Fort Weyr - Northeast Bowl
The northern end of the bowl can be an intimidating area, being that Fort is the largest weyr. The far north wall contains the gigantic opening to the hatching caverns, and to the west of that can be seen the sprawling ledges and carved stair cases that mark the way to the administration complex and the training grounds were candidates and weyrlings can often be found. The west cliff wall towers up, dotted here and there by darker openings that mark individual weyrs before it tapers to a point at Tooth Crag.

Another busy day in the Weyr and the north bowl is no exception. With autumn settling in, most weyrfolk are hard at work to prepare for the change of seasons yet again. On this day, with the skies clear and winds favourable, M'icha is putting some of the older Weyrlings through their paces and his voice can be heard shouting orders at them from the mouth of the training complex. "Y'heard me! Those of you who have your assigned tasks — get on with it! Bunch of dawdlers. Pick it up and get moving! The rest of you, to your formations! Oh don't groan at me, it won't work! I've had Turns of listening to it…" And it goes on and on like that for this older bluerider is the Weyrlingmaster, set in charge of training the Weyrlings from the day they Impress on the Sands. Satisfied that he's whipped this current group into a frenzy of work, M'icha steps aside and clearly favours one leg and it should be no wonder that he reaches for a cane propped against the stone wall.

A day of exploration has come, and Beyrl makes no small effort in filling it with the curiosity of youth, taking in all the sights, sounds, and even smells that gives Fort life and energy. Random meanderings have taken his steps into a number of new and interesting areas, but this latest has him taken within earshot of a task master. Another would not have been considered, and this area placed as a short note for future sightseeing. The firelizard on his shoulder has other ideas though. New place! Have to see! Maybe they have food. King drops down to the ground and takes off like a frightened herdbeast. Only after twenty paces (and perhaps a few more) does his master take notice, and Beyrl takes chase, and King takes flight (though too young to take it literally, spread wings and fast legs across a rough ground seems to suffice). King ponders his surroundings. Food and people go together, right? And so he picks a person and makes a line as straight as a weaver's needle toward that whom had Beyrl pause to begin with. The dreaded task master.

M'icha definitely does not have food and neither will the grounds beyond the training complex. Not that the Weyrlingmaster isn't used to seeing firelizards about but he'll give King quite the look as he leans heavily on his cane but it's not the brown firelizard to which he chides but Beyrl instead. "This one yours then, Apprentice?" He's sharp eyed enough to see the knot pinned to the younger man's shoulder. "Or are you rushing about like that for another reason?"

The Apprentice, nature true that the task master noted, slows as the cane bearer queries him in a manner rather uncomfertable. King also spots the look, and takes a rather quick stop, turning a 180 and zipping back behind Beyrl, going up the back of his favorite climbing post, and peeks out from slightly behind that shoulder-that-is-his. "Forgive my untoward faux exuberance, Weyrlingmaster. Surpise took me of King's behavoir, though innocence intended and hunger driven. Better training, suggestions to take that path, I shall futher to better determine and tame the eager lizard's actions." he answers with sincerity.

M'icha quirks a brow. "Fancy talk for an Apprentice Harper, but I suppose they start you young, huh?" The Weyrlingmaster grimaces though not so much for Beyrl's mannerism and more for the fact that his leg is likely to be bothering him. End of summer sees these two standing just outside of the training complex. M'icha just finished sending the older Weyrlings out on their daily tasks. The weather is warm, the skies clear and winds favourable. "Consistent training works best for firelizards. Firmness too. See too many folks coddle the beasts like they're simple minded creatures." he begins, scratching a few fingers under his chin.

Within the safety of the hatching cavern Kouzevelth rests wrapped tightly about the brood of ten eggs which hardens slowly. Fall brings out a hint of wanderlust in the bronze and the sound of voices without pull him from his own watch into the cooler air without. Warm breezes reach out to wrap about Aycheth, low and calm, « Greetings to you and yours. What brings them to the door of the hatching cavern? » Drawing closer, he'll move one step at a time towards the pair, not intruding, but simply observing for a moment.

Beyrl says "My life's fated walk joins that of my mother and father, who weaved stories and histories to relax and entertain my younger self." Beyrl tells M'icha, to give a rather brief and abridged story of contextual youth. Glances then take place between lizard and owner, and a look rather curious is given to the current recipient of conversation. "Hunger and attention seems his drive. Inference to more I have not noticed. Are they of higher sentience then common knowledge may suggest?" is the query then given, with an expression rather intent on the possible answer.

