Fort Weyr - Trader and Crafter's Square
The massive rock face that makes up the outer walls of Fort Weyr looms, ever present even here where a large space has been cleared among the trees. A well tended and worn path threads its way from the Entrance Square, broad and wide enough for even the largest and most cumbersome of Trader's wagons. It continues on some distance, running parallel to the outer walls of the Weyr until veering subtly towards the forests again where it will expand again into a circular clearing. The ground is hard packed and scarcely any grass grows, save for along the edges a few patches here and there where folk are known to sit and relax rather than tread. In the center of this clearing is a stone well, ringed by a swath of wild grasses but accessible to all.
Branching in multiple directions are more paths, another large and broad one leading to a secondary clearing that is clearly designed for the Traders benefit, offering several choice locations, most of them sheltered by trees, for their wagons to be set up and ample room for their beasts to be properly penned. Firepits, large and small, are arranged and set at safe distances.
Another path, still wide but meant more for small wagon or foot travel, leads to a third clearing which holds several wooden stalls, all simple of build but well cared for. They are set up in a horseshoe loop, allowing most visitors to glimpse each of the Craft-related signs that mark each one. During the warmer months, this half is meant to be a Crafter's market and the stalls are often manned by posted Journeymen and any Apprentices under their wings.
Other paths lead away from all these clearings and both the Trader square and Crafter square. Some wind their way towards Fort's Forests, while others disappear up towards the Mountain Pass or loop back around to return either to the Entrance Square or towards the tunnels leading back into the Weyr itself.


What better time to spend a day outdoors than one such as this! With it still being early in the autumn season, the forests are just beginning to come alive with colour. Vivid and bright do they stand out against a bright blue, almost summery, sky and the air is crisp and cool but not uncomfortably so. The sun is out and warm on the back and many who do venture outside will soon shed their jackets. Even with the continued tensions concerning the Holds and Roc Wing's fall from grace, there is a festive air in the Weyr and though it's only mid-morning, many are out and about.

For the Games are slated to start after the noon hour, the rosters for the competitions already filled. Trader's have setup their wares and wagons in the square, already making a tidy profit for their last journey for this Turn. Th'ero has been busy since before dawn, with his usual patrols and then overseeing the organization of the day's Games. It's highly unlikely the Weyrleader has even stopped to eat and further unlikely he'll get a chance to even now. Walking at a sedate pace along one of the quieter paths that curve along the outskirts of the square, he seems momentarily lost in thought until the sudden peal of childish laughter breaks him from his reverie. "What're you doing?" Th'ero can be heard mumbling through chuckles as he turns to stride back to the source. It's none other than Kyzen, the toddler sunk close to shoulder deep in a pile of raked leaves that the drudges had set to the side to keep the square's clean. His "answer" to his father is to simply send a spray of leaves flying everywhere, which has Th'ero ducking aside and back, only to retaliate by "burying" his son deeper in leaves.

Kimmila has been busy as well today, though her Games efforts lie more in transport. Her little cothold wing has been transporting goods and people to Fort throughout the day, bringing folks unable to make the trip other than by dragon, and some family members of people competing. Errands, basically. But those are mostly done (or delegated), and the bluerider is wandering curiously through the area when she hears that laughter. Recognizing it, she turns to head in that direction, hoping her son isn't being destructive.

It's Th'ero who spies Kimmila approaching first and by then Kyzen is all but covered by the pile of leafs. Murmuring low to their toddler son to stay hidden and having to hide a smile when the boy catches on and promptly burrows himself deeper to "hide", he'll look up and flash Kimmila a small but warm smile. "Wingmate! You're back! How was your morning?" he murmurs, already extending his arm out for her to take if she wishes to or, if they're feeling particularly affectionate for a public setting, he'll try to draw her to his side for a swift hug.

