Logfile from pernworld
This world is Pueblo 1.0 enhanced
-*- High Reaches Weyr - Living Cavern (#1337) -*-
This, the central living space of High Reaches Weyr, is a massive cavern lit from above by a pair of massive electric chandeliers. Sconces line the stone walls as a supplement, their bulbs burning brightly day and night, while the chandeliers are turned off after most of the Weyrfolk are snug in their beds. Tapestries hang between the sconces, some abstract works while others depict Threadfall or long-ago Hatchings. The cavern is filled with long rows of wooden tables, their knotted surfaces cut from whole skybroom trunks. The huge stone hearth is set into a corner of the cavern, the warmth it exudes keeping the cold outside at bay. Even in the depth of night, the cavern is never wholly empty, and a pot of klah is kept simmering for even those who keep the strangest hours.
To the south, the subdued lighting of the lower caverns can be seen, while westward is the kitchen.
Hitomi is about 5'4, with a fairly slim figure, the exception though is her hips and bottom which gives a slight curve variation to her mostly curve less figure. Her legs are lengthy, enableing her to make longer strides than some women her height, but her fingers are a bit stubby, her hands very small in comparison to other's. Her face takes on a rounded shape, high cheek bones drawing attention the her green eyes, which are obscured most of the time by her thin, unruly black hair that reaches to just under her shoulder blade tips.
Her body figure is fairly toned, her thin arms wrapped in slight muscle because of her craft. Her upper-body is femininely thin while her hips and thighs are curvaceous and also well toned, all her body fat seems to be hiding happily in her rear end as her calves are also well exercised it would seem. A fairly active sort to be sure.
Her clothing is fairly plain and worn and consists of mostly shades of brown. On her upper-half she dons a long sleeved, button up shirt that has several odd colored patches to cover up holes from wear and tare. On one shoulder is a leather pad for her Fire Lizard to perch himself on, on the other is her knots which consist of High Reaches Weyr resident, Apprentice Harper and her Weyrlinghood.. On her lower half is a pair of brown slacks, the knees heavily patched and the trim on the legs is frayed from wear against surfaces. On her feet are a pair of old, broken in boots that she adores most of all. She loves them so much they are the only type of foot wear she will wear.
Nalkor(#11985PXc)
With a prominent facial structure, it is easy to see the ruggedness this man conveys. For instance his cheek bones are strongly defined to the extent that his jawls seem to sink in. As well, his brow ridge is quite bold, extending far enough that it leaves his eyelids nearly hidden and causing his eyes to become sleek in his overall look. Of his eyes they are coloured a light blue with a ring of navy on the outter edges of the iris. They are also boardered by fairly thick lashes and rusty bushy brows. Eyes sit center with his wide nose and its straight bridge. A thinly stretched mouth of shallow pink has the tendancy to set in a sneer, whether by nature or of subconscious design. A square chin usually has scruffy copper whiskers covering it and the jaw line - from ear tip to ear tip. To top it off, the man usually keeps his straight reddish brown hair short and rarely well kept. In fact, more often than not, his hair goes in every direction upon growing to a long length.
Currently the man is dressed in common garb - the basic necessity to keep a body warm in the colder climates. He appears to be in his early twenties and stands approximately five feet eleven inches high.
The Weyr may see many faces in it's daily operations; some come to stay, some go until the morrow, others only for a short while - and some never leave. On this day, it would seem, that happenstance would have it to enable a young man the pleasure of an extended stay; as the heels up of the reclining man would suggest. The young scallywag is easily in his twenties, keeping a contemplative eye on the mix of brandy set between him and another man across from his casual seating. The two display no outward gestures of aggravation, yet the eye sight of each would claim different, for both are locked on one another like two beasts fighting over a remaining scrap of meat. It may go unnoticed in the fairly quite cavern, though not so much that it wouldn't cause a few of the workers to gossip about it behind upraised hands. Only an arched brow by the younger stranger signifies a change in their stances, until the elder breaks of - sliding something toward the vintner. The exchange is made in relative silence, the bottle disappearing with the elder gentleman. Nalkor's perched brow watches the elder fellow depart until his neck can no longer turn with the man's movements. Whatever was traded for the bottle has vanished with slight of hand…
Tomi is just entering the caverns, most likely looking for a good meal and warmth, judging by her current state of appearance. She's still in riding leathers, helmet tucked under arm, mud caked into her hair and clothing. Her boots are even making a mess as she heads toward warmer, dryer places. The annoying little quips she is given by the kitchen workers about her messy tracks is ignored until she drops her helmet on a table. "Oh shove off." She mutters darkly before going to grab a mug of warm cider and a warm plate of food. "I'll clean it up when I'm done." Tomi seems to be in a sour mood, unusual for her.
