Logs:Seeking Other Opinions
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| RL Date: 9 February, 2014 |
| Who: Alida, Devaki, Raum, Riorde |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr, High Reaches Hold |
| Type: Log |
| What: Devaki has some bold plans for expansion, and seeks the input of Alida and Riorde. |
| Where: High Reaches Hold |
| When: Day 14, Month 13, Turn 33 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: Iolene/Mentions, K'del/Mentions |
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| Earlier in the day, a request was passed on from High Reaches Hold's watch dragon for a pair of dragons for an escort. They are directed to Pars Hold, where they're asked to pick up eight guard trainees to return to High Reaches Hold. One in particular might be familiar to Alida as Devaki's cousin -- Nidra. The girl -- in fact, all of them -- walk with that stiff pride of newly trained guards, waiting to be told what to do and where to go by the riders. Back at High Reaches, Haibroth's on the fireheights to greet the pair with a rousing trumpet, probably deliberately, since moments later there's movement from the Hold's entrance as a three people step outside, barely visible in the swirling snow. Pars: hold of the damned...at least to Alida. No matter how hard she tries, the bluerider can't quite mentally leave it behind. And now that she's travelling there to escort some guards back to High Reaches Hold...well, the set look on her goggled face likely says it all. It's not until after Ilicaeth's bugled an answering greeting back to Haibroth and then settled to the earth again that his rider manages to note quietly over her shoulder to the one 'girl' just at her back, "Congratulations." Once all the blue's passengers ae safely to the ground, Alida follows, escorting them towards that small group stepping from Hold out into the snow. The two Glacier dragons appear in the skies overhead laden with the recruits, and as soon as Haibroth welcomes them, Riorde's Sforzath answers with his own rumbling reply, darker and harsher than the call that meets them. The brown drops to the courtyard heavily under the burden of so many passengers, and then Riorde's busy helping them down one by one, silent except for instructions: step there, hold on, take her hand now. Until that's all done, the three meeting the new arrivals are ignored. Devaki is in the middle, a step in front of the others, the thick, furred cloak a luxury that he's adjusted to, barely aware of the snow as his gaze flickers from one face to the next. Raum is a shadow to his right, gaze flickering between Alida and Riorde with an obvious smirk and a muttered comment to his Lord, then towards the trainees that troop up carefully and form a double line. Kiatan, the Steward, remains silent at Devaki's left hand as they wait. Devaki, it should be noted, does not seem in any way surprised that it's these particular riders that accompany their trainees -- the look his gives them is all-too-pleased. "Bluerider. Brownrider." A nod for each, the formality likely only for the sake of the guards waiting, still, in the snow. "Would you stay for a moment? If you don't need to return immediately to the Weyr." Raum's smirking again, slinking past his Lord now to stand directly in front of the Guards. The knot that marks him Guard Captain is actually present on his shoulder today, deliberately. "All right, you maggots. You're not guards yet -- not until tonight's ceremony. You've got an hour to dust off your dress uniform and get ready. Hup to it." Yeah, Raum just might've slapped the behind of Nidra, who shoots daggers at him, but hurries into the Hold all the same, the red-headed Captain sauntering along behind. Given her usual habits, Alida's only peripherally noting that Riorde's there somewhere, Glacier's rider's always known to be very self-sufficient and independent. They know where each other are, and are unspokenly always watching out for one another. Devaki garners a crisp and polite salute from the bluie, who then lofts one pale brow at his inquiry - then removing her goggles and flicking a quick glance back at the brownrider for confirmationg - before likely murmuring, "Don't see why not." Nod. Raum and Kiatin both get a headbob apiece, though when the redhead slaps Nidra on the ass, 'lida's green eyes darken some. It's a close thing, but she winds up holding her peace, for once. Riorde affects boredom as soon as her passengers have all dismounted, staying near her dragon. Sforzath lowers his head to be near her level, far more impressive than she: one spare, slim rider with her hair all tucked away in a leather cap. "Lord Holder," she answers in kind. "Captain." Something about the second title has a faint edge of sarcasm, appreciable to those who know her, be they wingmate or former islanders. The brownrider reaches up to scratch the underside of Sforzath's jaw before she steps up and he lifts his head out of her reach. "A moment," she agrees, sharing a glance and confirming nod with Alida. The thing is, did Devaki see that? It seems not, since his expression doesn't charge markedly. It's only when the sound of stomping boots of the young recruits have faded and the Captain is but a shadow -- with perhaps a pleased smirk directed over his shoulder at Riorde -- that the Lord Holder steps forward, holding out a hand to each of the riders. Whether he means them to take it or shake them isn't clear. "Please, let's