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What Fate Has In Store


Date:  February 2, 2000
Places:  Telgar Weyr's Storage Rooms and Living Cavern
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:  Greenriders are better at comforting, consoling, and
counselling than one might think--at least, when it comes to other 
greenriders--but when you get right down to it, our true strengths 
still lay in conspiracy. ;)  Kassi and Ryi discuss current events in
their lives while looking for a kilt for I'sai, then formulate another
plot against Mart (poor brownie), and the day winds to a pleasant 
close with Kassi winning yet more marks in yet another wager.  (With
her current winning streak, I begin to think I should sign up for the 
Psychic Friends Network.)

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The Log:

You walk off towards the Storage Rooms.

The door to the textile stores is open a little, and there's a glimpse of a
figure inside.

Kassima's entrance to the main room is accompanied by a vague scent of
mint. She's really got to lay off those sticks. They're starting to give
her away as surely as 'burdum, burdum' gives away a shark. Humming quietly
to herself, she pulls the door open enough to walk through. "Kilts, kilts,"
she mutters, though coming out around the mint, it sounds more like, "Kiwf,
kiwf."

Ryialla is by the kilts, stroking a man's kilt, in Telgar's colors. She
looks wistful...but at the mutter, she jumps, and sticks the kilt behind
her back. "Er. Ah. Heyla, Kassi. What brings you down here?"

Kassima crunches down on the mint-stick in her surprise at the
sound--observant, she isn't, today--and with a snap, the as-yet uneaten
half falls to land on the dusty floor. Cursing under her breath, the
greenrider uses a stealthy toe to roll it under a cabinet where no one will
see. "Heya, Ryi. Thought I'd come see if'n I could find a kilt for I'sai.
Blue or green, methinks." She never has much cared for Telgar colors. White
just doesn't appeal to her. Glancing towards the stack, she wonders, "Or
have you beat me to the task?"

Ryialla sidles over a little, depositing the kilt surreptitiously on the
pile. "Nah. I was just looking for one for m'self, after th' babe. They've
got a few with Benden colors in it. Was seein' if I could find one with
white." Black, white and red being Ryi's favorite colors. "There's a lovely
puke green color, if y'want t'insure I'sai'll /never/ wear it.." She
points, to the appropriate kilt. It's got lovely shades of purple in it, 
too.

Kassima takes one glance, and turns a shade nearly fit to match the kilt.
Minus, of course, the purple bits. Turning away quickly, she shoves her
hand into her satchel, comes up with another mint, and sticks that in her
mouth. It's probably getting out of eye-contact with the horror that helps
more than the candy, but at least her skin fades back to normal after a
moment or two. "That's horrible," she agrees, "and I'd rather *nay* ensure
he doesn't wear it. Quite the opposite. He'd look smashing in Benden
colors; that might do... mayhaps I should take one for m'self while I'm at
it. Mine's black and green. Could take a Benden kilt and hang white tassles
from the belt-buckle or the like?"

Ryialla hms. "Maybe. But I think that it'd be fairly easy t'find one in
black,white an' red. Or maybe black, green, an' red. An' a small one for
th'babe, like that one you had for Kaylira.."

Kassima grins at that memory. "Sweet little thing, wasn't it? I got one
like it for Ivrihn when 'twas born. There've been enough babes born of
Bendenite mothers here for there t'be a few about... I can help you look?
Though shards alone know what colors the baby-kilts would be in." She flops
down on the other side of the kilt stack, poking at it experimentally.
"A'course, I think I kept Kay's. And Khari's. And Kris's." Trust her to
kilt all her spawn. "Mayhaps one of those could suit if'n you don't find
another."

Ryialla nods, smiling. "That'd be nice - and I'll keep an eye out for
something nice for Is. I think there's some with bronze worked in, even.."

Kassima seems pleased by that. "Mayhaps if'n there's bronze, *Taralyth* can
be helping us con him into it," she supposes, lifting up a layer of kilts
to take a peek beneath. "Yuck. Who'd want an *orange* kilt? An ex-Istan,
mayhaps?" Drawing back from the pile a little, she finally asks, "So how're
things with you, Ryi? Any better?"

Ryialla shakes her head, carefully not looking at Kassima. "Not really. He
came out and sat with me by the lake last night, but muttered something
about the good feelings not lasting and left abruptly." She sighs, pulling
out a canary yellow kilt, then eyeing it with distaste.

"Good feelings nay lasting," Kassi repeats, drawing a brown-and-black kilt
in the stack and eyeing the large burn mark it bears where someone's rump
would be. "That's... odd. Could mean a number of things. Could he be shy?
Convinced your feelings towards him won't last? Something like that?"

Ryialla shrugs, putting the kilt back, and searching some more. "I don't
know. He says he likes being with me, but Whinde's still there." Fingers
bypass another Telgar-colored kilt, then pulls out. "Faranth. It's pink."
Hot pink, even. Turning back to the other topic, she says, "Maybe I
should've just kept sleeping with him anyway, I would've had at least that
much."

Kassima sticks out her tongue in an expression of decided disgust at the
pink kilt. "Ugh. Ugh, ugh, ugh. Ryi, does this singe mark look like a
*shape* t'you? A letter R? I'm starting t'wonder whether mayhaps R'val got
possessive and branded one of his bedmates at some point...." She shudders
at the thought, setting the kilt down fastidiously. "Mayhaps," she then
suggests, "Whinde still being there is more Whinde's doing. From what
little I've seen of her, she seems a possessive sort. Could always go back
to sleeping with him now if'n you wanted?"

Ryialla shudders at that thought. "R'val branding? Ugh. Don't go there,
Kassi. My dinner didn't stay down as it is today, and I's prefer not to
have the dry heaves..." She twitches her nose. "I'm tempted, Kassi,
although I probably shouldn't push t'much with the babe..I just..I don't
know. I like K'ryo more than just a bedmate, I think."

Kassima digs out another mint stick to offer over. "They help," she says.
"Or seem to. I suck on one every time I feel the urge t'be ill, and it's
worked wonders." Okay, so skimping on other forms of food has probably
contributed too, but hey. "Nay worries; *I* wouldn't go near R'val and a
branding iron." One kilt in deep blue and black, shading into purple
towards the edges, is pulled out and considered "Pretty. Aye... methinks
you do, too, for what m'inexperienced opinion's worth. Would it cheapen
things if'n you kept bedding him, then?"