The absence of the man across from him in which he could scowl at leaves an empty opening for searching out another party in which to entertain himself with. It would seem that with an arm flung over his chair and the other catching to the stem of his goblet, it affords him a moments grace to skim over the remaining faces. Some simply bore the man, to the point that he expresses his disinterest with a roll of the eye, a pucker of the lips, a lazy shouldered shrug. Yet, his eyes are quick to follow behind the sour spouting female - the glimmer of amusement showing in the crows feet wrinkling at the corners of his eyes. Before he knows it, he must keep his goblet off the table he's at, for her helmet roughly clangs the surface of it, rumbling the entire length. Some while later, the man tips his head, "Isn't that their job?" a casual pointing toward the workers with the rim of his goblet.
Tomi by now has completed her food gathering and drink hoarding as she makes her way back to where she slammed her riding helmet down. "Yes it is." She snaps, but not at him, more at the glaring lady who has retrieved a mop. "But they and I don't seem to get along, or be on a same level." She huffs before looking at her helmet and her full hands. "Excuse me for that outburst; I'll get that muddy thing away from you as soon as I can get a free hand." She states after taking a breath to calm her self down.
Unphased by the woman's rampaging temper, the man fills in the moment by sipping on his drink after a certain amount of sloshing it around. "Unfortunate," he pauses, considering the woman who looks clearly disgruntled at her chore, before returning a look to Tomi, "that those who choose their status in life become dissatisfied with it." He flicks two fingers that are wrapped around the goblet to dismiss her apologetic reply, "I am curious-" he says after a brief instant, "how it has gotten so muddy? I would hate to assume your dragon-" this from her obvious attire "-took you for a mud bath."
Tomi takes the lack of shooing from the table to as an indication to set her stuff down, if just briefly. The woman who has finished cleaning up the current mess huff and twirls off, mop and bucket in hand. Tomi Watches her before sticking her tongue out after the woman's back is to her, childish, but sometimes one can't help them selves. She turns back to the man who had questioned her about her natural attire and she shakes her head. "No, Abejath behaves, well most of the time. No, the mud came from a routine 'dig traders cart out of mud' run. Just they had sunk in deep, these people, no, didn't go around the mud puddle. Went threw it!" She swings her arm in the air to emphasize the cart, and the drops it straight down, "And down they sunk." She shakes her head. "No to mention they were totally rude about the whole deal." She shakes her head. dissmisivly.
The childish retaliation is noted as is the cleaning woman's irritated huff. Take note as well that the man doesn't do anything about either reaction, merely returns to wetting his lips with his drink in the mean time. "A routine…" he inquires with a curiously raised brow which makes his natural sneer tighten on his facial features, "Traders are usually the better breed to traverse the roads around mud. Usually they're prepared for such things. It wouldn't have been the vintner cart-" he assures though with a wave of his hand, "-we arrived last night." Another pause before he adds, "Could be the miners. They usually rely on brute strength to manage the mountain passages." His chuckle is wiry, not at all smooth - instead on the higher pitch of a man's laugh. It only cuts off as he goes to take a drink. Finally, he lets the goblet back to the table, empty - eyes regarding the muddy woman once more.
