Fort Weyr - Weyrleader's Offices

Aged by time, this office has lived through the ages of Fort just as its counterparts have. But unlike the Weyrsecond and Junior Weyrwomen offices, this cavern is spacious and formed in a rough semicircle of three conjoined caves that were carved and modified Turns ago. The middle portion acts as a waiting room of sorts, holding only a few modest chairs and a simple tapestry to otherwise brighten up the plain stone walls. There are no windows here and the only light comes from well placed glow baskets.
To the right, the smaller of the two adjoining caverns has been set aside for the Weyrwoman, a large desk situated in the middle and a bookshelf pressed against the wall. A small hearth allows for some warmth in the colder months and another cabinet rests across the room to hold various supplies, as well as several books, reports and records. More tapestries have been hung there, lending some color to room.
On the left, the larger cavern belongs to the Weyrleader's office and the walls here are littered with a vast array of maps, as well as a tapestry hung behind where he would sit. The desk is large and the wood aged, looking old and a bit worn, but well tended too. Shelves and a bookshelf line one wall, crammed with rolled hides, other maps, books, reports and records and all arranged in an organized chaos. A small hearth has been built in here as well and various well placed glow baskets are hung to offer just the right amount of light in this windowless office.
Both offices have stout wooden doors that have been carefully worked into the stone. They can be closed and locked if privacy is needed but are often left open.

The evening after the fire, things have settled into some sort of routine. Nyalle is still working in her office, but the Guards are scouring the galleries for clues and dragons and riders have begun flying the old, damp sand out and dropping it between. Near the hearth which burns low is a pair of wide shallow trays, within which rests sand, smoothed out and drying. A keepsake, and probably destined for the small but expertly crafted clear glass vase on Nyalle's round table.

Things may have settled into a routine for the Weyrwoman, but the Weyrsecond has some rather large shoes to fill. He's been going from interrupted task to interrupted task since Dremkoth's mental scream jarred him awake last night. He's overseen the transport of those eggs to the dragon infirmary, ensured Inri was okay, left to help scout for the arsonist, flying over the forest with Thunderbird on Dremkoth, depending on the bronze's ability to pick up heat signatures of forms fleeing under cover of darkness. He's spent the day helping clean some of the detritus left by the fire, got pulled to (oh yeah, Th'ero meets with the wingleaders daily) go to meetings, assigned non-riders to cart burned things to organized piles for disposal…that or report to their supervisors to see if they're needed, calmed, reassured and soothed (how many now? He cannot remember) folks - and holders come to see what the uproar was, popped to other holds who couldn't show up, answered queries from other Weyrs… and now he heads to the Weyrleader's office because he's sure there's something else he's forgotten in all the chaos. He arrives, still in sooty clothes, face black with it and opens the door wearily, takes five steps before he realizes that the Weyrwoman is inside. "Oh. Nyalle. E…excuse me." He coughs and then, "Th'ero is resting I hope?" This is asked while eyeing the injured Weyrleader's desk like it might bite him.

Nyalle looks up from penning yet another note and offers D'ani a faint smile. "Come in. Have a seat. He is, yes. Well," her smile turns just a tad wry, "I'm sure he's resting as much as he's able to." Given his ability to get himself worked up into a tizzy. She doesn't envy Kimmila. "Have you rested?" she asks as she sets her stylus aside and gets to her feet, moving to the hearth to make him a cup of tea.

D'ani pushes the door shut, entering to wearily - and warily - flop into the Weyrleader's chair behind his desk. "Good," he grunts, his mouth pulling to one side. He… doesn't ask just when the man actually left to get that rest, nor how much cajoling it likely took him to go do it. He doesn't envy Kimmila either, but if anyone can manage him, the bluerider can. To answer Nyalle's question, he just shakes his head. Yeah, yeah, pot-kettle, D'ani knows says the sheepish and tired grin that follows. "I will though. As soon as…" he does a million other things. His gaze falls to the desktop, no doubt searching for instructions written by the Weyrleader. "Did, uh, Th'ero leave me a list or something of things he wants done?" Because he's not going to have Dremkoth disturb the man through Velokraeth.

Nyalle pours him a cup of tea and walks it over to set on Th'ero's desk, looking down to study him for a moment. "As soon as nothing, D'ani. If you're not functioning then the weyr isn't functioning. There's nothing that can't wait for tomorrow." As for a list? If there is one (maybe on Nyalle's desk for delivery), the Senior doesn't hand it over.

