Fort Weyr - Living Caverns
This cavern, having been created by bubbles in the volcanic flow of this extinct volcano, has a breathtaking ceiling — a vast dome that arches high above the heads of the weyrfolk that scurry around beneath it. A hollow echo can be heard from loud enough noises, and the chatterings of various firelizards are consequently multiplied into a chaotic babble. All in all, the living cavern is a loud place.
Tables are scattered around the room, apparently in no particular order. Over to one side near the kitchens, two medium sized serving tables are constantly spread with snacks, klah, and other goodies. The tables look worn, yet perfectly fitted to the atmosphere of the caverns. In the 'corners' of the cavern, smaller two and four place tables are set up for more private talks or just a less chaotic atmosphere in which to eat.

It is a nice warm evening at Fort, many are out and about enjoying the sung light that can still be found and having some fun if able. Abigail has wandered on into the Caverns some time ago and is sitting at a table with a mug of cider held between her hands. There is a sketch pad opened and a pencil stuck within its pages while she peers at a picture she had been working on. A brown and bronze firelizard is settled upon the table in front of her, both of them working at a plate of food and seeming rather content at the moment at least.

From outside a high pitched whistle is heard, followed by a muffled shout, "Doc, Pond?" In walks Yurolt, glancing about the caverns, his eyes resting for a moment on the beasts near Abigail. He nods curtly to the rider and continues scanning the room until he sees his little devils sneaking meatrolls from the food table.

Abigail glances up at the voice and offers a smile and nods to Yurolt. "Hello there Yurolt. How are you doing?" Huritt her brown firelizard lifts his head, a curious croon escaping him as he watches the little imps over there digging into at the food table. Naughty lizards!

Yurolt gives a short sharp whistle and the little scamps fly smartly to his shoulders. The Doctor still has a bit of meat in his jaws as he lands. The guard turns to Abigail and says, "I'm well. Been dealing with these buggers though…a bit of headache." Despite his words he grins lovingly at the blue and green.

Abigail shakes her head slightly while she watches, a soft chuckle escaping her. "Its alright. They will learn in time, there still young after all." She points to her two. "It took them a spell and there over a turn old." Not to mention she has a large brown dragon that still does silly things.

Yurolt nods happily to Abigail. "Of course they are still wee ones. Trouble is they keep flying off and stealing food." The little babies live up to the sterotype of flying stomaches. Even now they're nodding off on Yurolt's shoulders, that little bit of meat still hanging out of the Doctor's mouth.

Abigail shakes her head and chuckles once more while she leans back in her seat. "Mine never wanted to leave my side so I didn't have to worry about that when they was little." She looks to Huritt whom is now stretched out on the table, he has a full belly and is sleepy. Tadhg is crawling on over and scrambles up onto her shoulder and curls up there, a soft croon escapes him.

Yurolt laughs with Abigail as he watches the extreme similarities of the young and old firelizards. "Pond I wouldn't have to worry about. It's Doc that's the little renegade. Pond just follows him." He smiles at his little demons and gently sets himself down across from Abi. No invite was given, but eh, he's comfortable enough around the weyr now to throw caution to the wind.

Abigail nods slightly and doesn't mind that he sets at her table, she smiles before leaning back upon her seat a moment. "Huritt is the one that tends to do that while Tadhg is just lazy. Over time they will settle down. Yer see." Her mug is lefted and she sips from it. "How has everything else been?"

Yurolt deftly scoops the little lizards off his shoulders and lays them down on the table. There's a moment where the Doctor seems about to protest, but both the blue and green curl into a tight ball and a soft snore is heard. The guard gets up and grabs himself a cup of wine before returning to the table. "Things have been…interesting…" He leans forward and winks slyly at Abigail. "I suppose you've been noticing the change in patrols? Or the people in and out of the weyr?" As a young guard Yurolt has done enough patrols through the weyr and posts that he's seen an awful lot. More than he should, but not enough to lead to any solid theories.

"I have seen some people come and go." Abigail offers as she thinks about it for a few moments, a soft hum escaping her at the though even. "Still, I've only heard some rumors here and there really." A glance is sent over towards him, pondering it seems. "Have ye heard of anything then?"

Being one of the youngest guards, minus the two platoons of recruits, Yurolt wasn't around for the previous 'campaigns' the weyr participated in. He leans even closer to Abi, perhaps even inside her personal bubble, and whispers, "I've heard something about /Gold Hill/ and…well a name…What was it. Lars? Larys? Laris? Something along those lines." He suddenly leans back in his chair and sucks down a mouthful of wine and shrugs. Clearly the names mean little to him, though the way in which they've been overheard betrays their importance.

Abigail blinks while she peers at Yurolt a few moments, she frowns at the name of Laris. "Laris is a very bad person. Who did ye hear that from?" She questions with an curious tone. "As for Gold Hill I know a few things about that place. Dan't like what I've heard neither."

Yurolt stares at Abigail for moment, wondering just how very bad Laris is. "Recruit underground mainly. Some Harper talk and trader talk as well. No one of any consequence…At least no one of rank." He sips some more wine and then starts to say something, but decides against it. Instead he leans back and asks, "What about Gold Hill? Where is that?"

