Fort Weyr - Weyrleaders' 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.

Several days after the fire, and the sands are still being filled and the galleries still being repaired. Time is flexible, after all, as S'ai has proven. The afternoon is bustling, and the offices of the Weyrleaders are no exception. Nyalle stands in the central portion talking to a Woodcrafter about the design of the new benches. "Yes, I think that's fine…sure. Talk to Zhirayr, he'll get the marks for you for the purchase of the wood."

When the fire is put out in the ruins of the former cothold, and the ashes of the arsonist are confirmed, the riders called in for support and the scouts scavenge the ruins and come up with little. Most of everything from the cothold has burned, and what they did salvage are but fragments that can't quite fill in the puzzle. Dtirae's the first to enter the office, barely waiting for an acknowledgement. The goldrider's jaw is set firm, while fists are clenched tightly. She bears a grim look, which… Can't bring good news. Zuvaleyuth, at least, manages to announce their return with more decorum than her rider.

Th'ero has his freedom! Sort of. That cumbersome cast is gone and replaced instead by a more flexible cloth brace to help his weakened leg adjust. It's for that reason he is absent from the offices and down in the Infirmary instead with the Healers. He has a cane now (yeah, go ahead an snicker!) as well to help (and that must have took some convincing too!). The Weyrleader tilts his head politely to Nyalle and the Woodcrafter, about to greet them both when Dtirae stalks by. Brows knit and then furrow deeper when Zuvaleyuth's response come belated through Velokraeth. With a sigh, he gestures to the Weyrwoman that they'd both best get in there. "Are the others coming?" he asks Dtirae, assuming by her mood and expression that it's a report. A Bad Report. Sigh. Velokraeth will likely reach for Dremkoth now too and politely summon his rider. Maybe with a hint to bring drinks. A LOT of them.

Zeruth's present as well in the chatter of dragon, though the impression of the bronze's dark city is one of casual indifference as life goes on unbothered. Whatever occurred, he seems unbothered. S'ai isn't far behind Dtirae. He looks moderately perturbed but not the same tension as she holds. He also has the smell of smoke on him and close look at the back of his jacket shows distinct soot stains.

And trailing in on the heels of all the others comes Br'enn. His role in all this has been rather minimal in spite of his eager volunteering - leading scouts, helping with the investigation after the arsonist ended his own life. With a salute snapped off to the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman as well as Dtirae, and a nod and careful look cast over S'ai, he stands and waits, all ears.

With the Weyrleader quasi-back, the weyrsecond out and about being Th'ero's legs and gofer to y'know, save wear and tear on healing bones. D'ani's just coming in from (probably at this point doesn't really know anymore if he's coming or going) 'out there somewhere' and striding into the caverns when Dremkoth's dusk sweeps into his mind laced with the faint sounds of alcoholic merrymaking that would, were he anywhere near a tavern, drift out upon the still night air. With it, the words passed from Velokraeth, turn him on a new tangent - the kitchens. He's presently tapping a booted toe upon the office door of his accident-prone superior with a heavy tray in his hands. It's got a little of everything - chilled wine, both sparkling rose and white - and not, a deep red, a few bottles of the harder - stuff whiskey, vodka, alonge with some ales and beers. There's a pitcher of water, one of hot klah. Aaaaand last but not least, apparently /some/one had the bright idea to further load him down with…pumpkin muffins. Those are in a basket on one arm. No red hood though, sorry!

Nyalle looks up as everyone enters, her eyes unfocusing briefly. "Let's just sit out here, shall we?" she says quietly, gesturing towards the central waiting area rather than to either her or Th'ero's own offices. Bidding farewell to the Woodcrafter (who looks very curious but does not protest his leaving), she ushers him to the exit, welcomes D'ani inside, and then closes the door behind him. "You have a report to give?" she assumes, looking between the other riders and gesturing for everyone to take a seat.

