Fort Weyr - Library Archives
Surviving the ages is something that books are known to do, especially if they are left untouched for just as long. In this room, that's exactly what has happened. Put aside as trivial information or simply determined old enough to not impact present day life, these numerous articles stored in ceiling high shelves are the forgotten histories belonging to Fort.
Miraculously, the design of the room itself has prevented any of the books from damage. The rock base of which the room's foundation is actually one of the toughest rock known to man and cannot be surpassed by any creature living, while a layer of tiles of the smoothest stone gives this room a vibrant and mysterious appeal. The door itself on the room was sealed tight and allowed for a minimum amount of circulation, thereby preventing natural decay, although most articles may be brittle despite this. White marble has been used to create an insulating layer wall against the natural rock, giving the room an unnatural brightness and a enchanted atmosphere - while also giving it four distinct walls. The ceiling as well has been made smooth with an arching apex.
As for the books and mounds of information stored in this vault of information, the organization is clear. Books bound with hard covers are kept alphabetical in the towering skybroom wood shelves, where step ladders and scrolling ladders actually attached to the shelves move to assist a person in selecting a volume. The shelves are ornately carved, many crafted with a mastery none have ever seen. Meanwhile, scrolls have a sectional shelf where each scroll based on how they were itemized has a cubical square into which they are kept in. This shelf alone has over a hundred squares in which the scrolls stick out of. As well, any loose bits of information have been assembled in files that are stored in boxes along the back wall. Apparently, recording history takes up vast amounts of space and every where one looks in this room one would find a wealth of information. The ancestors of Fort live here.

Winter is in full swing outside, which has left many to hide somewhere within the weyr unless they need to be out in the lovely snowy weather. Abigail is making her way down to the library, a notepad tucked under her arms with a soft breath escaping her. If she thought that she was done with lessons when she became a rider she was wrong. She is here to find some information for a paper that is due dealing with search and rescue history. At least it is something interesting, right? Her gaze drifts over the room while she undoes her coat with her free hand, pondering it seems before she starts to move forward towards the rows of books.

Not unused to the cold, Rayathess prefers the indoors regardless and more so especially if he has no reason too be outdoors. The young man is alone for once, his shadow guard no longer following his every move. Seems his continuous good behavior and even his involvement with the searches for Anrila have given him some leeway with his freedom. He still can't leave the Weyr without permission (or unguarded), but it's an improvement in his eyes and he's content enough (for now) to stay within the walls. The library draws him in because for one, it is quiet and secondly for it's vast stores of knowledge: new and old. Rayathess seems to prefer the older history books and records, delving into historic tales that he's no doubt only learned a fraction of from his Harper lessons as a child. He is just about to wander into one of the many aisles in search of another book when Abigail arrives and he freezes, hazel eyes recognizing her. Habit has him stepping back though, but he does not get far as his heel clips the edge of one of the rows and it's enough to send some of the books slipping from the shelves as the whole frame is jostled. In the quiet of the library, the sound seems overly loud. "Shards," Rayathess curses, reaching out to steady the wooden shelf before crouching down to carefully pick up the books, muttering under his breath as he does.

Abigail hadn't even caught sight of anyone else around, perhaps as her mind is elsewhere it would seem. Though the sound of books falling and someone cursing that does get her attention. She glances over to here Rayathess is and blinks while peering at him. She ponders and smirks a bit while she moves on towards where he is. "Hey, are ye alright?" This questioned with a friendly smile and she bends down to help pick up some of the fallen books. She didn't know he was trying to escape because she was there.

It's not so much an escape as it is just old habits. Rayathess is wary of everyone and even though he's met Abigail and even worked with her and the others, the young man is slow to trust. Very slow. So when she approaches him, he edges away slightly and almost defensively and his eyes will focus on her, uncertain and cautious. It's only when she smiles and is clearly just bending down to help pick up some of the books that he relaxes enough to resume the task himself. "I'm fine." he snorts, lips twisting into a bit of a smirk. "Just caught the edge with my boot. Hope none of these are damaged…" Rayathess mutters as he lifts one book to examine it before sliding it back onto the shelf. It's likely all out of order now and some archivist is likely going to have a fit when they find it.

Abigail is actually use to others not being that trusting of her, guards tend to ask a lot of questions, or she did when she was one. "It's alright. I'm sure there fine." She even looks over the few that she picks up. "They can take a few falls without too much damage." As for putting them back on the shelf she pauses to put them in order not wanting to make more work for someone else. "What ye looking into it?" Its just a general question, her tone proving she is curious more than anything. A glance towards him perhaps caught, idle chitchat time.

