Difference between revisions of "Logs:Of Egos and Ideals"

You climb up some steps into the Lighthouse. Lighthouse Deck-HRH(#2520RJa) This is the beautiful LightHouse Deck. It is located on the westernmost point of the Hold. From here, the sea can be seen as far as the eye can see in every direction. Boats are milling around far below, working their way around the rocks and crags which litter the bay path. This seems like a very good place to sit and relax with your friends. The air here is calm and refreshing, and smells lightly of saltwater. You can feel cool drafts from the water below. The deep greeny-blue coloured water below you sparkles warmly under the sun's glare.

The only safe way off the deck is back down the stairs to the Cove.

Obvious exits: Cove

M'wen climbs up the steps to the Deck. M'wen has arrived.

It's late afternoon on a warm spring day, and the lighthouse deck is naturally fairly busy. R'hin, however, has secured a table furthest in the back, and looks like he's just settled down, a pitcher of ale on the table and a couple of glasses in place.

M'wen walks up onto the deck of the Lighthouse, looking around for someone. Pausing his stride briefly as he spots the bronzerider. Changing his course slightly, he unds up at the seat across from R'hin with a small grin and an ambiguous salute. Sitting down with no permission asked of the Weyrleader, he gives an effusive, "How are things?"

"I'm drinking ale," R'hin returns by way of response, lips curving as he spots M'wen, "Since you mentioned it, and our newest Weyrlingmaster mentioned, I figured I should give it a go." He pours out both glasses, pushing one across to the brownrider.

Taking the glass, M'wen gives it a slight swirl before downing a good portion of its contents. "It doesn't have quite the class of wine, but that is probably why I like it." Realizing what R'hin just said, he jerks his head up to gaze at the bronzerider, echoing only, "Our newest Weyrlingmaster?"

R'hin gives a low chuckle, swallowing a mouthful of the ale, but through rote habit than any true enjoyment. He looks pleased, lips curving wide. "I'daur, recently of Monaco, originally of High Reaches. He is a man who thinks like us, M'wen. You should meet him. He'll change things for us. Change our future." The Weyrleader's excited, pleased, eyes glittering as he leans back.

M'wen takes another drink of ale as R'hin explains the situation, raising both eyebrows in surprise considering a remark is impossible. Swallowing the drink, he returns the his previous effusive manner with a large grin, "So maybe our future isn't as bleak as we previously imagined? What did you tell him? Was he the rider you were talking to when Melata accosted me?" The questions seem endless by the way he spaces them out, but on finishing the last one, a tilted head and watchful eye is given to the bronzerider, awaiting a response.

"Yes, he was. I told him that good will and diplomacy will outweigh Threadfighting techniques in importance over the next two hundred Turns. He understood that." R'hin claps his hands together, rubbing them briefly. "He understood, M'wen! He fought thread, but he understood!" The bronzerider seems as pleased about that as anything else, his voice low, but weighed with intense delight. "We can convince people, even those that've fought Thread, that new ways don't mean the death of everything."

M'wen snorts derisively, "Do you think Melata would actually ever see that, whether or not a rider who flew thread can? It's great news that some of the older folk, especially those set to teach the ways of the dragonriders can see that the near future holds less in tradition and threadfighting, but that won't change the opinions of the ones already set in their ways, nothing will. As well, we still need to train them to fight thread." He drinks the rest of the ale, giving an apologetic glance at the Weyrleader for the harsh tone.

R'hin's enthusiasm is dimmed slightly by the picture M'wen paints, but not completely extinguished. "Forget Melata. Give me a few months to everything in place, and she won't be a problem anymore. I'daur's important. He'll train the new weyrlings - he'll teach them to fight thread, but he'll also teach them to -think- for themselves. They're our future." He doesn't seem bothered by the harsh tone, taking it in his stride, leaning over to refill the brownrider's glass.

"She won't be a problem anymore...?" M'wen asks, though quickly gives a nod of thanks for the ale and changes the subject. "Before you made it seem like we were going to forget all about thread, but now, this could change everything for the better for us, them and the uture of the weyr. Are you completely sure on I'daur's loyalties though? He has been gone for quite some time I've heard, though how long I can't say."

"We're not going to forget about it, but it can take a back seat for a while. We still need to make sure the techniques and knowledge gets passed down so it will survive to the next Pass." R'hin fills his own glass, fingers tapping against them. "His loyalties? I don't know yet. I'll trust your judgement on that, wise man, as always." He grins over at the brownrider, eyes glittering with amusement. "All I know is he's willing to consider more ideas, -new- ideas, which is more than could ever be said for S'din."

"That's not really saying much is it though? S'din fits neatly in the category of hide-bound traditionalist, along with a few of our ever persistant wingleaders. Though I'm sure a meeting with I'daur is in order, if nothing else to settle my queries into his motives." A faint grin is returned, though absentmindedly as the brownrider is deep in thought. "So what will he teach? 'Tradition is bad' can only last so long." M'wen breaths deep anddrinks a small sip from the newly filled glass.

