Ill Omens

Fort Weyr - Ground Entrance - SW Bowl
The dominant feature of the southern end of the bowl is the blue lake that fills the entire southern tip and the rockslide that tumbles down into its far side. It has been many, many, turns since the slide took place, but it still stands uncleared to this day. Occasionally, smaller pebbles tumble down to splash into the waters of the lake below, but the mass seems mostly stable. Sturdy fences mark the feeding pens that the dragons may choose their meals from, located against the west face. The beasthold here is minor, small cramped buildings, used mostly to maintain the herds which feed the dragons. The major beasthold is located out in the forests, just outside the Weyr. There's a sign which warns "that beasts in this location are fair game to the dragons" and that any domestic pleasure stock should be kept in the major beasthold location.
The other feature that does not go unnoticed in this bowl is the large cavernous archway. There seems to be cobble stone laid down near the archway, which causes a clatter when the wagons and trading caravans arrive. Indeed, it seems that there's a tunnel out of the bowl here, wide enough for two trader caverns to fit through and possibly a small blue dragon. To the opposite end, the great bowl stretches away far, leading to some very interesting locations.


There is some truth that says ill news comes in the wake of storms and if there is no saying on such a thing… perhaps one will be started by the end of this day. Most of the morning has been filled with the sound of howling winds and thunder as the rain poured and lighting arced across the skies. Now the storm has cleared and the afternoon sees a brief respite though sweep riders report that more storms are looming in the distance. For now though, the Weyr mobilizes to make the most of the clear weather and those not on immediate duty are slated to help clear up the mess caused by the storm.

The southern bowl has seen the least amount of debris strewn about but is the most waterlogged. Overseeing the clean up, Th'ero stands by the southern tip with the lake behind him. The Weyrleader had just finished speaking with the Headwoman and now his head is lowered as he murmurs with another beside him. "You'd think with all the storms we get, we'd have this down to a flawless routine…" he can be heard grumbling. Little does anyone know that they have visitors on their way as a group of riders on runnerback are making their way down the road leading into the Weyr at a fast clip. The storms delayed them, but now they're making up for that lost time.

Kimmila shakes her head in response, frowning at the muddy mire that is the bowl. "We should set up drainage systems, walkways…at least gravel the entire place so this stops happening…" Hands in her jacket pockets, the bluerider peers about with a deepening frown, the shovel she was using resting against her side.

Not a strangers to hard physcal labor, K'drozen is out with the crews helping with the clean up. The large brown rides gives a respectful nod in the dirrection of Th'ero and Kimmila as he nears, shovel in hand. Hearing Kimmila speaking of drainage systems and walk ways he speaks up, "It shouldn't be to hard to set up some basic drainage here…I work on some projects over at Ista when I was a handyman there, for drainage witht he hurricans…." Stoping near to the weyr leader he looks up to him.

D'ani has been out on sweeps with Thunderbird wing. He now returns, having split off from the group early. Dremkoth backwings a ways off, the Weyrsecond swings down and he approaches the Weyrleader, saluting as he does. His greeting, a glance sent towards Kimmila includes her in it. "Spotted a group of riders on the road moving fast," he says by way of greeting. Casual news, report will wait, his brown eyes flicking across the workers clearing the bowl.

"Gravel in a space this large? That'd be expensive," Th'ero points out to Kimmila, shifting his weight to one side as he crosses his arms over his chest and peers out across the bowl to where a crew is still working on draining the water. "A system may be more ideal…" Pausing as K'drozen approaches, the Weyrleader dips his head in a polite nod. "Afternoon, K'drozen. So you think a drainage system would be appropriate? Wonder how much something of that scale would cost. It'd require we dig, wouldn't it?" That earns a frown. "Might have to wait until the following Turn. Can't imagine starting something like that now, with the frosts coming." Glancing up as Dremkoth wings in overhead, Th'ero welcomes the Weyrsecond's arrival with a small but pleased smile. "Afternoon, D'ani. Riders?" That has him glancing towards the entrance, intrigued but guarded. "How many would you guess? Odd that there are travellers with the weather so unstable…"

Kimmila shrugs a bit, gazing around. "Maybe gravel in the worst places? Make it so it doesn't turn into quite the quagmire of mud…?" And then there's another shrug and a glance to K'droven, along with a nod. "Lots of trenches, grating the land, making it slope the right way. Moving the water rather than fighting it." She looks up as well at Dremkoth's arrival, returning D'ani's salute - or saluting him first, since he /technically/ out ranks her. "Riders? That's odd," she agrees, peering towards the tunnel entrance with a curious tilt to her head. "Were they armed?" she asks, grin crooked. Clearly teasing.