Kimmila lifts a hand, looking around a bit confused. "Thought I heard Kyzen," she admits, taking Th'ero's arm and letting herself be pulled in for a hug. "Is he going to be here for this? I think he should be, it'll be a great day with lots of things that he'd like…"

There's no sight of Kyzen anywhere? And that pile of leaves did not just giggle and shiver. Nope. Totally just a figment of imagination! It's a cool, crisp but comfortable autumn day. The sun is out and warming on the backs of those who do venture outside. Who wouldn't? The Weyr is in a festive mood, with the Games well underway and though mid-morning now there will be the first round of competition slated to start soon. Rosters have been filled since the night prior, but now most who have signed up are waiting, as are many spectators. The Trader square is busy with folk coming out to see what is for trade among the wares and wagons setup and likely to be the last for the Turn. Th'ero is standing with Kimmila hugged against his side and they are off to edge of one of the smaller squares where a few pile of leaves have been raked up high to clear the ground. "I agree," Th'ero murmurs to Kimmila and then grins wryly. Abruptly, he's letting her go and steps aside just in time to avoid the sudden burst of leaves as Kyzen pops up from hiding and barrels out towards his mother with a shrieked. "Here I am!" to announce himself.

Kimmila yelps in surprise when the pile of leaves /explodes/ and a creature jumps at her. But she's quick, stepping forward to scoop up their son with a laugh, sending leaves crunching between them and falling to the ground as she gives him a swift hug. "There you are! You little sneak," she says, giving his bottom a little pat. "How are you? Enjoying the festival?" Shifting him to one hip, she picks leaves out of his curls…and flicks them towards Th'ero's with a smirk. Scamp.

"Very much so, thank you," replies So'l, who's approached from behind at the sight of Kyzen popping out of the leaves. He's been walking along the square, seeing what's for sale — though he can't afford much (yet) — and getting potential ideas for his next crafting project. Not that he has a lot of time for woodworking these days but it remains a hobby, at least. The young man smirks at Kimmila, knowing the question wasn't meant for him, and waves to both her and Th'ero before calling out to Kyzen. "There he is! The one who helped me save Abigail from the woods! Hello Kyzen," he smiles at the young boy, amused with his leaf-play. "Weyrleader," he salutes Th'ero before offering "Wingrider" the Kimmila. "How goes the day?"

Kyzen laughs in delight and instantly circles his one arm around Kimmila's neck and shoulders as he settles comfortably. Giggling, he beams up at her. "Yeah! Been playin' all morning!" the toddler explains, only to blink wide blue eyes at So'l for a moment before recognition hits and he's laughing again. "Hiii!" he says cheerily with a wave. "I did! We helped her out of the hole, Kimmila! She was bad and played in it, but I knew better! I stayed in the clearing to play." He's soooo much better behaved then Abigail, see? Th'ero bats aside the leaves flicked at him by Kimmila and laughing softly, comes to stand by her other side and gently slips his arm around her again with a sidelong look of innocence. What? Upon hearing So'l, the Weyrleader dips his head respectfully towards the Sr. Weyrling and then smiles broad and warmly. "So'l! It's good to see you. So far, the morning has been busy but going well. How are you? And how is Sharuth? Have you two signed up for the competitions for today?" There's a bright glint to Th'ero's eyes then and a hint of a knowing smile. Surely… the Weyrleader is not in the rosters? Yet if he would mud wrestle with this own Wingriders and weyrfolk…

Kimmila turns to grin at So'l, shifting Kyzen to return the salute. "Glad you're enjoying yourself as well, So'l. Like to jump in some leaves?" she offers, amused. "Or are you signed up for some of the more grown-up events?" she adds teasingly. Shifting Kyzen again, the bluerider laughs. "Oh? Have you learned better then? You know to avoid holes, you're so good." Glancing at her weyrmate when he approaches, brows lift. "Have /you/ signed up for anything?" she asks, grinning from him to So'l and back again. "If I remember right, you're both competing in the noon event…"

"Hey!" So'l replies back to Kyzen and nods. "Yep, Kyzen is very smart and /very/ helpful," he stresses to both parents, winking in that way adults do when humoring children. "As a matter of fact, we /are/ signed up," So'l chuckles, responding to Th'ero's questions. "And it's good to see you, too. Sharuth bids you all hello, by the way," he smiles before looking to Kyzen. "Especially to you," he says to the boy. "Sharuth wishes to thank you for helping me when he could not. Sothank you," he chuckles. Kimmila is then discussing both he /and/ Th'ero being signed up for the noontime games and he can't help but get a little nervous then. "Oh, I didn't realize you were competing today, Th'ero. Try to not break any of my bones?" He smirks, knowing the events probably won't get that crazy.