« We were sending the older Weyrlings on their tasks when this one arrived with a young firelizard. It was eager and curious, but not yet fully trained. » Aycheth crisply reports to Kainaesyth, the dark as nightfall blue lurking on a nearby ledge and also overseeing the exchange of words below. « How are the eggs? » "So your mother is a Weaver and your father a Harper then, huh? What got you into the Craft, aside from a love of words apparently." M'icha muses dryly, still giving Beyrl a thorough look over as though inspecting stock. "Firelizards are smart, yes. Smart enough to pick up on commands and our own emotions. That doesn't mean they're not crafty because they are! If they think they can get away with it, they will. And you ever hear the term 'flying stomachs'? That's basically a 'lizard in a nutshell. Why I never bothered with one myself. Got my hands full as it is!"

« A little one? » Sending out a gentle thought Kainaesyth reaches for the young firelizard, coaxing it out into the open and towards him, seeking wordless communication with his small cousin. Questions about his welfare and bond to the wellspoken man. Stories draws him forward more closely, and he'll begin to twine about the fair, curious. As for the final question, « Each day they grow more into their own and will soon reach out those for whom would perhaps twine their stories in for a new beginning. There will be little rest for your M'icha. »

"Harpers both, Weyrlingmaster. Mother a weaver of stories, father a study of times long past." Beyrl considers the information concerning firelizards. "Perchance would repeat.." The statement gets derailed as the lack of King on his shoulder is noticed. He glances about, M'icha (perhaps rudely) forgotton for the nonce, as attention is now focused completely upon finding the awol 'flying stomach'.

« He and I are used to it by now. We have the routine down and those new minds, those new pairs, will be in good hands. » Aycheth assures Kainaesyth but appears intrigued by the bronze's coaxing of the brown firelizard. « What are you doing? » he asks. What purpose does this serve? M'icha just peers at Beyrl and snorts, "Ahh, I get it. Weaver but not in the literal sense… Would repeat what?" he prompts the Apprentice, only to give an upwards glance to where his blue is lurking. A moment passes and something clicks. "Something wrong… uh. What's your name, Harper?"

Young as the firelizard is, there is only so much that Kainaesyth can learn beyong 'he provides food yum!', but the feelings of love and attachment seem to settle well with the bronze. « I rather enjoy his flowery way of speaking. Perhaps my Ha'ze, » To which, somewhere Ha'ze is replying "Fat Chance!" « will bespeak him to weave his stories for the pair of us. Perhaps he might come meet my children. His little one has much well to speak of him.» There's a firmness in Kainaesyth's voice when he speaks, the words coached as a request, but more of a demand in practice. The heaviness of the desert before autumn rains pushes the words along. Shooing gently, he encourages the small blue back to the hold of the harper, as his tail snakes out to wrap around the young man's feet.

Beyrl says "Much apologies. Curiosity appears to have the best of King's attention. I wish harm not to befall him." the answer to M'icha comes with a strong amount of concern. That's quickly pacified into relief as King shows back up. King runs back to Beyrl zips back up to his own personal perch, idly nibbling at the ends of Beyrl's hair. To the tail, Beyrl jumps, and by way of obstruction of the prehensile appendage, the Harper drops like a fallen tree, crashing to the ground, with pride badly damaged, and poor firelizard unceremoniously tossed from the shoulder."

"Dragons won't hurt firelizards. Most of them consider them kin or cousins." M'icha explains gruffly but not entirely unkind. He's used to this sort of thing. How many Craftbred or Holderbred has he had among his Weyrlings over the Turns? The Weyrlingmaster was probably the loudest voice in approval for the excursions and wing shadowing for Candidates for this very reason! When Beyrl tumbles over Kainaesyth's tail, there will be no aid in soothing injured pride. Why? Because the man laughs. "Noah, easy there lad! Jumpy, aren't you? Not used to the dragons yet are ya? Kainaesyth meant no harm." Right? Though he does give the two dragons a suspicious look as Aycheth now glides over for his own cursory examination (but from a respectful distance). « He speaks well but evidently has much to learn. I do not see why he cannot be among the others. I sense… promise in him. Suitable. » Indeed. « Though I hope he does not always fall over! »

Flutelike laughter slips through the thoughts of the bronze, as his tail is pulled back. « All heroes stumble as they seek to write themselves into the world. This promise must be fostered and perhaps Ha'ze would not be the best to ask the question. » Because he won't make it a question, but a demand. « Would perhaps yours be willing to ask on behalf of Kouzevelth and I? »

A realization of a forgotton request, Beyrl looks up to M'icha to reply (though somewhat belatedly). "I am known as Beyrl, Weyrlingmaster. Though currently I perhaps to reflect more of the visage of a common rock." He moves to right himself, first scooping up the disclocated lizard to despoit such back on his shoulder, and carefully brushes clothes with hand to look presentable once again. "It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir." he completes, and checks to make sure King is in higher spirits by offering him a piece of sausage (which he takes from his mobile 'emergency stash').

