| Visiting Gar, and chatting about snow |
| 28/01/2002 Logfile from Harpers-Tale Gar Hold Entry Hall The Entry Hall of Gar Hold is roughly octagonal in shape. Eight doors lead out of it, one is the one you just entered from. The first thing you notice is the mural painted on the walls. It seems to be a panoramic depiction of a orchard in the spring. The artist took their time as everything is at nearly life size. Lining the sides of the Hall are padded stone benches, that seem to flow freely into the mural. Posted over the Door to the Holder's Office is the Hold Crest, A shield of Forest Green with a solitary Blue band placed diagonal across the shield. While the center of all movement in Gar Hold, it still remains a pleasant place to stop and talk anytime with friends, and enjoy the mural. To the southeast, you see Xylyth. On the perch are FirstFrost and Thessalonike. You see Messenger Box, Sushi, Job Openings, Witch, Koa, Mercury, and Tapestry here. Petrin is here. Obvious exits: The Happy Harper Dining Hall Holder's Office Main Hallway Steward's Office Gar Hold Shops CourtYard Spiral Staircase Petrin Standing about six-foot tall and well tanned from hours spent outdoors he has a wide face with a pair of large eyes, and a longish nose which sits above a small mouth with full lips. His narrow shoulders and thin frame conceal stringy muscles that could only have come from hours of repetitive labour. His hands are hard and worn with more than a few scratches on them. Light brown hair, with blond streaks, is more neatly brushed down, obviously by intent. A neat outfit, consisting of a practical pair of dark brown trous and a clean white shirt over which a deep blue waistcoat has been added, looks not quite right on Petrin. Either the clothes are unaccustomed to the man, or visa versa. A carefully constructed Double Cord, with a Single Loop, Long Tail, and Two Tassles in Gar's forest green and bright blue knot hangs on Petrin's left shoulder. He is awake and looks alert. Carrying: Petrin's Bunny Slippers Pir Petrin is 25 Turns, 3 months, and 27 days old. Petrin's moving down the stairs in his usual wandering manner, head down. Even if you could see his eyes, it's unlikly he would see you... Kazra Kazra stands tall at her final height of 5'8. Brown hair sweeps back off her face, but there is a new addition to it. Twined among the brown strads are quite a few colourful ribbons, white, red, blue, green and purple. Falling neatly down her back, they reach to her shoulders, giving Kazra's hair a new, colourful look. A small band of leather holds the ribbons and the hair back out of her sparkling blue eyes. Long legs taper upwards to a thin waist, broadening out only slightly to her upper body. Arms are slender and well formed, often gesticulating a point. Kazra has changed her outfit along with her name, now sporting a vivid orange short sleeved top and a pair of black trousers. Her feet are covered with ankle length black boots that look rather worn, though sometimes Kazra kicks them off to wander around barefooted. Kazra wears the orange and black knot of an Ista Weyr Weyrlings, with a thin ribbon of brown trailing through it to indicate her lifemate. She is awake and looks alert. You notice Kazra looking at you. Kazra is 24 Turns, 3 months, and 23 days old. Kazra wanders in, nodding as she's being talked to by another rider, who's know indicates him as an Assistant Weyrlingmaster. He heads off on some errand of his own, and Kazra meanders over to one of the benchs to await his return. Petrin reaches the bottom of the stairs, and stops to look around, his eyes pass over the rider at least twice befor he finally registes and comes busseling over. "Morning ma'm." His eyes notice her knot, "Can I help Dragonrider?" He asks. Kazra blinks as she's addressed so formally before she smiles. "Please, just call me Kazra. I'm just a weyrling." she asks before she shakes her head. "I'm just waiting for Rider Jo'rvik to return sir. He had an errand to run here, and offered to give me another betweening lesson in the process, so that I could get the visuals for Gar Hold." Petrin begins to look even more worried, his brow wrinkeling, "Rider Jo'rvik had an errand?" He can't help ask, nervously glancing around, nothaving followed he man's progress and not sure where to look, "Will he need help?" He breathes deaply, "Weyrling or no ma'm, you deserve our respect." He clears his throut and waves towards the 'Harper, "And a drink?" he offers. Kazra