Logs:Of Beginnings and Endings
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| RL Date: 26 December, 2006 |
| Who: M'wen, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 4, Turn 10 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 22:08 on day 28, month 4, Turn 60, of the Tenth Pass. It is a spring evening. You meander along the path leading to the nearby area. Mountainside Clearing(#420RJs) Situated partway up the side of one of the mountains of the High Reaches Range and only a short flight away from the bowl of the Weyr, this clearing is long but only couple of dragonlengths wide. A rushing mountain stream filled with the water from melting snow higher in the ranges runs along the length of the clearing. Although the clearing is fairly narrow, there is room enough for several dragons and their riders to rest comfortably. Strewn with wildflowers in the spring and summer, the meadow is fairly flat until it stops abruptly as the mountain again makes its sharp ascent. Contents: M'wen Leiventh Obvious exits: Clearing It's getting towards late afternoon, but it will still be light for a while yet. Leiventh, for once, leads the way up and out of the Weyr, gliding easily rather than vanishing between. The winds grow warmer as he leads the way down the mountain, a good twenty minute flight until they begin to reach the base. Dipping his wing in a slow circle, the bronze indicates they've arrived at their destination - though it's not much to look at, empty, unused land stretching for quite a while either way. With a sweep of wings, Leiventh lands in the middle, the wild grass whipped about. R'hin drops to the ground quickly, broad grin on his face, as pleased - and enigmatic - as he ever is, holding hands aloft as if inviting comment. Gliding in after the bronze, wings cutting through the slight breeze, Maxeoth wings down to the ground, landing with a silent back-wing, looking about himself much like the rider on his back. His rider slides down the dragons back, head sweeping back and forth as he surveys the empty clearing. M'wen shucks off the heavier riding jacket and strides over towards the Weyrleader, brow raised in a silent question. He stops before the bronzerider and the unvoiced question comes to the light with, "Well, what have we here?" R'hin follows the brownrider in divesting himself of riding gear, striding over to join M'wen partway between the two dragons. He's bubbling with barely contained energy, reinvigorated in a way he hasn't been for some time. "Don't you see?" he grins, hands spreading wide, "This- all this, it's -ours-. The Weyr's. I checked the records as far back as they go. High Reaches' Holding doesn't start until a good sixty dragonlengths west." He kicks a booted heel at the ground, before bending down to pick up a handful of the soil. "K'san, he Impressed the clutch before ours, but before that he was a farmcrafter. He says this is viable soil for growing crops." He glances up at M'wen, to catch the other's expression. M'wen's expression isn't quite of the level to mirror the Weyrleader, or even of the level probably -expected- by the Weyrleader, but thoughtfulness and excitment can both be seen settling onto his features. He looks away from the others gaze to survey the fields, looking out over the wild growth before turning back to R'hin. "Self-sufficiency." he breathes softly, "I never expected something of this magnitude to happen so soon!" He looks quickly down to the ground at his feet then back up again, "The plan begins?" R'hin lets the soil fall through his fingers, dusting his hands off as he rises, exuberance undimmed by M'wen's more guarded response. "Well, why not? What better opportunity do we have? We own the land, we have the expertise-- K'san was a journeyman before he Impressed." He takes a step to bring him closer to the other rider, one hand reaching to clap companionably on M'wen's shoulder. "You made me realize, the other day, wise man. I could wait, forever and ever, for everything to fall into place. To have our diplomat. To have my assistant. To have our-- Weyrwoman. And it may never happen. I can't let this opportunity pass me by - it's what I've always told everyone. Grab hold of it while you can." He exhales, slowly, though excitement doesn't dim, "It may take until next Turn to have this as workable land, but, we're going to start now. -Today-." "I did?" M'wen begins, a look of surprise settling on his features before they return to indifference and an added, "Ahh yes, of course I did." He gives a slow nod, clearly agreeing with the Weyrleaders assessment. "It seems things already are falling into place, we just were blind to them. I can't say I condone the drop some of the planning and grab what you can, but..." He gives a shrug and gives another one over to the land they are standing on. "It happens to be one of the best courses of action I'd guess-" He pauses mid-sentance and glances at R'hin, uttering only the question, "Your assistant?" "We must do something. Even you who counsel patience, grow impatient." R'hin lets his hand drop, taking a few steps forward to gaze over the grassy plain with a proprietary air. Glancing over his shoulder, there's the faintest quirk of his lips as he agrees, "Assistant. I need to find someone I can trust, not a rider- who can do research, talk to people, schedule my official appointments and remember my... not so official ones. I don't want to be wasting days in the records room, only to let opportunities pass me by. For now, I will just have to do what I can do." "I do?" M'wen begins, yet again. "Though yes, plans have been known to fester and rot, leaving nothing but a dream and a legacy that will never be fulfilled. Already we have begun to leave the stage most likely to end in failure, and from this I only can hope for the future." He tilts his head, a questioning look given, "I'm sure many would be willing to be your assistant...It probably shouldn't be the top of your priorities as well. Having our- Weyrwoman, is the most important." Surprise suffuses