Logs:Dual Dealings With The Smiths
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| RL Date: 24 June, 2013 |
| Who: D'kan, Kazavoth, Azaylia |
| Type: [[Concept:{{{type}}}|{{{type}}}]] |
| What: Azaylia has business with the smithcrafters, and as it turns out so does D'kan. Interesting. |
| Where: Craft Area, High Reaches Weyr |
| When: Day {{{day}}}, Month {{{month}}}, Turn {{{turn}}} ({{{IP}}} {{{IP2}}}) |
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| Craft Area, High Reaches Weyr The far southeast corner of the bowl is devoted to crafter use, with a couple of stone buildings built in the open, designed to make use of the fresh air. One is the tannery, always reeking of chemicals and with hides everywhere, stretched out on racks to prepare and dry. The other is the forge, which rings of metal-on-metal and leaks black smoke and heat -- suffocating in summer, but at least somewhat more bearable in the cold, cold winters. A number of windows with heavy wooden shutters line the wall behind these structures, aimed in such a way so as to avoid the worst of the noise and smells. In between them, a boulder-shaped entranceway leads within. To the west, roughly in the direction of the weyrling area, is a loading dock, while above it all, the glass-walled Greenhouse sits atop a low-positioned ledge. Slowly and carefully, a brown spot has been seen in the darkening sky above the Weyr, spiraling toward the central bowl. There is a large bundle that sways in the turbulent winds, held steady by four thick cables that extend from the dragon's riding straps. Kazavoth's presence was first announced to the watchrider on duty when he blinked in from Between, second to Hraedhyth. That brown form soon becomes distinct despite the growing dusk, and with powerful, drift-moving flaps of his wings, the bundle is set on the ground moments before the dragon lands a couple paces away, careful not to tangle in the heavy rope. D'kan is half unbuckled by the time Kaz makes his landing, and moments after, he's on the ground, gloved hands already fussing with the cables' hooks along the brown's straps. "No, of course I didn't forget. Things have just been busy. Especially now." Azaylia's whispery soprano follows the Journeyman smith just as she does, long legs keeping up with his purposeful stride. Their business continues even as the two near Kazavoth, talk of payments and final drafts falling away as the weyrwoman recognizes this brown. She takes in the dragon's cargo, what looks like crates of raw materials bundled together on a large pallet. The Journeyman certainly seems familiar with D'kan, approaching with a hearty greeting and a clap on the back. For once, the goldrider's arms aren't weighed down with paperwork, silently stepping after the smith in order to help unload. "D'kan." A warm, if curious greeting. "Ma'am," D'kan is quick to reply while shaking hands with the Smith. If he seems a bit rushed and overly businesslike, well, it's cold, and they just came in from Between on top of that. Between the three of them, the cables are soon unhooked from Kazavoth who moves a few strides away, so very careful not to dislodge the pallet, or step on anyone, or knock over children, or... any other of the many things that could go wrong, without care. Once he's sure to be free of the new hustle and bustle, the brown does his usual trick of ignoring all protocol and personal privacy by easing his mindvoice into Azaylia's headspace. He's polite about it, but still, the gentle, « Greetings, Azaylia, as lovely as ever I see. Even bundled against this infernal snow! It only makes you-- » abruptly ceases in time with a look from D'kan, followed by a muttered, "Sorry about that, Weyrwoman." Then to the journeyman, "You guys have it from here, right?" And sure enough, a few unwilling souls are venturing into the windy bowl with carts and much smaller ropes. Azaylia is indeed bundled, dress' shortcomings made up by the thick black leggings she wears, protection matched in the midnight cloak left to dance in the wind as she helps to unfasten those thick cables. Gloves forgotten, bare fingers flex against the cold as she steps back and allows the smith his business. In the meantime, the Acting Weyrwoman's face brightens with startled delight, gaze shifting to D'kan and back to Kazavoth. The weyrling's apology is almost missed entirely as a delicate floral perfume chases after that severed connection, « I... Thank you, Kazavoth. » A wordless return of his compliment, certainly felt: handsome brown. "Mm?" D'kan earns a distracted blink, instantly replaced by childlike guilt, "O-oh. No. It's fine. He has a lovely voice, D'kan." The journeyman may not know exactly what's going on, the furrows in his brow stacking with each passing moment. Then, gruffly, "Yeah. We got it." Proof is in those 'lucky' apprentices who're dragging their feet to help relieve the brown of his burden. D'kan's next order of business is to return his attention briefly to the Smith, again shaking hands with the journeyman. "Just let me know if you want our help with the next shipment," he says politely while handing over a sheet of hide, clearly a manifest by its gridlines. Then, business with the craft concluded, the last order of business is to hand over an identical hide to Azaylia. "That wind sure makes stuff interesting." Kazavoth, meanwhile, may as well be purring. Why yes, yes he is rather handsome, thank you for noticing. Large eyes spin in a whirlwind of color as the brown moves off to the side of the bowl. "And... I'm glad. It doesn't bug you, ma'am. He's been getting better about that, but still catches people off guard sometimes. I thought he was going to give my grandfather a heart attack a few sevens back." Then he indicates the caverns with a bundled hand, beckoning toward the warmth. "Going to grab a mug of something warm before heading back up to our weyr." There's curiosity for the senior weyrling's dealings with the smith, Azaylia's attention rather polite as she oversees the exchange. She accepts the hide, this time her surprise much more subtle as she inspects the manifest and gives a faint nod. Hmm. "Why would it bother me?" The whipping wind threatens to steal the quiet murmur, eyes still trailing down the hide in her hand. Once everything looks in order, there's a warm smile for D'kan, "Did he? You'll have to tell me over a cup of klah." If he didn't mean for that gesture to be an invitation, now's the time to speak up. With a turn back to the journeyman, "You're sure they'll be ready in time?" The curt nod is all the reassurance she needs, and with that the weyrwoman looks to join D'kan in that search for something warm. D'kan has a short laugh in reply, feet already moving toward the cavern entrance. "So much to explain, so little time. If we didn't have to be up at the crack of dawn... some stories take more time." He beats his gloves together a few times, fighting the freezing temperatures. "How about a cup of soup now, though, before we both catch our death of cold out here. I take it we're not the only ones dealing with the Smiths." And we'll just leave them here, to politely talk business dealings, ventures, adventures, and just what Smiths can do with all that ore.
CommentsAlida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 25 Jun 2013 06:29:16 GMT. < Hmmmm.... *peers down from her weyr* Hmmmm... ^^
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Comments
Alida (Alida (talk)) left a comment on Tue, 25 Jun 2013 06:29:16 GMT.
< Hmmmm.... *peers down from her weyr* Hmmmm... ^^
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