Logs:Of Privilege
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| RL Date: 17 October, 2006 |
| Who: M'wen, R'hin |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| When: Day 28, Month 6, Turn 9 (Interval 10) |
| Your location's current time: 15:56 on day 31, month 6, Turn 59, of the Tenth Pass. It is a summer afternoon. Weyrleader Ledges(#12138RJLs) A flight of steps worn smooth with time lead up to a broad flat area with enough room for a gold and her consort to sprall and lounge. Openings lead to a room used for conferences, the Weyrwoman's private room, and the hatching sands themselves. A round table of well polished hardwood sits in one corner and is surrounded by chairs. Contents: Leiventh Lhiannonth Obvious exits: Weyrleader SeniorWeyrWoman Bowl Passageway to the Hatching Grounds Council Chamber Sky Maxeoth wings down to a quick landing on the ledge. Maxeoth has arrived. M'wen climbs down Maxeoth's side to the ground, as the dragon rumbles softly. M'wen has arrived. Although it's warm for High Reaches, the light summer breeze is cooling enough to make sitting out on the ledge pleasant enough. R'hin's dressed casually, sleeves of his shirt pushed back, hunched over the table, shuffling through hides. The wind occasionally tries to pick some of the hides up and blow them over, though the sharp slap of the Weyrleader's hand on them seems to indicate he's mastered that particular foil. Leiventh, at first glance, appears to be asleep, as does Lhiannonth, though the faint rumble of greeting he gives indicates otherwise. The low swooping of Maxeoth is barely heard above the light wind, his entrance near silent until his returned greeting of a baritone warble are returned to the bronze. Landing on the corner of the ledge where there is still room, the dragons rider slides down the dragons side, shucking off his jacket and lazily throwing it up over the browns back. Assuming the Weyrleader knows of his presence by now, the brownrider strides in from the ledge, a cheerful grin set across his face. Stopping beside the Weyrleader, he glances down at the hides, not actually reading them, but looking to be, though not annoucing his presence, waiting for R'hin's first word. "So yesterday I promoted C'len to lead Snowstrike, and thus demoted M'rek and his 'second, whom sadly I can't even recall the name of right now," R'hin says, as if they're continuing a conversation merely interrupted, one finger marking his position on the hide in front of him as he glances up, grin wry. "How long do you think before there's a parade of disgruntled riders coming up the ledge?" he nods towards the ramp down to the bowl. "I think you're going to have to set up a guard station on the ramp at this rate, though I do thinkit's for the best," is M'wen's quick response. "C'len will be a good leader." His eyes trail along the hides, a small smirk at the number. "It seems everytime we meet your doing hidework, this doesn't sound like hte R'hin I know." A low, amused chuckle is R'hin's response to the suggestion, pale eyes bright as he drawls, "You think Maja would be interested in the job?" The laughter fades quickly, however, abruptly sober and serious. "She hasn't come to see me. I told her- if she wanted friendship, to seek me out. I really thought--" he exhales sharply, shakes his head, and begins bundling up the hides, troubled but trying to hide it. "I'm trying to figure out who to put where. I don't want to put too many oldtimers in the younger leader's wings, but I don't want to stifle those with... potential, by putting them under the more stickler of Wingleaders." A beat, as eyes travel towards Lhiannonth, and though she's sleeping, the Weyrleader nods towards his weyr. "You haven't seen inside yet. Want the tour?" A glimmer crosses M'wen's eye as he replies, "And yet you put me under the sticklerest of them all, I'm hurt R'hin, I really am." He lets out a short laugh before giving a small twist of the lips, "I don't really know what's gotten into Maja, she hasn't talked to me in the longest time, though I'm sure we'll figure it out eventually." He glances down at the hides, not really expecting them to have wing arrangements, but looking anyways, "Well if you need suggestions, I'm sure I could give them." Following the Weyrleaders eyes to the gold, he nods silently, a faint tilt of the head in thedirection of where he thinks the tour is heading, waiting for R'hin's move. "You, I know, will survive. In fact, I think you'll be stronger for, and I'll need that soon enough." R'hin says, tone firm, self-assured. He piles the hides into a stack, collecting them in his arms as he leads the way through the