"I want to jump in some leaves!" Kyzen exclaims cheerily and promptly begins to squirm against Kimmila's side. DOWN! He wants it. The toddler will pause briefly when So'l addresses him and the thanks will have the boy ducking his head a bit against his mother's shoulder in shyness. "Welcome." he murmurs again, until he overcomes a bit of it. "I like to help! The Harpers say it's good to help others. And I am good! No play near holes. No touch hot klah." Yep, he's got some key lessons down, alright! Th'ero just watches his son for a moment and shakes his head, only to grin for the stressed praise from So'l. Chuckling, he nods to Kimmila. Oh yes, he has signed up! "I don't usually make it a known thing if I am signing up or not," he explains to So'l and then snorts. "So long as you don't break any of mine! Our names are in the pool for the noon competition. If I remember right… there is still some room for it. Clearly, no one has the courage to pit their skills against two bronzeriders in a simple race." he drawls and there's a pointed sidelong look to Kimmila and a quirked smile. Was that a hidden challenge?

Kimmila sets the boy down, resisting the urge to just throw him into that pile of leaves. Knowing her luck there'd be a big rock in there and he'd hurt himself. "Right. No holes, and no klah." That's two lessons down, about a billion more to go? Raising kids is hard. Yay, fostering. Arching a brow at Th'ero, she smirks a bit. Hardly hidden! "Varmiroth and I didn't want to swoop in and show you all up with our skills," she drawls in a mimicry of Th'ero's voice. "But if you insist, I suppose there's room in our schedule for a /simple/ race. I'm sure it'll be over quickly."

So'l can't help but chuckle at Kyzen's youthful energy and understanding of the world. But then Th'ero confirms that he has, indeed, signed up and oh look, now Kimmila is, too! "I don't know, Th'ero…blues can be really fast during short flights. I think we may have our work cut out for us," So'l grins at both the Weyrleader and the bluerider. For a moment, the bronzerider looks far away before he chuckles and says, "Sharuth is confident that Velokraeth will outrace Varmiroth, if only because his wings are so 'magnificent and everly powerful'. Exact words," he smirks. "I've told him /never/ to underestimate a blue, especially not Varmiroth," he grins. As to who Sharuth thinks will win overall, however, no mention is made.

Better safe than sorry, but Kyzen is happy enough with just being put down so he can tumble back into the leaves and roll about as toddlers do. At least he's easily entertained? "Oh, bragging already?" he teases Kimmila, giving her a sharp look and a broadening smile. One that is extended to So'l, as the Weyrleader is very much in high spirits and a competitive mood. "Who said anything about a short flight? I said it was simple but not easy." Wait, what? "It's a long distance course and there are targets to collect…" Uh oh. What'd he just get them all pulled into? "Sharuth is too kind with his compliments! Velokraeth is pleased that he has such confidence, though he's inclined to say it will be Sharuth who will outstrip everyone in this. It's not all about speed!" he muses.

Mid-morning sees the square busy with folk drifting in to see what the Trader's have brought in on their last stop before winter sets in. The Games are well underway, though the first competitions aren't slated for a few moments yet. It's a cool, crisp but comfortable autumn day and the Weyr is in a festive mood. Th'ero, Kimmila and So'l all stand to the side of one of the smaller squares by a pile of raked leaves where Kyzen is entertaining himself by running and rolling through the leaves.

Kimmila laughs, shaking her head at So'l's comments. "No, you should never underestimate Varmiroth," she agrees. Though she's snickering at Sharuth's description of Velokraeth. "Well then we should see who wins in this contest. Long distance though, I'd think the bronzes have the edge there."