talk inside. It's been a while since I've spent winter outdoors -- I think I've gone soft," his chuckle is self-directed, then with a glance over his shoulder at his Steward, "Would you make sure there some klah for the riders." With a bow, Kiatan retreats into the Hold. She - again - wouldn't be herself if she hadn't have noticed the details of interactions about her, and so after Devaki's spoken and there's only three of them there that Alida grasps the Lord's hand in a firm, quick handshake and notes in low alto, "Is yer Captain given ta ass-slappin' all uv' 'is recruits?" "I don't think you're supposed to admit that, Dev." With the Steward and recruits gone, Riorde lapses into informality. She just looks at Devaki's hand, then at him, brow raised. She starts to shake, then apparently changes her mind and takes his in her own gloved hand. "What the Captain lacks in manners he makes up for in brains," is her opinion. "And the ability to slit any potential assassins' throats before they get close." The Lord takes the handshake from Alida in stride, as if that was his intention all along. "He has his way of doing things," is what Devaki interprets, and if the tightness of expression is any judge, tolerates. "My guards are well trained. If he pushes too far, they may come to me. I take care of it." He gives Alida a weighted look, as if wanting to remind her of Pars, but deciding otherwise. Riorde's casual address earns a knowing grin, "Showing my soft underbelly, am I?" with the brownrider's hand lingering in his, he moves to rest it loosely into the crook of his arm. "The Other does have his uses," he agrees in a murmur with Riorde, turning to gesture inside, before walking, with a quick, sidelong look at Alida to include her specifically: "And his failings, like all manner of men." One never knows the truth of a matter until it's presented to them, and so Alida's silent assumptions of Devaki's and Riorde's twinned 'exile' status being rendered legit is reason for her to give an inward little smile. Apparently they're buddies, too. With the brownie's words of Raum comes a small nod of acknowledgement, any potential words she might've added on nipped in the bud when Devaki speaks to her of Pars. Another nod of silent understanding is followed by minute observation of how the other two interact from the side of her gaze as they move inside, the bluie's ears taking in mention of this 'Other' with focused curiosity before her lips tip into a thin and knowing little smirk at mention of the Captain. "Hope yer new crop uv' Guards do their training justice." There's a smudge of professional pride behind her neutral tone. Riorde's response is to reach across herself with her free hand, intending to smack Devaki lightly in that supposedly soft belly of his. Familiar indeed. "You should get out more," is her opinion. "You're not meant to be inside all day." Beat. "That said, I will take the klah. And you have put him to use." Raum, she means. Of course they're buddies; it's hard not for all the Islanders to know each intimately when there's little else to do on a rocky home but talk and fight for survival. The Lord leads them into the Hold, immediate warmth rolling over them as he begins walking down a corridor, leading them left, then right, then left again. "I'm sure they will." Devaki seems certain of this, on the topic of the guards. "The question merely becomes where to post them that best serves... the Hold." Or him, but technically they could be considered one and the same. "If you like, you're both welcome to stay for their ceremony. Part of it is very dull, but there will be a feast, and I'm told the Harper has a new song he'd like to sing." It's hard to balance that level of dignity and formality when you're being smacked in the stomach. "You should drag me out more," he counters with. "Kiatan'd have me reading paperwork all day, were it up to him. And it usually is. Here," he pauses at a plain door, and opens it up with a gesture for the two to precede him. Inside, the room is rather plain -- no opulent hangings. Both have been here before, Devaki's 'unofficial office' that ends up his default location more times than not. As to Raum: "Remember that old saying? Better the seamonster facing out than the seamonster facing in'...? Io's Gram always used to say it." He grimaces, though whether at the mention of Iolene or such an Islander phrase isn't clear. Familiar indeed...not that one can really notice Alida's silent and heavily-lash-hidden observation of the pair of exiles. Left-right-left is noted automatically, just in case of emergency. "If you and yer Guard don't mind, then I'd enjoy stayin' for it..." the bluerider responds with some quiet pleasure, smirking only a little at the slap-and-grunt taking place beside her. Ah, that plain office again... the blonde woman examines the room in a quick and gestaltent look before preceding the Lord inside. As for seamonsters, "Ilicaeth's more a rock monster, but I take yer drift." "If your wife will let me." Riorde slants a look at the man she's accompanying, letting go of his arm to slip inside. She pulls off her leather helmet while she's at it, but her hair remains tightly bound in a bun at the nape of her neck -- no long hair tumbling free. "I remember," she says, voice quiet and low. The gloves are next to come off; Riorde dumps the lot on a free surface. "Sure, I could stay. Duty's done for the day. Thanks. Always nice to have the