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Harper's Tale - Saturday, March 23, 2002,
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Living Caverns
The rough-hewn majesty of this cavern far outpaces any delight in the multitudes of curves that form its enclosure. The glabrous grey granite is shot through with translucent obsidian, lending subtly-veined sparkle to the walls and the foot-trodden smoothness of the floor that shows centuries-old placements of the scarred trestle tables; carven hollows give homes for the glow baskets and the coat-pegs that line the walls. No mosaics, no painting, no tiles: just a few well-done tapestries mark the pathway that lead to the kitchen to the north and the inner caverns to the west, and frame the nighthearth's stew and snacks, while a heavier strip of oiled canvas shields the unwary from the wind in the bowl.
Scattered about in various perches and niches are fifty-five firelizards.
You see OOC NOTICE (look sign), White Clay Egg Pot, Thief, Vtol, Boy, Siren, and Black bundle here.
Obvious exits:
Bowl     Kitchens     Inner Caverns     Crafting Area

Tatia slips in from the Central Bowl.

Tatia strides in, scowl in place. The relatively empty room is duly noted - a bad sign for Miralwyn, who attracts the greenrider's attention instantly. "You!" Tatia snaps swiftly, raising a finger to point toward the white-knoted candidate.

Miralwyn blinks, and glances up from her pile of mending with a hurried pasting of an innocent expression onto her bland face. "Yes, Tatia?" she inquires quizzically. "Is something the matter?"

"I need a candidate," Tatia points out as advancing steps carry her closer to the mending girl. "You're one. So put that junk down and get up." She doesn't add a verbal 'now', but then.. does she really need to?

Miralwyn, Good Little Candidate that she is, obeys without a whisper of furthur protest. Hey, being told to drop mending is hardly something she'll argue about. And then there's all the horror stories told in the Barracks about Kamikaze greenriders to add speed to her movements. "Very well then. You have yourself a Candidate. I stand before you to do your bidding." she intones, tone impossibly bland despite a twinkle in her eye.

Ganache blinks in from ::between::!

Tatia frowns intensely, and Miralwyn is eyed with a great amount of dubious suspicion before she nods curtly. No one ever gives in /that/ easily. Still, she has something that needs done. "All right then. Come with me," the greenrider states shortly, already turning on her heel and stalking outward.

Miralwyn maintains her air of innocence, and nods, following on Tatia's heels. Her wish is her command? For the moment. Maybe.

Tatia exchanges the protection of stone for the bowl outside.

Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds overhead, displaying a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half-mile in both directions, and though a bit of a stretch at times, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece within the middle of the otherwise vast emptiness. .
The hatching grounds and leadership weyrs are located to the north, while the lows of herdbeasts noisily allude to the feeding pens slightly east of there. Constant traffic marks the entrance to the westward living caverns, whereas a glance southeast reveals the glittering, cold lake.
It is a spring midmorning.
To the northeast, you see a blue dragon.
To the north, you see a gold and a green dragon.
To the southeast, you see a brown dragon and one person.
Above, you see a green dragon.
Clinging to footholds in the boulder-mound are twenty-three firelizards.
Green Kelitath, green Zoryanth, blue Lainnoth, brown Revnath, bronze Telynth, bronze Rixesith, brown Sevareth, bronze Jhanath, blue Wiranth, and green Miravith are here.
You see a wagonmaster, Trey's Trumbling Wagon, The Wagon of Death; Doom; and Ultimate Destruction, Duncan's Trader Wagon, The Prancing Pony, Cervantes, Grey Shadow, Rhys' Bazaar Wagon, George Dubya bush, Items for Sale, Hanabi's Uncreatively Titled Wagon, Hanabi's Order Board, and Wagon Two here.
Tatia is here.
Obvious exits:
Pens     Northern Bowl     Caverns     Ground Weyrs     Lakeside     Guards' HQ
Ganache steps out from the Weyr's living caverns.

Tatia is still frowning, but she's quite convinced that she can handle anything this candidate could possibly throw at her. "Up." she orders shortly, nodding toward Vespurath.

