Difference between revisions of "Logs:Weyrlings and Wings"

Council Chambers, High Reaches Weyr

At the heart of this oblong cavern is its meeting table: a long hardwood oval with a mirror's dark shine, High Reaches' sigil picked out in lapis and onyx at its center. Twenty chairs surround it, each softened by an embroidered cushion that's just a little too stiff for complete comfort -- meetings need to be kept short, after all -- with the chair at the table's head, facing the ledge, being somewhat larger than the rest.

Interspersed between glowsconces upon the smooth walls, ancient tapestries depict the territories High Reaches protects in a particularly pastoral fashion, all fluffy clouds and fluffier llamas, or else fishing crafts sailing merrily out to sea. Among them is also a natural alcove, its several wooden shelves primarily stocking fine wines and liquors as well as the glasses to serve them, though the lower shelves also hold whatever hidework requires particularly frequent attention.

A narrow wooden door leads to the Records room, while the tunnel that extends to the weyrleaders' ledge is wide enough for three men to walk abreast, with just enough kink in it to block the wind.

With less than a sevenday left before the weyrlings are due to graduate, K'del seems to be leaving it a little late to start gathering information from wingleaders and/or their 'seconds, though other wings have been seen in the days prior to this; Alpine is one of the last. It's mid-morning, now, and Taiga has just finished their drills, leaving K'del to hastily towel down his hair and tidy himself before the appointed time. There's fresh klah, at least, and a plate of pastries set out upon the great round table.

Y'rel is a man of big plans and big responsibilities. He's also handed over the nitty-gritty of daily wing drills and staffing to his wingsecond, mostly, so really, it only makes sense that he should be having some sort of breakfast meeting with someone in Nabol while H'kon is left to meet with the (acting) weyrleader. The brownrider doesn't much seem to mind. He arrives freshly shaved, with all but the one cowlick smoothed down over his head (there's no helping that one), in leathers and a fresh shirt. He arrives prepared. He arrives, salutes, and goes right for the klah. Must've been one of those nights. Or mornings. Or both.

"H'kon," greets K'del, hastily setting down his towel over the back of one of the chairs; prepared and professional, that's him. "Wingsecond." It's a formal greeting rather than a personal one, though perhaps it gets softened by the fact that after that he's settling down in his seat, selecting a pastry from the plate to go with the klah he's already poured for himself. "Family life?" he wonders, a little less formal, and with a rueful expression of his own: all sympathy.

"Sir." You think H'kon would be used to everyone and their dragon knowing by now, and yet H'kon still manages to look uncomfortable, and take a moment to pick his words. "Of a sort." That klah, he drinks it even though it surely scalds his tongue a little. It's a short drink, and only then does he sit as well. "Y'rel sends his re..." -grets? "-gards. He was otherwise occupied, I'm sure he informed you."

No doubt Azaylia should know when there are going to be wing meetings, and usually she's quite good about keeping track. This morning, however, has the Weyrwoman cradling a stack of records and carrying a half-full mug of tea. "Oh." She's startled into a gentle greeting of, "K'del. H'kon. I..." There's time to consider her retreat, before her curiosity catches up with her, "What's on the agenda for today?" Their business is theirs, the sentiment carried in her polite question.

K'del tears a piece off of his pastry, holding it between thumb and forefinger for a few thoughtful seconds before he actually answers H'kon's words. At least he leaves behind the personal talk; let the meeting take precedence. "Of course," he confirms. "Trust you've-- Azaylia." The Weyrwoman's interruption has the Acting Weyrleader lifting his gaze to turn it towards her. "Weyrlings and wings," he clarifies. "H'kon's representing Alpine's interest for Y'rel. Was just about to find out if they had anyone in mind... or any definite negatives." The pastry in his hand gets eaten.

The acting weyrleader might acknowledge her with a look; H'kon, as soon as he hears her name, gets up to snap a smart salute. "Weyrwoman," goes to her too, and he hesitates to sit. "As he says," comes once K'del has spoken. "I've had better contact with the weyrlings than Y'rel, for the most," is said with a glance back to K'del. Even if he's still standing for the woman. "And we have discussed them, of course."