chance to catch up and all. How old are your kids now? Did I ever say congratulations?" Riorde knows perfectly well whether she did or not, of course; the question gets asked anyway. There's no sign of Kiatan, but signs of his being here: a steaming pot and mugs on the table nearer the hearth. Devaki steps over to shrug free of his coat and rest it over the back of one of the chairs, before he pours three mugs full, gesturing for the pair of riders to help themselves. The klah, as it turns out, is a spiced, heated cider, warm and heady of scent, and clearly alcoholic. The Lord picks his own up, and settles into one of the comfy chairs by the hearth, which seems to be indication to do the same; there's three others sitting in a loose spacing around the spot. There's a quick grin for Riorde's mention of his wife, but he's silent until she asks after the children. "Vinien's about to turn four, Sealene's two and Esiara's just on four months. And, of course, you'd know Dilan." Whether it's significant that he listed his oldest child last is anyone's guess. "I'm glad you're both willing to stay. Actually -- it was another matter I wanted your thoughts on. I've a decent fleet of ships now -- trading back and forth. Even with the Island." That's directed, significantly, at Riorde. It's also probably a surprise to both, given there's not even been a hint of a rumor. "I trust your opinions. What do you think it would take to get the Weyr to extend its coverage over the Island, if I were to declare it part of High Reaches Hold territory?" He's oh-so-casual about it, resting back in his chair, gaze flickering from one to the other, evaluating their expressions as much as any responses. She's not going to touch that 'wife' subject with a dragonlength pole, hell no, but Alida does join her fellow Wingrider in removing her basic outer garb, the doffing of her own helmet revealing a braided coronet of pale hair whose errant strands do manage to slip free, here and there. Unlike Riorde, the bluie has no reason to banter and chit-chat with Devaki, and so she remains quiet while plucking off her own handwear, the riding gloves then tucked into her riding belt, helmet slung by chinstrap over the crook of an arm. It's only after she's accepted that mug of 'not' klah and meandered over to her own seat at the hearth that 'lida shuck her scarf and jacket off, setting them and her other things to warm up and dry off nearer the fire before she settles down and sips her brew. "Mmm... good stuff..." is murmured in quiet pleasure at the taste and restorative heat of the drink before Devaki's words of his children are hitting her ears. A small nod - and nothing else - greets the mention of Dilan, the blonde happy to have her mug to lips when the Lord 'casually' mentions hoping to annex those exile islands to his territory. Helps to hide the little cough and almost-stare. Bluntly, as usual, is noted, "A different Weyrleader, fer starters." Snert. Once she's rid herself of her own thick, warm riding jacket, Riorde goes right ahead and helps herself before joining Devaki in one of those chairs without hesitation. "That many? I can't keep track." The brownrider's irreverent comments on the Lord Holder's children come to a halt with his turn towards business. Mention of the Island has her focus narrowing to something sharp and keen. "Sweeten the deal," she replies. "If you have this much trade under development, provide something that proves the Island necessary. What has the Island got that the Weyr might want? I assume it's not the same as it was when we grew up -- that it's more than just subsistence living. If you could help them establish some specific kind of artisan craft from local materials, that might be a start. Something more than copious amounts of fish and seaweed." "K'del can be worked around," is all Devaki says to Alida's comment, leaning forward. "What else?" Riorde's comments have him nodding, thoughtfully. "The fishing trade is -- much easier, with proper equipment, and boats. It'd be much easier if we could transport them by dragonback rather than by ship. They only keep so long." He smiles, abruptly, and snaps his fingers in delight at her mention of craft. "Ah, yes. Certainly, the weavercraft have been interested in some of the weavework we used to make our clothing. Someone suggested using the caves as a -- some sort of tourist destination, but the Elders agreed that was -- not allowed." Alida gives a slight shrug at Devaki's take eon the 'Reachian Weyrleader, the guard lapsing into quietude as she partakes of her draught, listens to and observes the other two. Slipped into the conversation at an appropriate time is her flat, "People power might be a positive point, as well. I dunno' as much as you two, uv course...but if the islands can produce tough 'n very capable folk, ya might have the beginnins' uv a new harbor 'r such there. Could get some adjunct uv the Seacraft started there... 