"I suppose they were made to last," Rayathess agrees in a low and somewhat dry tone. The young man has the books to focus on for now, but there is no denying some of the awkwardness in the way he moves and the tension in his crouched position. He'll likely undo some of Abigail's careful work too and not intentionally, in rearranging the books to order as he simply is looking to fix it and fast. At her general question, he looks up at her and almost snaps a rather blunt and rude reply to her. In his mind, he tells her it's nothing or none of her business. Instead Rayathess forces himself to be sociable and polite. He catches that glance and finding the neutrality of it unthreatening, he answers her, "Just the history of Fort. What I can find of it that isn't too dry or dull. There's a lot more to it than what the lessons Harpers teach us." Picking up another book, he examines the title of it and decides to set it aside instead of returning it. "And what's got you down here?" Rayathess asks, his gaze now darting to the knot on her shoulder. Wingrider, not Weyrling, he notices with a bit of a frown. "You're a full rider now. Don't they have you on other duties?"

Abigail nods slightly. "Made to last anything save fire and water I'm thinking." As for the others tension she does pick it up and so trys to just keep herself relaxed, no big deal just fixing the books back into order. She looks a bit amused while he goes about trying to help, and well doesn't Though she doesn't comment and just fixes it herself. "Aye I suppose it can be that way. Growing up over at Fort Hold it was sort of preached rather often so I didn't have a choice in the matter. Ye either learned it or got extra chores tacked on." Chores were something she didn't like doing as a kid, but then what child would? A nod is seen at the bit on her bring a rider. "Oh I have plenty of duties. Though I now also have to write a paper on the history of the Search and Rescue wing. Which I did before but seem the one I did when I was a Weyrling wasn't good enough to be used again. So. I'm back to try another hand at it."

"It'd be a great pity if these perished in a fire," Rayathess remarks off hand, a heavy frown knitting his brows together as he sets the last of the books to the shelf and leaves Abigail to rearrange them if needed. He's picking up the small book he set aside and keeping it, it seems. Her words have him looking up at her again though and he gives the brownrider a sharp, lingering look. "You're Holderbred?" he asks, not from surprise but merely curiosity as he was once a holder himself or at the very least the son of one. He snorts then and his smirk twists, bemused now. "Aren't most lessons that way? Listen or else." Shaking his head, he pushes to his feet with the book still in his hand and tucked against his hip. "That sounds…" Utterly boring. "Unfortunate. How does a Wing have a history anyways? Weren't they just always there? From the times of Threadfall?"

Abigail nods slightly while she works on putting the books back in order. "It would be a shame indeed." She looks over the books making sure all is right before brushing her hands off. Her pale gaze turns back to him at the question. "Aye that I be" A bit of amusement crosses her face. "That surprise ye?" This questioned and she chuckles softly. "That they are. Though depends on the lessons at hand how one pays attention to 'em. If it is a lesson in that yer interested then it doesn't take much effort after all." Her gaze drifts towards that book he is hanging on to, pondering what it is. "It's boring, that's what it sounds like. I'd much rather be off doing sweeps, as would Niumdreoth." The brown keeps voices his displeasure of being at the weyr instead of off somewhere on an adventure. "Well, after Threadfall the wings was made, took a while to get everything set up. Plenty of trails and errors happened before everything we settled into how it is now. "

Rayathess' gaze narrows a little as Abigail questions him again and he scoffs softly, "No. Just that I hadn't considered it." Which means yes, despite his curiousness he was maybe just a teeny bit surprised. "I figure most riders were Weyrbred anyways. That holdrebred or Craft were of the minority." He chuckles dryly and the book he holds will remain a mystery to the brownrider, as his hand blocks the narrowly written title on it's spine. "Suppose that's the truth of lessons," he remarks and then turns on his heel and begins to stride back to where he had been seated prior to his venturing for some reading material. No invitation is given to Abigail, but as he continues on with their discussion, it's as though he expects her to follow him regardless. "Well, I was trying not to rub it in that your duty today is rather dull sounding," Rayathess muses with obvious sarcasm and then turns to glance at her from over his shoulder, frowning. "Weren't the Wings in existence even in Thread-times? That makes no sense… Unless you mean they were changed from what they were?"

Abigail catches that narrowed look, and just smirks while tilting her head to eye him a moment. She doesn't seem bothered by the questions, or thought. "I suppose many do. Though I wasn't even in a craft when I at the hold. I was a guard." There is a pause. "My parents didn't see it was a craft at least." A slight shrug is seen while her gaze drifts over the books on another shelve near where they were. Two books catch her attention and she pulls them free and soon follows after him towards where Rayathess had been sitting. "Yes they were, but without the threadfall they had to pick up new jobs. Threadfall was sort of a big deal and the biggest worry." She pauses a moment while setting the books and notepad down that she was carrying, pondering if she is explaining this well, and thinking that perhaps she is not.