"They're on their way." Dtirae promises to Th'ero, before S'ai and Br'enn are following in behind her. She is nodding once to both riders, a thin smile briefly settling on her lips before she is looking over to the overloaded D'ani making his way in. Poor D'ani! But, she doesn't move to assist for various reasons — one being she doesn't trust herself in not dropping something. "Of course." She agrees to Nyalle's statement then move to take a seat. She is still tense, jaw working still despite her attempts at calming down. "We have… A report." Not a good one. The goldrider is reluctant to look at either of the Weyrleaders. "We were unable to detain him in a peaceful manner… He… Blew himself up. And the remainder of the cothold he was in." Her hands work on her lap, clenching and unclenching as she continues. "I spoke with him before the incident. I had… Thought that he could be convinced to come peacefully as he was explaining a sort of reason behind his actions. He believed he was wronged by the Weyr. He claimed an unknotted bluerider and a handful of knotted riders harassed his cothold and took their livelihood before ending their lives. By setting the cothold on fire…" The woman pauses for a moment to take a breath before glancing towards Br'enn and S'ai.

S'ai takes a seat once offered, though remains quiet and letting Dtirae speak and make the initial report. No doubt to questioning looks after, he gives a nod of his head in confirmation. "Mis mind was clearly pretty well broke. Sounds to have lost his wife in the… incident. I think sanity left him a long time ago. I couldn't see any signs what he said was true, though, or it was all a delusion in his head and he started the fire. Whatever happened, though, he clearly had a mind out for vengeance against riders."

Th'ero grunts some form of an acknowledgement to Nyalle (sorry!) as his mind is currently distracted by Velokraeth relaying more information to him. He'll nod curtly to S'ai and Br'enn, eyeing both and taking in various details from the condition they're in to their current expressions. He's noting too how Dtirae remains tense and grim. Already he can feel a headache brewing and… 'lo, there be D'ani with the sweet, sweet nectar to banish said headache (and bring an even worse one on tomorrow). "Thank you, D'ani. You may help yourselves," he mutters, waving a hand towards the laden tray. Th'ero's got his eye on some of the harder stuff, but he'll settle in his chair first to hear Dtirae's report, then S'ai's addition and his expression quickly turns troubled and… angry. "Dead?" he says flatly. He's no good to them dead, damn it all! "You say he was insane? I… refuse to believe our riders would set fire to a cothold and be guilty of such crimes." And they not know about it! Th'ero's eyes dart to Br'enn and a brow quirks. Input? What's his half of the report?

Br'enn moves to settle himself after Nyalle and Dtirae do, stalling himself as he watches D'ani come in with his load and crossing to the Weyrsecond to relieve him of…something. Those muffins, for a start. Once all that's taken care of, he takes up a seat to S'ai's right and listens quietly. After the other bronzer's comments and the glance from Th'ero, he clears his throat a little. "I agree it doesn' seem in the character of any of Fort's riders," he says. "Still, it's unsettlin' a rider of any stripe would do somethin' like that. Unattached ones might, eh? If they didn't have access to good resources, though if someone decides to go unattached, y'd hope they have the sense to provide for themselves. 'less they planned on doin' so by bein' criminal about it…" He shoves a hand through his hair, heaving a sigh. "But somethin' cracked 'im, 'n' that would seem to be the cause."

D'ani's doing alright with that tray - upper body workout and all that. But he's only partway to a reaching a low side table where he's going to place that tray when Dtirae launches into her report. The words 'blew himself up', now those are words one doesn't hear every day. And yet, no dramatic crash of glass because he doesn't drop that tray. That makes it safely to rest before he can surrender that basket to Br'enn witha murmured thanks, then salutes both Nyalle,Th'ero and Dtirae in turn. Informal to the core, he asks, "He who?" Well the arsonist, he assumes, but names? Did they get one? He falls silent then, stepping back behind that table where he awaits eye contact from Th'ero about which of the hard stuff he'd like in a 'stay seated O Feeble One! I will serve thee!' look. He retains the smarts not to say that aloud - or smirk.

Nyalle frowns. "He claimed that riders robbed him and then murdered his family?" She darts a look at Th'ero, looking dubious and shocked. Eyes flick back to the reporting riders as she gets herself something to drink - she doesn't even look at what it is - and sits.