Ryialla says honestly, "I don't know. It's been so long...I don't know what
I'm feeling." Accepting the mint stick gratefully, she sucks on it
thoughtfully, then ventures, "Kassi? Can I ask..how long have you been
getting sick?"

"How d'you feel? Well, I don't know just how I feel. All I know is that I
love you so, 'tis surreal, surreal, surreal," Kassi sings lightly, then
gives an amused headshake. "Haven't thought of that song in Turns. Whether
or nay 'tis appropriate to the moment is up for debate." The query is met
first with silence, then with a sidelong look; her expression is...
secretive? Worried? Guilty? Something. "Awhile," she answers, evasive. "A
sevenday or two."

[Editor's Note:  That song verse was an excerpt from 'Mirror Song,' from
the movie 'Toys.']

Lysseth> Pliarth senses that Lysseth takes a moment to radiate Smug. She is
the veritable Queen of Smugness. She is smug, hear her roar, she is too
smug to ignore, and she knows too much to go back and prete-e-end.

Ryialla's eyes narrow speculatively, then she mm-hmms, and goes back to
looking through the kilts. "Oh, here's a nice one, Kassi. All shades of
green - and not that awful green, either." There's a pause, and Ryi asks,
"Miss any cycles yet?"

"That *is* pretty. Should pair it with black, though, for contrast." Yes,
Kassi likes black. And when she ducks her head, if you matched the color of
her face with it, you'd get Benden. "Can't be sure," she mutters. "Never
been very regular about it." Funny; she doesn't seem surprised or appalled
by the question, as she might be if it hadn't occured to her yet. In an
additional mutter: "Shut up, Lysseth."

Ryialla continues her game of twenty questions. "Mm. Any odd...cravings?"

"Nay that I've noticed," says Kassi, and never mind that mint-stick poking
from one corner of her mouth.

Ryialla mms, again, then says, "Well, Kassi, I hope that you aren't
pregnant. It's not any fun."

Kassima draws up her knees, setting her chin between them and regarding the
floor somewhat glumly. "So do I," she mumbles, "since this would have t'be
taking the cake for *strangest* pregnancy so far...." As though realizing
what she said, she straightens and states with a touch too much vehemence,
"But I'm nay, so what worry? Lysseth's wing will be better in a few days,
and we'll be free t'go back to the Wing and 'twill take her t'Boll
t'celebrate. Just as we planned."

Ryialla says offhandedly, "Good. Because, despite my words that one day
with the hats, I'd rather not you have triplets."

*That* garners Ryi a truly horrified look, and Kassi pales a degree or two
further. "Dear *shards*, don't even be thinking that! One would be odd
*enough*!" Switching tones to something more speculative, she appends
slowly, "Nay that 'twasn't thinking it might be a nice thing t'have another
ere Kris got t'be too much older, but...."

Ryialla asks gently, "But..?"

Kassima turns her stare back to the floor. "But the situation would be
awkward, there's the Wing t'consider, I'm just getting *off* a time of
having nay time or inclination for m'self... and shells, how'm I supposed
t'tell him? Or anyone? Everyone would find it bloody hilarious, I'm sure.
D'you ever get the feeling, Ryi, that we're all merely names in some
sadistic and bizarre Harper's ballad, sung t'let others get a laugh at our
exploits?"

Ryialla nods, sinking down - if with a bit of difficulty - to sit next to
Kassi. "Often. There's been many a time I've felyt the butt of /someone's/
jokes, that's for sure." She offers her shoulder, for a companiable lean.
"And...well. There's options, if you are. Finding someone to take over your
duties, even if A'lex wouldn't be pleased. Or there's the other.."

Kassima switches to a cross-legged position to better be able to gratefully
take advantage of that lean. "Faranth must be getting a good snicker at all
of us." There's a moment of quiet. Slowly, she shakes her head. "Couldn't,"
she murmurs. "Don't see how anyone who's borne and helped raise their
children *could*, y'know? I know of some who have some, lose some, but
that's... 'tis just nay m'way. Kena could take over well enough, I suppose,
with me t'be doing the hidework and supervising...." Reluctance turns to
mingled amusement and exasperation. "You'd nay think a nigh-total chaste
woman would wind up with so many children. Good thing I *don't* sleep
about, since I'm evidently as fecund as a canine bitch who's drunk three
gallons of Water."

<Weavers> Raimi wanders when Kassi's gonna come out of the closet. :)

<Weavers> Kassima says, "Out of the closet? I think I'm afraid to ask,
Raimi.... ;)"

<Weavers> Raimi says, "It says your in a storage room and I extrapolated
from there."

Ryialla snorts. "I don't think you're /that/ fertile, Kassi, if it's any
help. I understand about not wanting to do anything t'the babe. Even as
dangerous as it is at m'age - or so the healers keep telling me - I
couldn't not give her that chance. And...I'm starting to like the idea of
having a little t'raise. Hey - if y'are, y'can always appoint someone from
th'wing t'help too, can't you?"

<Weavers> Kassima ohs. Whew. ;) Kassi's just looking for a kilt to con
I'sai into. 0:)

<Weavers> Shylana giggles!

Kassima grins over at the other greenrider, clearly approving, probably
touched. At least in the head. "May your daughter be born healthy and grow
up t'be as evil a greenrider as her mother," she says, in the tone of one
calling for a blessing. "Me*thinks* I like the idea, too. When I'm nay
worried. Or scared stiff. Or imagining what everyone will say. What, with
the babe? S'pose I could--I'll probably con V'dan into helping out again;
he's a useful sort t'have around, even if'n he makes me kick him every
other day."

<Weavers> Raimi says, "Why is Shylana giggling?"

Ryialla says dryly, "Kicking's good excercise."

<Weavers> Nuala says, "'Cause Kassi's trying to get I'sai into a kilt?"

<Weavers> Shylana nodnods.

<Weavers> Raimi says, "I /told/ here Lilian's got a bunch of 'em. Kassi
getting guys into a kilt isn't unusual at all. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "With no luck so far. I can't understand it. She
told him it was good luck, good for circulation, good for virility... what
more arguments should a guy need? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima knotmavs. Oh, dear. Don't mind that.