Miralwyn nods, and resists the urge to offer a snappy salute. Tatia likely wouldn't find it funny. She does murmur an "Aye, Ma'am," as she cimbs aboard Vespurath, offering a quick pat to the verdant hide as she settles into place.

Vespurath meanders in from the north.

"And don't ma'am me," Tatia notes sullenly as she swings up behind the candidate. "I hate that."

Tatia climbs up shadowed hide to settle between Vespurath's slender 'ridges.
You climb up shadowed hide to settle between Vespurath's slender 'ridges.

Vespurath [Central Bowl]
Malachite dredges itself up from darkest recesses of the woods, the gentle flicker of pine hiding among verdant shades of more umbrageous tones. Shadows stretch beneath the splendor of absinthe, which bursts out over slender 'ridges and wings alike while radiant pinpoints of nebulous sage are scattered like stars across the compact neck, leading up to the chiseled muzzle and capacious eyes. The illumination through the forests of hide continues down the thickset legs, leading to a set of perfect, gleaming claws. Somber tones give way to mischeviousness along the haunches and sprawling tail, midnight's refined touch changing to erratic shades, as if reflecting a child's mirth.
Leather twists and twines around green-shadowed hide. Not fussy like so many others, Vespurath's straps are simple and sturdy in ombre tints of blue, each shade flowing seamlessly into the next. The overall effect is one of deep, simple color and comfortable functionality. Buckles and rings glimmer here and there, adding the sparkle of starlight to the fading blue of the straps.
Tucked between Vespurath's 'ridges of sage is Tatia.
Vespurath seems to be listening.

Miralwyn's evil glimmer is hidden by the fact that she's in /front/ of Tatia. "Yes Ma'am." she replies, just as blandly as ever.

Ganache glides over to Vespurath to grip a slender neckridge.

Tatia's expression tightens, but she doesn't offer a swing to the back of the candidate's head. Yet. She still has use for her. And with that, Vespurath launches the pair upward to wing over the weyr.

Upper Alpine Meadows
A vast alpine meadow stretches to the foot a glacier, flanked by the flat reach of a dozen more peaks; snow lurks at the higher elevations, capping the valleys in thick, endless layers of ice and new-fallen flakes. In contrast, during the spring and summer months a carpet of wildflowers spreads over a base of springy green turf, perfect for picnics and days outdoors. A small stream runs off towards the distant weyr, running cool and clear from out of the nearby blue-toned glacier.
It is a spring midmorning.
To the west, you see a blue dragon.
Draped for sunning on the large volcanic rocks are two firelizards.
Green Alymath and green Branwyth are here.
You see Hatching Rules (read OOC) here.
Sasha is here.
Obvious exits:
Ice Caves     Glacier Stream
You land on a rolling slope, dotted by volcanic rocks.

Branwyth rumbles contentedly at that, and relaxes furthur, resting her head on her forelegs, and snuffling curiously at a passing trundlebug, looking up to offer a warm and brassy bugle to the next incoming dragon.

Miralwyn, looking rather pleased with herself at baiting Tatia and emerging scot-free... for the moment... isn't inclined to linger aboard Vespurath with a possibly cranky greenrider behind her. She soon dismounts, offering a quiet "Thank you," to the green in question, and a surprised smile to Sasha and Branwyth. "Hello again,"

Across shades of pine and sage, you slide down Vespurath's side, landing on the ground with a slight bounce.

Among Vespurath's sage-shadowed 'ridges, Good idea. Tatia slides down easily enough, ignoring the bugle of greeting that Vespurath sends toward her clutchmate. "I don't want to hear it from /you/," she snaps toward her lifemate. "You're the one who lost it in the first place. And /you/!" This time she's rounding on Miralwyn, who isn't focused enough for her tastes. "Get to work!"

Across shades of pine and sage, Tatia slides down Vespurath's side, landing on the ground with a slight bounce.

Sasha blinks and opens an eye lazily...."Tat...you lost it long ago...." she grins cheerfully as she turns and sits up, grinning in amusement at the unfolding scene.

