Fort Hold - Great Hall
Inside the stone walls of this ancient hall, you feel a profound sense of history. Here, the first holders huddled in safety as the first fall of thread devistated the land. Here, the first dragonriders lived before leaving to build Fort Weyr. And here, the most learned men and women of the crafts gathered to form the culture of the world.
Now, in these safer days of a thread free world, Fort Hold holds to its old traditions. Decorating these stone walls with tapistries showing the great deeds of the past for all to see…and to remember. There are <places> to sit everywhere, from private booths to busy tables.


Winter continues to keep it's tight grip on the Fortian region and the night roared with another blizzard, heavy snows driven by powerful winds that tapered off somewhere near the early pre-dawn hours. By the time the sun rose, the skies were only modestly overcast and the lands blanketed in a thick new layer of snow. Used to such temperaments of weather, it does not deter most weyrfolk or even holders from venturing out and about on their tasks as though nothing is amiss (and really, it is just as any other day). And the same goes for the Weyrlings, as M'icha has Aycheth rouse the lot of them up with the rising sun and order all to tend to their dragons and then get their straps on, clean up, dress as nicely as they can manage (and warmly) and then meet in the training fields. The Weyrlingmaster will be in a slightly reserved mood, still his usual sarcastic self but with a bit more of an edge to it that leaves many wondering if the comments he makes are serious or not. He'll move among them, correcting faults, ordering changes and it's only when the bluerider is satisfied that he seems to move off, his steps a little stiff and he pauses to speak to the other riders joining them — one among whom the Weyrlings would be familiar with. "Straight flight only!" M'icha will call out. "Now mount up, get in formation and /stay/ in formation. Any of your dragons start to tire, you /say/ something, alright? Don't go shutting up on us cause you're embarrassed or whatever prideful reason you've cooked up. Got it?" He'll wait for the affirmatives and then signals for the go ahead, turning briefly to speak a few last words again with the other riders before striding to Aycheth.
And the flight to Fort Hold should go uneventfully. By now, most of the young dragons have grown strong enough to make to trip without pause or rest. There will be plenty time to recover once they land outside the courtyard. M'icha relays through Aycheth where they're to land, again in formation. Good practice, but it's also meant to be a bit of show for the holders outside. The Weyrlingmaster dismounts once safe to do so, turning to watch with a stern eye to be sure the Weyrlings follow what they /should/ know almost by instinct now. One can hope right? And there M'icha will wait for all to dismount and join him, while the dragons will remove themselves to the fireheights and they, as a group, can go to the inner courtyards. No one has come to greet them yet, though there are a few curious onlookers who happen to "wander" by at a distance.

Kimmila is one of the riders along for the ride, so to speak, and she dismounts along with the rest of them, having flown at M'icha's right wingtip. While Varmiroth joins the others on the heights, Kimm pushes back her hood and follows along towards the courtyard, leaning over to murmur something quietly to the Weyrlingmaster. The words 'expected' and 'warmth' are overheard as they head through the courtyard towards the great doors that lead into the North's first Hold.

Kouzevelth landing is probably making the show for the Holders quite good, as it's an area in which despite her awkward proportions, she excels. Her downward glide is elegant and her oversized wings settle neatly enough against her sides when she touches down. Inri is wrapped in a new jacket, fluffy-wool lined and well-matched to her coloring, that probably ran her just about completely broke. No signs of anything but delight at showing it off, though; it and her lifemate's skills at landing, especially since Inri's dismount is nowhere near so comfortable and poised.

It's nothing new to be up with the dawn and caring for Dremkoth has become a well-rehearsed routine by now. Since flight practice began, however, although D'ani is swift, he's extra diligent about both examining the bronze's hide during oiling and strap checks when harnessing. He might be one of the last to be ready but he's satisfied they're in order. Dremkoth's hide is gleaming and his own dark, short hair smoothed neatly, white shirt crisply-pressed, fur-lined flight jacket, pants and boots all shining. He's also used to the masters at the beastcraft hall, so Micha's remarks are taken in stride with perhaps a furtive glance or two at the Weyrlings nearest him - who happen to be Inri and Abigail - to see how they're faring. He's nodded dutifully to the charge regarding not over-taxing their young dragons. As always, he's exhilarated in the flight over the snow-clad mountains, short as it seems to Fort Hold, throat tight with pride in the group as the smart formation lands in the courtyard. His face though, doesn't show it, schooled to sternness even as he gives Dremkoth's shoulder a thump of approval as he dismounts, slides his goggles up to his helmet and strides silently to join M'icha and Kimmila with a curious look at that silent gate.