<Weavers> Kassima says, "With no luck so far. I can't understand it. She
told him it was good luck, good for circulation, good for virility... what
more arguments should a guy need? ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Aurian snickers

<Weavers> Raimi says, "There's always the fashion show...."

Telgar Weyr> Jenren grins and is now interested in the whole
circulation/virility idea. Please...don't stop now, Kassi.

Telgar Weyr> Alessandra giggles at Kassi.

<Weavers> Aidan thinks he's cool :>

Kassima has to laugh at that. "Good point," she admits. Toying absently
with the edge of one of the kilts, she wonders, "So... d'you think J'lyn'll
be too appalled? I can hear Pierron's rumors now: Thunderbolt Wingleader
pregnant by man-preferring former Wingsecond." Details at eleven.

<Weavers> Raimi says, "I'sai is very nice."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima snickers. Kilts. Kassi's trying to con I'sai into a 
kilt.

<Weavers> Raimi says, "He might think it's a bit cold on the legs, Kassi."

<Weavers> Aidan says, "I've rped with him with two alts. Mostly at night,
Aidan was the only one in a public room at 2 am :>"

<Weavers> Kassima says, "I'sai's a saint. He showed me how to get around
having to word-wrap logs manually, inserting carriage returns 
everywhere. :)"

Telgar Weyr> Aurian says, "kassima.."

Telgar Weyr> Jenren says, "oooooh, yay-es! Wear a kilt, I'sai!""

<Weavers> Raimi says, "St. I'sai...doesn't sound too bad at all."

<Weavers> Shylana giggles!

Telgar Weyr> Jenren says, "Three cheers for Rob Roy and all the
appreciation it invoked for the kilt wearing men, regardless which planet
they walk! YAY!"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima blinks innocently at Auri?

Ryialla thinks for a moment. "Doesn't he already have spawn? He may not be
/that/ appalled if he has..." She's grinning - a teasing tone in her voice,
but she sobers. "More seriously, I bet he'd be proud t'be the father.
You're good people."

<Weavers> Raimi says, "You could tell him the kilt brings out his eyes..."

<Weavers> Aidan says, "you could tell him it attracts the girls? :>"

<Weavers> Nuala watches I'sai's eyes pop out when he sees how he looks in
the kilt.

<Weavers> Raimi says, "...better than a toga.."

"Aye, spawn. And *grandspawn*," Kassi observes, in a faintly awed sounding
voice. "Shells, the spawn would have a two nieces and a nephew older than
itself. Scary." The compliment brings a smile to her face, a smile which
rapidly broadens into an impish grin. "Well, thankee, but remember, this
means he'll have t'be admitting t'sleeping with a *woman*. Oh, horrors."

Ryialla blinks. "Grandspawn. Faranth above. You do realize that someday,
we'll have grandspawn ourselves? Now that's a scary thought. As for
admitting it, well. That'd be if you made the father public - if he wants
that. Sides, so he's slept with a woman, even if he prefers men. Could
always lie, if y'really want, say it was th'after effect of a flight..er,
wait. That doesn't work so well with greens."

Telgar Weyr> Aurian shakes her head, "I'll just be glad you haven't
corrupted my wing.."

Kassima shudders at the very *thought*. "Ack, *Ryi*. Kaylira's only
eleven--let me dream of a few more Turns a'fore *that* becomes a worry!"
Shudder. Shudder. "Oh, 'twill, like as nay. Unless he wants it kept
secret... erk, aye. I don't think Lysseth would be very enthused if'n
'twere claiming she flew Lorieth or vice-versa. At least 'tis nay the first
time I've done such a thing--now people can just point out Jh'rin and J'lyn
both when I claim chastity, and I can answer both with ''Tis the alcohol's
fault.'" There's a pause before she admits, "Lysseth thinks I am. She's all
colors of smug. Smug and annoyed--she does hate being grounded."

Ryialla chuckles. "She and Pliarth can go flying around the weyr, if they
want. Taralyth, apparently, likes to race. They can try an' outrace each
other or somesuch. An' there'll be straight flying for you for a few months
yet, even if you are. Unlike some of us, who are seriously considering
moving down to the guest weyr /now/. I forgot how awkward this is."

"Never did move to the guest weyr m'self, though I stayed with Meli and
T'lar for the last span with Kaylira," Kassi muses. "Too easy for Healers
t'be finding you down there. Sounds like a plan t'me--Lysseth was one of
Benden's fastest, probably *is* the fastest in all Telgar." This is said
with considerable pride. "Faranth knows, she'll probably *drag* me on a
long flight t'Boll at some point t'make me keep that promise. Assuming I 
am."

Ryialla makes a face. "Man. Tillek was bad enough, but Boll? Eh. At least
Boll'dve been warmer. Pliarth gets the /oddest/ ideas sometimes.."

Kassima's brows quirk up. "Dare I even ask what she had the two of you
doing at Tillek?"

Ryialla holds up her hands, helplessly. "She likes their fireheights.
Apparently, it's a really nice view. Or something. Wierd, weird dragon. But
I'sai was there, so maybe it was just some scheme of hers to get me to talk
to a man. She was the one that dragged Jaith out last night."

Kassima's nose crinkles up. "Tillek. Ech. They only have Swill there; how a
nice view could be worth *that*... ahhh. I see." Chuckling, she bites off a
piece of her mint-stick. "So she's turning into a matchmaker, is she?"

Ryialla sighs heavily, admitting, "I think so. Maybe she's been talking to
M'rgan through Ullarith, or something."

Telgar Weyr> I'sai waves through a slow, slow net.

Kassima makes a face that manages, somehow, to be at once both disgusted
and sympathetic. "Mart is *incorrigible*. Oh, dear Faranth, I just
realized--'twill be lucky if'n he doesn't try convincing Jal 'tis his duty
t'weyrmate t'me. He did that with E'vrin." Groan. "Faranth help me! Think I
could bribe him off? Bribe him off with regards t'you, too, while I'm at 
it?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima swoons at I'sai, just for variety's sake. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Jenren peeks over at I'sai. "And are ya waving with yer kilt
on, there, laddie?"

Telgar Weyr> I'sai eyes Kassima susp - No Kilt!

Telgar Weyr> Ceria woowoos!

Telgar Weyr> Whinde stuffs Is into a kilt just cause she was put up to it.

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla thinks the hot pink one, Kassi..

Telgar Weyr> I'sai senses A Conspiracy.