M'icha smirks, "I've always preferred the term 'dig myself a hole' over becoming a rock or disappearing into the landscape. Better ring to it. Up you get now," Because he's certainly not extending his hand though he'll give Beyrl a lingering and searching look. Most of the exchange of greeting seems to go past him as his eyes unfocused and he tilts his head as if 'listening' in on something private. Blinking and giving his head a slight shake, he sighs with a barely heard "if you say so…" muttered under his breath. "Well Beyrl, looks like I've an offer to make you. Kainaesyth and Aycheth here," He jutts a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the bronze and blue respectively. "Find acceptable qualities in ya. Which means… would you be willing to accept the offer to Stand as a Candidate for Kouzevelth and Kainaesyth's eggs?" Aycheth rumbles to the younger bronze. « Consider it done, my friend. Now we wait. »

If Beyrl had not noticed the bronze dragon LINGERING in the general direction of over ~~ there hi. Kainaesyth moves, expectantly, waiting, his eyes whirling a calm blue of expectation. No doubt of the choice that the young man would make, though willing to leave him to it. He'll step forward, just once, and lower his head towards the harper.

Eyes goes up to M'icha at the mention of the offer, and grows slightly wider at what this offer is, excitement growing in them. Though outward appearance is more at calm, as Beyrl attempts to remain composure in the face of such promise for his future. It's the very reason he's here. Before he can answer, the motion of dragon head is noticed, and he looks up at the bronze. "It would be a delightful honor to stand as a candidate." His answer, though to M'icha, has his gaze still focused on the dragons.

M'icha doesn't seem to mind that Beyrl's focus isn't on him but on Kainaesyth instead. For that he'll just smirk and shake his head a bit. "That settles that. Here," The Weyrlingmaster reaches inside his jacket, not for his usual flask but for a white knot instead and promptly hands it to the ex-Apprentice now made Candidate. "You've best inform your Journeyman of your new rank. Not that you can't continue your studies, but you'll be expected to participate in other tasks as well. Chores. Later, the excursions and wing shadowing. You've the rest of the day to tend to your affairs, then report to Headwoman Talica or Steward Zhirayr and they will see that you've all you need to settle yourself in the barracks, which are just beyond the training complex here. Any questions…?" Aycheth is withdrawing now that his part in this is done and M'icha looks eager to return to his duties as well but he lingers for Beryl's sake so that the poor young man isn't left floundering.

Kainaesyth, for his part, isn't quite ready to retract himself. Instead, he'll send out a single tendril of thought towards the young harper, full of warm winds and carrying the scents of desert sage and blooms. It carries a simple feeling, not expressed in words, soon. A nudge with his head, before, yes, he'll pull back. In the caverns Kouzevelth awakens, and Kainaesyth will return to his brood.

Beyrl closes his eyes, for a moment briefly, to experience the thought from the dragon. It's a wonderful story (or perhaps setting). A wonderful start, either way. He reopens his eyes at the concept of 'soon', and gives a light smile to the dragon, before his focus goes back to M'icha, attempting to gather all the words from the other man and process them before they're forgotton. He goes over them mentally, then by word as he takes his new knot. "Inform Journeyman. Chores. Excursions and wing shadowing." he mutters to himself. "Questions are promised to be many, Weyrlingmaster, though my mind finds itself attempting to stay afloat in the flood of possibilities from this new path fate has set upon me. I shall consider questions to ask of a later time. I thank you greatly for this, my life's walk and desire. I shall wrap up my current life tonight."

"Good. Questions are expected. You can ask me or any of the assistant Weyrlingmasters or your fellow Candidates. Some have been through this before." M'icha informs Beyrl and then gives him a brisk nod. "I best be going and returning to my duties. See that you're not late getting settled into the barracks! We start early in the mornings. Congrats… and good luck." Why does he make it seem like it'll be needed? Shifting his weight, M'icha walks back towards the Weyrling barracks and only has to use his cane sparingly.

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