R'hin's features as he turns back towards M'wen, head tilted. "You predict failure? The beginning of the end? Do you play the pessimist to my optimist, or is that what you believe is happening?" The query is mostly level, though there's a hint of strain audible in his voice, pale eyes guarded. "Many might be willing, but many I can trust?" comes the Weyrleader's bland response. "Few, indeed." Slowly, he nods agreement with the last statement, though remains silent on that subject. M'wen shakes his head in disagreement, "Quite the opposite in fact. The chance of failure has been diminished greatly by, what I assume is yours, diligence and perseverance. It's the end of the beginning you could say." He lets out a low laugh, "But then, considering it's you, maybe not that many would be willing either? And how hard would it be for a non-rider to gain your trust in these matters?" A low-throated chuckle marks R'hin's apparent agreement. "Yes, I suppose you could say that." The latter query earns a more thoughtful look, however, and a shift of shoulders. "That is the question. But one, as you say, that can be shelved for the time being. I am certain someone will present themselves, when it is right. For now, though, I will undertake the tedious task myself, of learning whom has the skills that we can use to be most appropriate. Maybe," pale eyes glitter, "Next clutch, you and I could find our way to visiting the Farmcraft Hall. J'mian, too- his blue had a nose for candidates." "Already planning on next clutch are you?" M'wen asks with a grin, "Though I'd be happy to go on search with the lot of you. Maxeoth seems to be quite the dragon as well, getting both the bronze candidate and the gold candidate." He nods an agreement to the last statement, then adopts a more thoughtful demeanour. "So what will happen next clutch? It's something to be thought about." "The next clutch is not my concern. Teonath's will probably be next. And while I hope for a strong sire, I could wish it were possible to ban the Istan-- and now Fortian-- line from ours." R'hin's lips twist, though it seems he's seriously considering - and discarding - the possibility, for now. "Unless Maxeoth has a wish to catch a gold?" a brow quirks upwards, querying. "You still are under the suspicion that Istan dragons are more inclined to violence as hatchlings?" M'wen asks, a slight frown settling on his face. "I don't know if we can really prove it to the level of such segregation to bronze and brown riders." He pauses to consider the last query, seeming somewhat suprised by the question, "I...don't know? He has expressed his -interest- in golds, but I don't know how far the wish could take him." "Well. We shall see. Ista's queen rose, recently, so I'm sure we'll have ample demonstration soon enough." R'hin responds with a half-grimace. "I'd really rather be wrong, but time will tell." The Weyrleader tilts his head, studying the brown as intently as he does those young dragons. "Maxeoth is of the same line as Leiventh, and he surprised everyone. So, who knows. I shall keep an ear out for any of the junior queens in other Weyrs. It cannot hurt, to gain influence elsewhere." A quick grin might make it seem a jest, but M'wen knows him well enough to realize it's anything but. "Perhaps even to fix things with Fort, mm?" M'wen can't help but give a half smile, "You never know when influence elsewhere can be used to our advantage then? I don't know if I could though..." He gives a small shrug and adds, "I do hope your wrong though, I have quite a few friends in Ista and I'd hate forthat to be in the Istan dragonline." He gives a small shudder and grimace, "I'd like to avoid Fort for now." "Indeed," R'hin says, agreeably. "As for your friends... well, they are always welcome in the 'Reaches," he says, in an offhand manner, deliberately so. An unbidden twitch of lips shows at M'wen's reaction to Fort. "I've not been there since the hatching - probably for the best. I don't travel so much, these days. My duties don't give me quite the leeway we enjoyed not so long ago, my friend." A slow breath is exhaled, and he smiles. "Shall we return to the Weyr? Dinner is probably already cooking, and I've a bottle of white calling out to be drunk." "I haven't been there since...the unpleasentness." M'wen replies slowly, slowly beginning to head back towards his dragon. "I don't get to travel much either, though I have been promised a couple of trips when they weyrlings graduate." He doesn't expand further and just nods to the last request, "If you have shown me what I needed to see then yes, the weyr needs us more then the field right now, I'm sure." "Trips, hm?" R'hin says, the tone perhaps questioning. "I suggested Samialla do a trip to the major Weyrs, Holds and Halls when she's able, much like we did. I think they will learn a lot from it." A grin at that last, as he adds, "We walk on what will be our future, my friend." The cheerful words are spoken as he turns back to join Leiventh, shrugging on his flying jacket before climbing up onto the bronze's neckridges with practiced ease. M'wen has since almosted reached Maxeoth, grabbing up his riding jacket as he reaches his destination. Replying back, his tone is raised to cover the greater distance, "With Tavrie." M'wen confirms, answering R'hin's unasked question. "Though I do agree the weyrlings do a trip like we did. It will only help them discover pern and themselves." Reaching up with a practiced hand, the brownrider swings up onto the back of Maxeoth, looking at the Weyrleader for orders. "With Tavrie." R'hin echoes, a note of interest in his voice. Since M'wen doesn't offer more, however, the Weyrleader doesn't seem inclined to pry - unusual in itself, for him. With a sharp nod, the bronzerider indicates that M'wen should take the lead - as is customary when the pair fly together. M'wen nods as he gives the signal to take wings as Maxeoth springs off the ground with a powerful sweep of his wings, heading up into the sky. |
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