Telgar Weyr> Jenren grins and offers a syringe that'll get him still long
enough for ya all to do that.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima oohs. Not the one with the R burned into the butt, 
Ryi?

Ryialla shakes her head. "I don't know. Maybe I can scare him, or 
somesuch.."

Telgar Weyr> I'sai sniffs. See if I break anything for -you- to fix, 
Jenren.

Telgar Weyr> Jenren says, "We just can't hardly /not/ conspire, what with
the vision of I'sai in kilt wafting in front of our eyes."

Telgar Weyr> Jenren grins. "Yeah, yeah. Watch your step while you're
running away from the kilt dressing party!"

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla hms. That does have promise..

Watch Kassi's attention perk up. "Scare Mart? Got any ideas how?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima has secretly replaced the FKaW campaign with the FIaK
(Find I'sai a Kilt) campaign. Let's watch and see if he notices.

Ryialla grins. "Well, for a start, I figure we could actually transform
those hats into underwear and just scatter them in front of his weyr.."

Telgar Weyr> I'sai grins. How about, instead, some incentive to bring you
lot back something interesting from the Rusted Hulk? Of the drinkable
variety, anyway.

"Oooh... you'd have t'be doing the transforming," Kassi points out, "since
I have nay intent t'ever be making underpants, but I like that idea. D'you
imagine we could get an artist t'be painting a picture of him in one of the
things, t'be giving t'Kena in suggestion? Or would that take too hefty a
bribe to the artist?"

Ryialla ponders. "Well, I'm not a horrible artist, m'self. Could do
something simple.."

Kassima begs, "You'll let me see? And *nay* let Kharisma see--she's a
budding artist herself, and she'd probably try t'copy that, Faranth help
me. Last thing I need is t'have her leaving sketches of Mart in the
nigh-altogether around the weyr."

Ryialla nods. "I will. And we'll keep in m'weyr - whether it's up or
temporarily down. That way, unless Kharisma follows you around, she won't
see it. What else can we do, though? I don't think the sketch'll be 
enough."

"Khari usually only follows me if'n she thinks I'm going somewhere
interesting, so I just won't *tell* her I'm going t'look at sketches of
Mart in underpants," Kassi decides. "Um. Hmmm. We could be stashing tent
pegs where he's apt t'find 'em? On his ledge, in the weyr, in his
strap-pouch? He has a strange fear of the things. Can't imagine why."
Ryialla huhs. "Tent pegs? Strange. We should go check. See where they 
are.."

Kassima suggests, "M'Aunt Keysanna has some. She makes tent peg-shaped
pastries; I brought Mart one once, and 'tis how I know he fears 'em. She
could make him an underpants-shaped cake, too. We could have Pierron serve
it to him or the like while he's at dinner in the Cavern?"

Ryialla considers, and shakes her head. "Not an underpant-shaped cake, no.
Too many littles around. Mayhaps dress someone up like a tent peg and have
them jump out of a giant cake decorated with mini versions of the hats?"

Kassima blinks at this. Blinks again. And bursts out laughing. "Ryi, I
*love* it, I do! We could deliver the cake up to his weyr t'prevent any
littles from seeing and thinking jumping out of cakes is the thing
t'do--oh, I've *got* t'see his expression when he sees, though. I *love*
that. Absolutely perfect!"

Ryialla beams. "He'll not be thinking of weyrmating us ever again. I,
however, am going to have dawn sweeps for the rest of my life after the
baby's weaned. Not that I care. It'll be worth it."

Kassima has to repeat that phrasing with a mixture of mild horror and
laughter, "Weyrmating us... shells, that sounds like he'd be trying t'get
us t'go into a four-way with him and Kena. Ack. *Ack*, say I. 'Twill be
adding a few stars by m'name on his 'People To Kill' list m'self, but
what's new about that? I've already enough stars t'take up a page entire."

Ryialla claps her hand to her mouth. "A four-way? With M'rgan? I'd sooner
be with L'cher..speaking of which, mention whipped cream and L'cher in the
same sentence - drove him clear out of the room last time. Ooh. We'll get
/L'cher/ to jump out of the cake!'

"He'd be entirely too smug," Kassi decides, "even if'n--and don't be
telling *him* this--he's actually nay half-bad bed-wise, from what one can
tell from flights." And yes, she does flush a bit when she says that. She's
Kassi. She has to. "Ah-hah! Aye! L'cher would make the *perfect* tent peg.
Mayhaps we should even have him sing a little song."

Ryialla grins wickedly at Kassi. "Miner song?"

"Since he'd be dressed as a sharp, pointed stick, 'twould be appropriate,"
Kassi agrees, with delight. "Ryi, you're a genius. A positive genius."

Ryialla looks rather pleased with herself.

Kassima, still beaming, looks around the storeroom with a generally
improved and cheerful mood. "Now we just need t'figure out how t'get a
giant tent peg costume for L'cher--from Weavercraft, mayhaps?--and kilts
for I'sai and your spawnlet. Mayhaps a new kilt for me, too--black, bronze,
and purple, hey? Thunderbolt colors. A Wing-colored kilt would be a new
thing, even if'n I don't wind up getting a chance t'wear it for a time."

Ryialla nods. "I want a kilt for myself, as well. But I probably should
wait til after the babe's born. And we can comission the costume, I think.
Probably the cake, too - can't jump out of a real one. Hollow, made out of
pasteboard or paper mache or something."

"Can commission the Wing kilt and tent peg from the Weavers," Kassi
decides, "and mayhaps a special kilt for I'sai so he'll feel *obliged* t'be
wearing it. Black, white, bronze, hints of orange for Skyfire, d'you think?
Who could make the cake? Woodcrafters?"

Ryialla nods. "That sounds good, yes. And probably woodcrafters - can't
think who else would ..."

Kassima wants to know, "Can you fly straight as far as Woodcraft? 'Tis a
sight closer than Boll; could both go, once Lysseth's wing's sound, and I
could pop over t'Boll after another pair of months or sooner depending." A
snort escapes her. "I suppose I should grit m'teeth and see a Healer, just
so I don't keep having t'say 'mayhaps this, mayhaps that' when planning."

Ryialla considers. "If Lysseth's better in a sevenday or two. Beyond that,
I'm not sure I can. I'm near on six months along as it is."