Dtirae remains silent for a moment, listening to S'ai and Br'enn give their input as well. Her jaw is still working in frustration, fist remaining clenched on her lap. She doesn't reach for a drink, or muffins. She's drawing a breath before speaking again. "He… Was certainly broken. Insane. But, I… I think there's some truth to the story." She, luckily, doesn't leave it there. "I don't think any of Fort's riders would do such a thing. And, I think… Only one of them would have been a rider. He said he only saw the blue dragon, but he saw a handful of riders. It wouldn't be hard to fake a dragonrider's knot." She glances, finally, at D'ani to answer his question. "He didn't give a name for himself. But… His wife was named Riska." A name he called in his final moments. The sound of it staying with her. She then, returns to her previous assessment. "I think this bluerider might be someone not affiliated with any Weyr…"

S'ai pulls his own mouth in a tight, taunt line as Dtirae speaks and remarks about the bluerider. To this, the bronzerider gives a slow nod of his head. "Seems a reasonable idea, though I'd still find is… almost unbelievable a rider could stoop to something like that. He mentioned multiple blueriders, two or three, and a brown and green. Except he said he didn't see them, only the knots. Only one he was a single blue who, or his rider, threatened to bite the head off the madman. He said all were men."

Th'ero has a cane still and will use it if he feels in the mood (and boy, does he ever!). Sadly, the one he'd imagine he'd be using it ON is now dead. Apparently by self-explosion. "If there's rogue riders on our territory, they'd best get their asses out 'less we find them. I've nothing against the independents bound to either Weyrhold but some of them take it too far. However, I'm still… extremely reluctant to believe ANY rider or any rider's dragon would allow such senseless murder. This man, the arsonist, if he was mad it could be his mind had warped those events… twisted them to feed into his delusions," he mutters and glancing sidelong to D'ani he will motion to the ales. Duh? Glancing back to S'ai, he scowls at the numbers and then shakes his head. "None of that makes any sense. One or two riders perhaps but half a Wing? And faked Knots is a disturbing topic all together," he adds to Dtirae. That smells like something Laris would do! "Riska? We should put an inquiry in with Harper Hall and see if their records bring anything up.

"I can run up over there with it," Br'enn offers with regard to sending an inquiry. "Been makin' a lot of trips there 'n' was plannin' one tomorrow. I can do it then. Or even once we're done here." If the urgency to pull an answer from that Thread proves to be as great as it likely seems to be. For the moment, the Phoenix bronzer reaches for reaches for one of those muffins to nibble at it as he listens further, his concerns over faked riders well-voiced by the Weyrleader already.

During that report, D'ani's eyes flick to each speaker, attentive and keenly noting their reactions to what they've witnessed. "Knots could have been stolen or counterfeit," he agrees with Dtirae, not that he isn't grim or worried, but. And he might gently nudge Nyalle's hand towards the water, since he knows she doesn't care for strong liquor, whether successful or not depends on her. To Th'ero he brings an open bottle of the ale rather than a whiskey on ice. He then asks the group at large, "Did he say how long ago this happened? Because if it was a long time ago…" Well then the rogue riders are long gone.

Nyalle ends up with water (thanks D'ani) which negates the possibility of a spit-take had she taken a sip of the hard stuff. "What makes you think there's truth to his tale, Dtirae? Did he name any riders?"

"I think seeing if they have records of her in the Hall would be best." Dtirae notes softly. Fingers continue to work and she frowns. "It's very disturbing…" The whole situation is disturbing. The goldrider is visibly bothered, given the way she's tense. But, death also does that. "I don't think it's a story someone would make up. He didn't name anyone. I tried to get some answers…" But then he burned himself to a crisp. "The fact remains that the cothold was burned down. He said it was… A turn? Maybe a bit longer ago. Recent. But, there's no way to verify that."

"I remember he said not a Turn since." S'ai says, giving a faint wave of his hand in gesture of what 'since' meant. "So, barring he had sanity enough remember, this wasn't long ago. Considering how damaged his mind was, I can't think if he kept on that route much longer he'd have been able to pull this off. He had a moment or two where he was almost lucid, but I have no way to really know what was on his mind. Or what was left. In the end he just lost it, acted like his wife and two, apparent, kids were alive and he went up. Loudly." He says, rubbing at one ear and maybe still clearing a bit of ringing. "Truth or no, it was truth enough to him and worth investigating for our own safety… and all riders, if it's true. Stuff like this done by a rider, even one? Could start…" A war. He doesn't say it, but the gravity in his voice is enough.