A low chuckle bespeaks R'hin's agreement. "He's still working it out, from what he said. I'd like... I'm trying to step carefully, but I'd like some sort of discussion group on the purpose of riders in the interval as part of the weyrling classes. I think it would allow us to see which weyrlings have the potential to be something more." He, too, looks distant, staring past M'wen, eyes tracking the various comings and goings. "Josilina and I had a meeting with the Dijilia. I pushed too hard. I don't think it went well." He exhales shortly. "And somewhere in there, I seem to have gained the Weyrwoman's trust, though I can't imagine how." Lips twist, wry.

M'wen nods briefly, agreeing with the way things were handled. "If you trust him, so will I, but I'd still like to talk to this man, considering he -will- be the Weyrlingmaster." At the mention of the Dijilia, M'wen gives a low chuckle, "They probably deserved whatver you said. Oh, and isn't the trust of our weyrwoman important? And what -did- you say to the traders?" He looks intrigued, though the situation seems to have more of a humourous edge to him.

"You don't like them," R'hin says, not that this is a new thing, but there's an element of cheer to it. "I suggested that, in addition to the arrangement of marks for our rider's transportation, that we enjoy the good will of the Dijilia, and that they tell us of disputes or ill will towards the Weyr, so we can seek to diffuse it before it becomes something beyond our control." He pauses a bit, fingers tapping the glass. "They accused me," his voice takes on an edge of anger, "Of attempting to tarnish their families' reputations." He shrugs it off, dismissing it. "Josilina will get a deal, but I was hoping for something more." He nods, eyes on his glass a moment, "It's important. She thinks we should stand united, no matter what." There might be a hint of unease in there.

"Do you?" M'wen asks, evidentally in response to R'hin's first remark. "They seem to have the typical trader charm of flattering others into buying their stuff, but when no marks are involved, everyone is either against them, or below them. So far it seems to end up being quite an accurate assessment." he sighs at the anger and unease expressed by the bronzerider. "They know how to get under others skin, especially their wagonmaster, and this, is not a good thing. Even our local itinerant is unsettled by our trader guests." he pauses a beat, expecting a reaction, "And your worried about Josilina's ideals on this why?"

R'hin gives the question the serious consideration it deserves, using the moment to take a swallow of the ale, lips pursing in thought. "Vertai is too much like me for me to like him," he admits with a shrug. "Jendayi... I like her. She thinks as we do. I just don't know if I can trust either of them." He frowns a little at M'wen's assessment, but doesn't disagree, nodding slowly. His frown deepens at the mention of the itinerant's unease. "Truly? I'd thought he'd marked them as his own. Then again, Jendayi saw through him, and I suspect she has quite an influence on her partner." His voice lowers, whisper soft, "I'm worried about destroying Josilina's ideals. I never wanted that."

M'wen gives a wry grin, noding slightly, "Those like you, are few and far between, but they all seem to end up talking to me. But do not compare yourself to Vertai and the like, you are better then them. You may be arrogant, insulting and...well I won't continue, but you at least can understand the need to change, and -can- change and improve yourself. They are so stuck in their visions of self-importance and ego, nothing will change their ways, and this will be their downfall." He pauses, the vehemence fading out of his voice. "Have you destroyed mine?"

R'hin's gaze shifts back to M'wen, pale eyes guarded, though the brownrider knows him well enough by now to see the hint of pleasure in the bronzerider's eyes, the words taken as praise. "That's the nicest thing you've ever said about me, wise man. Thank you." The words are wholehearted, low, and no less vehement than his. A long beat, at M'wen's latter question. "I.. I don't know. I hope I haven't, but I when I see you like the other night, with Melata, I begin to wonder. It weighs on me, M'wen. But I need you."

M'wen nods, smiling at R'hin, "Well it's true, I don't spend my time making these things up." Giving a low laugh, "At first it was really just a show for that girl I was with, but Melata can't seem to take a joke so I told her what I thought. You know that's what I do, and her being my wingleader won't change that. She has no idea how to lead." He grows less jovial, "No idea at all."

R'hin's expression is troubled, though it grows less so at M'wen's explanation, finally mutating into a low laugh. "A girl? Tell me," that seems to interest the bronzerider more than anything else. "No, she doesn't," the Weyrleader agrees. "And when we change things even more, she'll be more at a loss. Her way - leading through pointless punishments - is a thing of the past. It does nothing but foster resentment." And R'hin, of all people, ought to know, after the thousands of laps he did during weyrlinghood.

"Just a friend of mine, Melata has caused her nothing but trouble and I decided to have a little fun, you know what I mean? But then she, Melata that is, started going on with empty threats and intimidations and I couldn't take it, so I got a bit carried away." M'wen pauses briefly with a laugh. "She doesn't seem to realize people will follow those they respect more then they will fearmongers who have nothing about that that people -would- respect."