Kassima assures, "She should be ready for flight again in two, three days,
mayhaps a bit more, but certes nay more'n a sevenday. All the soaking's
been doing her wing good--and *she's* less apt t'grumble when neck-deep in
hot water, thank Faranth. Three more months--thought of names yet?"

Ryialla nods. "A couple, but with not knowing the father, it's tough t'talk
to him and try and pick."

"I'sai or K'nan." Kassi taps the end of the much-diminished mint-stick
against her teeth. "A K-name with the latter, a'course, but either could be
tricky. Just do the spawn a favor? Don't name it Ryikasainanallai. 'Twill
thank you later."

Ryialla chuckles. "I was just thinking Kasaini. Covers all the bases, and
even has one of my letters in it."

Kassima has to grin. "Sounds almost as though I'm one of the fathers,
though," she points out, with a brow-waggle. "Nay, truly, I like it. Change
it to Kaysani and you could get *two* letters. I always insist on at least
two, one a K, in return for all the retching and such."

Ryialla nods. "That could work, yes. But hopefully the spawnlet'll look
more like one of them than the other, and I won't have that problem."

"'Twould be convenient," Kassima agrees. "Never had the problem
m'self--needless t'say, I suppose--but 'twas relieved when Khari looked so
like Jhor after Channie spread those rumors about Mart. As if'n the flight
hadn't been over a Turn agone. Hoping particularly for one father or the
other?"

Telgar Weyr> I'sai whispers, "Think the storage rooms ate them alive? Or
are they just redecorating?"

Ryialla says somberly, "Seriously? I'sai. Not because I don't care for
K'nan or anything, but mayhaps it'd be easier on Jeshua if she knew. Not
that it'd fix things between them, but..."

Telgar Weyr> M'dei says, "I think you're probably in trouble, that's what I
think. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "...Hey. <g>"

Telgar Weyr> Ryialla says, "Hey hey."

Telgar Weyr> Ceria blinks.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "It's just taking us a long time to find a kilt
embarrassing enough, Is. ;) *Wafflesnugs.*"

Telgar Weyr> I'sai says, "Oh, well, in that case. Take -lots- of time if
you like."

Kassima nods, also sobering at this topic. "True point. Jesh moved to a new
weyr, in Thunderbolt's section... 'tisn't looking good." Pondering a
moment, she quips, "Y'know, that's K'nan's fourth weyrmating? Three of 'em
blueriders. Mayhaps he needs t'be finding himself a brownrider woman for a
change."

Ryialla blinks. "Four? There've been four?"

Telgar Weyr> Whinde holds up a bright purple, green, yellow, and hot pink
kilt with bright orange diagonals running throug it and a pouch in a
convienent spot. "How's this?"

Kassima nods, and holds up a hand to tick them off on her fingers.
"Elyandra, Aphrael, Asrai, Jeshua. Four. Don't think any of 'em were truly
happy partings, though I don't know how he and Asrai broke it off. They
have a set of triplets, did y'know?"

Ryialla shakes her head. "No. I didn't. I spent a lot of turns just...oh,
you know. K'nan was in my wing, but I just trying not to think of him. Or
maybe it was weyrmatings. Either way, I just blocked it out."

Kassima cants her head to one side, eyes inquisitive. "Did you have a thing
for him at one point? Couldn't blame you; he's an attractive man. Popular
with women everywhere, I daresay. Blocking out weyrmatings is a challenge;
every time you think you've managed, in comes another pair to the Cavern,
lovesick and all over each other like a pair of lust-crazed ferrets."

Ryialla looks down at her hands for a moment, then nods. "I did. I remember
being rather jealous when he and Aph were weyrmated - I think that's when I
pretty much just started shutting it out. Didn't help that he kept flirting
with me...but then, Pliarth and I got scored, and I was at Benden, and I
was able to put it aside for a time."

Kassima reaches to try and catch and squeeze one of those hands briefly in
a comforting gesture. "Nay easy, is it, wishing someone who's weyrmated
were yours instead. Methinks we're far from the only folk who've felt that
way about someone at some point. And you didn't do as Jenren did, and latch
onto him, claiming 'twas his right t'spill 'dragonseed' where he would
whether weyrmated or nay and then telling Aph when she walked in about how
he'd been dallying with K'ti when he was only pretending a pairing with
K'ti t'shake her off." Ah. So *that's* why Kassi doesn't care for Jenren.
"D'you know, I envy you, a bit? Nay the scoring, but the time at Benden. I
miss m'home."

Ryialla frowns. "I don't like Jenren. She was talking to K'nan last night
in the infirmary, and she was all, "Oh, I haven't /examined/ you yet..."
She shudders. "Healers. And that doesn't help matters much, what you said."
She settles back against the pile of kilts. "You know, it's funny. I
should've probably told K'nan I liked him before this, but after that whole
thing with N'fan, I was just so leery, I decided not to say anything. And
now, he's free, but I'm still feeling guilty over the whole mess I had a
part in...and while I adore K'nan, my feelings aren't the same anymore. I
mean, I'd happily bed him again, if he asked. But..."

"I don't much care for her m'self." Mild words, but very strange spoken
from the amiable Kassi. "I'd rather have *Ushu* tend me than her. Reason I
birthed Kris in m'weyr rather than the Infirmary was so there'd be nay
chance of her being there, though I didn't tell anyone that. But." Finding
a stable something to lean against herself, she wonders, "How do people get
up the courage t'be telling one another they like each other, anyway? I
think 'tis an admirable thing, but I don't have it, so I've never
understood it. N'fan... now there's another who had all the lasses messed
up, I've heard." She sighs faintly, muttering something about fickle men.
"I'd warrant 'twere infatuated with him, if'n I had t'be hazarding a guess.
That tends t'fade where true love remains. I'truth--I adore him as m'mentor
and friend, but I don't think I'd advise any woman t'be making a pair of it
with him. Mayhaps there's one who can catch his heart and keep it, but
after four tries...."

Ryialla nods, and stretches. "You know, I think I might actually be able to
eat something? I'm going to head out to the living cavern."

Ryialla gets to her feet and says, "But I hope someday K'nan does find that
someone." N'fan...she doesn't want to talk about. Even after all these 
turns.