K'drozen turns and returns D'ani's salute as well. Before turning to respond to Th'ero, he says, "It would be alot of work yes sir, we could get some basic trenches dug pretty quickly to try to help divert a portion of the water, they would only be a temporty fix though." he nods in agreement with Kammila "With our dragons help we could get some basic to help with the coming storms." he goes queit though at the mention of coming riders, looking back and forth between D'ani and Th'ero.

D'ani should have counted them. He didn't. "Looked like several, Sir." Nice, vague answer, that. "Riding hard." He's overheard the snippets of conversation about walkways and drainage but offers no alternative solution save to comment, "If we could get grass to grow at least the turf would keep us from sinking into our armpits in the mud." How deep is the mud anyway? Gravel might just get churned down into it.

Th'ero already looks as though he's developing a headache just trying to fathom the amount of work and cost it would take from Kimmila's description of the task alone. K'drozen's input only seems to solidify that and the Weyrleader shakes his head. "Might not be possible," he mutters. "Though perhaps something we can plan out over the winter months." When the issue will be the same, only with ice and snow instead! Th'ero's focus is shifting though and glancing back at D'ani, the Weyrsecond's vague response only earns a sharper look from the Weyrleader. Uh huh? "Grass? Wouldn't that be nigh on impossible?" Just when he's about to continue, no doubt to bring up the riders on the road again, all will be answered for them! From the arched tunnel comes the clatter of hooves, followed by the reverberating sound of voices as the Guards posted there firmly question these 'visitors'. From the tone of voices that answer, it's hard not to miss the urgency and simmering anger. "Great. What now?" Th'ero mutters under his breath, likely overheard only by D'ani, Kimmila and K'drozen. He's lowered his arms to his side, standing tall and ready to "greet" these guests. Who arrive in short order, reigning in their mounts as they encounter the water logged bowl. The two riders at the front look to be young men, their features similar enough to peg them as brothers. Each wear shoulder knots woven in Breakwater Hold's colours. Behind them are two other men and all their mounts look to be winded from the hard ride in to the Weyr.

Kimmila turns as well, straightening her posture and casually resting her hand on her knife hilt as she stands - knotless - beside the Weyrleader. Yeah, she's intimidating. Bring it.

The elder of the two young men - only a turn or so older than his brother - reins in his chestnut mount and swings off with a fluid and practiced motion, landing in the mud with a squelch. He grimaces, lip curling slightly. "Don't you know how to properly grade a plot of land?" he asks, voice holding a polite veneer over a sneer as he lifts his hand to his chest and offers the traditional holder bow. /Just/ deep enough to not be completely insulting, but not low enough to convey any actual meaning. "Weyrleader, sir, Breakwater has grievances it must air." The two men behind the brothers remain conspicuously mounted, holding their runners firmly, swords at their hips.

Looking up to the mean the approach, K'drozen frowns slightly at the barely covered contempt. The brown rider does not speak though, instead he just steps up a pace or so behind Kimmila, leaning lightly on the shovel that he carried. His eyes flicking from th swords at there hips to the men in question.

D'ani doesn't know! "It's dirt when it's not mud? Why wouldn't grass grow in it?" Grass seed is certainly cheaper than gravel. What they need is a really big flush handle. But no, he doesn't say that. He steps forward to stand a half-pace behind Th'ero as the riders clatter up, aligning himself with Kimmila, sending her a twinkle of a smirk for her stance. At the man's snapped question about whether they know how to grade a slope, his brown eyes ain remcurious for the most part, though his glance flickers back to the soggy bowl. He finds no insult in it because… apparently they don't? One shoulder shrugs negligently, "We've been busy with other things."