Tomi says "It's bad when the snows thaw, many get stuck, but many can get out. Some just make it worse." She sighs before swinging a chair up and plopping down in it. "Like those fools. Arrogant jerks. " She mutters mostly to her self before taking a few large gulps of her cider, only to stare into the cup briefly before setting it back down. "And I am ranting and most likely disrupting," she pauses, "what ever you were doing before I came charging in." she eyes the cup briefly before looking at the man. "Vintner?" The word finally gets past her raging mind. "I hope you bring good spirits to the Weyr?" she grins."
"I make sure my crews," he adds in with a nonchalant tone, "fill in the ruts before we make a run for it… and after if we make a mess of it," he offers a half hearted shrug, "a general rule of thumb that those in a rush often don't follow. They are the ones that usually get stuck." His lips smack together as if he could use another drink but not wanting to stray away from his company just yet, less she think him abrupt. Whether kindly or not, he gains the attention of a cavern worker wiping down the opposite table by yanking on her skirts when she passes with a bucket. Pushing something into her palm he passes her his goblet, "The red, if you will." The woman doesn't have time to make a complaint because he ushers her away with a pat. "Nothing to disrupt, I assure you-" he remarks upon turning back to Tomi, nodding acknowledgement to the craft. An instant later he quips in, "Brandy, cider, and ale… too."
Tomi leans back in her chair, nodding. "Good, been looking for something with a bit of spice lately. Can't have to much of it though sadly, Abejath doesn't handle it well. Any suggestions? I'm no vintner and I couldn't tell you what the difference between Rum and Brady are, but I'm looking for something with a warm spice and low alcohol content." She folds her arms over each other in a relaxed state, seeming to calm now, but not to her usually bouncy self quiet yet as she speaks to the man. "Oh and my name is Tomi." She introduces her self finally, remembering herself somewhat and the actions she was responsible for.
"I know a little about mixing drinks-" he says with a sincere tone, adding shortly after, "we usually just provide the straight liquors. I haven't specialized in bartending, which is where you learn what goes with which. Though, there's a nice brown spiced rum - comes from Nabol. It's light on the throat, goes down easy, with just a hint of spice. We brought a few cases of it. It is limited though." He deliberates for a long while it seems, eyes trailing the girl he sent off to fetch him another drink. Finally he adds, "Get some of that rum, put enough ice in it, mix it with coconut cream… It'll tame the liquor content down." He looks mildly amused, "Or you could just drink Klah and add a shot or even a half shot of rum." A beat, "It's Nalkor," he nods as an after thought to their conversation.
Tomi listens to him carefully, nodding her head as he speaks, letting it be known that she is paying attention. "I'll have to look into some of that and hoard it away then. How much is the rum per bottle?" She references the Spiced rum he speaks of. A face is made though at the mention of Klah, nose wrinkling and brows knitting. "Blah, can't stand the stuff. Only when they are hoarding the cider for Gathers will I drink that stuff. Bleh." The last expression is emphasized with an upper body shudder. Then. "Well met, Nalkor."
"It's a couple marks a quart," he announces casually, eyes quickly sizing up the woman and her muddy gear. Mere moments later, the man finds a goblet being placed in front of him, which earns the young cavern worker a gracious smile. Not a word but plenty being said with body language, enough to send the girl blushing back to her duties - which ever that table happens to be at. An oblivious expression holds his features as he sniffs, swirls, and sips his wine. "It's not that bad," he adds, "when it's the only thing kept hot in one's belly on a winter's night." Another nod extended toward the rider, "And you, Tomi, rider of Abejath."
Tomi nods as the price is stated, neither flinching at it or being overly casual. "True, but still, I would prefer to stay away from it as much as possible. Warm mug of cider before I'm off to bed suits me fine." The interaction between the vintner and the waitress seems to be ignored, or just not caught by the rider as she takes another gulp of her cider and picks a few flecks of mud off her goggles. She watches the waitress leave though with an amused smirk. "Like to charm the ladies I take it?" She smirks, noticed she did, amused she is.