Kassima bobs her head agreeably. "Should, probably--try the cheese-noodles;
they're good. Might be better with mint." Oh, boy, here we go. "Aye, me
too. But nay at the price of too many more unhappy women. With luck...
well. Eat well; may follow in a bit--I'm going t'keep looking through the
kilts."

Ryialla waves, then nods. "Alright. I'll see you later, then."

You follow your nose down the hallway and into the kitchen.

You walk into the Living Cavern.

Pierron humphs thoughtfully as the Wingleader of Thunderbolt arrives.

Akiko sits on one of the tables, kicking her legs from side to side until
they bounce off each other with a soft thuff of a sound.

Leya walks in from the bowl.

I'sai's shoulders hunch in at that wail, such that even the Kassima's
entrance goes momentarily unremarked. "...Can't you fix them?" he asks
before whirling to look at the sound of bouncing feet, as if it might have
been a third twin - triplet? - sneaking up on him.

Leya gives a general wave to everyone in the LC when she walks in and, as
usual, walks over to the serving table. She eyes the selection and decides
to try the cider for once. She fills herself a mug and walks over to join
her friends.

Kassima breezes in with something disturbingly plaid slung over one arm and
the now-predictable mint-stick tucked in her cheek, humming a tune whose
cheerfulness would likely disconcert those who know her. "G'deve, all!" she
hails, lifting her kilt-free hand. And, yes, ignoring the baby cry. She's a
mother. She's become immune to being startled by baby cries. "I'sai, you'll
be glad t'know that I've the most wonderful plan for you. But 'twill nay
tell you what 'tis, yet. You'll have t'*guess*." Dropping both prize and
satchel onto her table, she asks, "Any cheese-noodles left?"

Whinde quirks an eyebrow at the plaid thing that is over Kassima's shoulder
and wrinkles her nose at I'sai "He's not /broken/ just.. Hiccupy." she nods
affirmatively and winces as another loud wail sets off his brother, who
spits a glop of bananna onto her cheek and demonstrates how good his lungs
are. "Ohdear."

I'sai studies the little black-haired girl a moment, then asks, "Who're
you? Are you one of hers?" with a nod to Whinde; he breaks off, though, as
Kassima addresses him: "...I see. No idea about the cheese-noodles," in
short, neither agreement nor a guess. "But there's soup. Plenty of soup;
what are you drinking tonight, Leya?"

Whinde rolls her eyes at I'sai "As if I'm the mother to all the 
weyrchildren.

Leya shrugs as she pulls a chair near I'sai and Whinde, and the baby,
babies? as they seem to be with Whinde. "I didn't notice any when I was
over there, Kassi. But I wasn't looking for them either." She sits down,
setting her mug on the table. She eyes the plaid thing warily, then looks
at I'sai. "I think I might have an idea what that is..." She then looks
down at her mug, "Cider, warm cider."

Akiko looks up, and around at the 'Who're you?' question in curiousity if
it was directed at her, but since the direction was cut away before she
could make eye contact she just places her hands together and continues to
lightly kick her feet together. Saying nothing.

I'sai suggests, "Well, why don't you take care of that one, Whinde? She's
quiet - enough not to answer me. You all right, kid?" he asks the girl, for
all that he remains focused for no greater degree this time; "...But is it
hard or soft cider, and is it good, and do -I- want to know what that is?"

Leya smiles at the little girl, then chuckles softly at I'sai. "Soft. Good.
And I don't think so." She answers each of his questions in turn.

Akiko finally makes eye contact with I'sai and nods her head. Once. Thats
it, no other sort of change or reaction, not a quirk of a smile or a light
in her eye. Passive. She just nods. She slides dow off of the table
however, and lands on the ground lightly, brushing her clothing free of
dust and splinters.

"Oh, 'tis a kilt," Kassi assures, taking a moment to hold it up and shake
it out for all to see. Glorious black-and-red plaid rifles faintly in what
air currents may exist in here. "But nay worries; 'tis for me. I'd been
wanting one in Benden colors, and there 'twas. Going t'commission one from
the Weavers, too, in Thunderbolt colors--you can never have too many kilts.
Oh, and I'sai--if'n you decide t'wear one, don't go for the
brown-and-black. There's an R burned in its butt." Bouncily, she nigh-skips
over to the food table to investigate. "Ooh. Pepper salad! This'll do. Are
you wanting cider, I'sai?" Spinning to survey the room, she points to Akiko
at random. "How about you? Want aught t'drink? Food and drink are free
t'visitors, y'know, and welcome to the Icy Wastes."

I'sai squints at the girl - but she's in Kassima's oh-so-tender care now,
and so he says to all three, make that four of the females, "I'm happy for
you. Really I am." A little more quietly, to Leya, "You're probably right.
The question is whether I'd never ever get to find out, which is maybe
good, or whether I'd be surprised later, which ... isn't."

Rewarding Kassima a nod, Akiko holds her hands limply at her side. "Yes
please." The neutral tone of a voice speaks out, and for a moment the side
of her lip actually upturns in a faint smile, but it fades as quickly as it
came.

Leya eyes the kilt, then grins at the 'brown and black kilt' part. "Yes,
that wouldn't do at all. It'd have to have an I burned in its butt for it
to work." She giggles, then regains her composure enough to take a drink of
her cider without spitting it out or having it go up her nose.

Whinde grins again and spares a glance for Akiko, but chooses to fall
quiet. Her hands are busy with the wailing twins and their powerful lungs.
Resorting to the ever-so-popular and ever-so-calming, she scoops them up,
one on each hip, and walks in circles around the caverns, jiggling each in
turn and wincing again as one of the not-so-delicate twin boys discovers
her long silver hair, and tugs on it.

Kassima rewards I'sai with a sunny smile. "Wait'll you get a load of
yours," she suggests. Yeah, that's likely reassuring. Scampering along the
table, she whirls together a plate of pepper salad and cup of mint tea for
herself; these are set down as she inquires, smiling back to Akiko in full,
"What, then? Cider, tea, citron, redfruit juice, klah, water? Don't drink
the Water. 'Twill make you spawn, and you're too young. I'm Kassima, by the
by--green Lysseth's rider; well met, and Leya, I still think 'tis from some
incident with R'val trying t'brand a bedmate or the like. Scary."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "There are times when one finds oneself
wondering what drugs, precisely, one's character has been sniffing."

"...Hey," I'sai protests. "That isn't -nice-, Leya. How come you're not..."
his pale glance sharpens on Kassima. "...That's not helping. Just in case
you were, you know, curious."