At any other time, Th'ero would have shrugged and probably gone into some long winded roundabout conversation with D'ani over why grass doesn't grow and how come they're so shardin' cursed with a bowl that doesn't drain and no quick-fix option to make it better so they can move on to those 'other things' the Weyrsecond mentions to the demanding holder. The Weyrleader has bristled considerably now by the behaviour of the men, particularly the first one to speak both for the remark and his thinly veiled contempt. Glancing sharply to Kimmila, K'drozen and D'ani, his eyes flick back to the young men. It takes him a moment, but he recalls the eldest and returning the bow with a stiff nod, he goes on to drawl back. "Fort welcomes you, heir Telyar and you as well Telyss. What grievances would Breakwater Hold have that it could not be sent by firelizard or by sweeprider? Should we venture to somewhere a little more private to discuss these matters?"

The young brother starts a bit when Th'ero addresses them by name, having been focused on trying to stare down his brother with a warning look. Clearly their personalities vary considerably and Telyss does not entirely approve for Telyar's comment, even if he is grimacing at the condition of the bowl. Ugh. The other two men dismount only when signalled to do so, though they keep their silence and their greetings are curt nods at best and grim expressions. Enough to tip anyone off that whatever 'news' they bring is of the 'Not Good' variety.

Kimmila bristles as well, but she holds her silence for now.

Heir Telyar doesn't even acknowledge that Th'ero uses their names. "No we should not," he says firmly. "And no, it could not be delivered by firelizards or sweepriders. Weyrleader," at least he uses Th'ero's title, "your Roc wing has made such an error that it requires immediate attention. A debt must be paid!" he says, his temper rising as he grips the reins of his mount, the chestnut gelding tossing his head and stomping his hoof despite his exhaustion. "We trusted Roc to deliver and they have /failed/, and turns of work - TURNS - has been destoryed because of their neglegence!"

D'ani keeps a mild poker face on, his breathing even and slow. He does flick a look at Th'ero and asides under his breath so quietly only the Weyrleader should hear. Or maybe Kimmila and K'drozen, "Don't let them get your goat." Then he too quiets to listen.

Storms battered the Weyr all throughout the morning and now the afternoon has cleared but the south bowl remains waterlogged. Crews are cleaning and a few volunteers, though the Weyrleader's presence had been to speak with the Headwoman. She's long since returned to her office, leaving Th'ero to weather an entirely different storm that is about to break open with Kimmila, D'ani and K'drozen at his side. Anyone happening in on the little scene will sense the tension first even before the conversation drifts in. Whatever is going on, it's 'Not Good'. So much so that the crews have even stopped working to peer and likely eye a few escape routes in case things really go down the pits fast. Th'ero is close to scowling now as he stares down two young brothers, one the heir to Breakwater Hold and the other his brother. Two other men stand behind them, also wearing knots with the minor Hold's colours. "Please, be calm about this! This is the first I've heard of any troubles concerning Roc Wing and their recent duties concerning your father's Hold. But this is not the place we should discuss this, Telyar! Will you not consider coming to the council chambers, at least?" D'ani's comment about not letting them get his goat earns a brief side glance and nod of acknowledgement. So far, Th'ero's temper is holding, though he shifts a little closer to Kimmila.

Kimmila is still. She's calm on the outside, but right now she's reserving judgement as to who her temper will snap at.

Telyar lifts his chin sharply before he looks at his brother, then back to the Weyrleader. "The council chambers then," he agrees stiffly. "But only if our mounts will be properly cared for. Don't kill any of them." Then he stalks off in the direction of the chambers. He knows the way, gesturing for his brother and their two shadows to follow.

D'ani steps forward. "I'm beastcraft. I'll see to them," he says calmly. He'll ignore any gibes and glares holding out a gloved hand for the reins, speaking soothingly to the runners as he moves towards them. "Let's get you cooled and rubbed down eh? Then some water and feed. You're tired, come lovelies…" And off he goes towards the barn, walking the winded animals slowly so their heated muscles can cool.