Abigail is up with the others, like the rest she is well use to the process, get up and get Niumdreoth all ready for the day. The brown is rather helpful with some things at least so it doesn't take all that long. Straps are checked and rechecked, making sure the extra padding she stitched into them is still holding up before going about getting her dragon ready for the look over from M'icha. Abbey has warm clothing on for sure, long sleeved shirt, thick jacket, pants and boots, along with gloves which are pulled on after she has pulled her hair back. At the inspection she merely nods to all comments and remarks and goes about fixing anything that needs to be changed. Niumdreoth shifts on his haunches, the brown getting a bit eager at the thought of getting to go somewhere. Once everyone is given the ok to mount up she waits to follow after the others up into the air, reminding Nium to let her know if he should get tired. The trip to Fort Hold is one she knows, and the closer they get the more nervous she seems to be at the idea of being home. Niumdreoth lands within the courtyard along with the others, and it takes a few moments before Abbey finally dismounts, and a slight push from the brown is needed to actually get her following the rest. Once they are at the gate she is eyeing it while she can only wonder what they are doing here.

M'icha ducks his head a little, turning it just enough to pick up Kimmila's quietly spoken words. Whatever the bluerider shares has the Weyrlingmaster smirking wryly and making a slight huff of amusement. "Figured as much. Be surprised if they didn't come say 'hello' that way." he murmurs in a low and almost lazy drawl. Then he lifts his head and observes as the Weyrlings land in formation and the only sign that they have done well to earn his approval is that he doesn't start barking orders at them or some snippy comment. Neither does Aycheth round on any of the young dragons, the dark blue already settling himself sentinel-like on one of the higher vantage points. M'icha is dressed in his more formal gear, if it can be called that. It looks a little worn in places, but not so badly as to be insulting or truly noticeable unless scrutinized up close. "Alright, so this is how it goes," he says, lifting his voice just enough to be heard by the Weyrlings, though he casts a sidelong glance to Kimmila. "She'll," Cue a thumb jab. How polite. "Be leading you guys in along side with me as we go up to meet the Lord Holder and Lady. Which means… Inri, get yourself up here and behind Kimmila. D'ani, flank her. Abigail, other side…" And so on and so forth. M'icha will make sure everyone is in position, even if he has to nudge a few in if they balk. There doesn't seem to be too much of an emphasis of who stands where and if it goes by color well… perhaps that was his intention or merely ironic or coincidence. "Keep your wits about you, remember your manners and for the love of Faranth don't gawk or do something stupid. Even if they," Cue a thumb jab towards the gates. "Do it first. You all remember your lectures. You're representing Fort. This is the first time they'll be seeing you — new riders — so… try not to screw it up, 'kay? I, for one, don't want Th'ero bearing down on us if this goes sourly." M'icha glances sidelong to Kimmila then with a crooked smirk. "Shall we then? Shouldn't keep our hosts waitin'. Lead on!" As they turn to head towards the inner courtyards, the Weyrlingmaster adds, "Do try to relax though." over his shoulders to the Weyrlings with a grin. Just a simple meet and greet! Right?

Right, /relax/. Go stand up front like the future weyrwoman you are but don't worry about it, no stress! Inri looks momentarily like she wants to roll her eyes at the idea of that even being possible, though she does her best to force her shoulders down and her face into a neutral position. She /does/ at least shoot a genuine smile toward Kimmila, who she is comfortable around, even if she isn't comfortable with the entire idea of being here to represent the Weyr. Twirling her hair anxiously around her finger until one of the riders tells her to stop — because nervous habits are definitely not befitting of someone of her intended position, and the Holders can't see /that/ — she waits, glancing at D'ani and miming a gag when she thinks nobody's paying attention. Kouzevelth's criticism is impossible to ignore, as she is already passing along emotional, wordless concepts of apology to Aycheth for her lifemate's behavior.