"Good choice," the man concurs, "it doesn't do well with all stomaches - whether flying or otherwise grounded." A bushy brow lifts up at something across the way, nothing too interesting - just a testy pair or riders squabbling over the choice of their weyr's couch, or something as material as that. Lips thin more than usual until they are hidden again behind his goblet, brows sinking back to normal status soon after. In reference to the waitress, the man lets his chin lower, the answer slow in coming but just as cunning when he replies, "To get service, it helps to charm the server. I don't know about ladies in general-" a pause as he playfully regards her, "You tell me, how am I doing in that respect?"
"Charm, something I haven't tried. No good at it either most likely. I just get what I want and go usually." Tomi pauses before perking a brown, a smirk playing across her face. "Oh, what are you trying to charm me or something? Didn't notice really." Its is said as a joke, but smoother as if she meant it, only the amused look in her eyes and facial expressions give the faade away. "She seemed pleased enough though." She tosses her head over her shoulder, indicating the waitress, barely surprising an amused chuckle. "So I guess that gives you an ok."
Slaking his thirst, the young man rests it on the arm of his chair, fingers brushing down the stem casually as he crosses his ankles underneath the table. "What is it that you want?" The question is so abrupt that the man doesn't really consider the other subject matters, leaning his weight into his last words by fetching a mischievous expression. Finally, he nods with a waved hand airing away the importance of the waitress, "A passing grade for the first night…"
Tomi stares at him for a moment, studying before giving a shrug. "Expect me to tell you things so easily? Where the fun in that now? No chase, no puzzles, just an ending? That would be a poor story." Tomi grins. "If you can get a passing grade the first night you should be able to get one again, shouldn't you?" She leans back in her chair now, staring at him from across the table smugly, arms crossed, amused by the conversation, bad mood completely forgotten.
The man's lips smooth out into a curved line, parting slightly to show his teeth and dimple his cheeks, the squinted lines at the outer corners of his eyes an indication of his good humour. "Stories don't end," he says mindful of the woman, "change and divert accordingly, surely yours wouldn't end." He doesn't mention the morbid side of that, saying well away from subject matter belonging to darker moods. He leans in slightly at her following comment of his grades, his chair giving a protesting creak as he sets an elbow on the edge of the table, "I always seek to improve. I'll do better than just a passing grade." The promise is held with the line of his lips, a crisp curve of a smile.
Tomi continues to lean back in her chair, a smug look on her face and still amused. "True, they just get continuations, improvements of the characters flaws until they are who they will be for the rest of their lives, but adventures don't stop." Tomi replies smoothly, head bobbing in agreement to his statement. "You'll have to study hard for something better than passing, or even acceptable. Takes a lot to figure out how a good wine." She grins slyly, foot bobbing in the air as she continues to watch him.
Zevida meanders into the Living Cavern, from the Southern Bowl.
Zevida has arrived.
A young man and a young woman sit in a relatively quiet cavern, mindless of a couple of squabbly weyrmates and kitchen help that grumble as they finish up the nightly chores. The young man is curiously propped forward, an elbow on the table, a promising crisp curve of lips on his expression, eyes full on Tomi as he speaks to her. "Cease the day," he quips in, "for in the next the path that once could be taken might be … muddy." He winks at the woman as he starts to settle back, a good scrubbing of his finger taken to his whiskers on his chin, eyes roving up and down what he can see of Tomi, "It does, indeed, take a lot to figure out all the proper components." Lips once again are drawn to his goblet, left to suck down his drink in small sips.
In wanders the dark woman, dawned in warmer clothes to fit High Reaches' climate rather than Igen's hot sands. Her cheeks are lightly flushed with the cold and her hair seems to frizz more wildly with the colder air, the normally tamed puff of hair has gone wild. Zevida lets out a breath of relief at the warm cavern as she begins to grumble. "I 'ate t'e c-cold.. I 'ate it. It is s-stupid. W'o wants cold?" Another grumble and she runs her gloved hands over her arms to better warm herself. "W'o made t'is coat? It's not warm enoug'." Another grumble, cursing the weaver her made her coat she moves to get herself a warm mug of klah, paying no mind to those settled comfortably in the cavern. "Kla' better be warm.. I'll lose it if it's not.. 'ate cold kla'…"
Zevida, the dark skinned woman whose tone is a deep brown that borders to the tone of black. She is dawned with long raven hair that puffs rather close to her skull when dried, formed by tight ringlets. When wet, the hair falls limply towards her shoulder blades in loose curls. Her hair is often worn puffed up or is wrapped by a decorated cloth that hides her black locks from view. The dark woman stands at 6' with a normal build, not too thin while not 'fat' either.