"Sharuth and I are strong but we don't have the experience that you two do," So'l smiles back at Th'ero and Kimmila. "Even so, we look forward to competing. If nothing else because it will be fun," he chuckles, genuinely meaning that. He and Sharuth aren't as competitive as others, though that's not to say they won't enjoy pitting skill against skill. "Shore distance or long, may the winds ever be in your favor," So'l grins at the pair. "I should probably get Sharuth strapped up and ready to go. Looking forward to that race," he smiles before waving to Kyzen. "Good to see you, Saver of Abigail! Keep those leaves in line," he smirks before winking at the boy's parents and heading off towards the center bowl.

Backwinging to a landing is a bright green Typriaeth. But have no fears she's no more brighter today than normal! Mounted up is Anique who slides down with a solid thump to the green hide once she's on the ground. Spying the pair she strides over and offers a salute. "G'day Weyrleader, Rider Kimilia." a sideways glance is cast towards Kyzen and his leaves. Typriaeth croons a sweet greeting towards the other riders.

"We'll just have to see, won't we?" Th'ero drawls with a wry grin to Kimmila and a low chuckle. "That's the spirit, So'l!" he tells the bronze Sr. Weyrling and then nods his head in a dismissive way. "Go on, then. We're gathering on the tooth crags!" He informs So'l before he wanders off, only to turn and greet Anique with a respectful nod. "Good day, Anique! How're you?" There's no awkwardness from the Weyrleader, behaving just as he would have any time prior to Typriaeth's flight. Kyzen has finished playing and tugs on Kimmila's pant leg to gain her attention and then peer up at her with the 'I'm tired' look. Which means he's either about to become one irritated toddler or conk out for a nap. "I think it's time he's given back to Tlazio. He was here with his family but they went to see the Traders." Th'ero murmurs to Kimmila, only to glance back to Anique. "Sign up for the competitions? There's one for a race coming up. I think having Typriaeth will even the score a bit!"

Kimmila laughs, waving as So'l temporarily departs to go get ready for the race. Watching Kyzen for a moment, the bluerider slides her hands into her pockets and then smiles, nodding a greeting to Anique. "Hello, Anique. How are you and Typriaeth?" Her gaze darts between Anique and Th'ero and back again, lips shifting in a small smile. Then Kyzen is tugging on her pants so she bends down to scoop up the toddler, cradling him against her and rubbing her back. "Did you have fun?" she murmurs, avoiding the dreaded 'N-A-P' word. But she's /thinking/ it! "Let me go see if I can find him," she murmurs, moving in that direction.

"Doing very well sir! Typriaeth is anxious for graduation." Anique grins easily, perhaps a shadow of relief crossing her eyes as Th'ero seems to be acting no different than normal! One the kid comes and tugs at Kimmila's let, she gives him another look. Kids! Seems Anique's view points on kids doesn't seem to have changed any. A smile though is give to the blue rider. "We've moved into our new weyr. It's got such a beautiful view of the lake." "Compeitions? No..I don't think I've signed up for them. Typriaeth says she can outfly anyone."

Th'ero laughs softly. "Then by all means sign up! At the very least so Varmiroth can have some worthwhile challenge! Isn't that right, Kimmila?" he drawls to her, before she departs to see Kyzen off back to his foster family. Already the toddler is starting to doze, his "farewell" to everyone a large yawn and sleepy eyed look. The Weyrleader will watch as Kimmila moves off and once she's out of sight, he will look back to Anique. "I'm sure you are, as are the other Weyrlings. Have you hopes for a certain Wing?" Th'ero asks curiously and idly flicks a clinging leaf from the sleeve of his thick fabric tunic. "Glad to hear that you like your new weyr too. So you've settled in, then?"

Kimmila isn't long, as her brother isn't hard to find. Returning, she slips up beside Th'ero and loops an arm around his waist. "Signed up for the race, too," she informs him with a laugh. "Oh, yes, Typ is a worthy opponent. But if it's endurance…again, the bronzes have the lead there. Nice view of the lake? That's excellent, except when the old uncles are doing their naked ice swimming…"

"Then I guess my next question is how do I sign up." replies Anique with a grin. Shoving hands into her jacket she grins a bit. "I am hoping for Roc wing actually." "Still settling in actually. Need to get a bed and dresser moved into there." she can't help but grimace a bit. "Naked ice swimming?"