Kimmila rocks back onto her heels, hands casually shoved into her pockets. The bluerider is dressed warmly, her black coat lined with subtle dark blue piping in Fort's colors. She's even wearing her knot which, for those interested, is a Wingsecond's knot with an extra tassel. Watching as M'icha gets the Weyrlings in line, she grins at them and then nods. "I'll try not to screw it up," she says, giving the Weyrlingmaster a smirk. And it's hard to tell if she's joking or not. And then in they go, Kimmila hauling open the heavy doors and startling a few drudges that were clearly hustling to do that very thing. Muttering apologies, Kimmila just smiles and waves them off, striding further inside. Though her steps slow once she reaches the middle of the room and she looks around, shifting her weight back onto her heels. Waiting, clearly, for someone to come and get them. But it's time for folks to look around, at least, if they haven't visited Fort Hold before. She even lifts a hand to point out the tapestries. "So they - and we - never forget how life used to be," she murmurs. "Fort Hold has always been a strong supporter of the Weyr, and we return the favor. It's a very close, balanced relationship." So don't mess it up.

Relax? After all that? D'ani will certainly try to, and indeed appears to be as he steps to take his place beside Inri, the snow creaking under his feet as he moves. He manages to avoid nervous fidgeting with his knot or jacket or hair other than to smooth it in place once his helmet is off. For some reason representing Fort Weyr instead of the Beastcraft Hall has him a wee bit nervous, go figure. This doesn't prevent him from silently teasing Inri with a twinkled wink, a formally executed slight bow and a barely audible murmured, "Need a flight bag?" for that gagging she's pantomimed. He quirks a dark brow at Abigail's foot-dragging, but not really knowing what that's about, doesn't comment, only smiles reassuringly. He stands ramrod-straight then, silently awaiting their cue to move forward, brown eyes flicker to Kimmila and note her knot. Well, he'll congratulate her later. For now he keeps his mouth shut and steps smartly out with the rest of them, once entering the hall, however, he's giving the interior a curious look-round. He's not been inside here, though Beastcrafting brought him to the barns and pens a time or two.

Abigail isn't planning on doing anything to get anyone in trouble, she did sort of use to live here so it is the last place she wants to cause a problem. She moves over to the spot where M'icha tells her to go and smoothes out her jacket a few times, mostly to calm her nerves down. Once the doors open she sends a slight glance to Inri and D'ani before following after the others. Little has changed from what she can recall of the place, her gaze drifting over the walls, catching sight of the tapestries that she always stared at in wonder as a child. While many at Fort Hold are strong supporters of the Weyr, her parents are not too fond of the Weyr, even more so now with she being there. Parents are strange like that. The whole time she is looking around Niumdreoth is there trying to reassure her that all is fine. The smile from D'ani is caught and she offers him a faint one back.

