Fort Weyr - Training Complex
The remnants of a historic collapse are apparent here, as the slope face of the bowl has a predominant downward curvature. It's likely long ago, that a cavern larger than any Fort currently has was where the training complex currently is. A probable cave in triggered a fissure on the bowl wall which lead to a great chunk of it dislodging, thus creating the rounded slope.
Yet, many centuries later, all that remains to give evidence is the pocket made into the bowl wall. It seems that the inhabitants of Fort Weyr have made best of the created space. Rock on the ground proper has long since cleared, but pebbles and loose shale are constantly underfoot. Still, the sprig of some green leafed vegetation isn't too out of the ordinary in these parts, as long as it doesn't get trampled by the comings and goings.
It's clear that this area has been designated for the training of young minds, whether human or dragon. Surrounded by rock on all side, it's like a personal weyr bowl for the youngsters to minimize distraction and danger. The candidate barracks have been built across from the Weyrling barracks, so that one group can educate the next. Finally, placed in the centre of the two entrances of the opposing barracks, near the rock face, is a statue with a memorial plaque.

(OOC: This gdocs scene takes place before the Hatching of Kouzevelth and Kainaesyth's eggs.)

Where better than to meet the Weyrlingmaster than on his own turf? Blue Beauxth wings his way down into the area, after spiralling lazily over the bowls. He lands neatly, dipping to allow Am’ry to slip down from his back, and the bluerider peels away his riding helmet and gloves to stow them in a strap pouch before turning to strut, smartly, towards the Weyrlingmaster’s office. Tap tap tap, he knocks politely at the door, awaiting the summons to come in.

Luckily for Am’ry, M’icha is in his office. Usually the Weyrlingmaster is busy with the Weyrlings but the last of them finally graduated and he’s spending some much needed time to just… doze. Yep. He’s totally sleeping behind his desk, the office a cluttered and yet organized mess. Can he really be blamed? The golds have been productive in the last Turn or so and he’s had group after group of Weyrlings! He starts at the tapping on his door and grunts, scrubbing sleepily at his face. “…n’what’s the problem now?” he grouses as he stiffly pushes himself to his feet, swearing as his bad leg twinges painfully along with a few other cramped muscles. Ugh. “Hold on!” Is the shout aimed at the door while he gropes for his cane and begins to thump his way over. His grizzled, unshaved face is the first thing Am’ry will see as he peers at the visiting bluerider through the half opened door. “Yes?” What is it?

“Weyrlingmaster M’icha,” Am’ry greets him with a smart salute, stiffened at-attention posture, and a grin. “Amry and Beauxth of Ierne. I thought I might come see you about a job. Given how prolific clutches are here, I thought you might be in an all-hands-on-deck situation… though it does seem quiet right now.” No weyrlings to be seen at the present time! Beauxth is up on his feet, nosing about the training grounds by sniffing at the ground, following a scent. “I was weyrlingstaff at Telgar before having to transfer home to Ierne, to help the family with business. Here’s my recommendation.” From his pocket, he pulls out a scroll, sealed with Telgar’s stamp.

The door is gradually opened further but M’icha remains firmly placed between it and entrance into the office further. Am’ry’s salute is met first with a stare and then a brisk return salute in gesture. “Only just.” he answers gruffly, jaw working silently as he gives the bluerider the once over with a studious glance. “Mhm.” A grunt and then the Weyrlingmaster is snatching the scroll from Am’ry’s hand and pushing away from the doorway, leaving it for the man to follow him though a hand will be flicked in a distracted manner. Come on. Limping back to his desk, he’ll settle heavily into his chair and will a gusty exhale he goes on to examine the scroll, taking his time in reading it and leaving Am’ry to do what he wants in the awkward silence. “So.” M’icha speaks after a lengthy spell, peering up at the bluerider as he does. “Why Fort? Aside from the word of mouth that we’re drowning — or were, in Weyrlings? What makes you so special over any of the other riders here?” Ouch. Judging from the way he smirks, M’icha knows that his bluntness is intentional. It’s probably a trap.

Am’ry follows M’icha in, standing beside a chair on the opposite side of the desc in an at-ease stance. He won’t sit until he’s asked to, though he does take the opportunity to look around the room as he’s waiting for the Weyrlingmaster to finish reading. “Sir? Why Fort?” His response comes with raised brows, and an expression that suggests he wasn’t expecting such a question. “Well, why not? Your standards are amongst the highest. It’s been turns since you’ve lost or injured a weyrling. Fort has history and a future. It would be a proud accomplishment for anyone to play a part in shaping that future by training the riders that will make it.”

“And you’ve probably just jinxed us on that,” M’icha replies dryly even though the concept of “jinxes” goes over most heads. Pernese aren’t superstitious by nature, so it leaves one to wonder if the Weyrlingmaster just isn’t being prickly in his humor. “Sit,” he instructs with a sharp gesture of one hand. He’ll tuck away that scroll too, unless Am’ry protests. “Alright. Why not, eh? Have to say, you’ve been the first outsider,” Outsider. That’s a good start… right? “To ever approach me. Y’know I don’t have final say to transfers, right? Though… the blue out there sniffing about is yours?” He makes a thoughtful sound, as if that counts in their favor. “No interest in going back to Telgar to resume helping them?”