Schmitt walks in from the bowl.

Akiko seems to step back, as Kassima whirls off those words in such rapid
succession that the most skilled harper would have trouble deciding just
what was said. Well, at least in her mind at any rate. She looks across the
table slowly, taking her time in the choosing. "Cider." She adds after a
moment of silence and afterthought, "Please." She doesn't seem to
understand the spawning part and actually shows the emotion of confusion.
"To young? For what?" She demands. No child likes to be to young for 
anything!

I'sai jerks a look up, dragon-alerted, "...No duck."

Kassima flutters her lashes at I'sai. She's in *far* too good a mood. Evil
must be in the making. "Isn't it? Helping what, is the question. Helping
you be nervous? Certes 'tis. At least by the look. Cider, got it--cold or
hot?" Two pitchers are hefted to demonstrate the availability of both.
"T'be having children, a'course. You're, what, a bit younger than m'own
daughter? She's eleven Turns. And trust me, she is *definitely* nay old
enough t'be making me a grandmother."

M'dei's expression suddenly goes rather remarkably blank. He stares off at
the bowl, wineglas s forgotten, and gets to his feet.

Laila walks in from the bowl.

Schmitt's shivering as she enters, "Sharding cold! Igen's duties to you
all; I'sai! Just who I was wanting to see. Tis time for Anra to pick up her
duckling, but I've had no luck in contacting her. Forgot where she was
from, in fact."

Leya smiles sweetly at I'sai, "But it's so much more fun to..." She trails
off as her attention is caught by something else, something in the bowl.
"Oh no..." she moans, running her hand over her face.

Akiko approaches the woman holding the two picters, and holds a finger just
below her lips in thought. She looks at one, and then the other seeming to
remain on the air of indescision. Finally, her eyes close, and she stabs at
the Hot Cider. "That one." She says quietly, and smiles a bit more. "Can I
meet her? Mother said I should try and make friends."

Laila walks in, looking about, then blinking at Schmitt. "Oh - Hello,
Schmitt." She pauses, looking over to Leya. "Evening - I thought I'd..."
She trails off, brow furrowed.

Kassima then spins again to call a return salutation: "Duties to Igen and
her queens! And blues, and browns. G'deve and welcome, both of you...."
Leya is peered at. "I don't want t'be asking, do I. Hot 'tis, then--" A mug
is snagged; steaming amber liquid is poured in, and the whole is offered to
Akiko along with a grin. "Aye, certes you may, when she's about. Simaeva's
likely telling her and her sibs bedtime stories about now."

"Harper," I'sai says on a swallow. "She's from - but Benden originally -
but you mean - " he stands from his soup, bowl half-empty, half-full.
"Tonight only wanted this," M'dei mutters darkly, as he stalks out to the
bowl. No explanations are offered; most everyone probably already knows why
he's leaving in the first place.

M'dei walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Schmitt glares bowl-wards for a short moment, then determinedly continues
after a smile to Leya. "Harper. Alright. I'll catch her there, then, I
suppose. Though obviously," she grits her teeth, "not tonight."

Leya walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

"Excuse me," I'sai says to the visitors, pale eyes other-focused; he wipes
his mouth with the back of his hand. Goes.

I'sai walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Schmitt walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Laila blinks, a few times, and follws the others, with a quick nod.

Laila walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Akiko takes the mug, and looks around for a place to sit, realizing she
can't get back up onto the table without her hands free. Determined, she
decides to stay close to Kassima. She will find a seat for her soon,
certainly.

Kassima sighs quietly at the mass exodus. "Here we go again." Scooping up
her plate and cup, she threads her way back to her Wing's table, flopping
into her seat at its head and indeed kicking out a chair in offering for
Akiko should she wish it. Food is set aside, and she scrambles through her
satchel until she comes up with a worn scroll. "Gaiath, Gaiath," she
mumbles, looking it over. "Huh. With browns, bronze, blue chasing...." Her
voice subsides into a litany of mumbles for a moment as she scribbles,
then: "All *right*, a half-mark says Tovith will catch, W'ger, and hold
that thought while I get the wine. Greenflight," she thinks to add in
succinct explanation for any who might not know.

Akiko sits down in the offered seat without comment or question, just
looking at Kassima almost expectantly. But, the look soon fades and she is
happily, if not quite passively drinking from the cup in her hands, looking
down at it after each sip. "..." She looks up and then at the woman once 
more.

Kassima holds up one finger in a signal to hold that thought, too, and
departs the room for several moments. When she returns, it's with an armful
of wineskins, which she procedes to begin setting out on the table nearest
the entrance. "Riders whose dragons don't win will need t'have wine handy,"
she explains. "Now, then. What brings you--or your parents, should I
say?--to the Icy Wastes, lass?"

Whinde seems to be mostly successful at getting the wailing twins to calm
down and sits at a table once again, letting the two crawl happily all over
it, hiccups subsided. "Aye, indeed. What brings you all here, what's your
name?"

While waiting for an answer, Kassi rummages a mint-stick from out her
satchel--yes, another--and uses it to stir her mint tea with. For several
moments. Until most of the candy has melted. Taking a sip, she proclaims
it, with a beatific smile, "Perfect," and sets to the work of crunching the
salad away. "Peppers're good, too," she offers, just in case anyone 
wondered.

Akiko looks between Whine and Kassima, quietly sipping at her Cider.
"Mother never tells me. We simply go." She answers cryptically, and turns
her eyes towards the woman with the two children in her arms. "Akiko."
Answered quietly.

"And who is your mother?" Kassi wants to know, though coming out around a
mouthful of salad as they are the words are somewhat muffled. Washing the
peppers down with her very minty mint tea, she nods solemnly at the naming.
"Pleased t'be making your acquaintance, Akiko."

Akiko sets the mug down upon the table and looks over at Kassima. "Mothers
name? Kiko." She answers quietly, and places her hands down upon her lap,
fingers pulling and tugging at the material of her clothing. Her head
remains down and her mannerisms very subdued.

Kassima beams, approving. "A K-name, I'm guessing? Excellent. Can't say I
know her, though." Around the rim of her cider mug, she observes, "Have
t'be crediting her, though: she's managed t'raise a polite lass, of all
miracles. Both of m'lasses are hellions. Charming hellions, but hellions.
This your first time at a Weyr?"

