushed nearly to a
whisper, "Uh, Ryi, you weren't wearing -all- of those the other... well,
the other time; were you?"

Ryialla shakes her head, and says, "Only the three. All purpose, eating,
and instead of the boot, I've a lovely one that straps to m'leg." She pats
her upper thigh. "Slit in m'dresses lets me get that one, when needed."

"...Really," I'sai says, no more loudly than before; and then there's a
little shuffling under the table.

"Ahhhh." Kassi sounds pleased. "Eight, now *that's* respectable. Very
good." An amused look is tendered I'sai before she dips her chin once.
"'Twould, certes. Methinks 'twould nay even charge you; a bronzer wanting
t'be learning is too much of a novelty for that. Just be glad Ryi doesn't
wear a dozen or so knives outright plus an Emasculator when she's proddy.
I've heard some greenriders do."

Ryialla asides, to Kassi, "Oh - I saw a lovely set of th' knives that you
can wear in long hair, like those decorative sticks? Could nae ever afford
them, because they're meant to be worn at Gathers and the like and they
were /very/ fancy, but I thought of you when I saw them." A grin, then.
"I've done that, in the past. Without the Emasculator. It was the Turn
Pliarth and Lysseth went up one right after the other in short order.
Although I think it was the other way around."

"Surprised they don't trip over them," I'sai says absently, even while he's
studying the two dark-haired women, the very tips of his ears touched with
red: "That is ... Thank you. I'd appreciate that. The lessons. Well, and
your refraining, Ryialla... Kassima, what would I need ahead of time? And
that bit - about bronzes - is that just, uh, ...something flip to say, or
d'you really think that's the way it is?"

Kassima shakes her head, waggling a finger. "Nay, nay, you had it right the
first time; I recall it, since it meant I actually got to escape the Weyr
and go be proddy somewhere else. I went t'Boll and got spectacularly drunk.
Railed at the ocean for a bit, methinks. Held a deep and meaningful
conversation with seaweed. 'Twas one of the better times I've had, proddy."
What this says about the rest of her proddytime is probably best left
vague. "Truly told, Ryi? Where'd you see them? I've a good chunk of marks
saved away after the pink lace fiasco and respective wagers; I could
probably afford 'em. Though I probably should give up on wearing fancy
clothes t'Gathers by now." Leaning back on the couch, she mulls this over
for a moment. "Naught, I shouldn't think. I've some practice-quality knives
you can borrow, and for the first lesson or two, all 'twill need are rocks.
Flip--well, 'twasn't meant that way. I can't say I've had many bronzers ask
me for lessons, though. Greenriders, aye, and Candidates sometimes;
residents now and then, and blue and brownriders from time t'time. But
rarely bronzers." An abrupt grin. "They probably think 'twould stick a
knife in them while teaching for some odd reason."

Ryialla sniffs. "Ego," she proclaims. "Too many bronzers have at least some
amount of ego, an' therefore even if they don't know, can't really ask for
th' help to learn. Not to mention," she grins," Kassi's fair intimidating.
Which is a good thing. And it was Smithcraft - had th' wagon there. And it
was there, plain as day. You'll probably be able to find them if you ask
around, unless they were sold after I left. Could probably get a pair
commissioned - they've even got decorative sheaths, so you don't
inadvertantly chop your hair off. Can I watch? It's been ages since I've
sat in on a lesson anyone's taught. Maybe I'll pick up a pointer or two I'd
not thought about before."

I'sai's expression mutates here and there - something about the eyebrows
and the set of his mouth, particularly for mentions of Boll, of seaweed, of
pink lace - but at length he settles into a relatively grave, "I'd
appreciate it if you wouldn't, all things considered. Stick in the knife,
that is. I can't think of anything I especially want cut off, aside from my
hair still needing a trim... and of lending the practice-quality, that's
great too, and I'd guess the rocks don't need to be so special?" He hitches
a shoulder, then, a brief gesture; and not to imply she's not intimidating
- "I don't mind the watching, I guess, so long as it's not -everyone-? Call
it a ...little bit of pride. Or ego. Whichever. But you'd be fine, Ryi;
might even like that."

Kassima snorts an amused agreement with that assessment. "Could be. Could
be, at that. 'Twill have t'be asking after 'em next time I'm here...
mayhaps get some t'go with the new leathers Weavercraft's promised me. I'll
need t'be going for a measuring for those soon enough, come t'think on it."
Picking up a breadroll, she tosses it idly from hand to hand. "Doesn't
bother me if'n you watch, Ryi. But aye, a large crowd wouldn't suit. Too
distracting. 'Tis nay a good thing t'be distracted when throwing knives
about, and it does take practice ere you can ignore people sufficiently
t'do well in a chattery setting. I solemnly swear that 'twill nay knife
you, I'sai, if'n that makes you feel better? I haven't actually knifed a
malerider yet. And if'n I ever *do*, 'twill be Mart ere anyone else, so
there's naught t'worry about."