"Kimmila!" Th'ero chides though he's laughing at the same time, thus ruining the entire effect of trying to scold her for her teasing. Leaning against her side, he will slip an arm around her in turn. "Greens and blues can have the advantage still, less stamina or no. The course is designed to be fair to all colours. You just have to be smart enough to see it!" he explains and with another not-so subtle jab of challenge to both Kimmila and Anique. "Rosters for signing up are in the north bowl, Anique. We're heading that way, if you want to add your name?" Th'ero looks up towards the sky then, squinting a bit and then nods. "Yes. We're getting close to the time of the first race. I believe there are two total. This one has targets to collect. The second is a double-challenge. Targets AND timed." Joy! He snorts. "She was joking about the naked swimming." he drawls, only to start a bit. "Roc?" Frowning, he goes to say something only to pause and obviously change his mind. "That'd be well suiting to both you and Typriaeth's skills. I heard you excelled at your test."

Kimmila shakes her head. "No I'm not! There's a group of old guys that call themselves the Ice Capers, and they go ice swimming every winter! You didn't know about them?" But now she looks doubtful. Surely she didn't /imagine/ all those naked old men swimming in the icy lake. Kimmila adds, "Roc has a bad reputation right now, but I agree with Th'ero that you'd be good at the tasks they do."

"I should really hope she's joking or else I'll never use that far viewer I found left behind." jokes Anique with a crooked grin. "What? For real?" Anique boggles a bit then shrugs. "Well I'll just hope that duties take me out of the weyr at that time then…" she can't help but winces a bit as she catches Th'ero's frown and Kimmila simply adds her own comment on it. "Well…yeah but I've always thought that to be a good fit for me and I'm not changing now just cause of some problems within it right now." she says with a stubborn hint to her words. She does agree though with joining them. "Yeah, sure I'll join you guys so I can add my name." sounds good to her! "Typriaeth and I did well at our test." she isn't one to brag though so she doesn't say excel. They just did their job!

Th'ero looks equally as surprised when Kimmila continues to stick by her claim. "No, I don't know about them. Then again, I'm not in the habit of oogling naked old men." he drawls with a smirk to the bluerider. "Don't use the viewer in the winter?" he suggests to Anique. Not quite the view she was looking for! Exhaling heavily, he gives the Sr. Weyrling a reassuring look. "As bad as things are right now, Roc Wing's reputation won't suffer forever. There's nothing wrong with wishing to join it and I'm sure Wingleader Yhri will be pleased for a few new additions to the ranks." he murmurs. With his arm still around Kimmila, he will smile as Anique agrees to joining the races. "Excellent! Let's be off then." Leading the way, they will make the short trek back to the northern bowl, where clearly the space has been designated more for the competitors to gather and prepare. Velokraeth is already there with his straps on and stretching out his wings and limbs. "Just over there, Anique? See the man with the clipboard? Ask him to sign up." Th'ero instructs but int he end the man comes to them.

"Excuse me, sir? We've an issue." Th'ero scowls but listens as the man explains for all to hear that someone, somewhere, messed up and not only is the Weyrleader's name in twice but So'l is to compete against him in the double-challenge race, not the noon-time opener. After some discussion and much muttering, it's determined that Th'ero will remain in both to save a lot of headache and reshuffling. What it certainly guarantees is that Velokraeth will not stand much of a chance, though the pale bronze seems only amused by the whole affair.

Kimmila nods, "Yes, for real!" And then she gives Th'ero's arm a /punch/. "I don't oogle them, you jerk." It's a term of endearment, honest. "But I know about them. Wait, you found a viewer on your ledge? By the lake? That's kind of creepy. And that's a fine way to look at it, Anique. Mature." Following after the others, she only laughs when it's shown that Th'ero is in both races. "He needs the exercise," she teases.

Typiaeth leaps up and soars ahead of them as they are headed towards the Northern bowl, landing moments before they do. Spying Velokreath she croons out a warm welcome. « Hullo handsome. Will you race too? » Anique gives a nod and looking to where Th'ero indicates she jogs over. "Sr. WEyrling to sign up please." she says. A smile surfaces a she listens to the snafu that is explained. "Oy. The competition will be good." she grins.

