Logs:Spymaster R'hin
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| RL Date: 28 July, 2014 |
| Who: R'hin, Edyis |
| Involves: High Reaches Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| What: Edyis pays R'hin and the two discuss the work at hand. Wine may have been involved. |
| Where: Homestead Built For Two Weyr, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day 17, Month 5, Turn 35 (Interval 10) |
| Mentions: A'rist/Mentions, K'del/Mentions, Edeline/Mentions, Aughan/Mentions, Jeroman/Mentions, Alida/Mentions, Bristia/Mentions |
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| The twin weyr has been empty a lot recently, and though Saindyth has been sighted a lot more than Leiventh, she's absent tonight. While the weather is turning slightly warmer there's still a chill in the air by evening, enough for the hearthside in one of the weyrs to be burning. R'hin has apparently recently been at the baths; there's a pile of dirty clothes on the floor along with a wet towel; he's managed to find clean pants and a fresh shirt, half buttoned, and is seated at the table carefully penning some report or other, several other papers set to one side. It isn't all that uncommon for Edyis to get a lift to the Weyrs these days, as she waves off the blue with a charming smile, and certainly bold enough to enter without knocking, though she does at least announce her presence with a clink of glass in her satchel, though the blue probably gave plenty of warning. "Nice to see you look like someone who's seen a bag of soapsand." The words tinted with warm humor. "I didn't know if your stash was low, so I brought two bottles this time." Bribery is certainly not beneath the scribe. Leiventh does, indeed, crack an eye at the arrival of the blue; if there's a greeting it's inaudible to human eyes, and those gleaming eyes follow the scribe's path inside. R'hin doesn't even look up, initially, posture casually relaxed as he finishes writing his sentence before setting the writing implements aside. "For a short time, anyway. Bristia said I smelt like--" he breaks off, but he's chuckling at the memory all the same. Pale eyes very quickly note what the scribe's carrying, and it's clear the bronzerider isn't above being bribed, judging by the pleased gleam of his eyes as he rises and gestures towards the cabinet in welcome to the glasses. Tugging a hand through only slightly damp hair, he says, "Why do I get the feeling this is not a free giveaway. Pour two glasses, would you?" He starts stacking the reports together, coincidentally -- or likely not so -- concealing their contents as he does so. Dark eyes don't miss the coincidence, though she obeys easily enough fetching two glasses from the usual place. "Does an apprentice need an excuse to dote on the master? It's not a purely social visit I admit but I'm not of a mind to interrogate you or anything of that nature." Pouring the glasses before tucking both bottles into the cabinet. "You know If I really wanted to know what those contained or who they were going to I would find a way eventually." She points out diplomatically, passing his glass over. It's a lighter wine, and sweet. "I actually came to ask what I'm supposed to be doing here at Reaches. Or rather, why here is important when you've Bristia and an entire wing here, well save for those bedded down in Tillek still." "Dote isn't a term I'd use, nor expect," he says, voice settling somewhere between stern and bemused. R'hin's fingers tap at the pile of reports, and Edyis' response earns a low-throated chuckle. "Of course you could. But where's the fun if I simply let you have them?" He accepts the offered glass with a nod of thanks, immediately lifting it to his nose to scent the liquid, holding it briefly up to the light before taking a sip. The approving smile seems to say it all, and he gestures towards the couch nearer the hearthside, walking in that direction too, though he stays standing, bare feet carrying him silently across. "Because we're not here. I'm no longer getting the day-to-day information -- I'd like to know when news of Tillek spreads further afield. I'm surprised it hasn't already -- it's actually a boon that Edeline chose to snub the hatching--" he stops abruptly, then shakes his head, before focusing back on Edyis. "Would you rather be at Tillek?" he asks, interested. "Where I'd like to be isn't quite the point, though here is more convenient than anyplace else. It's easier to move around when there's Dragonfolk about." There's a sigh, "I think most folks here forget the holds unless there's trouble. K'del seemed worried but rather tight lipped on the whole subject." She draws a sip from her own glass. "Still there's only so much rumor alone can do, any luck figuring out how the pirates are moving the cargo?" "The pirates are less our problem and more K'del's; we need to fix the rumor mill." R'hin leans against the mantel of the hearth, sipping at the wine, gaze distant. "I'd rather suspect the Weyrleader might've re-routed some sweeps on that score, but I can't prove it, and it's less of a worry for me. What I worry about