Far too bright and cheery, "Morning." Even if she's greeted them both already. Azaylia's brows rise with interest, particularly at the mention of weyrlings, "Mind if I just..? It's a big table. And I promise to leave it all up to you menfolk." Barely biting back a smile, the goldrider chooses to sit at the edge of their invisible territory. Once her chosen seat is pulled out, "H'kon. Sit down." Flat, trying not to be amused, "That's an order." K'del will get the brunt of that stifled grin in a glance.

"You're no interruption," K'del promises, answering Azaylia with this and with the twitch of a smile: Oh, H'kon. Your Weyrleaders are amused by you. To H'kon, the bronzerider turns back his attention, after that, fingers steepling around the remains of his pastry. "And?" he prompts. "You can speak freely, here. Interested in your thoughts, more than anything."

His weyrleaders only wish everyone was as dedicated as that brownrider, who sits even as Azaylia is making her 'order' jibe. They tease him 'cause they're jealous, too. H'kon presses his lips together, and looks from K'del's hands to one of the pastries on the table. Then down to Azaylia. His own hands find his klah. "It's a very young clutch, this time around," comes the first of those thoughts. "You'll know we've kept Rh'mis with us the past few days? A fair few others have come through as well..."

Oooh. Pastries? Azaylia gets settled, opening her first folder and setting down her mug, although her eyes stray toward fluffy baked goods. She'll lean to snag one by the corner, only to have it rip. More unladylike leaning until she's successful, "Rosvelth's. He's the one from Nabol?" Not really a question, so much as offered information-- as if the other two aren't already aware. Luckily the pastry will keep her quiet for... and it's gone.

"And how has that been going?" K'del wonders, inclining his head forward in response to this mention of Rh'mis and his brown; to H'kon, yes, but also to Azaylia. "Will he actually answer to 'Rh'mis', now? Remember Quinlys reporting that he wouldn't, and that he didn't call his dragon by name, either." Another piece of the pastry is torn away, and chewed.

H'kon answers with a verbal, "Yes," to go along with K'del's inclined head. More to the bronzerider: "He is not forthcoming, on the whole... Though he does answer when addressed, one way or another." He presses his lips again. "Mostly." His klah now cooled, this drink is a bit longer when he lifts it to his lips. "We've kept to the Weyr for these drills, I've no concept of how he'd do beyond the Rim. I'm not certain it would be best for him to be in a wing with Y'rel on a permanent basis, either."

The Weyrwoman picks up a stylus, although rather than write she's far more focused on listening to H'kon's assessment. "Rosvelth doesn't seem to be suffering during these... difficulties?" Optimistic, and a clear tell as to where her concern lies. Not so much a thief, Azaylia takes up the rest of her tea and leaves K'del something to pick at.

K'del eyes his pastry, then the klah he's yet to touch, and then H'kon again. Azaylia's question has him nodding by way of confirmation, as if he intends to echo that question. "Not sure I'd put him in Alpine, regardless," he confirms. "Though I'm not sure where I would want to put him. He's a difficult one."

H'kon looks over to Azaylia, his mouth twisting in crooked uncertainty. "Arekoth says Rosvelth was... many-faced, I suppose. I cannot imagine it's easy on his dragon." Turning again to K'del, and with the weight of the thought he's put into his current project: "A wing that would not allow his apathy to go unchallenged, but would offer some sense of belonging. Over time, earned." H'kon gives a firm nod to finish that up. "Not Glacier. I do not believe Boreal would be a choice either. Avalanche... has arguments to be made for it either way, but... at any rate. But no, he cannot be in Alpine. I wanted only to ensure he would not simply... slide under any experience. I would speak frankly to the wingleaders and their seconds in that decision, were I you."