Miralwyn lifts an eyebrow, making sure that she's out of range of fist before inquiring that "Doing What? It's rather... difficult... to work, if one does not have an assignment given." Sasha's comment prompts a distinct increase in the twinkle concentration of the HealerCandie's eyes.

Branwyth rumbles an amused agreement with her lifemate, before turning to regard the latest vict... er, Candidate to cross her path with a proprietary whuffling. She and Vespurath had the good taste to pick this one, after all.

"Don't get cheeky with me, candidate," Tatia snaps swiftly even as she turns to shoot a venomous glare toward Sasha. "Thank you for your /asute/ observation. And just what are /you/ doing up here lounging about? Don't you have something you ought to be doing?" And just as swiftly, back to Miralwyn. "Vesp lost Eitanex's stuffed canine. Somewhere." The broad expanse of the meadows is indicate with a sweep of her hand. "I need you to find it."

Miralwyn's eyebrows appear to be developing a permanent arch as she surveys the vastness of the meadow. "Begging your pardon," she drawls blandly. "But it seems that the most effective method would be to grid the meadow and have all the Candidates out looking. Acting on my own, I will no doubt take several days to comb the meadow. But," A slight shrug, and she releases her firelizards to the air. "It is your call, after all. Where was the last known location of the canine?"

Sasha chuckles slightly and an eye is flicked towards Branwyth with a knowing grin. "You could of course get everyone in the weyr to line across the meadow, use sniffer canines to comb the meadow and do arial searches on an hourly basis....Kidlets..who'd have em?"

"I don't /have/ all the candidates, and I don't /have/ sniffer canines," Tatia points out sharply. "What I /have/ is you.. and Sasha. Get up off your lazy butt and help. You're obviously not doing anything worthwhile." Hey, doesn't this sparkly knot on her shoulder mean that she can order other wings around, too?

Miralwyn sketches a low, and falsely servile bow. "As you wish, Ma'am," she intones, from a safe distance. Tatia doesn't like being called ma'am. Wyn would rather be elsewhere. Therfore, Wyn will call Tatia ma'am at every opportunity. Calling her trio of flitterbys to her arm, she inquires "Could you give me a description of the canine? As detailed as possible, if you can, Ma'am?"

Sasha drops her head back in exasperated dismay "What?? You expect me to go traipsing around the meadow on a day like this in search of a bit of fluff that your dragon just happened to drop? I think that you are pretty much drawing blanks on that possiblilty, hon!"

Sasha's outraged, Wyn's confused, and Tatia's probably pissed off. When isn't she? anyway, as a contrast, Vespurath remains aloof. The star-studded green simploy sort of stalks around the meadow, make-believing that absolutely nothing is wrong. Doobeedoo. Don't mind the dragon. She's just going to take a /niiiice/ little stroll. Probably about the only reason one might tell that she isn't quite all right is the flickering of her tail -- it's more frantic than usual. But who notices these types of things anyway?

Tatia stalks toward Miralwyn with a dangerous flash to her eyes. "Do /not/ mess with me, candidate," she hisses lowly, one finger lifting to jab toward the girl's chest. "I can make your life very, very painful between now and the hatching." With a faint smirk, she spins on her heel, certain that the candidate will appologize imediately and begin sweeping the meadows. Sasha, however, is another story. "Yes, I do. And if you know what's good for you, you will, before I have to stop by your wingleader's weyr and report your idleness. Get up and /help/ me!" Ooo, pointless threats. Always a good manoveur. "And Vespurath. Get /BACK/ here! We are /looking/ for the toy /you/ lost and the toy Eitanex /refuses/ to sleep without. /You/ are looking, too." Ring a bell?

Sasha grins lightly but is not going to be threatened. And do you think that I would be here spending the day here if I had not been sent here for some reason? " And Sash is not about to enlighten her clutchmate...her irritation is far too amusing. "Have you considered getting another canine /exactly/ the same?

Excuse me? What is that Vesp just heard? Was than an /order/? Sa/weeet/. That means she can ignore it. The green's head perks up, much like a canine's -- a canine who thinks she's been misbehaving. A truly innocent look -- if dragons can really look innocent -- is flashed Tatia's direction. Oooooh. Vespurath's good at that one. Apparently something is projected at the green's rider, for she tosses her head and continues to stalk wherever she pleases.

