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.
It's been a quiet affair, this change in Leadership. Those who protest do so quietly — or did. What starts off as quiet and calm soon begins to fracture and bubble. Little things at first; the whisperings, the gossip spoken in hushed voices. Kayeth has gone to the Sands and now broods over a decent clutch of eggs. No sign of a queen egg and for some that brings a sigh of relief. Yet there's a subtle undercurrent threading its way through the Weyr. Those "loyal" to Mr'az and those who find cause to disapprove of this new and younger Weyrleader. He started off strong but he inherited a Weyr during a tumultuous time and no one can truly fault him for cracking but he is not Th'ero and does not have the experience under his belt to handle these situations. Especially not the delicate political situation of the Holds and Halls, a twisting mass of webs that are now in a jangled mess thanks to Mr'az's lack of expertise. Relations are strained, bitterness is rife and the Weyr stands to lose much and gain little with autumn now riding down on them and winter not far behind.
So it's no wonder Mr'az is in a fine temper this morning and is in no mood for the situation now unfolding out in the bowl. Haast riders, mostly and some Thunderbird, all quarrelling while their dragons shift nervously and the Weyrleader doing little to soothe tempers. Some weyrfolk linger, watching from the shadows, while others are wise and flee less things get messy (and boy, they will).
Abigail had been off on sweeps, though word trickled back to Niumdreoth that something was going on back at the Weyr. The large brown appears from between, a deep bugle escaping him to voice his return. Niumdreoth circles the bowl and is landing rather heavily there and making people move if he must. Abbey is pulling off her goggles and gloves, pale gaze drifting over the gathered people while she jumps down. The Wingleader isn't pleased already just from the look she has as she is making her way towards the group of riders while Niumdreoth stands his ground, wings slightly unfurled and his tail lashing slowly. "What the heck is going on?" Comes Abbey's voice, her gaze snapping towards her riders rather quick like.
Zhirazoth answers Niumdreoth with a brassy, echoing bugle of his own. The molten bronze has perched himself up on the tooth crags, above the starstone. It gives him ample view of the Weyr and likewise it's hard to miss him. Exactly how he wants it! Down below, Abigail's query is met with a flurry of words, including Mr'az's barking retorts that have the Haast riders turning their focus to him, while Abigail's Thunderbird riders step closer to her. Clearly, they've chosen what side they're on. "He's ravin' again, is what he's doing." One mutters to the Wingleader, an older brownrider by his knot. It's a comment that is agreed upon by a bluerider, the story picked up by him. "He's pulling us off the duty you put us on, Wingleader, to do clean up for Haast's screw up. Saying it's partly our fault or something. Utter nonsense. Not our fault Haast can't do their damn duty!" Someone overheard that, one of the Haast riders and they're back to hurling insults at each other with Mr'az trying (and failing) to keep them from each others throats. So, of course, upon spying Abigail there, the Weyrleader (not so) wisely snaps: "Wingleader! Call your riders off and to order!" Because, y'know, she's entirely to blame for them.
Niumdreoth sends a croon around to the other dragons that are on edge and nervous around him in the bowl, no reason to stress out all will be fine. Or at least that is what he is hoping right now. "Enough." Abigail says with a low tone to her riders once comments are offerd and the insults are thrown. Her pointed look is sent to her riders and then to the Haast ones as wel. "Ye all be quiet… All of ye." Which is said to Thunderbird AND Haast riders. She expects both ses to follow her order too as her gaze turns to Mr'az. "They will follow orders that I just gave." IF not they will wish the did once this is done. "The question is though, are ye ordering them ta clean up Haast's mistakes or not? If so ye should be talking ta me, not them." She will wait tos ee what the answer is though before realling getting her hackles raised so to speak. Perhaps her riders heard things, well wrong?
The other dragons fidget nervously, answering Niumdreoth with low grumbles and chuffs to show their discomfort. With their riders so divided, it makes them uneasy but they gradually settle. At least none of them seem flighty enough to cause so much ruckus that it upsets a brooding Kayeth or any of the other golds. Abigail's warning at least silences her riders and they obediently follow the order. Mr'az notes this and his eyes narrow in disapproval though truly he shouldn't take it as a personal slight. But he does and he'll tuck it aside for now as his jaw clenches. The Haast riders glare sullenly from their Weyrleader to Abigail. "You weren't within the Weyr and this matter needed immediate action!" Mr'az answers her crisply and when one of the Haast riders go to speak up again, the Weyrleader turns on them and angrily dismisses them, leaving only Abigail and her riders.