Unaware of any stress he may have put on the Weyrlings (or it was intentional), M'icha only follows along as Kimmila opens those doors at his stiff and slightly hobbling pace. The cold is probably doing little to help the Weyrlingmaster's old injury, but he's playing it off well and not even reaching for the flask he no doubt has stashed within his jacket somewhere. Not yet, anyways. As they move further within the Hold though and then indoors, there are more folk about to sneak a peak at the visitors. Hope the Weyrlings enjoy being in a fishbowl? Because it's rapidly becoming that sort of situation as word passes through. Fort riders. Weyrlings. Occasion? No one seems to know. But it's causing a bit of a stir, since it's early enough that most chores or duties aren't /quite/ starting yet. Inside the Great Hall, the Hold is obviously well kept and in good running order, everything well tended to and preserved with an obvious sense of pride and duty. This is not a Hold where folk shirk their work, that is for certain. And at the sound of heavy footsteps, a few gawking or lingering holder folk are suddenly darting back to business or looking busy as in sweeps the Lord Holder and the Steward smartly at his heels.
Short but lithe of build, he is dressed simply but dignified to his rank, but not to the point of being gaudy or too rich and extravagant. Straight gray hair is shoulder-length and left unbound, his wide jawline bearing a carefully groomed beard. And unlike the rumors, he is a man who's hazel eyes flash brightly as if always humored or amused and it echoes in the smile he gives the assembled Fortian riders and Weyrlings. "Greetings and good morning to you," he greets, his voice rich and strong, welcoming and warm as if meeting with longtime friends as he comes to stop a few short strides away. "And welcome of course, as always, to Fort Hold." The Lord Holder executes a proper bow then of respect, which is similarly executed in a polite nod and half-bow from M'icha, and likewise is expected to be mirrored at some point by the others. "Fort Weyr's greetings to Fort Hold," The Weyrlingmaster replies in an equally respectable tone too. "May I present our newest Weyrlings," And poor, poor Weyrlings. They're all introduced, by name and their dragons and Lord Holder Laric's (wait, what?) smile only broadens further and yet is not forced. He'll even go as far as to personally greet each one as M'icha introduces them, each uniquely in some way but always polite and never quite crossing lines. "And I am sure you have met Wingrider Kimmila?" M'icha will add, turning to sideglance to the bluerider just as Laric looks up as well and his smile says all. "Of course! Weyrleader Th'ero passed on word that you would be joining the Weyrlings on their first tour. I hear you have a new report on Gold Hill?" The last is said in a quieter tone, a little more serious but he does not seem to wish to exclude the young weyrlings. Something that seems to catch the Weyrlingmaster off guard. So no tour? Or crash course in news report and then tour?

Kimmila straightens a bit when Lord Holder Laric (total coincidence, I swear) steps in with his Steward. She returns the bow slightly, her head dipping lower in a polite nod of greeting, and she waits out the introductions with a little smile, watching how the man greets each of them. At M'icha's introduction of her she smiles and nods, extending a hand to offer Lord Laric a firm handshake. "Of course," she agrees to meeting before, and then her brows lift slightly. Green eyes glance back towards the Weyrlings and she nods. "I do, if you don't mind me giving the report here?" And then she adds, "Th'ero sends his apologies for not being here himself, but said you'd probably prefer to look at me than him," she says with a little grin, clearly at least a bit at ease with this Holder. That joke wouldn't fly with everyone. Plus…it's doubtful Th'ero really did say such a thing.

D'ani notes the legendary tapistries that Kimmila has pointed out. Yes, he's heard of them in harper classes so seeing them for the first time is awe-inspiring. The stir of gawking folk goes barely noticed and by the time he blinks in surprise at them (Weyrlings don't rate quite THIS much attention back at the Weyr), they're scooting off in all different directions and the Lord Holder is there. He's had the names of all Pern's important folk drilled into him and so of course, already knows Laric's name. The question that has nibbled in the back of his mind for some time now comes to the fore as he regards the man curiously. Well, he's never set eyes upon Laris, so he cannot decide if they look similar and to ask would be an obvious faux paus. So instead, he listens to the introductions, taking the offered hand when his turn comes and having his shaken firmly by the man. He tries to smile confidently, his smooth answer instead turns to a momentary surprise when he's asked who will attend the Hold's difficult herdbeast birthings now that he's impressed. He manages to stammer, "Dremkoth and I will, Sir. Please just send for me!" Right, Dremkoth. Duh.

As usual, Inri has picture-perfect manicured fingers and smooth, clean hands to offer the Lord Holder to shake. Nobody really knows how she does it, anymore, with all of weyrlinghood to keep up with — but somehow, always, she manages. Her hands are her pride. The name is not noted upon verbally, and she shows no sign of even having thought of the similarity (anyone who knows her knows she noticed). It was news to her, though; despite her expectations of future diplomacy, she's /very/ bad at keeping track of names. What she does, instead of mentioning the Lord Holder's name, is compliment the artwork and the landscaping, as well as politely respond to questions asked of the 'spindly gold,' including correcting her name repeatedly. Kouzevelth's name. Not Inri's.

