Logs:Doing Business
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| RL Date: 26 June, 2012 |
| Who: Azaylia |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Vignette |
| What: Azaylia sets out with an idea and Hraedhyth actually helps this time. |
| Where: Smith Workroom, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 1, Month 2, Turn 29 (Interval 10) |
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| Smith Workroom, High Reaches Weyr Although the forge is outside in the bowl, the weyr smiths do have a workroom of their own indoors, designed for projects of a smaller nature. It's not as large as some of the other workrooms, but it does have the advantage of two narrow, glassed-in windows built into the far wall, providing light that is adequately supplemented by a series of glows attached to the walls. Against the right-hand wall, a small pump and basin provides water, and a single hearth warmth. Long workbenches sit flush against the rest of the walls, wide enough to provide a generous working space. Storage is provided in the form of long racks and shelves above the benches, upon which a collection of tools and equipment have been carefully sorted. Azaylia was uncomfortable. She knew that she shouldn't be, that she couldn't afford to be with Hraedhyth waiting directly outside the craft complex. The weyrling sat on one of the long benches in the workshop, hands folded in her lap as she chose to deal with being over-warm rather than remove her giant fur coat. She stared down at the table in front of her, though she could see the crafter at the top edge of her vision. His massive features were fuzzy and out of focus for now, pensive hrms and hums leaving the man-shaped blob. « He is taking too long. » Hraedhyth didn't whine, though there was an impatient rattle of bone, clanking almost musically against taut drum skin. « It is disrespectful. » "So..." Azaylia found herself mewling, and there was a particularly loud thump in her head because of it. Straightening up, she tried again with an upwards tilt of her chin, "Can you do it?" The Smith continued to rub at his bald head, blackened digits smearing more soot and muck across the globe. His mustache hinted that his hair had been dark when he still had it, though Azaylia wasn't sure if that wasn't just more filth caught in the coarse strands. He stopped his muttering and lifted bushy brows enough for bloodshot eyes to meet her youthful face. "It'll cost... well, a lot more'n I think you got, girly." Azaylia didn't argue that, though another rattle in the back of her mind made her persistent. "Can you do it, though? O-or," She shrunk some at the possibility of insulting his craftsmanship, "Do you know someone who can?" He straightened up, giving a hearty sniff in order to help inflate himself up to his full height. Even sitting, he gave the tall girl some competition. "Yeah. I can do it. But that ain't the important part." He dropped a heavy digit onto the table, making it thunk with a quick couple of taps. "Important part is money." Reaching into her fur coat, she dropped most of her savings onto the table. Not all, but most. "I've got this. I could... owe you the rest?" Azaylia offered, face beginning to wrinkle with uncertainty. « No. » And like that, she felt her expression smooth out while the smith counted her marks, mumbling something about Keroon as he did. Hraedhyth's impatience became Azaylia's own as she wasn't sure he would even accept her offer. It was a silly idea anyway, but it had plagued her enough for the gold dragon to become interested. They had set a goal, and by her tawny hide Hraedhyth was going to help Hers reach it. He grunted, "And how do I know you're good on this deal?" Though he wasn't giving her the sachet of marks back just yet. Insult stoked Hraedhyth's flames, and those outside would likely scurry away from the heated exhale from the dragonet. Not quite a roar, but an exclamation that was heard even through the complex walls. « He dares. » Azaylia's face dropped with mild annoyance, either sharing in her lifemate's sentiment or mildly irked by that quick temper. The expression lasted long enough for the smith to catch, skin smoothing into a timid smile at his double-take, though that wasn't her intention. "S-sorry. She's with me." "No kiddin'." He did not sound amused. "Weyrlings..." More muttering there. The gold was not appeased, though rather than say anything she felt and stressed that while everyone was vital to the weyr, Azaylia was still that much higher on the tier. That Hraedhyth was, or would be matriarch, one of many in their council of golds. That doesn't matter... we aren't yet. « We will be. » "She's gold." Azaylia blurted, shoulders jerking up far too quickly to pass for nonchalance. But the weyrling's clumsy change of subject would come off as innocent enthusiasm rather than anything suspicious. "My dragon, Hraedhyth." She has his attention, if little else. "S'that so?" "That means that... well, I'll be a dragonrider. Goldrider." Azaylia wasn't sure, but it was possible that goldriders were paid more, just enough worth noticing. She could've sworn that had been written somewhere in her plethora of notes. "So you've got a guarantee of me paying you. R-right?" The silence was killing her. Killing Hraedhyth, too. Though this time she gave the dragonet no sway as she let the smith think her offer over, not realizing that she had ushered her lower lip in for a nervous bout of nibbling. "...alright. I'll do it. It'll take time." He reached up to scratch at his equally dark jaw stubble, bristles audible against his palm. "Put you on a payment plan a'sorts. Not like you're goin' anywhere." His eyes gave her a particularly intense appraisal, "Unless you're lookin' to get yourself kicked out too." "No." Azaylia answered promptly, eyes widening. Despite her obvious surprise, she spoke with confidence, "They'd never transfer me. Not me. Not like that." Madilla's words came out so much easier, now. Satisfied, the blacksmith gathered the marks in one shovel-like hand, dumped them into the pocket of his apron and stood up. "Good enough for me, girly. Expect it to be done in about a month's time, maybe more. We'll see." Azayla beamed, standing up to grab one of his hands in both of hers, ignoring the black dust coating her own palms. "Thank you! I promise, I'll pay every mark I owe." Brown eyes sparkled, inspired, "Even more if you can carve the High Reaches symbol onto the front." Her gratitude and affection clearly caught him off guard, and he gave a hearty laugh, "I'll throw that in for the hell of it. And it's not carving metal, it's- Oh, you don't care." Thick hand was tugged free and he waved her off with it, "Go on, then. Back to your gold." Sounding utterly unimpressed on that last word, he was still smirking. At least, she thought he was. Hard to tell beneath that bushy mustache. Nodding her head, Azaylia stood and gave another gentle smile, turning to leave with a bit more pep in her step than when she had first arrived. Outside, Hraedhyth had arms thrown around her ever growing head, the pair momentarily celebrating in their success. Only after did the dragonet noticed her weyrling's black palms, which was an excellent excuse for the both of them to have a soak. Of course, Hraedhyth only made the suggestion when they were halfway to the dragon infirmary, anyway. |
Comments
Iolene (Satiet) left a comment on Wed, 27 Jun 2012 18:02:49 GMT.
Have I mentioned lately? I lovelovelove your vignettes? It's like the sides of Azaylia we don't get to see as much in PC-to-PC interactions cause there are all these layers of growth (or potential growth) and possibilities.
Brieli (Brieli) left a comment on Wed, 27 Jun 2012 18:06:16 GMT.
It's true - it's nice to see her stand up for herself more... even if it takes Hraedhyth poking her to do it. ;)
Dragonshy (Dragonshy) left a comment on Wed, 27 Jun 2012 20:23:02 GMT.
Awwww. You guys are gonna make me all squirmy-shy! <3 Thanks a bunch, it really means a lot! ^.^
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