Abigail ponders this and nods while she shifts, eyeing her mug and ponders. "Gold Hill? It is a hold some distance from here. There was some problems there an they seemed to have taken a dislike to us to some degree." A slight shake of her head is seen. "I thought things was being worked out, perhaps not." Or perhaps things didn't pan on the way it should have been. Not that she knows truely what goes on.

Yurolt flusters under his uniform. "A dislike?" That doesn't sit well on the guard's stomache. He drains the last drop from his cup and slams it rather hard onto the table. "A weyr ought to be able to /wipe/ any dislike off the globe…" Perhaps a violent concept, but he is a guard. Live by the sword and what not.

Abigail blinks while she hears this and watches Yurolt a few moments. "Nay, a Weyr should not do such a thing. We must all live together and work with one another. Everyone is entitled to their thoughts Yurolt and ye should remember that." It is not a good subject to be brought up with her it would seem. "There is no thread for us riders to fight so we must work with the Holds so we all can survive. In doing so we help one another."

Yurolt doesn't seem to realize that his comment rubbed Abigail the wrong way. He nods, not truly hearing her. "A weyr shouldn't have to rely on others. You riders have more power than you think. Dragons are terrifying if employed properly. That, and you have a full battalion of guards at your disposal." Maybe foolhardy words, no, in truly foolhardy words. However, the lad is still young and untried in actual battle. Perhaps he'll learn caution some day, but apparently not today.

Abigail frowns as she hears this. "Dragons are not to be used in such manner Yurolt. Is that what ye think about riders and there dragons?" Her tone is suddenly firm, and her fingers grip just slightly at her mug. "We do not go around demanding things, and we do not use are dragons to terrify anyone to get things." A faint snort escapes her. "Ye have a lot to learn Yurolt if that is what ye truly think. If I was ye I would not like Th'ero or the other Weyrleaders hear ye talking in such a manner."

Yurolt gives Abigail a look that implies maybe, just maybe Th'ero would agree with him. Then he comes somewhat to his senses and sighs. "I apologize. I know that's not in a dragon's nature. But even you must admit it's easily within a rider's." He stands and refills his cup. Grabbing a few pieces of bread and cheese he returns to the table. "And without Thread….well maybe it's time the Weyr's build a new world." He sighs again, his face turning red. The wine is starting to go to his head.

Abigail doesn't like the look from Yurolt, her gaze narrows while she watches him. "I'm not for building anything that would cause harm to anyone. As a guard we protect people not the other way around. Nothing should be taken by force either." She reaches over picking up Huritt whom wiggles about in his sleep before clambering up onto her other shoulder. "Just because I have a dragon now doesn't mean I've changed my thoughts on that aspect."

Yurolt can appreciate Abigail's position, though he doesn't seem entirely convinced. "Perhaps…" He takes a long draught of his wine. His movements are becoming more uncoordinated even as he grins stupidly at Abigail. "Enough of that…I'm shorry…Should we talk about..shomethign else?"

Abigail shakes her head while watching the now drunk guard. "I dan't think so. Pretty sure this conversation is over. Ye have a thought I have a thought. Yer also about to be so bloody damn drunk off yer arse that I'd really rather not have ta deal with ye unless I had to." Abbey has been SO well all this time about keeping herself in check, now though it seems Yurolt has sparked that fire in her for one reason or another. To a point that there is a low rumble coming from outside where a large brown Niumdreoth is settled eyeing the entrance of the cavern curiously. For a few moments Abbey is quiet, regaining her thoughts it seems before she is standing up brushing her hands off and picking up the sketch pad on the table. "Ye need me to walk ye back?" Well he is moving rather uncoordinatedly at the moment.

Yurolt sobers up at the sound of thunder. No…not thunder. A Thunderbird dragon! He blushes a bright red at Abigail's statement. "I'm sho…I'm sorry. I truly am…And no, thank you for the offer. I'll manage." He sighs, clearly bothered that he's upset the dragonrider. Pushing his chair back a bit and moves his cup away from him, resisting further temptation.

Abigail sends a faint glance towards the caves entrance and smirks faintly before shaking her head. A faint grumble of 'fine' escaping her. "I'm sorry as well. Try not to fall on yer way ta bed." She turns to leave, pausing just a moment. "Have a good evening Yurolt." With that said she moves off, heading out to meet up with her dragon. Niumdreoth croons out, large head lowering to nose at his rider as if making sure all is well. "Come on ye silly thing." Though he does get a good head rubbing before they are off.

Yurolt has done a fine job of putting his stupid foot in his stupid mouth. Well at least it's a good fit. He sighs again as he watches the rider leave. Glancing at his half empty cup of wine he shrugs and quickly downs the rest. It'd be a shame to waste it. Picking up his lizards he stumbles his way into the bowl. It'll take him far longer than neccessary to make it back to his bunk, but he will make it nonetheless. Hopefully when he wakes up tomorrow this will have been a bad dream.

'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.