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Harper's Tale 2 - Friday, May 31, 2002, 9:03 PM
-----------------------------------------------

You soar in for a landing on Urzketh's ledge.

Urzketh's Balcon en Cristal
The faintest of light sparkles off this ledge, scattered veins of amethyst-hued quartz intersecting in random, striated patterns upon the rocky surface. An overhang of rock provides shelter from summer's intense rays and winter's blinding storms; beneath the overhang twirls a 'windchime' that tinkles and chimes with each delicate breeze that wafts by. A few wooden chairs surround a natural outcropping which forms a 'table' of sorts, a fine place for impromptu guests to enjoy the amazing view of the lake below. Near the entrance to the weyr, a few copper hooks are driven into the wall with various straps hanging upon them, all black and emblazoned with the symbol of their wearer. Across the entrance to the weyr proper lies a 'curtain' of multi-hued amethyst beads which dance amidst the sun's warm caresses, adding their own music to that of the windchimes.
It is a winter afternoon. It has finally stopped snowing. The sky still seems a featureless white, with thick stratus clouds obliterating the sun. The air is cold but not unbearably so, with all the cloud cover.
Inside the weyr, you see one person.
Blue Urzketh and blue Vorkoroth are here.
Obvious exits:
Weyr

Slithering down the straps-ladder, Wyn slides from Vorkoroth's neck and gently touches earth.

Urzketh eats Vorkoroth.
Vorkoroth causes Urk indigestion.

You part the cascading strands of amethyst beads as you head into the depths of the weyr.
Maison en Cristal des Desirs
The flickering of hundreds of tiny glows maintains a theme throughout this surritious weyr, light casting faint shadows upon the walls of this cozy little cavern and illuminating the stunning 'panorama' of a summer's starlit sky that races across the ceiling above. Rugs of various shades of indigo, sage, and burgundy lie scattered about to protect one's feet from the cold of the stone, the occasional fur lending a luxurious touch. A welcoming 'hearth' lies towards the rear with various comfy chairs, smallish couch, and low 'table' lying before it to provide an entertaining area for guests of the bluerider. Shelves are tacked along the left side of the weyr, containing various 'knicknacks' of personal value to Fyria; beneath the shelves is an old, wooden 'desk' sent from her home hold of Lemos. Off to the right lies a large shallow, smooth depression lined with furs and blankets, obviously where Urzketh spends most of his sleeping time. The most notable feature of the weyr are the magnificent natural striations of amethyst quartz that run along the cavern's walls --almost like lightning, they catch the light to shatter it into shards of crystalline iciness.
On the ledge, you see two blue dragons.
Settled quietly above the hearth are three firelizards.
You see Fyr's Rucksack, Dry organic waste, and Wooden Desk here.
Fyria is here.
Obvious exits:
Piscine en Cristal     Ledge     Chambre en Cristal

Fyria is humming somewhat quietly to herself, facing the rack of shelves against the wall as she rearranges a few things, steps back, frowns, then moves to rearrange them again. A pot of klah sits bubbling on the hearthfire, a single mug set upon the low coffee table in front of it.

An encouraging rumble from out on the ledge precedes a quiet alto greeting from the direction of the exit to the ledge, Wyn on a mission from Vorkoroth to fledge out her nebulous social skills. "Hello... Fyria?"

Fyria perks a brow at her name, though Urzketh's finally learnt the fine art of warning his lifemate of impending visitors. Thus, her face bears a smile as she turns towards Wyn, quickly strolling over to give her a warm, welcoming hug. "Wyn! Well it's about time you and Vorkoroth came to visit..." She waves a hand towards the couch even as she hunts for a second mug. "Have a seat, the klah's almost ready..."

Wyn tugs off her gloves, and stows them neatly in a pocket of her leathers, scuffing her feet a moment, before venturing the rest of the way into the weyr, a most promising bulge in the jacket pulled out to reveal a wineskin, identifiable as Benden Private Reserve by the markings. "Ah yes," she allows. "I rather suppose it is. Vorkoroth was quite adamant about it, as a matter of fact. I do like what you've done with the place," she offers, before somewhat awkwardly extending the wineskin. "Ah, here. Happy weyrwarming, or whatever the proper phrase is. It's a good vintage."