"There could be record of a cothold burning too. We'd be best to check Thunderbird's reports… starting back from a Turn ago then. Br'enn, if you are to go to Harper Hall, speak to Rayathess and if not him, Senior Journeyman Garan." Th'ero's tone seems to speak of trust for those two Harpers, be it for their skill and knowledge or — ability to keep certain things quiet. "I'd like to know where these possible counterfeit knots could come from!" he mutters darkly to echo D'ani's confirmation that knots can be, in fact, counterfeited. S'ai may not have said it out loud, but Th'ero's eyes fix on him all the same in a dark look that may hint at disbelief. No, not even the Weyrleader's mind can go there. War? Is something Pernese society has no notion of. He can't even begin to wrap his mind around the simple concept of riders confronting a lone rider in a possible skirmish. "IF it is a rider," he states flatly. "Then once he is found, Kayeth and the other golds will make sure his dragon will not and cannot fly him and we will get our answers before exiling him permanently from Fort's territory." How that's done, he doesn't elaborate.

Br'enn dips his chin in a single, curt nod, committing the names to memory. "Could be made by a Crafter takin' some odd jobs for extra marks," he surmises about the knots. "Under the table." Words S'ai leaves unspoken draw a frown upon scruffy features, and blue eyes flick darkly to Th'ero for a moment. The Weyrleader may not elaborate…but Br'enn isn't sure he wants to know the implications anyway.

D'ani frowns, listening to Dtirae and S'ai. Within a turn. Gre-aaaaat. Which is long after Laris' demise. His eyes turn to Th'ero. "Could Laris have set the task in motion before we got him? And the plan just…delayed?" Whoever did it, yes, this bears investigating. "Turns ago, oh, twenty-four or so, there were riders and holders knots as well as wingbadges found in a renegade camp south of Xanadu." A glance 'round the room. "Weyrling history class," he clarifies with a grimace. "Stolen, apparently, but…" He simply nod grimly to the Weyrleaders words to the others. "Counterfeit would have to be weaver quality," he pipes up after Br'enn. So perhaps there's a craft to start the investigation with?

Nyalle nods, finally giving Dtirae a look of concern. "Very disturbing," she agrees softly. Nodding in agreement with Th'ero's plan of action, she looks down and then up around at the others. "And you three? You are all fine? Take some time, talk to a Healer if you need to, or someone you trust about it…" The concept of war has her blinking uncomprehendingly at S'ai. "Kayeth would be happy to," she finally says quietly. "It wouldn't be too difficult to steal a knot. It's not like they're kept locked up…" No need to secure them, really, what with it being /awfully/ hard to forge a dragon.

"It could be that they were not of great quality, either. It doesn't sound like they would let anyone close enough to get a good look at the craftsmanship of the knots." Dtirae notes softly, grey eyes dropping down to consider her hands. She is quiet for a long moment before looking to D'ani. "That's one of the things I was also considering… They ran out of supplies, needed an easy target. Because it doesn't sound like they affiliated with Fort, despite being in our area. They come, demanding supplies as if they're from the Weyr…" She doesn't finish, because the rest of the scenario is self-explanatory. At Nyalle's question, the woman tenses just a bit. "I'm physically fine, thanks to S'ai…" A thankful smile is given to the bronzerider before the goldrider is rising, slowly. "If I may be dismissed? I… Need some air…"

"Riders can manage their own, once it comes to it." S'ai murmurs, resting his elbows on his knees to bend sooty back and sigh. "But if there is a rogue rider, the damage that could be done to Hold and cothold relations and the Weyrs could be bad. If there was a dragon at that cothold, we should be able to find some sign. Especially if their animals were all eaten. You don't hide a dragon's presence forever. I'm a poor hand at tracking, though, if they tried to hide their being there." To Nyalle, he only shakes his head. "M'fine, only the jacket got scorched. Rather keep moving." He does look over to Dtirae, offering her a smile and a nod of understanding before she asks to depart.

Th'ero's expression turns all the more dark and troubled as he lapses into a moment of silence while listening to the various concepts and assumptions being weighed between them all. He'll take a small sip of that ale, nursing it carefully even if he wishes nothing more to knock it back and take another. Why must these things always be such difficult puzzles? "Doesn't quite work like that, S'ai though I'd hope it takes more than one rogue to ruin Turns of hard work by hundreds of Fortian riders. Most Holders can sniff out a problem rider. Which brings up the issue of… Why hadn't any of this been brought up?" Something isn't adding up, in other words, and Th'ero looks to D'ani and Nyalle for their input. Records, reports? Why does he feel like there's a sudden Black Hole concerning all of this? "You may go, Dtirae." Th'ero nods his head in a quick dismissal, though his eyes will linger on her longer then they aught too.