Ow! Th'ero grunts for that punch to his arm but his grin proves he won't take back what he said! "Uh huh." he drawls. "And what's creepy about a viewer? Maybe the previous occupant was a Starcrafter?" Right? The Weyrleader's brain has always been the more logical one, but perhaps he just wants to think that NO ONE would be eavesdropping like that in the Weyr! Nah. Now it's Th'ero's turn to give Kimmila a sharp nudge. "Very funny!" he snorts, while the man with the clipboard happily allows Anique to sign up for the first race. "Last spot!" She's told. Isn't that her luck! Velokraeth, Varmiroth and Typriaeth are the known competitors, but surely there is others? Sure enough, two browns are joining, as well as another bronze and blue. Last to arrive is another green and while Th'ero has paid little attention to the others, this one has him suddenly sucking in his breath in a near hiss. "X'on and Jiveth?" Uh oh. The riders are dismounting now and the man with the clipboard goes off to greet them to check off their names. Most choose to linger in a loose group, offering brief waves and salutes to the three standing apart.

X'on however, daringly approaches with a haughty manner. "Well, well. Look who's joined the opening race! Didn't think this was your sort of event, Wingrider Kimmila. Sir." Both titles are said with just enough inflection to make them borderline rude. Almost. But not enough for the Weyrleader to react, though he's gone very quiet. X'on sniffs and his eyes settle on Anique, his mouth curving into a thin smile. "And you as well! How charming. At least now Jiveth will have a green to best." As though she's the only worthy challenger!

Varmiroth glides down to land in the bowl, folding his wings neatly before he extends them again to stretch. He's not nearly as competitive as his rider, but he's feeding on her desire to do well. Until he sees X'on, and the blue bristles and snorts. Kimmila smirks, arms crossing over her chest. "X'on. Didn't think anything that required /effort/ was your sort of event," she says flatly.

"The last person totally could have been a Starcrafter." agrees Anique. It's solid logic! As the hitting commences between the tweo weyrmated people Anique says nothing. Let them have their fun. "Oh good!" she says as she is informed of the last spot belonging to her. "Mounted race or just the dragons?" she asks curiously. Really she should have learned more about this race before going to sign up! As more join she peers towards them. Then as X'on steps over she stiffens somewhat at his tone towards the Weyrleader and Kimmila before he is addressing her. "Would be a low blow for your ego I suppose then when my Typriaeth beats your green, eh?" she says, her tone challenging.

"Oh, I can certainly dedicate myself to something if I desire it enough," X'on quips back to Kimmila with a lopsided smirk and narrowed eyes. He gives a little jerk of his chin in a 'you'd know, wouldn't you?'. It must have crossed some line, because Th'ero is suddenly glaring at the greenrider and X'on starts and grimaces. The greenrider backs down, but not before giving Anique a sharp glance followed by a wry grin that isn't entirely charming or endearing. Slimy is a more apt word. This is not a rider to trust. "Is that a challenge, Weyrling? Because I'll gladly accept it. What shall we wager…" Th'ero steps in then. "We're not wagering on the competitions, X'on." The Weyrleader states in a flat and warning tone. "Why don't you go see to Jiveth? The others are already done and preparing to go to the crags." Polite Weyrleader-speak for: bugger off. X'on's eyes narrow further as they dart from Th'ero to Kimmila and lastly to Anique. He sniffs again. "See you up there then and good luck! We won't be easy to beat." X'on saunters off then and Th'ero visibly relaxes. "Hasn't learned at all." he grumbles under his breath, only to belatedly add to Anique. "Mounted. Come on, we better get ready. Race is simple in nature. Fly fast, fly smart. The course is marked, you'll see where you have to go. Each 'checkpoint' has a a coloured marker. You have to swoop down to get it. Even if you cross the line first, if you don't have them all, you disqualify."

Kimmila frowns sharply at X'on, and at /that/ comment she lunges forward as if she's going to hit him. Her arm is pulled back and everything, but Th'ero stops her and hauls her back to his side. Fuming, the bluerider holds herself stiffly until he's gone, and then she turns, shaking off Th'ero's grasp, and stalks to Varmiroth's side. Issues, much?