Fyria's eyes light up with pleasure at seeing the bottle, fingers grasping the neck and turning it with an obvious look of approval on Fy's face. "Well, you've outdone yourself, Wyn! Thanks...we'll save this for when we've a crowd gathered to appreciate the stuff." Setting the bottle on a shelf, she goes over and pours two mugs of klah, returning to hand one to Wyn with a wink. "Thanks. I'm still in the midst of rearranging, and of course Urzketh thinks I'm totally insane." A following rumble from the ledge confirms this, as does Fy's eyeroll. "Sweetening and milk are there if you need 'em. How's your weyr coming along?"

"Black suits me admirably, thanks," replies Wyn, taking her mug and nursing it briefly, before perching on the nearest handy seat. "And I rather think that all dragons find their lifemates a trifle on the odd side. My weyr is fairly close to completion. I've finished refinishing my chairs and tables now, so once I manage to settle on a Weaver for my tapestries, I should be finished. Perhaps a few more throw pillows."

Fyria nods as she blows on her hot klah, the steam curling into faint wisps which float in the air. "I thought about tapestries myself, but after seeing these walls," and she turns her gaze upon the various striations which twinkle in the glowlight. "I thought 'why cover natural beauty?'. So my walls will be bare, though the ceiling.." One hand points upwards, indicating Wyn to glance up as well. "That stays."

Wyn nods. "We're not having too many," she replies on the matter of tapestries, grey gaze obligingly following Fyria's gesture. "Simply two tall, thin ones on either side of the hearth to emphasize the height if the ceiling, and draw the eye to its lines." And We've got Wyn talking like a decorator again. She silences, however, as the effect of the ceiling sinks in. An appreciative "Ahhh..." follows.

Fyria blinks at Wyn with a faint smile, one slender finger waggling at her clutchmate. "If I didn't know any better, Wyn, I'd say you've a bit of a decorator's streak in you." She rises then, sweeping her hand out around the weyr. "Have I given you the grand tour, and showed you the ultimate surprise I found when I moved in?"

Wyn offers a faint laugh in reply. "Oh, you call it correctly," she admits. "I have a decorator's streak in that I know what I like, if you want to call it that. But no," she comments, nursing her mug of klah. "This is the first time that Vorkoroth's convinced me to go visiting, so by all means, tour away."

Fyria nods her head and rises, heading towards the direction of the bathing pool. Parting yet another beaded curtain with her hand, she steps aside with a nod to Wyn. "After you, my dear. The crowning glory of this little weyr lies just beyond." Even as she speaks, a faint scent of lavender drifts outwards, along with a hint of moisture from the water within.

Wyn sniffs lightly, before nodding appreciatively, and rising to follow Fyria, her mug still cradled in one hand. "I can hadly wait to see this wonder," she drawls, trotting along and ducking through the beads.

Fyria parts the sparkling curtain of crystalline light as she enters the bath, revealing a glimpse of the pool beyond.
You part the sparkling curtain of crystalline light, catching the scent of sage and rosemary as you enter the bathing room.

Piscine en Cristal
This small, cozy cavern's centerpiece is the pool of crystal clear water within the center of the floor, ringed by a starburst pattern of violet and indigo. Along the wall runs a series of wood slats driven into the stone; upon these slats sits row upon row of tiny, clear glows which provide a soft, hazy light for the bathing pool. Two wooden benches lie next to the far wall, bearing stacks of soft, plush towels and cozy, fluffy robes for the pool's occupants. Near the pool's edge is a large woven basket containing satchels of sweetsand in varying scents, vials of scented massage oils, and soft seasponges. The soft, feminine scent of lavender, rosemary, and sage drifts lightly through the air, adding a calming, almost romantic feel to the atmosphere of the bath.
It is a winter sunset.
Fyria is here.
Obvious exits:
Weyr

Fyria gives Wyn a wink as she walks into the bathing cavern, waving her hand with a little, extravagant bow. "Tada. Welcome to my little piece of privacy, known as my own bathing pool." Okay, so she gloats /just/ a wee bit. Can you blame her?

"Faranth's great golden forearm," is Wyn's reverent oath. "I can see why you haven't been seen outside your weyr much lately, during your time home" she allows. Or outside Kh'ryn's weyr, or... But Wyn's not one to gossip, after all. "Yes, this is certainly worth bragging over."