It's just as they're leaving that Inri arrives; apparently they're on a collision course, since the area of the Council Chambers was likely where the goldrider came from. It took Kouzevelth her sweet time to get the gossip to her rider, and Inri really doesn't look happy to be dragging herself through a pile of muck as she tries to catch up to the group. She'd been inside, nice and warm and cozy and not having to worry about how disgustingly wet it was outside, and then — "Nobody's going to kill anyone," is her immediate interjection, relatively good-natured, with a slightly tired smile for Telyar. "Beasts or otherwise."


Fort Weyr - Council Chambers
A large table, spacious enough to seat all of the Weyrleaders of Pern simultaneously, takes up the majority of the space in this room. Comfortable chairs are placed at regular intervals around the highly polished table, and writing materials have been laid out at each place in preparation for the next meeting. Along the walls are a series of sideboard tables, meant to hold food and drink for longer conference sessions.


The Council Chambers are for the most part devoid of any life as mid-afternoon creeps over the Weyr like a prowling feline. There is a sole exception to the rule, however, and that is Yhri, Journeyman Computer Crafter. She's tucked away to one side of the room, working at a terminal and idly consuming the remaining morsels of her lunch. Her klah has long since gone cold, but she sips at it anyway, seeming to not notice the tepidness of it while she taps away at miles of text scrolling along the vast majority of the screen.

Th'ero is completely lost by Telyar's parting comment and barely holds back the angry retort he wishes to fire at the back of the Breakwater heir as the man stalks off towards the council chambers. Telyss follows, but not before eyeing D'ani with wary suspicion. Wisely he does not protest in handing the reins over of the runner he rode in on and the two men behind him do the same. Then they're gone to follow in Telyar's wake and with them that strained tension. As they pass Inri, Telyss at least has the politeness to offer the junior goldrider (and former Breakwater resident!) a respectful and low bow, only to start. Oh shit, she heard his brother's comment! "Of course no one will be killed. But you will understand my brother's comment soon enough, weyrwoman." And with that he's gone. Th'ero utters a low curse and frustrated sound, mouth drawn back in a grim line as he watches D'ani lead the runners away. Relieved that the Weyrsecond stepped in, he turns to Kimmila. "Are you coming with?" he asks in a low tone as he turns on his heel to follow, ignoring how his boot squelches in the mud. Spotting Inri there, he signals to her to join and follow, unaware that she's already left the very place they're heading towards. "Have you heard anything from Roc Wingleader N'hon?" he quizzes the poor gold rider. Hi! Poor Yhri is about to have some guests! Lots of them and one half rather furiously angry.

Telyar makes his way into the council chambers and takes a seat - and /not/ Th'ero's seat. He's not as brash as that. Angry, yes. Stupid? No. And he waits, though he does glance at Yhri with a frown. "We're having a meeting."

"No — I mean, not nothing ever," Inri elaborates in response to Th'ero's question — Kimm gets a smile, though it's just as laden with 'ugh' as everything else, though not meant for the bluerider, "But nothing notable? I have no idea what all the fuss is about." Inri takes her own seat before anyone else does, though at least for now nobody's getting any dirty looks. Telyss remains on her good side, and Th'ero and Kimmila have permanent residencies there. Telyar — we'll see. N'hon is probably not her favorite person right now.

Yhri cranes about as the room is suddenly invaded by an angry mob. Well, angry, not quite a mob yet. She purses her lips and gives Telyar a stare. It's silent but no less of a glare. "I can see that. Perhaps I should take the minutes so that nothing is misremembered." It's almost a threat. Turning around she saves her work and exits the program, opening up a new one to allow her to take notes in. "Please, continue."

"Shards if I know but we're going to get to the bottom of it!" Th'ero growls low to Kimmila as they trudge across the bowls and to Inri he adds in a firm tone. "Seems Roc has done something so outrageous that the Lord of Breakwater Hold has sent his heir and younger son to voice grievance with us and demand we pay a debt for apparent Turns of damage done." That's it in a nutshell and if Wingleader N'hon is a wise man, he will show up if summoned. Th'ero has made no decision on that matter and likely doesn't call the bronzerider in for fear of tossing more salt into the wound. Telyss follows his brother to the council chamber table and promptly sits himself down stiffly in a chair, quiet and uncomfortable. Allowing Kimmila to step in first and take a seat, Inri as well before he walks to his chair and lowers himself down. As Telyar addresses someone not at the table, Th'ero's eyes slide in that direction too and spying Yhri he is quick to come to her defence. "She is our recorder, as she is knowledgeable in using the computers in here, Telyar. Her purpose here is valid." he says in a voice that broaches no room for argument, though he keeps his tongue held in reminding the heir that he is not in command of the Wingrider's here in the Weyr. Then Yhri is speaking up for herself and Th'ero almost snickers and has to duck his head to cover the smile. Ahem. "Now, Telyar. What is this grievance you speak of that has your father's hold at odds with the Weyr?"