H'kon's answer is troubling, the twist of his mouth carried in Azaylia's lightly furrowed brow. It leaves her pensive, the end of her stylus brought up for a nibble as the two discuss the troublesome weyrling. Glacier's mention has her gaze flicking back over, lips twitching around gnawing teeth. No, not Glacier. "It's too bad we don't have a wing where difficult riders could try to improve," Not quite a laugh, "Or that we didn't have a wing at Monaco." Whether full of troublemakers or not.

"Seems almost like we need one," agrees K'del, placidly, in the wake of Azaylia's remark. "For Rh'mis, and probably one or two of the others." Hi, Klohi. But he's more focused on H'kon, and on nodding, slowly, in answer to all the brownrider says. "That's a sensible approach, though. We'll give it some serious consideration, believe me. As to others, though... are there any weyrlings you're particularly inclined towards wanting?"

H'kon looks to K'del. He looks to Azaylia. And he, very, very lightly, shakes his head. "You'd need strong leadership, strong riders in it. Put the weaker riders in a stronger wing, to pull them up." And that... is all he'll say on that, it seems, leaving the matter with a little lift of his hand, palm outward. More klah, now, and time to consider. "M'yel and L'sen might find a place with us. M'yel especially could do well. He and his blue fit well. I know that Frostbite had shown a fairly keen interest in Hassell," the wingseconds, they talk sometimes, "but we'd not be averse to having her placed with us either."

"Well I didn't mean with a bad Wingleader," Azaylia agrees, despite her wording. "Then again, I have no idea who'd want to lead a pack like that." When H'kon brings up wing preference, the Weyrwoman falls silent. It's K'del's duty, and she has no inclination to step on any toes. Though, she does make some notes for later as they speak, between working on what she's supposed to.

K'del's pastry is finished, now, and so the bronzerider turns instead to his own mug of klah, sipping carefully at it once, and then a second time. "Mmm, exactly," he agrees, which... isn't immediately obviously in response to anything, actually. "Once Polaris comes back, of course, we'll be shifting things around again, evening out the wings. M'yel, L'sen, Hassell," he continues, without pausing. "Duly noted. Is there anyone, aside from Rh'mis, that you definitely do not want? Of course, there's no guarantee you'll get more than one, if even that, but it helps to know."

"It would need be more than just the ranking leadership. Several good riders, also. A strong base from which to build." It's all said almost deferently. It's the weyrwoman he's takling to. Something in the way the Rh'mis issue is brought up again makes H'kon dip into a deeper frown for a moment. But no correction is issued. Once he manages to make his face less furrowed: "We will work with whoever may be assigned. And if they do not fit, there are options, should it come to that. We have several bronzes already, but Alpine was in the upper flight... it matters little now, I suppose."

Azaylia points her nibbled stylus at H'kon, "Good point." And to K'del, "There's little chance of there being a new wing formed?" It's offered with all of the weight of an obvious hypothetical. So, not really serious. Rather than go back to her records, the Weyrwoman rests her jaw atop her fingers, elbows propped in curiosity. She's always had a healthy interst in the Acting Weyrleader's duties, but it's rare when she gets to actually watch.

"Little to none. Honestly, we're more likely to get rid of wings than create new ones. Numbers keep dropping, after all." K'del sets his mug back down, pressing both hands flat to the table, instead. "Mmm. So much matters less, now. But keeping balance in the wings is good, and we do care to keep you all happy. We'll see what we can do. Are there any other weyrlings you've opinions on, one way or another? While you're here."

H'kon's nod supports K'del's take on the matter. He even adds, "There is talk, now and again, of more specific duties for our... current circumstances," a wry look toward one of those pastoral tapestries, "and fewer wings, with more precise specialisation. But the problem then would come with Thread's return. There's much to be said for tradition, most of all in a period of waiting. And none would be parted with their own wings." Off topic, he gives his head the slightest shake, and tries to refocus. It manifests in the form of a hard look at his mug. "Nothing of particular note. There are, as any class, those who might excel, those who choose to do nothing, those whose dragons are a fit for one wing, while their riders seem a fit for others... Again, just so young in this clutch. It shows in many of them."