nods. "He said that there was someone that he had to see. I think it was something to do with a Turnday gift, although I could be wrong." weyrlingmasters not confiding in their weyrlings that much. "I'm sure that he'll be fine." she tries to reassure Petrin. "Thank you for the offer sir. A drink would be nice. But no wine or ale, we're forbidden those." Drunken weyrlings not being a pretty site. Petrin looks relieved, slightly. "We have some excellant fruit juices, although our cider is more well know." He manages a nervous laugh. "This way ma'm." He leans towards the 'Harper. Petrin wanders to the The Happy Harper. You go to the The Happy Harper. The Happy Harper You find yourself in the well-lit Happy Harper. It seems to be perhaps one of the most cared for items of the hold. The walls and bar have deep-red wood panelling, and glow baskets placed at a very regular interval. There are about six tables for eight and four booths in the corners. All the tables and chairs seem to be of a very nice quality and very well taken care of. Serving also as the center of social interaction at Gar hold, it is usually where one looks to find anyone. OOC note: If you wish for a list of the offered drinks here, merely type 'listdrink' and it will show you how to find them. :) On the perch are fifteen firelizards. You see Rainbow Food Platter, Bubblies, and Chess Set here. Petrin is here. Obvious exits: Kitchen Entry Hall Cute One chitters at Petrin, leaning from his perch to watch the newcomer, too. Petrin bluntly ingores the firelizard as he move behind the bar and reaches for a glass, but hovering over a few pitchers of fruitjuice, "Juice, um which flavour? Or klah?" He offers confuzedly. Kazra waves cheerily at the firelizard as she makes her way in. "Redfruit juice please, if its conventiant." she adds moving to stand beside the bar, rather unused to all this courtesy that she's getting. Cute One decides, finally, that Kazra is acceptable and curls his head back under his wing - his usual position. All is right with Pern again. Petrin selects teh appropriate pitcher and pours a large glass and moves it in front of Kazra. "Allways avaliable for a Dragonrider." Petrin replies automatically as he slects klah for himself and takes a sip neat, befor screwing up his face and adding sweetner. "You said you were getting 'visuals for Gar Hold', any particular reason?" He asks trying to sound uninterested, but sounding more unsure. Kazra takes the glass with a grateful smile, and sips. "We need to to able to travel anywhere I think is the major reason." Kazra says. "Besides." she adds with a secretive smile "I think Jo'rvik was from Gar Hold before he impressed, and this gives him the chance to visit." That unusual look of relief passes over Petrin's face again as he nods and checks, "But you'r not?" He looks a bit closer at Kazra. You notice Petrin looking at you. Kazra shakes her head. "Fraid not. Born near High Reaches Hold, and moved to the Weyr when I was 17 Turns." she gives him the very condensed history of her life. "Now I'm at Ista." Short explanation, but to the point. "And a Dragonrider." Petrin adds, happy that he can add a point, even if the point is obvious. "He voice does however not carry the usual awe, more matter of fact. "What work did you used to do?" He asks, seeminigly more interested in her previous life. "I used to be a resident there, then a nanny to the kidlets before I was Searched. " Kazra explains. "It was good preparation for the chores of candidacy." she adds. "How long have you lived at Gar can I ask?" she asks, changing the subject from questions about her. Petrin says, "Mosty of my life." Petrin replies simply, "Well, the important part. I started out in the orchards." He face softens as he remineses, looking into his mug, "Life was simpler then." He looks up and frown. "But things change." He says with barely a trace of remorse. He rubs his hand through his hair, distrubing it slightly. "Then it must be your first visit to Gar?" He asks, the penny finally dropping, "And you'r here to look around? Prehaps a tour would help?"" Kazra nods slowly along with Petrins words, deciding not to speak. "It isn't actually my first visit to Gar, but I haven't been here for at least a turn, not since I impressed Xylyth. Last time I was here, I was on my way to visit my sister at Paradise." and she chuckles. "I seem to come to Gar when the rider I'm with needs to see someone here." "Xylyth." Petrin repeats softly, nodding. "Well