Anique bristles a tad and has taken a step forward with a "…I'll take your be…" but then Th'ero's stepping in and cutting that off. Anique backs down but there's a glare to her eyes as she watches X'on head away. Casting a worried look towards the blue rider as she stalks to Varmiroth's side, Anique can do nothing else but nod quickly to Th'ero at his reply and explanation of the race. "Alright." she goes to mount up Typriaeth's side, swinging up between the neck ridges.

Th'ero has a very firm grip on Kimmila whens he goes to lunge after Xi'on and his voice is low and growled. "No, Wingmate." The rest he says is spoken in a private whisper to her before she's shaking him off and stalking off to Varmiroth's side. Sighing, the Weyrleader watches after her and then turns to Anique. "Good luck to you and Typriaeth!" he'll call to the Sr. Weyrling, trying to recapture some of the lighthearted mood. The other dragons all rumble and warble to each other, excited and impatient to be away. Some of the other riders call out after witnessing Kimmila try to take on X'on, but they all think it's a joke, some playful bantering. Because who would be so dumb as to piss off the Weyrleader's weyrmate and start a fight with him right there? X'on would and almost did and the greenrider may have had to back down (something that irritates him) but he's smugly watching as everyone goes about their merry little way. "Let the games begin." he whispers to himself and then Jiveth is up and aloft to join the others gathering on the crags. Th'ero will mount up on Velokraeth, the pale bronze oddly quiet as he waits on his rider to buckle in before spreading his wings to spring up and take his place among the other competitors.

It's cold up on the crags, the wind here shaper than down below. No ledge is available here, just the narrow pointed crags that force the dragons to perch at angles in order to gain footing. Most are choosing to angle downwards, in preparation to leap forwards towards the sprawl of forest down below. Already in the near by distance is the faint glimmer of something coloured waving in the breeze. A flag, perhaps?

Kimmila mounts up and it's only through Varmiroth's focused soothing thoughts that she manages to regain her composure. Then the nimble blue is kicking skyward, swooping up to perch on the crags, talons gripping the tilted stone and wings fanning the air to keep himself stable and steady. Waiting. He sees that fluttering flag - or whatever it is - and he wants it.

Anique lifts a hand to show she heard Th'ero's call of good luck. "G'lcuk to you too!" she calls back as she checks her straps. Typriaeth is nearly dancing in place then she leaps up ti head towards the others gathering. She chooses her footing carefully upon the awkward perches and lays in wait the best she can for the start. Anique falls quiet, closing up her jacket and pulling on her goggles.

Velokraeth has an awkward time of it given the crowdedness of the crags and so does the other bronze and two browns. Once all are settled though, the riders on duty to "judge and referee" begin the countdown. No turning back now! Wings begin to extend and unfurl, readying for flight. Three… Talons click on the stones as several dragons shift and fidget, eyes whirling rapidly now in anticipation. They all see the flags in the distance, one for each of them and they want them. Two… Bodies tense, crouching down or gathering beneath them with riders leaning forwards in the straps and gripping firm and tight. One… GO! Suddenly the air is alive with the whoosh of air as they all spring forwards. Right from the start, Jiveth surges to the front, dropping down low to ensure she secures a breakaway from the pack. The green is fast!

Varmiroth is after Jiveth as if it were a mating flight. Only it isn't, and his drive is nothing but competition and a push from his rider to beat /her/. He drops down as well, shifting so he can take advantage of her wake, saving some of his strength for later.

With each step of the countdown, Typriaeth is twitching her tail. She's ready to go. Shifting her weight, small rocks tumble free from her perch to fall harmless ( one hopes) down below. Finally the count of three is heard and she leaps off with a sudden opening of her wings. So quick is her take off that Aniqe's head snaps back and she mutters an oath. Quickly Typriaeth surges forward after Jiveth with Anique urging her on. Her wings work quickly as she also lifts up to a higher elevation than he.