D'ani's lips twitch in disagreement with Dtirae regarding quality of knots, but he says nothing. Instead, he turns to observe the three as Nyalle expresses concern for them, but he doesn't add to her words. Brown eyes are understanding as Dtirae asks to be excused, then flick to S'ai with renewed respect and he nods a silent thanks to him for keeping the junior safe. "Dtirae can track," he injects quickly, before the goldrider departs. "Perhaps she can help, S'ai?" A suggestion only, mind. That'd be up to Th'ero and Dtirae, of course. To Th'ero, "If we can get the name of that cothold, we can ask around for names of people who used to live there. I can do that while doing hold visitation." A look is given to S'ai and Dtirae. "Do you have a name or just a location?" Or do they even have that?

Br'enn nods to Nyalle's initial question. "I'm fine, too," he replies. Maybe his left shoulder is a bit sore from taking the brunt of his fall when the blast knocked him over, but it's so minor to him that it isn't worth mentioning. A tilt of his head concedes her last point about the quality of the knots, and then a slightly concerned look is cast at Dtirae as she asks to be dismissed. Th'ero's point draws his gaze back, and his brow furrows as he nods. "Good point. Someone's bound to speak up if a rider's causing trouble, eh? Maybe the guy's threatening people, or bribin' 'em to keep their mouths shut…" And if this rogue is threatening people, he's using his dragon to do it, if that bit from the arsonist's rant holds true - thought that angers the bronzerider more deeply than anything else at the moment. Then…tracking? He perks to the idea, steely blue gaze flicking between the remaining riders present.

Nyalle dips her head to Dtirae with another look of concern for her Junior. They'll talk later, no doubt. "I think we need to start, as Th'ero said, with finding records. We /do/ have records of all the cotholds in our coverage area. I'd imagine we would /know/ if one caught fire…" The idea that they wouldn't makes her frown.

Dtirae nods once to Th'ero in his dismissal, and D'ani's comment has her nodding. "I can track. If you've need of me, please let me know." As for a name, her head shakes. "Nothing… Maybe we can piece together something from the salvage from the ruins." Maybe one of the burned books will have something that can still be read. With Nyalle's head dip, Dtirae nods and makes her way from the offices. And then? She's gone from the Weyr.

S'ai settles into a measure of quiet as ideas seem to be coming together in a plan, though he does give a slow nod in agreement to checking records and news. "Just point me to how I can help anymore. I can go back and run another search, Zeruth still remembers the way and he can share the location. See if we can find any traces or clues and go from there."

Th'ero sips a little more of that ale of his, but his eyes have a thoughtful look to them and a slight edge of determination. They've got a plan at least and that is some small, small comfort. "Dtirae can track," he agrees with D'ani, "So can Br'enn." He'll look to the bronzerider. Right? "All three of you, if willing, can resume searching." They know the location, they were there in person and saw Vossler in his final moments. So it would only make sense for the Weyrleader to have them back there for now until they can get more information. "Br'enn, if you still wished to go to Harper Hall, you may or D'ani you can go in his place." As for himself? "I'll speak with Abigail and Nishka — she was Wingleader of Thunderbird prior, perhaps she knows of something. Nyalle, do you think you can look into the records here or have some of the Candidates or someone go pull them?" More hands means faster work done, right?

Br'enn gives another nod in pointed agreement. "I'll go to the Hall," he says. "I'll even go now and hop in on trackin' as soon as you decide to go." He looks to S'ai. "Just have Zeruth tell Tovihasuth. Or Zuvaleyuth can, o' course. But like before, I'm here for whatever's needed." Anything to keep something worse from coming of all this.

"No insult intended, Weyrwoman," D'ani murmurs. The weyrsecond goes on to explain, "I just meant, was it a legitimate cothold or one erected by a squatter." What do they know of Vossler, really? "We can easily check the old maps for the name (please have a name!) - and records for cothold blazes in the past turn or so, but after all the recent forest fires, I cannot, off the top of my head, think of which ones we've had go up in flames." He nods at Dtirae, relieved that they have the location. "We can check the maps, of course." If it's on there. Hopefully it is. Because asking around the legit holds for ex-squatters who've drifted about theirs is altogether different. And awkward. "I can't track," D'ani replies calmly to the Weyrleader, "but I'll do whatever you'd like me to do." That may or may not include going to Harper Hall with Br'enn. For now though, "I'll be right back," he says before slipping out.