Kimmila sits down to Th'ero's right, and leans back in her chair, still quiet.

Telyar waits until everyone is assembled and then he leans forward. "Weyrleader. Breakwater has always enjoyed a good standing with Fort Weyr. We have dealt with Fort for many, many turns. One of our own is a goldrider here," and he gives Inri a respectful nod, "but this can not stand. Your Roc riders were in charge of transporting several runners from Keroon to Breakwater. A stallion and three mares that were to be the foundation of a new herd - our first herd since the runner plague. Those runners were abandoned in a clearing and left to die. Turns of preparation, of breeding by Keroon's beastcrafters, paid for by Breakwater, has been lost because /your/ riders left them in a clearing." He's getting worked up again, words punctuated by firm points to the table top, clipped, and increasing in volume. "Not to mention the sheer /cruelty/ of abandoning helpless animals in crates to starve to death."

For a moment there Inri just stares as Telyar talks; his brother was certainly right and the comments about killing mounts make a lot more sense now. Even if she doesn't want to hear that. And she's completely appalled by this story. "What, I —" There's immediate shock and surprise in her voice, and she looks a bit ill. Normally, Inri would be saying if that's true, if this happened — but when it comes to Breakwater she's biased, the same way her equal in D'ani is likely to be. Home holds and cruelty to animals: not looking good for N'hon. "That is horrific and —" And Inri is shutting up, because she's going to let Th'ero do the rest of the talking, but suffice to say she is Not Pleased.

Yhri hides a little smile as the Weyrleader puts in his two marks about her presence, but only offers a sharp, respectful nod before she starts taking notes in regards to the hold's grievance. Fingers pause now and then, a look of shock crossing her features ever so briefly as the ill deeds are laid out. She might even look a little ill, but those fingers pick up their pace again, tap-tapping out the information with an undeniable efficiency.

Inri's 'Not Pleased' is quite a nice compliment to Th'ero's 'Livid Fury'. As Telyar unravels the story and details, the Weyrleader tenses where he sits, posture rigid and expression gone cold and emotionless. Never a good sign and neither is his too calm and flat, levelled voice. "Horrific and completely unacceptable! Outrageous." Oh yes, Th'ero IS defensive of the Wingleader N'hon, even if his curling hands are likely signalling his inner desire to wring the bronze rider's neck personally. So it comes of no surprise that his next move is to grill both Telyar and Telyss mercilessly, even if he risks insulting either one or both of the brothers. At times, he will seek Inri's input and Kimmila's as well but it's swiftly obvious that Roc Wing is the guilty party. No matter how much Th'ero tries to prod for holes in the issue or claim, it always comes around to fault on their side and that serves to send the Weyrleader's mood plummeting. No escape for any of those present either and Yhri will be a first hand witness to it all as she takes down the notes for record and the real fun will begin when Th'ero summons Wingleader N'hon to the chambers and tensions rise to breaking point when N'hon denies everything despite the evidence against his Wingriders and shoddy Leadership. It's going to be one long, long afternoon and by the time it's all said and done their alliance with Breakwater Hold is strained at best (if not non existent) as the holders finally leave with the understanding that they are to stay as guests for the night so talks can resume in the morning. As for the Weyrleader, Inri, Kimmila and Yhri (oh yes, her record skills are still needed)? They get the "pleasure" of ripping N'hon apart… well, that may be more Th'ero's doing but whose to say not everyone can get in on it? It won't be until late night until everyone is dismissed and a uneasy air hangs over the Weyr… How are they going to pull their reputation up from this?


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