archway into his weyr, pointedly leaving the subject of their fellow clutchmate to one side. "I'd like that, actually," he says, with a curve of lips. "If you don't mind reading hides, too. I've some wine inside - or ale if you'd prefer - to sweeten the deal." The words are spoken with a glance over his shoulder as he steps inside. You wander into an archway leading into the Weyrleader's weyr. Inner Weyr - R'hin A sense of long-standing tradition pervades this space, the polished hardwood furniture that decorates the room having seen many a Turn, and many a Weyrleader. A large round table is coupled with a number of chairs, seated comfortably close to the ever-burning hearth. A pot of klah is usually bubbling away, lending its faint scent to the air. Across the room, a well-stocked wine cabinet is seated circumspectly next to a desk that is piled with hides in a haphazard way. A short passageway leads to the bedroom, the bed the newest looking piece of furniture in the whole weyr. A jacket is slung casually across the quilts, the wardrobe and press tucked neatly back in the recesses made just for them. A heavy canvas drape hangs across the archway that leads back out to the ledge, keeping out the cool air of the High Reaches. Obvious exits: Weyrleader Ledges M'wen wanders in from the Weyrleaders' ledges. M'wen has arrived. "I'll have the wine, thank you." M'wen reponds, following the bronzerider in from the ledge. "I'm broadening my horizons, considering ale isn't the most calssy of drinks." Seeing the deliberate act of not mentioning Maja further, M'wen doesn't press, just looking about the room with a wide-eyed expression. "Wow, nice place you've got here, though with rank comes priviledge no?" The question clearly rhetorical, he glances at the stack of hides, "No, I don't mind hidework, and I'd like to help." R'hin walks over to the table, dumping the pile on one side. A few slide off, and he catches them just in time, setting them to one side. "Take a look through them. Though bear in mind that G'non," his lips twist, "Is one of the sticklers for tradition. And he'll be shortly back in the wings as a rider." So, another demotion is in the works, it would seem. The place is barely given a glance at M'wen's comment, lips twisting in distaste. "The furniture isn't exactly to my tastes, but-- the hearth is nice," he concedes, moving towards the wine cabinet, hands hovering over various bottles before he selects one and opens it, grinning as he says, "Nothing wrong with a decent ale. I just haven't found one I like more than a good wine, yet." M'wen walks over to the pile of hides, walking a bit more carefully then he normally would, trying to no knock anything over. "Who're you replacing him with...he's Blizzard's wingleader isn't he? Well, whoever, I'm sure they'll do a good job." He lets out a low chuckle at R'hin's admission about the room, "Want to trade then? Though I must say I've grown rather fond of my sitting room." He turns back to the wine cabinet and the bronzerider, "To each their own, but it may just be my lack of experience with wines. So I might as well try to get over it." "I don't know yet," R'hin says, pouring out two glasses and stepping back over to the table to offer one to M'wen. "I'm trying to meet with some of his younger riders, get a feel for who has potential. It's a lot harder now with this," he taps his knot, grimacing, "It's very hard to make casual conversation with someone. Maybe you could try?" he asks, hopefully. "There's a list in that pile, somewhere." His hand gestures vaguely, as he slides into one of the seats, gesturing in invitation to one of the chairs. "Don't joke, I miss my old weyr," he confesses, "Especially the part where people couldn't just walk in." A beat, as his smile deepens, "We can swap, though, all you have to do is have Maxeoth catch Lhiannonth next time around. That wouldn't be a bad thing at all." He almost looks like he's seriously considering it. "Yeah, but they wouldn't let a brownrider be Weyrleader, would they? I don't think that'd be something I'd even be -allowed- to do." M'wen says, tone dry. "I just try to do as much as I can where I am, though that isn't very much. Not to many people listen to a barely out of weyrlinghood wingrider." He pauses briefly to consider the request, "I could try, though as I said, all I could do is make casual bchit-chat, nothing more." He then adds, "And do many people take advantage of the open door policy?" R'hin tips his glass slightly, swirling the liquid around, dismissive wave of hand given at the protest, "If we're throwing out tradition, my friend, then anything's possible. Even a brownrider