is that if things keep going the way they are, Tillek might not tithe come end of the Turn." Abruptly, he pushes away from the hearth and moves to the couch, settling down in one smooth motion. "It's good to have you back," he says, abruptly, grinning. "All grown up. Actually," he snaps his fingers. "While you're here anyway -- you should reconnect with A'rist. You were friends with him, right?" "Weyr's seen shortages before, and lived through -- What can Tillek expect though?" At mention of A'rist her tone becomes somewhat shaky and more confessional. "Not friends per se, I used to sketch Lythronath to -- overcome my discomfort around dragons. Though he does owe me an answer to a question, and I him a proper bribe. I can work toward being friends. But that's only really if he lets me, and I don't get squished for the fun of it by his beast." "If it was just Tillek--" R'hin exhales a breath. "Nabol's barely got enough to sustain itself, and they got a lot of help from the Weyr on that score last Turn. Tillek's shunning the Weyr. High Reaches is reestablishing itself on their dead rock of an island -- out of some insanity I can only assume. And Crom is... Aughan," as if that's enough. "Just one by itself wouldn't be an issue. If the rumors from Tillek spread to the other Holds, well... the Pass is a long time away, far too long to remind Holders why they should stay a belligerent hand." Draining his glass, he throws in casually, on the topic of A'rist: "The boy knows more than he's letting on." "Wait, you mean the Island the Exiles were rescued from?" Clearly she hadn't heard that properly. "There are no resources, no" She stops, and lets the breath go. "Aughan is opportunistic, if it's in his interests he'll be happy to help or hinder, it's just difficult to figure out what he actually wants." She frowns at the last, "He well may, but he's about as hard to get close to as a firelizard nest, and it's Lythronath we are talking about -- He is pure primal instinct, and A'rist has become more so as a result. I am not really sure where to begin." "That's," R'hin's lips twitch, "Between us. But yes. They look to be living there again -- a small population, anyway. It's hard to fathom, but then... sentimentality and... tradition," there's a faint note of derision there, "Make for the strangest bedfellows." The bronzerider nods, for her assessment of A'rist. "I have faith in you, little harper," he says, with an absent fondness, setting empty glass on the couch's arm. "I'm glad one of us does." She says of faith pinching the bridge of her nose. "Too bad I don't have an old barn that needs torn down or something huge that can be smashed to bits without causing too much damage." As for the exiles she shivers and nods. "I will see what I can do about getting close to A'rist. I can't promise anything." "Mm. We could probably find something." It's hard to tell whether R'hin's joking or not; his tone is too light to be able to tell, touched with familiar, low laugh. He pushes to his feet, collecting his glass and moving across to the opened bottle to refill his glass. He tilts the bottle, briefly, in her direction in offer, but even as he does he's asking, "Did you miss High Reaches?" "If you could, I've an idea that would work, just would need to be a little bit isolated." She notes moving her glass over as he tilts the bottle. "I did, until Master Jeroman had me pulling double shifts." her tone jovial. "I don't think I realized how much I'd come to think of this place as home." She adds more seriously. "I have a few places in mind that might suit. I'll send word, if I'm not able to show you in person," R'hin says, tilting the bottle to refill her glass, chuckling at her mention of the archivist. "She does... have a way of getting her claws in you," he says, as fondly as if he were speaking of an old friend, and not an entire Weyr. Taking a sip, he strolls back over to the couch. At mention of those places Edyis nods, her mind already at work on a scheme. For the rest she laughs, moving to the hearth, "She does at that, I'm glad now that I didn't test out to the hall. It would have been so boring there in comparison." "I'm glad you didn't, either," is all R'hin says, simply, looking and sounding pleased. Edyis grins, tipping her glass back and downing the contents. Yes yes, it's sacrilege but she did bring the wine so perhaps it makes up for the sin. "I'd love to stay and continue our chat, but I have a prior engagement with a bluerider that simply must be kept. I hope you're not too put out." She states with a jovial chuckle. R'hin, dutifully, puts on an expressive pout, though she's left the bottle, so it doesn't linger overly long. "Go, have fun. Don't do anything... well, no," he chuckles as he deliberately cuts himself off, pushing to his feet. Not to escort her out, but to return to the table, as he throws out after her, "Leiventh will take you down -- if you ask nicely." And even if she doesn't, though he doesn't share that. Edyis grins, "I always ask nicely. Enjoy the wine." and with that she departs. |
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