welcome back." He adds louder, "Always good to have a Dragonrider grace our hold. Espceially a weyrlings." He nods, then adds in explaination, "Means you'll be with us longer. Or protect out hold at least, or fly, I mean." He sips his klah to prevent himself from saying anything more. "Would you like to meet Xylyth?" Kazra offers on a complete change of subject, a slight pink colour flushing her cheeks, embarrased at the turn of the conversation. She lapses into slience as well, sipping her juice. Confusion storms across Petrin's face, and he glances toward the Kitchen as if looking for an escape. "Um no, that would be ok." He clears his throut and taps nervously on the bar top, "I think I'd be too busy, I mean I am busy, now." He moves around the bar. "But feel free to help your self to some more juice." He tries to sound polite as he backpeddles towards teh kitchen, "The yellowfuit is nice...." Is half heard as he walk out the room. Petrin wanders to the Kitchen. Kazra looks completely confused by the sudden exit of the man she was chatting to. "Whoops." she whispers to herself, before Jo'rvik sticks his head around the door. Kazra rises and hurries out. Must be time to get back to Ista again. ***Mucho travel spam and odd stuff deleted*** Esmeyath saunters with fluid grace out of the barracks. Zeja slides from Esmeyath's neck and lands gently on the ground. Northeastern Bowl The northeastern arc of the Weyr Bowl seems somewhat isolated from the rest of the weyr - with necessity, for this is the training grounds for young riders and dragons, the Weyrlings. The main entrance to the weyrling barracks is just north of here, and the ground there is well-trampled and firm, as if many feet, both human and dragon, have wandered over it dozens of times a day. Further up in the northwest corner of the bowl is the waterfall, tumbling out of the Weyr face several dragonlengths above, misting the area in a rainbow glow. On the south side of the bowl lie the ashpits and firestone supplies for the entire Weyr. It is a summer before dawn. Gliding about are Bubbly and Overture. Green Misumith, blue Lazeth, brown Xylyth, and green Esmeyath are here. You see Flamer Charging Unit here. Zeja is here. Obvious exits: Barracks Pool Path Central Bowl Sprawled out on the ground is Kazra, Xylyth lying beside her, tail over her stomach. A bugle is given in greeting to Esmeyath from Xylyth, and Kazra tries to sit up to see who her lifemate is so cheerfully greeting. Unfortunately, there happens to be a brown tail on her chest. "Hiya" she says, giving up trying to sit up and just waving a hand instead. Zeja Bright red hair recently has been cut to fold softly beneath her chin and frame her round face. The locks still hold their Ze-marking: bold streaks of glistening white occasionally line her tresses. Short bangs rest above twinkling, amused emerald green eyes, which rest against thick, black lashes. Her cream-colored skin holds occasional freckles, the most lavish spots decorating her small, pert nose and her cheeks. Full, red lips sit in a smirk, not as if she disdains those around her, but as if she is plotting some event. Curves drift along her 5'5 frame, showing ample chest and hips, the latter often accentuated by her swayed walk. Arms show sinewy muscles, which lead to long fingers with too-well-cared for, painted nails. An orange tunic bears ripped off sleeves to her shoulders. The fabric, lined with a hem of black, hangs tightly against her body. The neckline cuts low, just above her chest, and the tunic stops above her waist, tucked into and pulled out of a pair of slick black pants. These pants line her long legs, helping offer her facade of height, and lead to study black boots, the pants tucked into them. For some unknown reason, perhaps as decoration, black leather straps around her arms like extra sleeves, from just below her wrist to just above her elbow. Hovering energetically around her shoulder is Van Gogh. Perched on Zeja's shoulder is Perpetua. Sophocles attempts to burrow under the starcrafter's red tresses. Just like the rest of her attire, the knot claiming her shoulder screams orange and black, also bearing a bit of green, showing that she is a wunnerful greenling of Ista Weyr. She is awake, but has been staring off into space for 2 minutes. Carrying: Van Gogh Sophocles Perpetua Zella's Distanceviewer Zeja is 21 Turns, 2 months, and 22 days old. Esmeyath Rich ebony mixes with forest greens, giving rise to the darkness