Fyria is quite pleased by Wyn's reaction, even as she herself scans the bathing room. "I'll take that as an approval, Wyn." She points out the various decor in the room, only to give hre a quick wink. "Yep. Can you blame me, especially in all this cold?" And as for Kh'ryn, well...we won't go there. Yet. Though Fy's been there. Multiple times.

Well, at least until Wyn's curiosity gets the better of her, we won't. A dryly amused nod. "You may take it as that," she agrees, before flickering an eyebrow. "So... any plans for weyrwarmings, oh Wingleader?" Wyn's not much of a party animal, obviously, but parties are excellent sources of people-watching amusement.

Fyria rolls her eyes at the title 'wingleader', one hand waving at Wyn with mock annoyance. "Oh will you cut it out, Wyn. We're /clutchmates/...the whole wingleader thing is...well.." Okay, so it /is/ a big deal. Shaking her head, she beckons Wyn to follow her once more. "I'll show you the sleeping alcove, though be forewarned. I think Kare's still in there, asleep. Just poke your head in."

Fyria reluctantly parts the curtain of crystalline beads, leaving a soft tinkling sound in her wake.
Reluctantly, you part the curtain of crystalline beads, a soft chiming sound left in your wake.

Maison en Cristal des Desirs
The flickering of hundreds of tiny glows maintains a theme throughout this surritious weyr, light casting faint shadows upon the walls of this cozy little cavern and illuminating the stunning 'panorama' of a summer's starlit sky that races across the ceiling above. Rugs of various shades of indigo, sage, and burgundy lie scattered about to protect one's feet from the cold of the stone, the occasional fur lending a luxurious touch. A welcoming 'hearth' lies towards the rear with various comfy chairs, smallish couch, and low 'table' lying before it to provide an entertaining area for guests of the bluerider. Shelves are tacked along the left side of the weyr, containing various 'knicknacks' of personal value to Fyria; beneath the shelves is an old, wooden 'desk' sent from her home hold of Lemos. Off to the right lies a large shallow, smooth depression lined with furs and blankets, obviously where Urzketh spends most of his sleeping time. The most notable feature of the weyr are the magnificent natural striations of amethyst quartz that run along the cavern's walls --almost like lightning, they catch the light to shatter it into shards of crystalline iciness.
On the ledge, you see two blue dragons.
To the south, you see one person.
Settled quietly above the hearth are three firelizards.
You see Fyr's Rucksack, Dry organic waste, and Wooden Desk here.
Obvious exits:
Piscine en Cristal        Ledge     Chambre en Cristal

"Important to you," finishes Wyn with a Mindhealer's smile. "You needn't play falsely modest around me, wingmate of mine. Lylia certainly made you work hard enough for it." And then she nods and lowers her tone to a quiter one, not wishing to wake sleeping weyrhealers.

You gently swim through the floundering strands of crystalline light, stepping into the small sleeping alcove.

Chambre en Cristal
Row upon rows of glowlights twinkle softly around the tiny sleeping alcove, lending a soft, shimmery light to dance upon the stone walls. The crowning centerpiece is a huge wooden four-poster bed, carved with tiny firelizards encircling the posts --a gift from Fyria's parents at Lemos. Light, airy gauze hangs down from the ceiling in a hazy curtain around the bed; the edges are lined with tiny, starlit crystal beads that sparkle faintly in the light. The bed itself is covered with soft, velvety furs, wickedly luxurious to the touch; pillows and sheets are a simple pale blue, silky soft with a few accent pillows in violet and sage scattered about. The only other addition is a small wooden table near the bed; upon this lies a small vase filled with rosemary and lavender herbs that lend a soothing, calming scent to the air.
You notice Kariel asleep here.
Fyria is here.
Obvious exits:
Weyr

Fyria shhhs softly, giving Wyn a wink as she points to the breathing lump of weyrhealer on her bed. "My second favourite cavern," she whispers. "And that's about it, to be honest. come on...we can sit in the main weyr." Turning on a heel, she shluffs off towards the couch near the hearth.