as Weyrleader. I mean, look at Igen - they're being lead by a brownrider. Who knows how long until their senior rises again." His head tilts, expression contemplative, serious. "You're right. Not many do, but you listened to me. It's a start." He's silent for a moment, the crackle of the hearth the only noise for a short while, then, "Casual is all you need. You're an excellent judge of character. As for the open door-- not too many, thankfully. I think they're all going to Josilina instead, which frankly, is probably for the best." M'wen glances to the floor, "I don't know if I'd -want- to have Maxeoth catch Lhiannonth, even if the situation arose, though why I really don't know. I think if nothing else, we should base ourselves off of Igen." He gives a slow nod, a hand run through his hair, "We shall see what the riders think of me, though for now I'd rather not be put in the light of the public." He bows his head slightly at the praise, "I'll see what I can do Weyrleader." "From what I've heard of their acting Weyrleader, he's as arrogant as I am, which means I'm bound not to like him." R'hin's words are self-deprecating, small smile evidenced with the words. He does, however, tip his head, pale eyes focusing thoughtfully on M'wen. "You wouldn't want him to catch? Because you don't want to be Weyrleader? Or some other reason?" A sympathetic twist of lips follows, as he chuckles, "I'd imagined it would be the other way around. I'd be in the shadows in you'd be in the light. How wrong I was." The chuckle fades, and he leans back, fading into one of those moments of solemnity becoming all too common, taking a gulp of his wine. "I haven't heard a thing about him, but I don't really know why I would've. I'll take your word on it this time." M'wens tone is soft but holds an edge to it, trying to counter R'hin's self depreciation. "Another reason, I'm probably just being selfish though..." Is the response, though he makes it clear he'd rather not continur further. "And why would I be in the light? I've helped all I can and I'm happy with what I've achieved, but haven't really done anything overly spectacular." The steady gaze of the bronzerider suggests that, unlike his companion, R'hin's willing to push to find out. His voice, however, is soft, concerned as he asks, "What concerns you about it, wise man? You are confidant for me often enough, I should return the favor." He quickly drains his glass, standing to retrieve the bottle and bring it to the table, "It wouldn't surprise me if Maxeoth catches a gold someday." The latter query earns a pause, eyes downcast as he refills his glass. "You've done more than you know, M'wen. Without you, everything I planned... it would've fallen apart long ago. And you will do more, that I know." He says it with that surety he has about certain things. "Truthfully, I just wouldn't want to be in dual leadership with Josilina..." M'wen admits, looking to avoid the bronzeriders gaze. "I told you it was a selfish reason." He pauses briefly before changing the subject, "I don't doubt, he's a good brown and definately has it in him. Though whether him winning would be a good thing or a bad thing, we can only wait and see." He lifts his gaze to meet the bronzeriders, "Thank you, I hope to help you achieve the goals of the weyr and yourself." "That's not selfish," R'hin asserts. "It's not easy, especially since she's been in the position a while. She... has been receptive to changes so far. Surprisingly so. It makes me wonder if it wasn't her that was so resistant to changes." He leaves the rest unsaid, leaning over to clap M'wen companionably on the back, "I've every confidence in you, wise man. Now this," he swirls the wine before downing the rest, "Is starting to get to me. I think I'd better get some food to balance it out. Care to join me for a meal?" "We'll never know I guess? Unless you ask, but I have a feeling that wouldn't go over too well." M'wen sighs slightly before givinga stretch and looking to the exit. "I think a meal would go good about now, lead away." An abrupt thoughtful look, and glittering of pale eyes suggests that R'hin might well be taking M'wen's casual comment under serious consideration. "Hey, I can be subtle, when I want to be." He sets the glass aside, quickly pushes through the pile, and extracts a hide, rolling it up and offering to M'wen. "The Blizzard wing list." He stands, grimacing, "We're about in time for dinner, so the caverns will be packed. Can't be helped, I guess," he says, leading the way out to the ledge. You walk into an archway leading out onto the Weyrleaders' ledges. |
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