that colors her wedge-shaped head, spilling along her throat and wrapping around to color the back. Lighter, but still dark, green curls itself in the tendrils of the ebony-green to trace the contours of wingsails, ending in the faintest drops of gold at the tip of each wing. Quickness of color races across the verdant landscape to wrap itself around her the tail, mixing dark and lighter green into the harmony of dark and light. Feet are dipped in such a dark jade as to appear almost purely black, while the faintest twinge of ruby colors the tips of her toes. White-gold glitters along the tops of headknobs, curling to give the shadowed green a glimmering appearance. Gaudily wrapped around the green is a pair of bright riding straps. A shimmering pink outlines thick straps of neon orange. Despite the appearance of the straps, they serve their purpose with sturdiness. Esmeyath is 1 Turn and 13 days old. She is 38 feet (12m) long, with a wingspan of 63 feet (21m). Esmeyath seems to be listening. Zeja looks down at Kazra with an amused, lopsided grin, finally leaning directly over her, throwing in a wave, as well. "What's up?" the greenrider then asks as Esmeyath curls up behind her, her lifemate removing her shirt to do her usual bikini tan, which she does even at night. The dragon croons toward Xylyth, warbling a greeting as Zeja settles back against her. "Are you avoiding classes and firestone tossing, too?" "Good morning Zeja." Kazra greets cheerfully now that she's able to see a face. "Just relaxing." Xylyth rumbles, and Kazra adds "That and avoiding classes. And I've probably tossed enough firestone to stoke the Weyr for a Turn." Slight exageration there from the Kazra, but never mind. "How are you and Esmeyath?" Zeja laughs and nods as she resituates herself against her slightly-purring lifemate. "It's good to be able to relax-- but just imagine, we only have a few sevendays left. Esmeyath is excited for that. She can't wait to get started on wing duties." Zeja's face, however, wrinkles at that thought. She mock-flexes and grins. "We could enter in arm-wrestling contests now. And we're just fine as bubblies, thanks. Loving this Istan weather." "Its definately is nice." Kazra agrees with reference to the weather. "Better than the weather at Reaches anyway. Though I'll have to take Xylyth there when theres snow on the ground." And Xylyth rumbled his agreement with that statement. "I take it you're not as keen on wing duties as Esmeyath is then Zeja?" ***will have missed some poses here, disconnected, reconnected, forgot to start it logging again, then disconnected, then reconnected and remembered to start logging.*** Zeja laughs lightly and nods. "I'll bet Ista was an entirely different arrangement after 'Reaches, with it's warmth," she replies, shaking her head. And she probably wouldn't try to avoid any-- she'd wave them on over. "Oh, that would be nice!" Zeja replies with a grin at Kazra's suggestion. "Just for a short while, mind you. Until we can no longer feel our toes and fingers. But it would be fun, if we could make snowweyrlings and such." She grins, nodding. "Of course, so long as Esmeyath's there. What about you? Looking forward to graduation?" (re) You paged Zeja with: From afar, Kazra ponders. I think that the next time that my computer crashes I might just give up and head away. That sound okay to you? Kazra nods "Looking forward to it, but nervous, because first comes Threadfall doesn't it?" And she's heard enough stories about that to make your hair curl. "I remember one time at Reaches where the dragons did have a snowfight, funny. Massive snowballs being hit with tails. Their riders got covered with the stuff." Zeja sighs slightly as she nod, leaning back on her elbows, legs lazily extended before her as shoulders and up rest, still, against the half-lidded green. "Right... But N'ano and the others will teach us. We'll be fine." She looks toward the brown with a smile. "And Esmeyath adds that she is positive that Xylyth will be simply marvelous in flight-- Threadfall flight, that is." She giggles slightly as she props herself up better in order to see the brownrider. "Oh, that does sound like it'll be fun! We /have/ to do that. I wonder when we could..." Kazra shoots a nervous glance at Esmeyath, rememberiing something, before she grins again. "And Xylyth returns the compliement." She considers. "I'll have Xylyth keep asking for weather reports over at Reaches. We'll have to see how many of the other