'r WeaverHall. Shit; if the folk there've got somethin' new ta offer, they might even be able ta start up a new Craft." Another sip cue a quick wave of the bluerider's hand upon the air. "Uv course, I'm just scattershottin' thoughts around." Shrug. "Yeah, no." Riorde is quite emphatic on that one. The idea clearly appalls her. "How fucking inappropriate. Let's let voyeurs come see how we lived as fucking exiles when the world abandoned us. Great." Even with the suggestion having been shot down, it makes her moody, simmering with aggravation. "Adjunct of the Seacraft," Devaki echoes Alida. That does seem to interest him, perhaps as much because of rumors of a Master Seacrafter forming part of his advisory council as anything. "That might work. I'd like our people to become comfortable on the Sea as much as the Islands." There's no emphasis, and yet the way he says our people sounds quite a bit different than when he refers to the Hold's denizens. "No, it's good," he's quick to smile at Alida, though his flickered glance towards Riorde takes in her mood enough that he sets aside his mug and stands. The way he moves to Riorde's chair and touches her shoulder lightly is casual enough to be attributed to the actions of a concerned friend. "I won't let them... I'll control this, Ri. That's why I want to get out ahead of everyone. The Harpers, the Weyr. Everyone. To protect what is ours by the sweat and blood of our ancestors and the sea." Even Alida, who has no background with the exiles, finds the thought of letting others in to gawp at the unpleasant reminders of their past unappealing, and she too joins Riorde in naysaying the idea of such with a small shake of her head, a tight little expression. Pride; it does a mind good. With Devaki's words echoing some of her own comes a low, "Weyrs protect Crafts, Holds...as long as they're not logistically too far away." It's happened before: too far outlying populaces having to disband because of difficulty in being protected during a Pass. The bluie's simple words seek to remind Devaki of this hard reality, even after she offered a smidge of hope. Realism. The man's nuances of speech are taken in by keen ears even as Alida stares into the fire for some long seconds, something stirring inside of her. In the end, if forces her to comment in quiet tones, "As long as we 'cn all work t'gether, in the end...make it mutually beneficial..." Riorde, glancing up at the touch, manages a faint smile through her irritation. "Yeah. I know," she replies after a couple seconds. "I do. It's just-- the idea of it." She draws in a deep breath, consciously relaxing her shoulders. "I'll be right back," the former exile says, getting to her feet. "In any case, you know I'm for it. I still have family out there. Logistically, we have between. It's workable so long as it's worth the Weyr's while." "But dragons can go wherever they want in the blink of an eye. Why does the distance of a place factor in?" Devaki asks, genuinely curious about this concept. He nods to Riorde, his hand slipping away from her shoulder, gaze tracking her departure before he settles into take her chair. "So, making it worth the Weyr's time. Additional tithes would be welcome, I would guess?" he smiles, a tad ruefully, to himself. To both Riorde and Devaki is clipped out, "It's more...psychological...in the human mind. Ya get a holding 'r craft far out, people start gettin' wary... Like, 'How're we gonna protect that place not only from Thread, but potential incursions, natural disasters...' Stuff like that." She's trying to explain a guard's mindset, and not succeeding much. Alida's no spokeswoman or diplomat...nor a teacher. "Yeah...make it worth *everybody's* time..." the blonde mumbles out, chewing a little at her upper lip. "Got any kind uv edible sea life there that's scarcer at other places? Maybe rarer herbs 'r whatever that c'n directly benefit dragons..?" "You riders are a strange lot at times. Unlimited in so many ways and limited by your minds in so many other ones." It seems more observation on Devaki's part than criticism; he's looking thoughtful. The grimace that follows Alida's mention of helping out the dragons is probably inadvertent. "Are you willing to allow your blue to be the test subject?" Clearly he thinks he knows the answer to that already, since he's pushing to his feet. The near inaudible sound of Kiatan's shoes scuffing probably alerted the former guard to his presence in the doorway: "My Lord, it's time to get you ready." Devaki nods, then gestures towards Alida. "Would you see Alida to the Hall? And Riorde, of course, when she returns." Then, to Alida, "Duty calls. But I'll catch you at the feast afterward. I'm very interested in discussing this further." "It ain't only riders..." Alida notes fatalistically, though she can't gainsay Devaki further. There's an instant and solid answer for his next inquiry: "Only if he was dyin' 'r worse, and those herbs might give 'im even a slim chance at gettin' better." Lip twist. Thoughts of life without Ilicaeth can barely even be touched on, much less deeply pondered...and so the woman's relieved when someone's soft scrape of footwear garners Alida's instant focus. As she ascends from the chair - quaffs the rest of her drink quickly - the bluie inquires of her host, "Mind if we leave our gear in here? We'll collect it later." It's easier than toting it all around the Hold. A quick nod to the Lord is followed by her laconic, "I figured ya would." Smirk. "Catch ya later." Cue a very half-hearted, sloppy bit of a salute with two fingers, and the rider's following Kiatan. Devaki spreads his hands to say 'there's your answer'. With an easy smile, "Of course you may. Kiatan will make sure you find your way back." Not that he didn't notice Alida paying attention, judging by the twitch of lips. Her salute earns a nod in turn, the Lord heading in the opposite direction down the corridor. |
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