There’s no protest from Am’ry over the scroll as the bluerider takes to a chair, sitting attentively, but not unrelaxed. It’s a fine balance between the two that he manages to achieve. “You’ve never been approached by a non-Fortian before?” That seems to surprise him, and he gives a little shrug of his shoulders to express as much. “You may not have final say on transfers, sir, but if it’s the Weyrlingstaff that I want to be part of, then I’d say it’s more important to get your ok with me joining your crew first, before approaching the Weyrleader for his permission to join Fort’s ranks.” He gives a little nod of his head, as if affirming his belief that his way of thinking is right. “That’s Beauxth out there, yessir. And as for Telgar, I’m sure I could go back if I wanted, but change is good, I think. Learning new methods is good. Maybe I’ll even bring something here that might benefit your methods, Weyrlingmaster. You never know, right?”

M’icha shrugs his shoulders, “No I haven’t. Surely you’ve heard the other rumors about Fort? That tends to keep most folks away.” Yet from his tone he doesn’t sound disapproving on that! He smirks and then gives a gruff sort of grunt that could be considered a short sort of chuckle. “Smart of you. Slightly gutsy and I like that. Most go to the Weyrleader first and then me, not the other way around.” So does that mean Am’ry has the job? Not quite. M’icha’s brows furrow and his jaw works silently as he mulls over whatever decision is rattling around in that head of his. “Never know.” he agrees distractedly before giving the other bluerider a shrewd look. “I’ll share a little secret with you. I don’t have set methods. Oh, we’ve the usual same ‘ol lessons given down from the dawn of the first riders but if there’s one thing I’ve learned is that they’re one thing: old. Meant to swiftly teach the newbies before they had their asses sent out to fight Thread. Y’know how it was. Now? I modify with each clutch — or try to. Some of ‘em are just… we’ll, you’ll see I suppose.” Another smirk as he leans back into his chair, hands folded over his slightly rounded stomach. “So I need my Assistants to just be as flexible. Think you can do that, as you seem eager enough to bring ‘new’ to the regimen.”

“I’d heard that about you,” Am’ry says with a crooked grin, leaning in towards M’icha. “What’s the good in teaching to fight Thread, when there is no Thread? Keep the principles of it, adjust them to today’s needs. Keep Thread lessons for the Games, focus on skills that are relevant to today’s Pern. Personally,” and now he leans even more forward, to tap a fingertip on the Weyrlingmaster’s desk, “I feel weyrlings should have assessments early on, learn what their strengths and weaknesses are, and fine-tune their lesson schedule to suit them best. Work on their weaknesses. Emphasise their strengths. Build stronger, more capable riders.” He leans back, hands held wide as if to say ‘and that’s who I am’. “Telgar’s hidebound, Weyrlingmaster. At least in this field. Hence, Fort.”

M’icha’s brows lift. “Heard that, did you? Huh. What’d else you hear?” Do tell. Apparently the Weyrlingmaster is curious to see the “word” around the other Weyrs. He snorts, hardly moving when Am’ry taps his finger against his desk. Instead he only gives a faint but amused smile. “You just summed up what we already do.” he informs the other bluerider dryly and chuckles gruffly. “And you’ll learn swift enough we hold some traditions here but are flexible enough to know what needs scrappin’ and what needs to stay.” Leaning forwards, M’icha will extend his hand without hesitation. “I’ll take you on as interim for now. We’ll worry about the mess of transfer paperwork later but with the eggs about to Hatch any day now… I can use the help.” Oh, won’t he ever!

"Then either we're so attuned that we're thinking the same, or I've been doing my homework," Am'ry replies with a wink, before leaning forward to take M'icha's hand. "Interim works. Gives me time to get to know the place, you time to get to know me. When do I start, sir?"

M’icha’s grip on Am’ry’s hand is firm and he’ll shake it twice before letting go. That wink is met with another snort and then it’s on to business. “Why not now? I’ll show you around, maybe let you meet the Candidates if they’re not all out and about. Sure we can find a few… and then we’ll see if we can’t have you set up with a temporary lodging here.” Somewhere in all of that, the Weyrlingmaster may inform Th’ero of his “new hire” or that will come later. Either way… “If you’ll follow me, Am’ry?” Leaving his cane behind, M’icha will grab his jacket and motion for the bluerider to head out first. Lame leg or not, the man can still move and will follow Am’ry out of the office.

"Sounds good to me, sir!" Am'ry, once he's got his hand back from the shake, salutes his new boss, then turns to lead the way out. "Seems there's always a clutch at some stage of the growing process at Fort… weyrlings, candidates and eggs alike." He grins, holding the door to let M'icha exit first. Because that's the polite thing to do, of course.

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