With a gentle motion, you part the strands of crystalline light, making your way back to the weyr itself.
Maison en Cristal des Desirs
The flickering of hundreds of tiny glows maintains a theme throughout this surritious weyr, light casting faint shadows upon the walls of this cozy little cavern and illuminating the stunning 'panorama' of a summer's starlit sky that races across the ceiling above. Rugs of various shades of indigo, sage, and burgundy lie scattered about to protect one's feet from the cold of the stone, the occasional fur lending a luxurious touch. A welcoming 'hearth' lies towards the rear with various comfy chairs, smallish couch, and low 'table' lying before it to provide an entertaining area for guests of the bluerider. Shelves are tacked along the left side of the weyr, containing various 'knicknacks' of personal value to Fyria; beneath the shelves is an old, wooden 'desk' sent from her home hold of Lemos. Off to the right lies a large shallow, smooth depression lined with furs and blankets, obviously where Urzketh spends most of his sleeping time. The most notable feature of the weyr are the magnificent natural striations of amethyst quartz that run along the cavern's walls --almost like lightning, they catch the light to shatter it into shards of crystalline iciness.
On the ledge, you see two blue dragons.
To the south, you see one person.
Settled quietly above the hearth are three firelizards.
You see Fyr's Rucksack, Dry organic waste, and Wooden Desk here.
Obvious exits:
Piscine en Cristal     Ledge     Chambre en Cristal

Fyria sashays and shimmies her....self in from the Chambre en Cristal.

Wyn is smiling with quiet amusement as she pads out after Fyria, returning to perch on the seat she'd vacated earlier. "Well, I must say congratulations to you on a fine weyr," she allows. "Mine has size going for it, but I do believe yours qualifies as cozier." Although Wyn, personally, rather likes the ascetic look. Aside from her personal horde of pillows.

Fyria nods her thanks as she leans back onto a cushion, looking thoughtfully at the bluerider. "I'm definitely going to hold an official weyrwarming party (note, different from a weyr /christening/ party), so keep your eyes open. It'd be a shame /not/ to have a party in here." Or a bordello, to boot.

Make it both? Hey, if weyrs are supposed to be centres of debauchery and liscentiousness to the Holdbred, one wouldn't want to disappoint them. "Then you'll find me as one of your guests," allows Wyn. "Sii'kyn and Lhana have informed me that I'll be holding one of my own, so I do believe I ought to go to a few and see how they're organized."

"And I'd have to agree with them that the idea is fabulous, in itself. So in actuality, this means we'll have a good two sevendays of partying to look forward to?" Fy quirks a grin, followed by a loud, huge yawn. "Shells...I think I overdid it today. Never knew this all would be so /exhausting/..." Setting her empty mug on the table, she flops onto the couch with an audible oof.

Wyn looks curiously from over the rim of her mug, and seems about to say something, but some bit of good manners closes her mouth on the words. A few more sipsof the black klah are taken, before she pauses again, and this time permits to curiosity to get the better of her. "Ah well," she notes quietly, with a cautious glance towards the curtained off sleeping area. "From what I've had told to me, you've been rather... busy..."

Fyria catches that look, flushing a rather lovely shade of crimson along the edges of her tunic. "And what's that supposed to mean, hmm?" she teases, giving Wyn a wink. "You know, I think you need to get yourself one of those, my dear." And Fyria doesn't mean just a healer. Though they /are/ rather nice, in her personal opinion, biased as it is. "Just wait till Vork chases. You'll be just as busy, for sure." Wink.

"Oh undoubtedly," agrees Wyn simply. "Although really, Fy, my bed is not as cold as you seem to think it is..." And now it's time for the bland bluerider to offer a shiver of a wink. "And as for what my comment meant... I believe your blush explained it quite nicely, my dear. Although if you want some unsought advice..." Another quick glance towards Kariel's sleeping place. "You'll want to have a care about whose dragons see you leaving from a supposed tryst, or you'll have an upset weyrhealer on your hands. Vorkoroth is reasonably discreet, for a dragon, but many are not. and it only takes one well meaning person to let slip the wrong word..."

Wyn raises a calmly placating hand and finishes the rest of her klah. "Don't bite at /me/, Fy. /I/ certainly don't care to tell you how to manage your lovelife. But I'd much rather not have to cover for you on duties if you suddenly have your personal life collapse and bury you." Eyes unfocus as the latest bulletin from Vorkoroth arrives, and she sets her empty mug down, tugging her gloves back on. "Ah, I'm being summoned. Apparently S'titch wants to redecorate my weyr while I'm out.

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