"That's because it isn't a Craft, really, it's more of a trained skill or specific class of duty," Rayathess points out as he comes to an abrupt stop by some of the lower and well padded chairs pushed into one of the more quieter corners in the back of the library. Figures this is where he'd settle and the one small table is already littered on one side with other books he's found. But he's giving Abigail another long, searching look. "Guard, huh?" And from his tone, it's hard to say if he holds that rank in much high regard either. "Ahh, right." he murmurs, recalling now that bit of history that every child is no doubt taught as well. "Suppose it does make sense though. Wings had to be retooled with a different purpose. So that's what you have to research and write about? The history of the start of a Search and Rescue Wing?" Rayathess grimaces and looks almost sympathetic to the brownrider's task. At least he's reading for the pleasure of it?

Abigail lifts a brow while she peers at Rayathess a few moments, pondering what he has said. She can just see her mother making the same argument which makes her tense up slightly, though it soon passes. "It's not a craft no, but for the ones that follow it is a rewarding task." At least that is how she's always felt about it. He gaze settles on the books that she has pulled out, a soft breath escaping her and she nods. "Aye, that be right. History as to why it was formed the way it is now." She smirks a moment. "Sounds like fun don't it?" She is joking of course.

Sensing that tension from Abigail, Rayathess goes on edge and regards her with a wary look when she peers at him. What? When the moment passes, he too relaxes again, but only by a small fraction. Moving off to one of the chairs, he settles into it less than gracefully and the book he brought with him is kept in his lap. Smirking, he looks up at her and snorts, "Never said it wasn't rewarding or any less valuable than the Crafts themselves. Folk will always need Guards. Just as folk still need dragonriders. It's one of those valuable skills." he stresses and then shrugs, "Everything has it's merit. Even a cotholder!" Was that a joke? Rayathess seems to think so, as he laughs softly but it's a touch too dry and bitter. "Tons of fun," he adds sarcastically. "And I'm glad not to be the one stuck with it. I think it's odd that they gave it at all. You sure you didn't piss off someone in your Wing?"

Abigail is quiet for a moment and just nods. "Of course." This offered with a soft tone, a slight tap of her finger heard against her notepad. She won't get into detail at the moment as to why she was getting tensed up it seems. A soft chuckle escapes her and she smiles while looking to him. "I don't think I made anyone more. The others that are new to the wing had to do the same work so I think it is just a trail by paper writing for the moment." As for the joke she lifts a brow, peering at him curiously, was it a joke and she just didn't catch it? Though she at least offers a smile. "So, what all have ye found out from yer reading?"

"Trial by… essays? That's odd," Rayathess remarks with a skeptical frown given to Abigail, as if he doesn't quite believe what the brownrider is telling him. But what does he know of the inner workings of a Wing? Very little, not that it keeps him from giving his opinion on it. "You'd think they'd test you for your actual skill for the duties you're to be preforming. Like those sweeps you mentioned." Rayathess frowns a little and looks down at the book in his lap, fingers playing along the edge of the cover and leather bound spine. He's silent and thoughtful for a moment, before shrugging his shoulders. "That Fort is old? The whole region is old. Steeped in more tradition that the Harper lessons let on. Not just the Weyr too, but Fort Hold."

Abigail shrugs a moment at the thought. "Our skills was already tested, everyone has to do something they don't like. Part of the job is writing out reports so I suppose they want to see how creative we can get in our writing skills?" Well that makes some sense to her. "I got use to writing reports back when I was a guard though." Her pale gaze settles on that book once more, still trying to see the spin and she nods, she chuckles softly. "That is all very true."

"I guess that comes with any duty or rank," Rayathess murmurs with another smirk and it must make sense to him too as he nods his head in agreement to Abigail's statements. "Could be then. But a report and an essay still seem two very different things. Once is based on facts you witnessed personally. The other is based on facts you… well, researched." So not the same in his eyes. He finally notices her glance to that book and his smirk switches to something more of a faint and vague smile. Leaning forwards, he sets it on the table and then pushes it forwards to Abigail, leaving it for the brownrider to pick up or not. Turns out it's another historical book, but one tailored more to the Wings and the old coverage territories and formations of Thread-times. Why he grabbed it is not explained, but it could be he was curious to see if the boundaries changed after all these Turns. "I need to stretch my legs a bit, I think. Been camped in here too long. Good luck with your… writing." he says as he pushes to his feet again, offering her a brisk nod before heading off. Of course, he leaves the table in a mess of books too!

'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.