Nyalle is going to have to develop some bite - and a sharper bark. D'ani chuckles, "Yes Ma'am," but he doesn't move, not just yet (because the scene would end and what's the fun of that?) Instead he amends his question, "Anything that can't wait then?" Because he really would like food (because, no, he hasn't stopped to eat, either), a bath and sleep, in that order, as attested to by the growl in his stomach as Nyalle approaches him with that tea. "Oh you didn't have to- I could've-" he bites that back, the hand he's lifted to rub the back of his neck, comes away grimy, is grimaced at and wiped on the leg of his jeans, for all the good it does (which is nothing). The Weyrwoman is serving him. This feels so wrong! "Thank you, Nyalle" is muttered, but with genuine gratitude despite the gruff tone.

Nyalle thinks about that for a moment, because the weyr /does/ come first. "No, we should be fine until tomorrow. I've got riders working on rotation to clear out the Sands. They'll work all night, and Kayeth napped this afternoon." So the queen will be overseeing that. Fitting, since it /is/ the Sands. The growl is heard and she smiles, even chuckles a bit. "You just sit." It's her duty to serve the men of the weyr, and she moves to the door and opens it. Calling for a drudge, she speaks quietly to them for a moment and then returns to settle on the other side of Th'ero's desk. "How are you finding Weyrleader?" she asks, watching him closely.

There's a grudging relief and a reluctant nod to that answer and D'ani, who is sitting, relaxes a touch, stretching out long legs under that desk (oh damn, does that ever feel good!) with a sigh. His eyes drift shut in the moments Nyalle speaks with that drudge, but he's just resting them, honest! They open as the Weyrwoman sits in front of the desk. He's attentive to the report, nodding even while reaching for that cup of tea, which is lifted and drained by half with the mouthful he takes. About to comment on the sands, her question, totally unexpected, makes him sputter and he swallows hard to keep from spit-taking. They're going to talk about feelings now? Gah! He sets that delicate china down with an awkward clink, coughs a few times while fishing for an answer that'll suffice, "Well, it's, you know…ah… Invigorating? Challenging?" It's crazytown, that's what it is! And she deserves a truthful answer, so he grins rakishly at her, "Can't keep the women off. Now I see why Kimmila's developed her scary-face." What? That last one was true!

Nyalle tilts her head a bit when he sputters, and then she laughs, soft and easy. Refined and controlled, others might describe it. "It's very challenging," she agrees. And then she looks surprised, about to ask 'when have you had time for women today?' and 'what woman would want you as filthy as you are right now?' but she manages - just in time! - to realize he's joking. She laughs again. "Oh, is that why?" Oooh. She tried to tease the not-here-bluerider.

D'ani would probably say inhibited, but no, he wouldn't make her feel badly by saying so. One of these days he'll get her to open up and just let go with spontaneous laughter. As for women, egh, they're out there amongst the wings, not the one he wants to be there, but they are. And some of them see dirt and sweat as sexy. He was, however, joking, as he is now when he says seriously, "Absolutely!" Brown eyes twinkle at her before he reaches for that cup, answering her finally more directly, "It's like Weyrsecond only ten times bigger. Now I understand why he has a weyrthird." And he does, really! "I expect things'll settle down somewhat overnight." He hopes! "Replacing the sand sounds like a lot less work than sifting, washing and drying it." He's glad they've decided to find new stuff. "Thunderbird continues to sweep the forests for anyone out there who shouldn't be. The queens are settled in the dragon infirmary with their eggs; they've a heap of sand and warming units and they seem okay." He takes a second mouthful of tea and now the cup is empty. Brown eyes seek hers. "How're you holding up?"

Nyalle tucks hair behind her ear and smiles. "Ahh, yes." The weyrthird concept has always bothered her (it's not /traditional/) but it certainly seems to help the Weyrleader and his 'Second maintain. Plus it's not her job to tell them how to handle their jobs. "But you are handling it well," she compliments, gesturing towards his cup. "Refill?" she offers. "Mmm, yes. As much as it pained me to drop Fort's sand between…" all that /history!/ "we don't have the time to waste." She exhales. "They haven't found anyone yet though, I assume? It…bothers me," pisses her off, "that we seem to have so much trouble with folks doing things they shouldn't." There's another nod. "Yes, I've been keeping in touch with Inry and Thys. I'm pleased that was settled so swiftly. I just hope those eggs are fine." How is she? She looks a little surprised by the question, her response rote. "I'm well." And he won't have a chance to press (yet), because there's a knock at the door and she's quickly rising to answer it, admitting the drudge who brings in a tray of stew and bread to set on Th'ero's desk, just for D'ani.