I'sai says just as gravely as before, for all that those light eyes now
gleam like suncaught ice, "That -is- reassuring. Thank you. Both tossing
out the crowds," not that -he- chatters, oh no, "and the, well, the rest.
Not that I don't - well, he's our wingleader, after all... So if I should
see him fall, then sounds as if it really is time to run?"

Ryialla nods at both I'sai's and Kassi's statements. "Aye - I wouldn't say
anything anyway. Large crowds are dangerous around training. And, as I
said, I may want to get my hand it, once it gets to more advanced levels.
Group practicing would be good training for competitions - if you get to
the point where you feel you'd want to enter them, I'sai. And I promise not
to knife you either. Although I'm still willing to cut your hair, if you
want."

"Aye. Because if'n I give into the neverending temptation t'knife him,
they'll punish me the same as if'n I give into the temptation t'knife
dozens of maleriders, so chances are I'd go on a spree," Kassi decides.
*Hopefully* facetiously. "Mart and I, y'see, have been archenemies for
Turns now. Over half our respective lives, which is scary, if'n you think
about it. Competitions are wonderful things." Thus speaks the Gather game
addict. "Careful if'n you do that, hey, Ryi? Many things come and go, but
the embarrassment of a bad haircut lasts forever."

Group - competitions! - _spree_! - but at that second promise, I'sai
outright grins. "I'll remember that. And thank you, Ryi - I'll be sure to
take you up on it, next time if not this. But probably this. I mean, Keira
didn't sound exactly the most, um, reliable? and, yeah, I'd like to not
have a bad haircut too." Indeed, he pats down said hair, fastidious as
ever, for all that there's now a spare crumb or two. "Did you give -him- a
bad haircut, is that what started it?"

Ryialla harumphs. "Give me a little credit, Kassima. I've been cutting hair
for well on 20 Turns now. I wouldn't give I'sai a bad haircut..." She
smiles sweetly at him. "Unless, of course, you do something that would
warrant it." She holds up a finger and says seriously, "Which you haven't.
So don't worry. What did start it, Kassi? I've forgotten."

Longer than I'sai's been alive: he contrives to look impressed, complete to
green-glinting eyes, ...and tugs the corners of his mouth upward with his
forefingers, teasing: 'what, me worry?'

Kassima tugs lightly at her own long braid at the mention of haircuts, but
nods a dubious agreement with Ryi. "As you say. I've an inherent distrust
of all haircuts and--while they're in the act--hair-cutters, truth be
told." Silent for a few moments, she finally tilts her head back to gaze
towards the ceiling in the attempt to remember. "Let's see. We were at
Ruatha together, and I was one of those who came and got him when he ran
away, but 'twere still on good terms then; then 'twas Searched, and later
he lost some pants when Lyss disturbed a clothesline, but I don't think
that did it. It wasn't until--oh, aye! He started making cracks about how I
needed a weyrmate and family and all. So I chased him around a bit with a
large knife. We've been friendly enemies ever since."

I'sai listens through the recital with pointed chin nested in one palm,
elbows most impolitely atop the table; "...So that's all it took. Huh." A
momentary sideways glance at his wingmate's soon followed by an even more
reserved, "He does seem sort of ... big on that weyrmate business. Did you
ever, did it just, uh, not work out?"

Ryialla nods. "That's right. I remember now. His eyes were most
impressively large when you pulled out that knife. Served him right, too.
Weyrmates. Pfah."

"Diplomatically put," Kassi observes, her tone much amused. "Nay, I didn't
ever. Nor, I suspect, shall I ever. I *did* wind up with children, but that
was the fault of flights and alcohol--nay that I'm complaining. Mart,
however, has long been absolutely determined t'see me hooked up to someone
so 'twill threaten said someone rather than him. If'n I didn't like him so
much, I'd burn his hair off."

One of I'sai's callused hands just so happens to run over his hair one more
time. Protectively. And at that mention of flights, he doesn't quite, quite
look at Ryialla, though something niggles at the corner of his mouth; "Ah.
I see. Not the, mm, be-all and end-all, it appears. S'long as you keep your
toes warm."

Ryialla grins broadly at Kassi. "I still think you'll be the one that's
triumphant, in the end. Which is good, cause if he wins, he'll be
campaigning to get everyone in the entire weyr weyrmated. Starting with us
older holdouts." She glances at I'sai out of the corner of her eye -
perhaps that niggling at the corner of her mouth caught her attention. And,
"Don't think you'll have to worry 'bout your hair, I'sai. Don't know anyone
who'd want to burn it off."