dragons want to join in when we get there." And finally Kazra manages to shift the tail off her chest and sit upright. Xylyth gives a disatisfied rumble and drops his tail over her legs instead. There. You're still trapped. Xylyth Rich shades of soil encompass this brown's towering and imposing form completely, intermingling to form fresh shades and fathoms of earthiness where they fuse. Pale coffee tones spill over an angular muzzle and face seemingly carved from the earth, so fine is their detail, before giving way to muddy colourings that diffuse over well built shoulders and stomach, sleek muscle visible beneath silky hide, finally darkening to almost midnight shades at sweeping wings. Woven into these depths of night, as if by unseen magic, tendrils of deepest aubergine thread their way across the tautly spread membrane, surfacing to form cryptic symbols of colour then disappearing from view once more in a ritualistic dance of hide and seek. Continuing the rhythmic flow of colours, cinnamon and chocolate mix and intermingle over powerful back legs, while hints of gold seep into the shade of a perfectly formed tail. Xylyth's first set of straps are at first apperance, simple well oiled leather, fitting in all the right places. But on closer inspection, Kazra looks to have gone strange with a needle, and purple designs twist and turn in mystical and random patterns. Running down the centre of each strap, above the purple stitching are three thin threads of black, blue and orange, almost invisible against the brown leather unless you look closely. Looks like Kazra's sewing skills are improving. Xylyth is 1 Turn and 13 days old. He is 52 feet (17m) long, with a wingspan of 86 feet (28m). Xylyth senses Kazra looking at him. Xylyth seems to be listening. Esmeyath looks positively pleased at that reply as she rearranges herself, Zeja plopping to the ground in the process. "Hey, you," Zeja grumbles with a grin as she rubs her shoulders and then leans back against her lifemate once more. "She says she thinks all the weyrlings will be lovely in Threadfall." Forcing back a giggle over the caging brown, she continues, "Oh, please do. Do they join in often-- the dragons at 'Reaches? It'd be nice to meet others there." Kazra nods solemnly. "They do join in, and quite often without their riders. One of the dragons, a brown, and don't go getting any ideas Xylyth, decided that he wanted to dance. And got stuck." she grins. "The weyrlingmasters weren't to pleased about that." Zeja laughs and shakes her head. "It's good to know Istan dragons aren't the only odd ones," she replies, skirting glances to the two present. "So do you miss it? 'Reaches, that is?" Xylyth rumbles, his tail whisking away from Kazra's legs as he manouvers to his feet. With a pointed rumble, he makes his way into the barracks, tail disappearing though the door while Kazra watches open-mouthed. "Why the..." her sentence trails off audibly, but obviosuly not mentally due to the glazed state of her eyes. "Sorry Zeja." Kazra apologises once she's finished reaming out her brown. "Xylyth has suddenly decided that he itches and wants oiled. And wants it to be done inside." she gives an apologetic smile, before rising and hurrying after her lifemate "I'll let you know about the snow." she calls back as she disappears inside. "Don't be so discourteous..." can be faintly heard. You click your heels three times. Xylyth's Curiosity Couch Material dyed a deep green hangs from hooks that are embedded in the wall, making the small alcove fairly dark, lit only by two shielded glows. Dominating the alcove is the couch for Xylyth, carved out of the stone and moulded to the contuors of all the previous draconic occupants. Beside the couch is a nest of cushions and pillows, covered in brightly coloured materials, where Kazra makes her bed. A sheet of black, blue and orange sewn together is folded neatly. Next to the nest of cushions is another cushion, this one looking rather tattered and covered in a selection of grey hairs, marking the place where Kazra's canine Gigi sleeps when she is not being looked after by one of the weyrbrats. A small chest takes up the rest of the spare space in this room, where Kazra stores her clothes and other items. The floor is usually visible, with the alcove overall being neat and tidy. It is a summer before dawn. Curled up on the chest are Emmy, Hawk, Seine, and Pyxis. Brown Xylyth is here. You see Gigi here. Obvious exits: Out *** Disconnected *** |