D'ani has long been amused by (even while wholeheartedly endorsing) the idea of Weyrthird and has enjoyed far too much teasing Kimmila about it. Come to think of it - while he's Acting Weyrleader, does that bump her up to Acting Weyrsecond? And if so, who should become Acting Weyrthird? Perhaps Katrina, because then they'll have to eat. But wait, Nyalle's got that covered. He'll think on Weyrthird later. As for him, he'll reluctantly take both more tea, trading her cup for tray, and food from her, but he's drawing the line there. He's bathing himself - and no tucking him in either! He nods about Inri and Thys, spooning a mouthful of stew before he realizes he's forgotten his manners, "Thanks." That's mumbled around that bite, which is swallowed as a heavy frown settles on his mouth at the mention of the arsonist. "We'll find whoever…" Somehow - he has no clue. Muttering follows, (words best not translated) something about roasting them alive via firestone.

Nyalle isn't going to tuck him in. OR bathe him. She sits down once more after refilling his tea cup, and smooths her skirts. Her expression falters somewhat at his rather graphic description, but she's not disagreeing with him either. "Perhaps," she says slowly, "Fort will have some peace after this?" Yes, it's a question, as if D'ani has control over it.

Yeahno. D'ani wouldn't think so, even if his player is a horrible person to meta such. He's inhaling that stew - SOGOOD after not eating all day! He shakes his head and shrugs at the same time, his glower easing somewhat at Nyalle's question. A look of understanding flashes in his brown eyes, "I don't know; I certainly hope so! It…gets to be a bit much…sometimes, eh?" Another mouthful, which he chews somewhat more slowly, thoughtfully. "We have to find them though! They endangered two clutches, two queen dragons and their riders." His frown returns, "And until we do, I've spoken to the guard captain. I want guards posted round the clock at both infirmary entrances and one inside." Overkill? He's not sleeping unless those eggs are safe.

Nyalle nods with a low sigh. "We have to catch them…" There's no other option, right? "S'ai is going to time it," she informs him quietly, assuming he couldn't know yet because that decision was just made. "Go back to the night of the fire and watch, see if he can catch a glimpse. And then come back and give us that information. Hopefully he has something for us to go on." She's not thrilled with this idea, but it wasn't her decision. "I think that's wise, in case it was a direct attack against the eggs."

D'ani's spoon makes clanking against that bowl as he scrapes the last of the juices up, jamming the last bite of stew into his mouth, nodding. S'ai's going to time it, uh huh, uh huh and- Cue record-skittering stop while he swallows without even chewing. "He's what?" D'ani stares at Nyalle, brown eyes wide. Greaaaat. Let a man on fellis decide that the bronzerider flunkie goes on a jump Between times. They do need to catch the arsonist, but at what cost? "Yeah but- Why-" he interrupts himself to ask warily, "Has he done it before?" It wouldn't surprise him if the answer is yes, even if he's logically hoping it's no.

No fellis for Th'ero. Nyalle isn't surprised by D'ani's reaction, but then she flushes. "I…don't know if he has or not." Dang, that would have been a good question to ask, instead of sitting there in silence. "Kayeth will be in contact with them the whole time. And he's been sent to sleep, since he was a bit…" Manic. "Exhausted when he came to us with the idea."

No fellis. Of course, because a man in pain is also completely rational. D'ani eyes Nyalle narrowly, "She will huh?" Noooo, that wasn't sarcasm, not at all! "He has? Good. And now," the Weyrsecond-Acting Weyrleader rises, "Where's Th'ero keep his stash?" He begins opening and closing drawers, cabinets until- ahh he spots the sideboard and stalks to it, opens a cupboard door, takes out, you guessed it folks, two bottles of Black Damnation, held by the necks in one hand. He heads for the door, salutes Nyalle with both of those bottles (hey, it's the correct hand and besides the other one is already reaching for the doorknob). "Gotta speak to the guards and then see Th'ero. Thanks for the stew, promise I'll sleep." Note: he doesn't say when. And S'ai? When you wake up, there'll be a guard outside your Weyr to alert Nyalle that you're up, so no running off on your own! Th'ero? If you were asleep, you are about to wake up! D'ani… is not exactly liking… Weyrleader-ing… at the moment. Damn… crazy… (more things that should not be translated - but they remain inside D'ani's head).