Miralwyn is jabbed accordingly. Ouch! Hey, now she's got a war story to swap with Sikkyen later. But apologize? Wyn... doesn't do those very well. She does, however, condescend to back down on the Ma'am-ing, and instead offer a tolerably sweet smile, confident that she's gotten Tatia's goat. Or caprine, to be properly Pernish about it. "Yes Tatia," she sparkles. "Can you tell me what the canine looks like," For the third time.

And Branwyth? Branwyth hums happily, and abandons her spot of sunlight to loom lovingly above her rider, trampling neatly over Tatia's figurative line in the sand and offering an ingenuous whirl of blue-green eyelight.

Fortunately for Miralwyn, Tatia is swiftly occupied with ordering someone else around. That someone, apparently, being Vespurath. "If you /dare/ walk away from me..." she begins in a low growl before trailing off into a glare that speaks volumes. Literally. Mindspeak, you know. Miralwyn is simply eyed. "It /looks/ like a canine," she sputters impatiently. "And I don't care /what/ you are up here to do.. you're going to help me!" That to Sasha. No limits to her growling tonight.

Vespurath begins to look even /more/ mischevious, that /glint/ to her whirling sapphire optics. Branwyth and her adventures with the line go unseen by the green, for she is prancing away. Well, prancing until whatever it is Tatia mindspeaks with that glare of hers. Anyhow, star-touched dragon begins to slow, drop her head, and trudge back toward her rider with a properly bashful expression on her features. Now the question is, why is she so repentant? The world may never know.

Sasha shifts her weight and gets up from her comfortably rumpled blanket. Affecting the gait of a holdergirl at her first gather she tiptoes through the long grass and gingerly picks up a stick.."Ooooooooh! Whats this...is this what you wanted? " looking suitably pathetic she looks at her prize.. "Its very nice...no? Oh..." and then holding up her imaginary skirts she proceeds to mince her way through the most pathetic attempt at a hunt ever concieved by evil greenrider in full tease mode..

Miralwyn, despairing of extracting any furthur information from Tatia, offers a longsuffering sigh, and proceeds to conference with her firelizards. Leaving the simple bribe of images suggesting that the flitter who finds it first will get the contents of her juerky pouch to themself, a winged flurry takes off from her, zipping about like mad vtols while the Candidate in question begins poking in clumps of rockery, abandoning the short grass and mosses of the meadow as incapable of hiding a canine.

Tatia stalks toward Sasha the instant her glaring-speech at Vespurath is finished. "Yessss," she hisses, making a swipe for teh stick. "This is /exactly/ what I was looking for." Dear me. Did Sasha /really/ just give Tat a /weapon/? "And I'll /use/ it if you don't take this seriously. Or maybe I'll just make /you/ sit up with Eitanex while he refuses to sleep." Ohhh.. which threat is worse?"

Thats it...all colour drains from Sasha's face and with efficient precision she curtly drops all pretence. "I'll start over here..we'll find it if it kills me!" And with that she begins to make orderly sweeping movements across the field.

Branwyth, attempting to preserve her hard earned right to slacking in the sunshine, finds herself abruptly alone. With a decidedly peeved glint to her eye, the darkling green rises, and stalks over to snuffle about for traces of toy canine.

Vespurath continues to look downright pathetic. And people wonder how Vesp manages to walk over a person as strong as Tatia. She drags her tail, even, as she shuffles dejectedly around the meadow, half-heartedly turning over rocks with her nose. If she could sniffle and squeeze a tear out, she probably would. Ah, to be human.

"Ahhah!" escapes from Miralwyn, as she uncovers something vaguely fuzzy. Her triumph falters as she picks up a stick to poke at her prize, revealing a sweater that appears to have been buried under snow for the majority of a Reaches winter, and then thawed in the spring. Nose wrinkles at a ripe odour rising from it. "Ah, might this belong to either of you?"