Abigail catches sight of the gawkers moving off, a few murmuring her name, a slight nod is offered to a couple that she recalls. Her attention is going to Laric once the Lord Holder does come to greet them all. She recalls him, her father met with him often dealing with guard details and reports, which she was at least allowed to join in on once she was in the guard ranks. Like the others she greets them with a bow all polite like. As her name is given, and she gives Laric's hand a polite nod the question about how her parents are is brought up. For a moment the question catches her off guard and she offers Laric a soft smile. "They are well sir, thank ye for asking." A few more questions is brought up about family and she is able to answer them enough that the Lord Holder seems content, and with that he is off back to greeting the rest. Abbey sends a faint glance over to Inri and D'ani before she looks down to the ground, faintly kicking at it.

Laric straightens when he finishes clasping his hand with Kimmila's and returning the handshake before stepping back and clasping his hands together in front of him. The Lord Holder is completely relaxed, no sign of tension or stress or hidden, cryptic games being played. It's as though he had hours to expect this visit, which is very likely. And he seems pleased with each of the Weyrling's response to his varied greetings, perhaps a well masked test of sorts in his own personal way. It's hard to tell, but at least the atmosphere remains without any awkwardness. "I do not mind at all. Is that agreeable to you, Weyrlingmaster M'icha? I know you wish to have them explore the Hold — and trust me, I am eager to let them loose, as I'm sure they are as well," And he pauses there to chuckle heartily, sparring one of those bright, humored glances to those poor (and likely awkward now) Weyrlings and a grin. Was he what they expected in a Lord Holder? M'icha only nods his head again and spreads his hands out in an agreeable gesture. "Of course. Feel free." he replies with a crooked half-smile and then he steps back. Not to disappear, but to nudge a few Weyrlings forwards who may have tried to subtly sneak away a bit. Oh no you don't! Get in there and listen! At Kimmila's little jest, Lord Holder Laric laughs and shakes his head, giving the bluerider a lingering look. "Oh, aye, I have to admit, you are a little easier on the eyes. Not to put our Weyrleader in such an ill light, of course!" And he turns again to share that amused look with the Weyrlings and ignoring M'icha's rather pointed look. Their secret? Then with a slow breath, he exhales and sobers with it. "So, what is the news with Gold Hill?" Hopefully the Weyrlings have been keeping up with their current history lessons!

Kimmila chuckles at a few of the Weyrlings' answers, giving D'ani a particularly crooked grin. Then the attention is back on her, and she nods. "Well, like you know, they are still refusing to post more guards which…well. You know how I feel about that." And her deep frown and flash of anger in her eyes should let the more attentive Weyrlings know how she feels about it, as well. "The weyr has done what we can do, without crossing that delicate line into interfering with Hold business. We've increased sweeps, and even had more riders visit and shop - which has had the double effect of casting us in a pleasing light - at least financially." Laric nods, crossing his arms and glancing around at the Weyrlings. "And your newest riders? Are they picking up sweeps as well? Perhaps some younger eyes might aid in seeing things as well." And he means no insult to Fort's current riders, and Kimmila knows that and does not bristle. "Yes," she agrees, looking at the Weyrlings, "that's the idea. Rotating as many different riders as we can, since we all have our strengths in obeservation, diplomacy…shards, even the actual running of a mine, so anything not normal can be noticed." And she glances back at the Weyrlings. "Gold Hill is a bit of a flight, so you'll be picking up some of those sweeps - with a graduated rider of course - as your dragons are able to make the trip." Any questions?

Yep. Inri actually raises her hand, waving two of her fingers back and forth just slightly to attract attention, and then dares query, "Am I going to be doing that too?" Because as the dragons age, so many things are separating her from the class already that it's almost become annoying, no matter how Kouzevelth feels about it. And sweeps are something Kouzevelth actually wants to do: "She's very — demanding about being allowed to visit this place, Gold Hill." Likely, the dragon is keeping more abreast of the situation than her rider, and that's why.