"And I'd like to keep it that way," returns I'sai, with rather more
meekness than just the comment deserves.

Kassima shakes her head, forelock falling somewhat into her eyes. "Hardly
that. Truly told--I've a dragon, a Wing, three children, and eighteen
'lizards t'be worrying about; what the shells would I do with a weyrmate
if'n I had one? I'm done with romantic rubbish and aim t'keep it that way."
She sounds more cheerful about this than bitter. "A'course I will, Ryi.
Aren't I a greenrider? And I hate t'break it t'you, but methinks I've
become one of the older holdouts. Horrible thought."

I'sai suggests increasingly more lightly, "If worst comes to worst - not
that it will, and it'd mean admitting it - you two could gang up together
and fake it."

Ryialla mms. "But I've still Turns on you, both ways. I'm older and have
been weyrmateless longer. You've just more children and 'lizards. Still 18,
though? I've only the 5 left - the rest've all pretty much gone wild. But
maybe..." Her eyes twinkle. "That just means you're the better caretaker
than I. A natural parent-type."

"Been there, done that," Kassi replies, with stifled laughter. "I did once
beg the help of a friend at Igen--Kershala--t'help me evade the matchmakers
and spawnbrokers by acting as though 'twere weyrmated, but the ruse was too
hard t'be holding. So I'm afraid I'm nay apt t'be asking your hand in
weyrmating, Ryi--nay offense intended." Her eyes roll up towards the
ceiling. "Eighteen, aye, but that's eighteen out of sixty-six; I've had
more go wild than you, 'twould daresay."

Ryialla adds, to I'sai, "And I doubt faking it'd work. I know I prefer men
more, and I'd have a hard time keepin' up such a ruse." A grin for Kassi.
"Aye, I remember that. Never bought it for a moment. And that's true. I
never had more than the 15."

I'sai snaps his fingers, and - though he has to doubletake partway up at
the mention of sixty-six - eases up to his feet; and then he stretches, a
cautious motion with nothing of relaxation in it. "Too bad. Nothing like a
quick and easy solve-everything-at-once."

Kassima remarks, drolly, "In the literal and the figurative sense,
y'mean--nine times out of ten, there *is* naught like a quick and easy
solve-everything-at-once anywhere in sight. 'Twill just have t'keep abusing
Mart and ensuring that m'Wing beats the pantaloons off of his." She winks.
"Nay offense, Skyfirean-types."

Ryialla rises to her feet, setting down her empty mug, and says, "You can
try, Kassima. But while you'll be able t'easily abuse Mart, you'll find the
rest of Skyfire a harder nut to crack." She rolls her head around for a
moment, causing her neck to emit a few faint pops. "I need to get back,
actually, so I'll be seeing you both later.."

I'sai pauses in his helmet-gathering to incline his fair head - point made
- but then teases, "Yes, of course, ma'am. Both of you."

Kassima considers this only a moment, before rising to her feet similarly.
"Bloody shells, 'tis bloody morning already," she observes, with faint
surprise. "'Twill have drills in another hour or two. Bother. Glad they're
Kena's drills today and nay mine, is all I can say. As to that... well, in
the interests of a good end note, 'twill only say that if'n any Wing can
beat Skyfire, 'tis Thunderbolt, hey?" Grinning, she scoops up her bag of
puzzles and various pieces of abandoned winter gear. "But don't call me
ma'am. That can be hazardous t'your health."

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "...So it didn't turn out to be just half an hour,
Ryialla. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla is gonna be /so/ tired tommorrow. :(

Telgar Weyr> Kassima meepsnugs a Ryi.

Ryialla chuckles. "Watch it, I'sai. Or there may well be two knife-wielding
greenriders after your hide." She idly tosses a throwing knife in her hand
- and /when/ did she take that out? - and heads outside.

I'sai may only have merely winked at Thunderbolt's wingleader by way of
comment - but his own wingmate, now, he gives -her- plenty of room, and her
little knife too, even as he follows her out.

Telgar Weyr> I'sai nods wryly. ...Was fun, though. Thanks. :)

Kassima chortles appreciation of Ryi's gesture, but somehow manages to
refrain from pulling any knives herself as she follows after. Either that,
or she's not carrying any. Which is the same as just saying she restrained
herself, this being Kassi and all.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima nodnods. It was fun. :) And soon, I am going to crash
and thank the PTBs that I'm still on break.

Ryialla lets in the distant noise of the work hall briefly, before the door
shuts behind her.

With a tug, you open the door and are greeted with the slightly distant
cacophony of noise coming from the work hall as you walk out.