Akiko explains, "Usually I stay with Father. But Mother wanted me to come
and travel with her." She looks back up, and still, perhaps oddly so, her
tone, inflections, everything that might give away what she is thinking, or
feeling is not there. She is quiet, and to the point. "I like being quiet."
Forced smile.

Whinde gives a noteworthy look toward Akiko that implies she /knows/ about
Kassima's children. "I'm Whine." she grins "The nanny that blows through
places."

Kassima nods, accepting this, and sinks into a congenial and listening
silence for a few moments while putting the rest of her food away. The
plate emptied, she leans back in her chair, her expression one of supreme
content. A mildly confused look is tendered first to Whinde--the
greenrider's children are not nursery residents--then to Akiko. "Naught
wrong with being quiet, lass. Didn't mean t'be implying it. As you like
being, so should you be."

Telgar Weyr> Whinde wrinkles her nose. They may not be residents of the
weyr, but surely she knows about them. :)

Akiko nods her head absently, mostly looking away from them now and lost in
the worlds she can create and destroy with simple thoughts of her mind.
"..." She looks up and between the two. "You both seem. Really. Nice."
Struggling it seems in her soft tones to decide how to say it. "Grown-ups
don't usually talk to me."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Well, possibly. :) They're Weyr residents, but
privately fostered. Kay and Khari would probably be running about, though;
they're old enough to be assigned chores in the Lower Caverns and 
whatnot. :)"

Kassima quirks a wry smile at Akiko, raising her mug in a toast of thanks
to the sentiment. "Thankee--but I'll talk the ears off of anyone who'll sit
still long enough, I'm afraid. Ask anyone. But you're quite pleasant t'be
talking to; can't imagine why others wouldn't. How's the cider, by the by?"
Akiko almost cracks a smile. Almost. But that is hidden to her own thoughts
and she simply remains passive. "Its. Good. Thank you." She makes a point
to take another sip of the rapidly cooling drink. Her eyes dart aside
towards Whinde.

Kassima dips her chin, nodding, and gazes a moment into her tea. Finally,
she drains off the rest of it and produces yet another mint-stick to nibble
on--how many of those things has she got, anyway? "Shouldn't be long now,"
she comments, with a glance towards the Bowl. "Shame the lump isn't out
there t'be telling me how the flight goes. I've a healthy concern for that
half-mark I placed."

Ryialla walks in from the bowl.

Ryialla ducks in, flicking a glance outward at the bowl quickly as she does
so.

Kassima hails Ryialla with a wave of her mint-stick. "Hey, Ryi! Any word on
how the flight's progressing? Is she near t'being caught yet?"

Akiko turns her head towards the bowl as well. "..." She is silent, making
a note to look at Ryialla as well, then she quiets, sliding down and away
from the chair while placing the mug onto the table. Eyes wander, searching
and she starts to slip away.

Ryialla waves at Kassi, pulling her own mint stick out and popping it in
her mouth. "Looks like it may be getting pretty close - which means we
should have grumpy riders in here shortly. Booze set up yet?"

Kassima does note Akiko's beginnings of departure, and turns to nod to her,
with a waggle of the ubiquitous mint for good measure. "G'deve t'you, lass,
if'n you're going, and regards t'your mother." Back to Ryi: "A'course!"
Stick is now pointed towards the near-entrance table with its stock of
'skins. "Red and White, nay that they'll know the difference. Think any
will wander in minus most of their clothing this time?"

Ryialla rubs her hands together, and looks momentarily gleeful. "Aye, I
hope so. Got t'help those of us that can't drink t'enjoy themselves, yes?"
She nods at Akiko, and murmurs, "Good eve."

Whinde manages to get the babies on her hips to doze off somehow and stands
"Well, I think I better get rid of these babes. Don't want the riders near
them like this." She dissappears in the direction of the nursery for a
moment and returns sans babies, plus a few more wine skins to add to
Kassima's sack. She hasn't been her long, but long enough to know what to
do after a flight.

"Aesthetic appreciation is key," Kassi agrees, quite sage. "And what I
wouldn't give t'be drinking one of those Reds--" A nod of thanks is given
to Whinde for her further contribution.

Ryialla grins at Kassi, and disappears into the kitchen, returning with two
glasses of red liquid. She holds one out to Kassi, and says, "White grape
juice and a little coloring. We can pretend."

Whinde points back toward teh room she just came from "I know where a whole
case is.." she offers temptingly.

Kassima accepts the glass with a laugh, lifting it in salute to the other
greenrider. "Ingenuous. I like it." She sips, then exhales the ahh of
appreciation that would go with an excellent vintage. "A pressing from Turn
five of the Pass, I believe," she intones in her most pompous connisseurian
affectation. "Doesn't do us any good t'have a case right now, alas."

Ryialla says wryly, "Unless we want a stomache on top of a stomache - well,
for me, anyway."

Whinde oohs quietly, suddenly remembering impending pregnancies and grins
"I know where some really good milk?" she offers

Ryialla waves her hand dismissively. "Nah. Grape juice never bothers it."

Kassima shakes her head, this time in disgust, braid swaying to and fro.
"Milk. Can't stand the stuff, but thankee." She raises her glass for
another sip, but pauses mid-motion as one of the greenriders at her table,
inquiring of a grouchy-looking bluerider who's filtered in as to the lucky
dragonpair, lets loose a groan and tosses a mark-piece at Kassi. She
catches it, of course, and sets the cup down to better be able to field the
rest of her winnings. "See? Bet on Thunderbolt dragons, and you'll win
every time," she taunts her Wingmates, grinning broadly.

Ryialla flicks a glance to Kassi. "Who caught, then?"

"Tovith," Kassi replies, dropping the collection of half-marks into an
already obscenely full belt pouch. "Remind me t'be thanking Leya on his
behalf for m'bounty in the morn. But if'n 'twill excuse me, all--'tis late,
and I need t'be checking up on Lyss a'fore I sleep. Someone will let me
know if'n anyone wanders in without clothes?"

Ryialla nods, and waves. "Will do. I'll likely just sit here and see who
all trails in."

Kassima executes a bow to greenrider, a bow to the Cavern general, drains
off her color-doctored juice, gathers kilt and satchel, and exits, stage
left. Whistling.

You walk towards the inner cavern.