A low, pleased chuckle suggests R'hin's not adverse to the actions. "It was rather entertaining to watch," he admits. "As for Melata, I think she doesn't know any other way to behave." For a moment it seems like he's forgotten the topic of M'wen's friend, but he comes back to it after a gulp of his ale. "I'd like to meet this friend of yours. Would you introduce us sometime?"

"I'm sure you find it funny I'm in here wing then, but I must say, this'll be a fun few turns." M'wen responds, more facetious then anything. "She isn't the only one like that you know, these are the people who disrespect you and won't change their ways for anything." Having emptied his ale, he places the glass off to the side, clearly having had his fill, "Hrm? I'm sure she'd be thrilled." Though the exact meaning of this can't be guessed from the tone.

"I knew you, of all people, would make the most of your time," R'hin says, cheered by the thought, propping one elbow onto the table. "I know. And it pains me that most of those people are in positions to effect change. Slowly, slowly we'll change it. And maybe it'll stick, even after Lhiannonth rises again. Though... Josilina said something last night, about it being an Interval... she said it could be some time before the senior queen rises again." He looks wary, uneasy for a moment. The latter comment, however, earns a flicker of a grin. "Come, now, I'm not that bad. I'll be charming," he waits a beat, "But not -too- charming, hm?"

"If nothing else, I'll make sure Melata won't forget me anytime soon. Maybe I'll be used in examples in her wing as 'how you -don't- want to act to your Wingleader." M'wen laughs, enjoying the thought. "What's wrong with Lhiannonth not rising for a long time...?" He trails off then lets out a small 'oh'. "You mean you'll have to stay Weyrleader for alot longer then you intended?" Lightening the conversation slightly, R'hin's last comment earns a wry grin, though humour is much in evidence in M'wen's eyes, "No, you aren't that bad, though it has taken much to long for me to say that with a straight face. Not too charming indeed."

"I thought maybe, a couple of Turns, but..." R'hin trails off, shaking his head, leaning back and exhaling. "But I suppose we will see what comes of it," he concludes. His head tilts, smile flickering again as glance shifts back to M'wen. "You like her," he says, bluntly, pleased. "What's her name?"

"Personally, I think your being too hard on yourself, and with logical restraint, more then a few turns could -help- the weyr immensely." M'wen responds, his tone genuine. "Like her? She's just a friend of mine..." He pauses, looking at R'hin with a smile, "Her name is Tavrie, though I must say it took alot of work to get it."

"Help or harm - it remains to be seen," R'hin amends, lips curving. He drains the last of the liquid from his glass, before pushing it aside, ceasing his drinking as M'wen does. The look he bestows on M'wen is knowing amusement. "Mmhm. Took a lot of work? She sounds oddly cagey."

"Well actually believing that you won't cause harm would be a good start, but having caution in your abilities is probably for the best, for now that is." M'wen decides, though he stresses on the beginning of the phrase. Seeing R'hin's look for him, he returns one of joking exasperation, "Yes, that seems to be a common trait of women I meet."

R'hin's brow furrows for a moment before he concedes M'wen's words with a tip of head. It's the latter that gets his attention with a low laugh. "Maybe you have that effect on women, wise man. Perhaps they sense your ability to see to the heart of things?"

M'wen can't help but laugh at R'hin's assessment. "You know, I really wouldn't be surprised. 'let's hide the truth and make things harder to find out to that guy because he can actually eventually figure it out for himself.' seems like it would be plausible." His assessment, though facetious of course, of the woman he meets, makes him let out a laugh, looking at R'hin with humour in his eyes.

R'hin, cheered, gives a deep-throated chuckle. "You know, for all that we have a difficult path ahead of us, for all the obstacles that lie in our way, for all the resistance that we'll face... it's nothing compared to a woman at her finest, eh?" There's sympathy, amusement, and resignation all rolled into one, lips curved upwards. He reaches over to clap his friend on the shoulder, as he rises. "I'm needed back at the Weyr. You want to stay and finish the pitcher?"

M'wen regards the bronzerider as he stands, amusmant dancing in his eyes mixed with...respect? Rising as well, the brownrider returns the chuckle with a nod. "The best laid plans of man may go astray. I'll be sure to ask her if your presence would cause unneeded consternation. I'd rather not be dragged out of here, so i'll pass, I'm sure you can think of something to do with it." He stands giving a crisp salute to the bronzerider, a relaxed smile on his face. "Keep well Weyrleader!"

"I'd do that. Better to be safe than sorry," R'hin agrees, laughingly. He returns the salute, just as sharp, just as respectful. "And you, wise man," he responds, reaching for the pitcher. He turns for the exit, pausing near one of the tables to deposit it with a group of rowdy locals. "Enjoy, courtesy of the Weyr," he says cheerfully, before striding out.

You climb down the stairs leaving the Lighthouse.