Yeaaaah, Dremkoth wouldn't know anything about assisting a distressed bovine birth and would just as soon have a fresh calf-snack, so D'ani is mentally kicking himself for stumbling there. Laric is definitely not what D'ani was expecting in a Lord Holder and his face likely reflects both his bemusement and growing approval of the elder man. He's quiet, enjoying the back and forth between Kimmila and Laric but says nothing, just smiling as is proper. Not a wide grin because well, Th'ero is their respected Weyrleader of course. The mention of setting them loose to explore has him casting a longing look at the doors lining the great hall, but he remains outwardly patient, rapt even, at the idea of hearing a real report. It's about Gold Hill? He's heard of Unvar. This has him schooling his face into neutrality, but his attention remains keen. His eyes brighten at the thought of joining sweeps, especially to an area as touchy as Gold Hill is reported to be and so when Inri asks her question, he pipes up a helpful, "I think she should. If for no other reason than to let Gold Hill know Fort Weyr's juniors are keen to be informed of current situations." He keeps his thoughts about Gold Hill letting their guard down (no pun intended) to himself for now.

Abigail lets her gaze lift back towards Kimmila and Laric as she listens in on the talk of Gold Hill, a soft hum escapes her at this. Her gaze turns over to Inri and she nods agreeing to what D'ani says. Well, makes sense to her. "Of course." Is offered once Kimmila is telling them when all the Weyrlings will be able to go on such a sweep, which she is clearly interested in now. It also helps take her mind off of where they are, and at this talk of them all going to explore the hold. She knows the place well and is not to interested in wandering around, easier to avoid questions that way.

M'icha will step in to field the question set by Inri, clearing his throat slightly and trying not to grimace as he so openly discusses the broadening gap between her and the rest of the Weyrlings. "In a sense, Inri, you do but not in the same manner." he begins and even Laric is listening intently though the Lord Holder is at least trying to look distracted and likely turns to murmur a few things to his Steward and of course give his attention to Kimmila as she reports to him. "All new goldriders are brought by the current senior Weyrwoman to all Holds — major, minor and cothold — for a sort of tour and political meet and greet. Kind of like how we're doing now but a bit more… personable." Or disastrous, as everyone knows what Dtirae found with Stonehaven, when venturing out with Elara and Th'ero oh so many Turns ago. "So you can tell Kouzevelth that Gold Hill will be visited." he adds dryly, before falling silent again until D'ani speaks up with his suggestion, which has both Weyrlingmaster and Lord Holder glancing his way, though it's the bluerider who holds the longest. "Exactly, D'ani. But it is just as important for /you/ and the rest of you to visit as well. /Any/ rider should be given respect," And that cues a rather pointed sidelong look to Kimmila. Right?
Laric frowns now, some of his humored look gone in favor for a thoughtful one as he turns his focus back on Kimmila. "I see. So we're at a stalemate, it seems. I cannot move forwards anymore than the Weyr can. Unfortunately," And the Lord Holder spreads his hands in a bit of a helpless gesture and his tone gains some hint of frustration, "It is Lord Unvar's move and he seems content in keeping us in this state for as long as he can manage before the other Lords begin complaining. But even they are sluggish in getting to me with their reports or insights." He shakes his head and then seems to recover his previous good mood. "I thank you for your report, Wingrider Kimmila. I'll be certain to write a response for our Weyrleader. I take it you will be lingering sometime in the Hold? I will go then to tend to that. Fort Hold is yours to explore. If you need anything, please do not hesitate to ask my Steward for your needs." Said man has been silent for now and remains so, giving only a polite acknowledging nod. "It was a pleasure to be able to personally meet Fort's newest riders. Enjoy yourselves and we here at the Hold hope to see some of you visit again soon — duty or pleasure." Laric gives a hearty chuckle at that and with a graceful and polite bow, takes his leave. There now, that wasn't so bad, was it? Though the Weyrlings are likely spoiled. Lord Laric is a rarity among Holders, let alone a Lord… so who knows how their next visits to some of the smaller and more remote holds may go.

