Above the Hold, Sierrath emerges from *between*. Above the Hold, Sierrath wings downwards to the main courtyard of the Hold. Sierrath wings in from the
Sierrath flies down gracefully into the courtyard of Fort Hold. He crowds himself as best as he can into the limited space, though little, soft appologetic rumbles emerge from the old brown dragon's throat.
Sivilen pauses in his trek across the courtyard as the dragon lands. A quick glance assures him there're few others to do the pair honors, so he nods courteously and calls, "Good evening, sir!"
G'thon hops down and rakes his hands through his hair, grunting, "Even'." He looks around the hold. "Why wasn't that Watchrider there to greet me?" He frowns, "Just wait until I tell M'kal about this. I bet that it was that old fool, R'velin up there, sparing that brownrider who was transfered here." He grunts again and then turns on Sivilen. "Do you know?"
Sivilen blinks and shakes his head, "No, Sir. I'm just one of the stablehands. I don't know much about the watchrider."
G'thon ahhs and nods, saying "Well, you won't do me any good then." he grunts in disatisfaction, "I don't suppose you can double as a errand boy, can you?" His head tilts. The brown dragon beside him looks uncomfortable, squeezed onto the courtyard and rumbles plaintively.
Sivilen glances at the hall doors, then back to the rider. He nods hesitantly, but his tone is more sure, "I'd be happy to, Sir."
G'thon nods and then says "Well, that'd be good if I had a message to deliver. I suppose you're not all waste then." He guffaws and then says, "So if you're a stablehand, what are you doing in the courtyard of this hall, or are you a stablehand for somewhere entirely different?" Then he muses "Unless you're here to meet travelers and help them settle their runners in. Oh never mind my question." He says in disgust. "It was stupid."
Sierrath nudges his head out, neck snaking forward, tail uncoiling. He rumbles curiously as he inspects the young man his rider converses with. He shows no other interest than mild curiosity.
Sivilen keeps an eye on the brown and straightens up as he comes under inspection. The young man answers, with a hint of a cocky grin, "Sometimes they let me out of the stables, Sir. And I was just heading out after some supper."
G'thon ahhs understandingly. "Well then, I suppose thats an adequate excuse for not doing your work, right?" A bare hint of a smile crosses the older man's face. "Well I'd have to say..." And suddenly he stops talking, frowning.
Sierrath continues to nudge forward, and has for a few moments now. He's edged past G'thon and extended his snout to inspect Sivilen close up, as it were with a whirl of glowing eyes. G'thon looks startled. "Well I suppose I'd have to say it was fortitous."
Sivilen's eyes widen and he looks like he'd desperately like to back up, but he doesn't. "Fortu...what? Sir?" He darts a glance over at the brownrider for just a moment."
G'thon rubs his grizzled chin. "Well, it seems like my dragon here, finds you interesting." The dragon croons softly in counterpoint to the brownrider's words and scoots a bit closer to Sivilen. "He wants me to ask you to come back to Fort Weyr and stand as a Canidate."
Sivilen looks shocked for a long moment, and seems unable to answer. But then he dredges up a charming smile, "Well! I'd hate to disappoint him!" He runs a hand along the short hair on his head.
G'thon nods and says "Good. We don't like being disappointed, I must tell you." He gestures impaitently. "Well, why aren't you running off to get your things already? " He flickers a very brief smile.
Sivilen nods, "Oh! Yes!" He hesitates just a moment more, then runs out of the courtyard. He's gone some minutes, and when he returns, is accompanied by a large, smiling older woman, their arms linked. She appears to be talking forcefully, despite her grin. As the two come within earshot, the last sentances can be heard, "So you behave, young man! Have fun. We all wish you luck and love you." She stops and kisses his cheek, then sends him on his way. "I'm all ready, Sir!" The straps of a small bag are looped over both shoulders.
G'thon nods and then says "Know how to get on a dragon?" He says, turning to do just that, but pausing just in case.
Sivilen's grin fades as he looks /up/ at the huge creature. He shakes his head mutely.
G'thon nods and walks over and says "I'll give you a boost up." He smiles wryly and cups his hands together, "Be prepared to grab those straps and heave up." He adds as he leans near the dragon.
Sivilen nods obediently and reaches up to grab for the straps.
G'thon gives Sivilen a boost as soon as he steps into the cupped hands.
Sierrath Dry-hued brown hide is supple beneath your seat. The muscles in this dragon flex and ripple with any movement, making the hide seem to be a grassy plain of golden-brown grass. The dragon is currently wearing his riding harness. It has been dyed a deep green like the pine needles of an evergreen tree. ( type 'dhelp' for a list of available commands ) Contents: G'thon
Sivilen settles a little stiffly, making a move to pat the dragon. He seems to think better of treating the awesome creature like a runner, and pulls his hand back.
G'thon secures Sivilen and makes sure "You've your master's permission, or your superior, whomever you're working under?"
Sivilen nods quickly, "I checked with the stablemaster." He grins, "And my fostermother seems happy to have me out of the Hold."
G'thon nods his head "Then off we go."
You wing upwards to the open sky above the Hold.
Sky over Fort Hold(#297RL)
The deep trenches of the fireheights gleam stonily, their paths
picked clear of moss by daring Hold children. Below them, the
sharp cliff of Fort Hold curves around in a protective embrace,
including Hold and Hall in its generous sweep. From this angle,
the all-too-bumpy stones of the road to the Weyr blur into one
dark ribbon across the landscape, while tiny tributaries of roads
lead to the many farms which supply the Hold. The neat stone quadrangle
of the Harper and Healer Hall squats across the clearing from
the more imposing structure of the guard towers and courtyard,
and the occasional dab of blue or purple can be seen racing hither
or thither on important errands. Tiny slits of windows face west
from the Hold and southeast from the Hall, while the drumheights
soar above all other windows. Sometimes the air resounds with
the thudding of message drums. Obvious exits:
Southeast Lake
Lake's Edge
Gather Grounds
Courtyard
Fireheights
Fort Sweep Area
From outside Sierrath, Sierrath disappears into *between*.
Upper Sky - Fort Weyr(#197RVh)
Lower Bowl Sky - Fort Weyr
Northeast Bowl - Fort Weyr(#117RIJL)
From outside Sierrath, Sierrath lands gently before the living caverns and fans his wings, placing them at his sides before emitting a loud croon to Nuadath and Ceristh.
Sivilen looks down and swallows audibly. Then he gamely swings his legs over and pushes off.
You climb down to the ground.
Northeast Bowl - Fort Weyr(#117RIJL)
G'thon remarks "This is the Weyr, that there is the senior queen dragon, and the weyrleader's bronze." He gestures to gold and bronze respectively. "Follow me."
G'thon walks off eastwards to the bright and cheerful living caverns. G'thon