What people wonder that? Oh.. those people who mistakenly think Tat's anger is /strength/ rather than just general frustration with a world full of stupid people. "Quit complaining and look," Tatia orders aloud this time, shooting an irritated glance toward her lifemate. At least the guilt-trip halted. She stalks toward Miralwyn, head poking downward toward the candidate's prize. "Ah.. actually.. I think that belongs to.. erm. Just give it to me." So said hurriedly, with no mention of topless Tsunami-wannbes.

With the precision of a guards organised exercise, Sash has covered the field in record time shaking her head slightly as she goes...."No...no..no...no...it is not happening...no...." As she passes the disgruntled group and continues upwards to the higher slopes.

Vespurath continues with her dejection, apparently going on the vague hope that Tatia will look her way and see how miserable she's made her poor lifemate. Topless Tsunami-wannabes aside, the green isn't likely to find the thing,s eeing as how she's going in circles, turning over stones and then replacing them as she returns on her circular route. Smart one, isn't she?

Branwyth pauses momentarily, regarding the Candidate's find with the hope that perhaps the task might be over before her sunlight vanishes. And then, with a draconic sigh that sets grasses to waving, she's on her way again, tagging along after Sasha with a dogged determination not to be left behind if her rider should think of a way out of this.

Miralwyn gingerly offers the sodden sweater on the very edge of her stick, seeking no furthur contact with the thing until it's been soaked in a good /vat/ of redwort wash. "There, take it and be happy with it," she notes with grim fascination, before returning to poking at likely looking rocks.

Tatia doesn't notice Vespurath - not the dejection, not the circle. Nothing. Poor unloved green. She's busy taking the Tsunami-wannabe's sweater with a ginger hand, nose wrinkled. "Erm.. right. Thanks," she replies before her eyes finally flicker toward said dejected lifemate. That weepy mindvoice is hard to resist. And Tat's starting to look a bit.. guilty? "No, love.. you're fine, honestly. I just want to find the sharding toy, that's all."

Vespurath halfhearted circles get smaller and smaller until the green flops to the soggy meadow in a heap of dejection. Aw. How...cute? Eyelids drowse shut -- that was hard work! Sheesh. Of course, this coming from a green who can zip here and there and /everywhere/ during Fall. Go figure.

Sasha's brow furrows noticeably deeply as she returns to the group slowly. "Darn it...Farnath save me....." she grumbles unhappily as she reaches Tatia's side.........and stops.......dead.

Miralwyn overhears Tatia's side of the mental conversation, and her features suddenly twitch with grim amusement before settling into serenity again. More poking with the stick prompts a threatening his from a burrow bearing a tunnelsnake resident, and she retreats with undignified haste. Her firelizard aerial contingent has by now given up, and is instead swooping about the pair of green dragons, chittering indecipherable and addleheaded gossip. Sigh.

Tatia isn't paying a bit of attention to Sasha. She's rather too busy staring at Vespurath. "We haven't /found/ it yet, Vesp. Get /up./ I'm sharding tired of being tired, and I'm afraid of what K'nex will do to me if I drop Eitanex into his lap like this." Right. Tat's afraid. More likely she's punishing her lifemate for losing the thing. "If we don't find it /now/, I swear, you're still getting no klah. But you're a lovely lifemate." Added to stay off future guilt-tripping. Good thing she's not watching Miralwyn. The candidate might be in extreme danger here.

At least Tatia has the willpower to get her lifemate up. Or maybe she has all along and just hasn't exerted it? Either way, Vesp is hauling herself up, fighting the gravity of Pern as if it's some heavyworld equivalent. Trudge, trudge, trudge. See what you're making her do, Tatia? You're brekaing her spirit! Or so she would like you to think...

And, like the typically child-mannered green that she is, the firelizards quick distract her and she takes to lifting her head, attempting to get in their flightpatterns and warblecrooning quite contentedly. This /is/ a fun game!

Sasha is just standing quietly behind and to one side of Tatia listening to her spiel and allowing a slow grin to creep idly across her face. Reaching quietly over to her friend's pocket she retireves a hastily stowed riding glove and...whats this??? Its small..its soft...its brown...it sure as heck isn't chopped liver.....