Kimmila looks at Inri and her nod is firm, even as she glances to M'icha for confirmation. "Abso-sharding-loutely," she says to the newest goldrider, nodding as well to D'ani. Yup, she completely agrees. She closes her mouth when M'icha answers, her own reply bitten back though she does step in at the end. "The rest of you will visit the cotholds in a less formal way - just as you catch them, during regular sweeps. Obviously since Stonehaven, dragonrider visits to cotholds has increased significantly. I've seen to that, and organize and run an extra sweeps rotation and duty schedule. If you're interested in being a part of that - it's in addition to regular duties - then talk to me sometime." Extra duties, whee? Catching M'icha's pointed look, she arches her brows and nods. "Yes," she says, tone dry and a bit amused. Glancing back to Laric, she nods. "It is a stalemate, yes, and I just hope we're not saying 'I told you so' at the end of this." Her frown deepens, and then she smiles faintly. "We will be, yes. Thank you for seeing us and opening your Hold to us." Formal, but polite and at ease, since yes, Laric is a rarity among Lords. Fort is lucky, indeed.

Extra duties! Sounds awesome — to Kouzevelth. Who does not hesitate to send out a single tiny electrical zap to Varmiroth, informing him of such, even as Inri isn't aware of the conversation enough to protest. "Thank you for allowing us the visit, and speaking to us, sir," the weyrling goldrider tells the Lord Holder with a genuine, warm smile. She likes him already. "We'd be happy to visit again. Next time I'll bring a nice wine." She does know how to pick 'em, after all, and it's likely that wine bottles will become a regular part of whatever diplomatic process Inri's involved in.

Watch D'ani snag Abigail as a tour guide! He knows she's from here, though he is ignorant of her family history, so that ought to be an amusingly awkward tour, no? He shares a glance of sympathy with Inri when her place as a junior is re-emphasized by M'icha, managing not to grimace or protest. But but! Diplomatic visits (tho who knows what those will be like with Dtirae escorting her?!) aren't the same as sweeps and she'll miss all the action..! Nevermind, he resolves inwardly to kidnap Inri now and then, probably dragging Ezra into their misadventures also, while smirking at Kimmila's answer. They'll have collaborate to keep Inri from stifling in the paperwork, dusty offices and formal visits she'll endure. Instead he simply nods to the Weyrlingmaster his agreement that yes, all riders should be respected. His attention is caught then by her mention of extra duties, his eyes glittering. Oh yes, he'll be asking her about those! This also is echoed by Dremkoth, following that zing of Kouzevelth's with an icy trail of starlight a-glitter with both curiosity and intent. D'ani murmurs his thanks along with the others as the Lord Holder takes his leave.

Tours? Abigail can give them; now will she is the thing. She rather likes the idea of just hanging back, taking to a few and then sneaking off to hide before her parents get wind that the new Werylings are here. Her gaze drift over the few that are talking at the moment, trying to take it all in it seems. Once Kimmila is addressing them her attention is back to her. Extra duties? Well she is all for it, especially when it involves extra sweeps. She will make sure to speak to Kimmila about such things for sure. Seems Varmiroth is getting a lot of *zings* of thoughts at the moment as Niumreoth is echoing the thoughts of his rider, eager to do these sweeps and letting the other dragon know this. Her attention goes back to the Lord Holder as he leaves, a smile see while she nods and offers her thanks as well.

Varmiroth has to drag himself out of his mental doodles to accept all the mental pokes and prods he's getting, and in the Hold Kimmila can't help but arch a brow at the trio of Weyrlings she's /already/ 'heard' from. Really? So eager for more work? Shards, she's got a few bridges that need building, too. "So, yes, Inri, you will go on sweeps as you wish," she clarifies. "Though it'll be more…at your own leisure. My mother and Wiyaneth used to join the different wings on their sweeps as often as they could." Though the old, injured queen can't do that anymore. Stepping back a bit, she motions around the room. "You're on your own for a bit, now. Feel free to wander, explore, meet folks, awe them with your Weyrling-ness. We'll be heading back in a candlemark or two, so it gives you some time. I'll be wandering around the Hold shops if you need me." And with a wave, the bluerider is ducking out and away, M'icha limping after her a moment later, calling her name. No doubt discussing lesson stuff, or…actually, who knows what they're talking about. Because they're gone, and the Weyrlings are free to wander at will.


'The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967, 2000. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on PernWorld MUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.