Abigail doesn't seem to care if Mr'az feels slighted over the fact that her riders listen to her or not. She is their Wingleader, and while Mr'az is the Weyrleader the riders are still dealing with the change in power. "Honestly?" This is questioned with a faint tone. "Ye have no way of getting me attention?" They do have dragons. "What is the matter that needs to be dealt with? I will deal with it if it is so /urgent/ that it means pulling my riders off their sweeps and other jobs at hand." Needless to say Abbey isn't thrilled right now.
"It was urgent," Mr'az stresses again, not at all pleased with Abigail's snarky answer or the barely hidden smirks from her riders. He jabs a finger at them, eyes darting to their Wingleader in turn. "Get them out there! They know what I asked of them. Then I'll tell you." He levels her with a look that says he's not looking to have that argued any further and Abigail will find herself under much staring as her wing riders look to her as well.
"If ye want things ta work Weyrleader there are ways to go about doing things. Putting one wing against another is not a way to go about doing things. There is a right way and a wrong way… This was not the right way." Abigail frowns slihtly while watching Mr'az, a faint breath escapes her. "Half will go, the other half will finish what I have asked them to do. Winter is coming if ye did not notice. Things are stretched thin with certain Colt Holds and they are helping some prepare for winter to try and help so others don't turn against us. Unless ye would prefer us ignore them?"
Mr'az's eyes narrow and he steps closer to Abigail, attempting to look imposing but only coming off as threatening. "Don't lecture me," he warns in a tight and low voice, some color rising to his cheeks. Straightening, he turns to her riders and glowers at them as well. "Go, then!" He dismisses them curtly and will watch them as they turn to leave, splitting into groups. Half leave to their sweeps, the other off to sort out whatever mess started all of this. "I'm well aware of our situation," Mr'az turns back to Abigail, his voice still ringing with his temper and anger though he's careful to keep it low. "There'd been rumours about some crooked work in Haast and those riders were caught almost red-handed at it." Almost. "That's why I pulled your riders. Or are they not trained for security?" Oh snap. Kind of.
Abigail makes no move to back down, or look sorry for her comments. She only smirks just a touch and sends a glance towards her riders who do as they are told finally it seems. "Are ye?" Is questioned once she looks back to Mr'az, watching him slightly. "Did anything I attempted to teach ye over the turns even stick with ye is what I am wondering after all this." There is a pause and she blinks while eyeing him. "Why did ye not tell me, and go rght to me riders?" Her tone is low, thin even. "Honestly… I have never heard of such a thing happening. Unless ye think ye can't bloody damn trust me? Ye know very well what they are trained for, and that with the stress in this Weyr as of late /that/ the best way for ye ta get such a job done ye should have had the brains to come ta me or my Wingsecond to get this flying."
Mr'az gives an impatient and sharp gesture with his hand to Abigail's response. He's heard it all and understands it but pride has blinded him. So have his anxieties and his fears, but he'll bury all of those under his actions. "I did what I felt I had to do as your Weyrleader," he states again and yet offers no further explanation. Th'ero would have told Abigail everything but Mr'az's lack of confidence is damning. "And I'm done arguing this. There are other pressing matters at hand right now!"
Abigail just watches Mr'az for a long moment. "Which is why ye failed." She offers with a sudden soft tone and slight shake of her head. "Very well Weyrleaer. See to it I will go back to my sweeps." She pulls her gloves from her jacket and is tugging them on. "When ye are truly interested in getting to the bottom of things perhaps then ye will feel that ye can explain to me what happened to lead ye to such a decision." She'll won't keep him, he has things so far out of hand that he'll need all the time he can she feels to pull things together. "When ye do want help, ye know who to ask I do suppose." Everyone but her from what she has seen.
Mr'az gives her a sharp, narrow look and his jaw works silently but he does not rise to the bait. Far above them, Zhirazoth shifts on his perch on the tooth crags, his disapproving rumbles unheard from the distance but his posture is enough to get the hint across. "We'll speak later of this, when I've finished what I started." he tells her and that is a promise he intends to keep! Clearly he doesn't want help. Not from her, not from anybody! By the time he seeks her out again, it'll already be too late and the damage done. He turns away, preparing to hunt down those Haast riders he dismissed.
Abigail makes no move to stop Mr'az as he moves off. "Of course." Is murmured as she moves back to Niumdreoth and is soon back in the sky. The brown is of course behind his riders in her actions, everyone has had hurt feelings this night. Though she and Niumdreoth won't be back that night, choosing to stay away from the Weyr while tempers are still high it seems.