Miralwyn, still shaken from the discovery of tunnelsnakes, nonetheless has managed to creep within visual range of Sash and Tat, grey eyes widening at the sight of something fuzzy emerging from said rider's pocket. Prudence dictates that the revalation of the canine's location should best be observed from a safe distance, and so the Candie doubles back to lurk on the other side of Vespurath.

Willpower? Is /that/ what you call this? Yes, Tatia is the devil. We all know this. Vesp really doesn't need to point it out again. "You can stop looking at me like that," the greenrider chides, still oblivious to Sasha's prescence. "I'm not the one who lost it.. and I /am/ the one who has to deal with a child who refuses to sleep without the thing and who has been /screaming/ about it for the past hour." Tatia almost sounds guilty as she offers a swift explanation.. before Vespurath's words. "No. /No/." And now she's hissing again. Joy. "THere will be /no/ new Hermies. No!" And no comment on K'nex's parenting skills.

Branwyth amuses herself as well, snorting puffs of air at the flittering firelizards in an attempt to send them into flat spins, and possibly make them hit the ground. Childlike amusement isn't shared. No, this is the more dark and acerbic humour of the Mistletoe Green. She's completely given up searching for the canine, though, whether in response to some silent word from Sasha, or just the fact that she can blame Vespurath for distracting her is unknown.

Sasha unnoticed, begins to toss the small brown object carelessly up and down, casting a wry grin at Vespurath, Miralwyn and Branwyth. Her shoulders shake with silent laughter and she tilts her head to one side in query as she murmurs..."Bad Vesp...how irresponsible of you to be the one to lose something soooo important!"

Pout. Pout. That means they now /have/ to find the canine, for it's even /more/ out of the question for Tatia to get Eitanex a new one. A new one would set the precedent and they'd be able to get a new Hermie. Which Tatia quite obviously doesn't want. Anyhow, Vesp will continue to cavort about, chasing the 'lizards -- that is, until Sasha gives her a Look. Looks are never any good. The green pauses, cocking her head to the side and snaking her tail around to tug at Tat's foot. This way, maybe she can get some of the credit for the discovery.

Discovery? What discover... oh. With the tug at her feet, Tatia spins around, and her eyes go suddenly wide as she stares at Sasha. "You.. where... how /dare/ you steal my child's toy!" Tatia suddenly exploads in accusation, eyes flaring as she marches toward her clutchmate, swipes the canine away from her. "Come on, Vesp. We're /going/. Where we can /trust/ people." A pointed glare at Sasha - after all, Tat didn't lose it. Sash stole it. And then she's swinging up to mount. Hmph.

Miralwyn in ordinary circumstances would blithely jump in and clarify the situation, with a heavy dose of irony. But, since Tatia looks about a hair's breadth from committing assault, she'll just stand off to one side and poke at rocks again, looking decidedly bemused.

Sasha chuckles and picks up the second riding glove that has dropped from Tatia's pocket to the ground. Witha good humoured smile she hands it upwards to Ganache, who delivers it back to Tatia, emitting a shrill cheep. "I'd get some deeper pockets, Tatia...you never know when they will come in handy...." And Sash knows that Tatia knows the truth.

Whoohoo! A croon of what can only be triumph exits the star-steckled dragon's mouth. No, she has no control. She's childish, what do you want? See, this wya, she's completely wiped clean of any guilt of losing the thing -- if she had any in the first place -- /and/ she's credited with the discovery of the one who did. Life is /good/. Tatia swings up to mount and Vespurath ducks to allow her to, all in one smooth movement. When you've been a pair as long a they have, it becomes second nature. Already, the fidgety green is crouching, ready to take off, saving her lifemate from the horrors of betrayal. Or something.

Tatia actually has the grace to blush as her glove is handed upward, but she's certainly not about to offer an appology. Instead, lips press tightly together and she glowers down from Vespurath's neck. Home, James.

Tatia climbs up shadowed hide to settle between Vespurath's slender 'ridges.

James? Good thing Tat didn't say that out loud...Vespurath is much to pretty to be called James.
Vespurath bunches powerful muscles, wings pumping with strength, before leaping into the air.