Upon seeing the green and blue hot on her tail, Jiveth seems to pour it on all the more when it comes to speed. She'll use every trick known to a crafty and skilled flyer, making sure each is used to her advantage. The ground rolls away beneath her and that first flag is all too soon within her grasp. Crowing with delight, she is banking sharp to the left and its through her that they'll figure out where to go next. The next flags are further out and set lower to the trees and Jiveth is arrowing off towards them. Behind Varmiroth and Typriaeth come the rest of the pack, all of them flying in a close cluster for now as they all vie for position. Flag after flag are snagged, the last taken by Velokraeth and the other bronze. Poor, poor bronzes. Speed is just not their thing! Well, they COULD fly fast but it'd make for one short race for them. « Fly, little brother and little lady! » He may not be able to keep up, but the pale bronze can encourage those who can. So he'll be Varmiroth and Typriaeth's motivator! « Show that uppity little snit who has the real skills here! »

Kimmila hardly slows at all as he grabs for that flag. It's a daring move, because if he were to miss it'd cost them time. But this one he manages to grab, shifting to lift it so Kimmila can lean down and grab it. The blue lets Jiveth figure out their direction, letting /her/ waste the time to look around as he flies swiftly after her.

She can do speed! Oh boy howdy can she do speed. Typriaeth veers easily enough through each point with the sound of the motivating bronze in her head. « OF course /we/ have the real skills. Smaller is better. » she says informatively.

Jiveth soars on ahead and when she snares the second flag she has quite the gap between her and those pursuing. It only serves to fuel her and her rider's ego and confidence and as she banks again to the next set of flags she is cocky enough to assume she's all but won! And why wouldn't she? But the third flags are tricky. They're set at alternating heights and Jiveth miscalculates and overshoots. Snarling, she twists almost on her tail to veer back but already she's lost her precious and coveted spot ahead. Varmiroth and Typriaeth have their opening now to take the lead! The other dragons are catching up too and as the race wears on it's clear who is lagging and who stands a chance. Jiveth is hanging on and if Varmiroth and Typriaeth have taken lead, she will be close behind them. Too close at times and she will try every sneaky trick she knows to try and get around them. But she's tiring and the fourth and fifth flags are trickier and trickier in their settings. She misses both, but so do others and by the time it comes for the last bend back towards the south facing wall of the Weyr (they've pretty much circled the Weyr itself), most are nearing exhaustion. Velokraeth is… somewhere in the back. « Keep going! She's gaining! » he warns, as Jiveth finds a second wind and attempts to bear down on those in front of her. Almost there! She WILL be victorious!

No she won't! Varmiroth, who has used his bulky form to his advantage, with the balance of speed and stamina that it gives, has pushed ahead of Jiveth and kept his slight lead. And now that they approach the finish, the blue suddenly shifts. Barely. /Just/ enough to foul up Jiveth's wingspace. He doesn't /touch/ her, but he aims to make her flinch just enough that Typ can soar ahead to win.

Twisting and turning where that is needed, Anique is leaning way close to Typriaeth's neck ridge as if that helps the air rushing over them. "C'mon luv…stay steady!" she murmurs encouragements throughout the race. "Csreful!" is said hastily at one point as they miss the fifth flag and swoop back around to nab it. It's not a short flight and indeed this young green is wearing out. The encouragement from Velokraeth helps put on a last burst of speed. Seeing Varmiroth's move, the green no longer pays any heed to Jiveth as she aims to shoot forward and keep that distance between them long enough to soar ahead to try to grab the win. The normal chatty green is actually quiet in concentration ( and breathless too).

The tactic works! Jiveth flinches and then snarls at Varmiroth, aware of what he's done and furious not at him but at herself for not thinking of such craftiness! She should have known not to underestimate the blue! And now it's cost her, as Typriaeth is ahead of them all and she is out of energy. At the "finish line" which is the north bowl itself, Typriaeth will claim the winning spot, with Varmiroth second and the other blue third when he sneaks past to edge Jiveth out entirely from the winning circle. She'll wind up fourth, with the browns as fifth and sixth and the other bronze along with Velokraeth as seventh and eighth. They're welcomed back with cheers from the spectators and the warbles and calls of many dragons who watch from the ledges. It was a good, clean race to them and with all the close flying it made for great entertainment and a bright start to the day's festivities. Little do they know!