Nyalle is grateful for a plan, and she nods to Th'ero's request. "Of course I can." Records are easy. She can handle records. "None taken, D'ani," she murmurs.

S'ai nods once more as the plan seems set and he looks up to Br'enn. "I will. Gotta make use of his attention for detail while he remembers them." He picks at a toasted piece of leather on his arm. "…I better get cleaned up and get myself a new jacket commissioned. This one'd had it. Just give me a shout when you're ready to head back."

"Will do," Br'enn says, eying S'ai's jacket. "Didn' know y'd gotten that toasted. Thank Faranth for that one, at least." A somewhat wry look is given the other bronzer, and then he glances between Th'ero and Nyalle. "Should we be gettin' to it then, sir? Ma'am?" he asks, setting his palms against the arms of the chair he's in in preparation to push to his feet. Then he'll be off to catch D'ani in order to see whether or not he's making this trip alone.

Th'ero would have inquired (and likely worried) over the state of S'ai, Br'enn and Dtirae after witnessing what they did but the Weyrleader's mind is heavily preoccupied. So preoccupied that his anger that they didn't bring Vossler in alive died away the moment they began reporting his last sad, broken babbling tale. It'll all catch up to him later. "Yes, as soon as possible. Both of you should rest first." No pushing it to the limits! "Keep us informed and notify us immediately of any discoveries. You're dismissed. Weyrwoman? A few words?" Poor Nyalle. NO ESCAPE.

Nyalle nods, pushing to her feet and gesturing to Th'ero's office. "Of course, Weyrleader," she murmurs. No escape indeeeeed.

Th'ero carefully pushes to his feet and will limp his way over to his office, nodding another curt farewell to S'ai and Br'enn as they take their leave. He'll bring his ale with him too and set it on his desk as he takes his seat and gestures for Nyalle to make herself comfortable. "What do you think of all of this?" he mutters. May was well get to the point?

Nyalle moves forward and sits, and she brought her water even though it's empty now. "It's concerning," she says with a low sigh. "And I am upset we can not question him further. The idea of a bluerider rading cotholds…"

Th'ero utters a disgruntled and frustrated sound low in his throat and his voice carries a hint of heated anger. "I'd have thought they'd be quick about his capture! Yet I cannot blame them. We had no idea how deranged this man was…" Only now they know too late. He sighs heavily and grimaces, "I doubt it was a rider behind this, Nyalle! How could they operate without being noticed? And for so long? Nothing adds up. It could be this man, whatever his name was, was so deranged he just… made up his own little dark world…" That's easier for the Weyrleader to swallow.

Nyalle nods slightly, watching Th'ero with a touch of wariness. "But it's possible," she says quietly. "Unlikely, but possible,and even with a slim possibility we should look into it. I'm surprised that, if his story is true, we missed the burning of a cothold without…any notice."

"And that disturbs me, Nyalle. It disturbs me greatly," Th'ero mutters under his breath and drains the last of his ale, setting the mug down hard on his desk as he looks across at her, grim and troubled. "So you've noticed too how there seems to be holes to this? Empty spaces where there should be none…?"

Nyalle nods, "As does it me, but all the more reason to follow up. And yes, I have," she admits. "If there were a cothold fire, we should have been informed. If our riders didn't respond to begin with. And random blueriders don't just…hang out without notice, even in an area as large as ours."

Th'ero nods his head and while they don't seem to have got any farther with anything on this day, that he's thinking along the same lines as the Weyrwoman is oddly reassuring. "So we'll go ahead with what was discussed just moments ago? Check the records. FIND the records… and try to get answers?" No leaping into things, right?

Nyalle nods. "Agreed," she says quietly, pushing to her feet. "We'll get through this, Th'ero. As always.."

Th'ero doesn't get to his feet as he has a feeling he'll be needed here for a good portion of the day. Or maybe he needs time to think? Both, probably. "As always," he agrees but in a dark tone. Maybe it's a good idea if Nyalle just… takes her leave now.

Nyalle will do so. Fleeeeee.