"Oh." Azaylia accepts K'del's answer with only a little twist of her lips, not for his decision but for the sense that it makes. H'kon has her obvious attention when he talks of fewer wings, intrigued by the idea of change and just who is voicing it. "All very young except for one." A gentle reminder, and if she has any opinion about the one exception, it isn't expressed. Lifting her mug, she smiles behind the rim, "I'm excited to see how they grow up."

"No, I recall hearing that there was major consternation when the last wing was closed, turns and turns ago. I want to say Leova was part of it, though... that's before my time." K'del answers H'kon's thoughts with another nod, admitting, "There are times when it makes sense, but - you're right. There's power in tradition, and in not making things too difficult for the leaders when it comes time for a Pass again." He takes up his klah again, considering it rather than either of the other riders. "Poor G'laer, so much older than the others. I was one of the young ones, of course, in my class, but... that was a long time ago. It will be interesting." Azaylia gets a smile. "It's probably good there's no class on their heels. This group of teenagers has been plenty."

"The closing of any wing would come as a slight," H'kon agrees. "And the Weyr is not in need of more division among its ranks. We need time to recover and grow stronger, a unity." A firm nod to follow that. To Azaylia, "Hassell, also, is older. One of the ones we'd have," he feels the need to reiterate, with a dip of his head toward the acting weyrleader with that last bit. An then, he's taking a break, lifting his klah to his lips.

With a flinch that falls short of a grimace, "Good point. There's a lot of loyaty between some wingriders." Azaylia will sigh, "Though I think Aurora is a little silly." What with it being made up of two riders. K'del's smile earns him a sly grin, "Good for the Weyrlingmasters, maybe, but I want more babies." Hraedhyth has no comment. Her brows lift when H'kon mentions Hassell, either unaware or just reminded of that fact. He doesn't get away without a gentle tease, "I see. Your wing just doesn't want to handle any of the troublemakers." She's fully committed to her part as the peanut gallery.

"I know I'd be bothered if Taiga closed. Or Avalanche," agrees K'del, neutrally. "And if I'm not willing to see my wing removed..." It's not an option, therefore. "Aurora's always difficult. And if you want more babies... all eyes to Hraedhyth, right? Her turn, next, and her second class is already well and truly graduated. Guess it's hard to know what her cycle will end up being like, though." The bronzerider nudges his mug away from him, and finally nods. "Well... good. We'll see what can be done."

H'kon has, perhaps unsurprisingly, nothing but his Face for the talk of dragon babies. Outside, Arekoth sets to stretching and preening. "None of the wings want the troublemakers," H'kon replies to his weyrwoman, deadpan. Probably even serious. "I would ask for Rh'mis, if not for the situation of my wingleader. And Alpine's involvement in Nabol," is a bit more self-righteous. "But practicality must be addressed. I am not certain that sort of a juxtaposition would be to anyone's benefit." He seems to take K'del's final words as dismissal, sliding his chair back, and turning just one quick look to Azaylia. To be sure.

"She's not interested in leaving the Weyr except to check up on Elaruth," Azaylia sounds disappointed by the lack of wonderlust, but there it is. "I have no idea when she'll go up." It's enough to get her mind off of baby dragons, even if Arekoth's preening will award him a plainly spoken compliment from Hraedhyth. H'kon has her giving a soft laugh, "I know. I don't blame them." Or his wing. Her dismissal is a lack of one, leaving control in the Acting Weyrleader's hands. H'kon is given a small, polite smile before her eyes turn back down to her paperwork, actually attempting to get some of it done.

"So no more clutches for now," concludes K'del, without giving any indication of what he really thinks about that, given its power to decide his future. "Thank you, H'kon. Your input was appreciated; it's all duly noted." If he has thoughts on Rh'mis, too, further to earlier ones, these also get kept to himself. He has other work to get on with, too.

Curt nods to each, a salute once standing, and then the wingsecond takes his leave. No more words. He's said plenty for one H'kon.