She wears loose fitting clothing for the heat of Igen's normal weather, loose dresses that drop down to her feet or down to her knees. She never wears anything that is a solid color, she only wears patterns that have pale pink, baby blue, or a light gold. Her right arm has a silver bracelet while both ears have piercings.
Tomi holds her leaned back position, legs and arms crossed, caked mud still clinging to her hair and clothing, most flaking off her skin though as she moves about. She holds a hand to her chin thoughtfully as she hold shim in her fixed gaze, a smirk or a smile hiding behind her hand as she thinks what she will. "You should have some idea then on how to go about things, seeing as you keep up a practice." She replies after pause in thought, eyes narrowing as she grins. "Care to guess, or do you need to study more?" she dose not break her gaze, but only smiles more as she hears the woman enter and complain.
The journeyman lets his chin fall further, his smile grow wider, and his eyes close. He ponders the woman's words, her behaviour, her attitude. When his eyes open again, he stares across the table at her, fingers tapping against the stem of his goblet. His answer: "I journey. It's what I do. I practiced when I was an apprentice." The complaints and cursing behind him haven't distracted his cause, "Though I never jump to a conclusion. So I'll get back to you on that." This is when he manages a look to the side.
Zevida peeks at the journeyman and the woman sitting with him, shrugging up slightly in an attempt to get warmth from her jacket. She finally fills a mug with Klah and sighs in relief, taking the first sip. "A', t'at is good. Nice and 'ot." A grin works onto her dark lips and she falls into silence to examine the cavern better. Her shoulders drop and she finds herself a place to sit. Dropping unelegantly into the chair, she crosses her legs and leans back as she takes another drink. "W'y people like t'e cold is far beyond me…"
Tomi smiles, seemingly please with this answer. "You will make and find out excellent things that way. I'll give you partial credit for now." She smiles before taking her mug of cider in hand and finishing it off, food forgotten and cold by now. Her arms uncross now, reaching up and over her head in a long stretch and a yawn before turning to look to the woman with a nod. "The same could be said about the heat here." She yawns out. "High Reaches warm Greetings, ma'am." She grins before settling back into her chair, picking over her food lightly, turning then to eye the cider pitcher in temptation.
The vintner continues to glance around him, his view taking in Zevida - yet the woman earning the same reaction from him as many of the other people in the caverns did - a mild roll of shoulder and a general passing over of interest. "Indeed. Research is the better part of what I do," he includes before she fills the silence between them by drinking and yawning over her still full food plate. The casual greeting is by right what the rider of the Reaches should do, provoking a half turn in his chair to follow up with her, less he be considered rude, "Evening."
Zevida stares at Tomi for a minute. "You can 'ate t'e 'eat?" She asks, her eyes widening slowly as she turns her gaze down towards the mug in her hands. She laughs softly, then offering. "No, t'at can't be true. Everyone likes a warm bed, yea'?" Chuckling to herself, she downs the mug rather quickly before shaking her head. Her gaze goes to the journeyman who seems less than interested and she narrows her eyes. "'ey…" Towards Tomi now, she smiles pleasantly. "My name is Zevida. Pleasure to meet you and… 'im over there."
Tomi glances towards the Vinter, eyebrows perking up with a brisk nod of her head."I want a full display and charts on your research then." She laughs briefly before stretching once more, relieving her sore muscles and addressing the Woman again, riders dutys call at the worst times sometimes. "To each their own." she rises now, falling for the appeal of more cider. She is quick to return to her spot though with her fresh mug to continue what she was saying. "I'm Tomi, Rider of Green Abejath, is there anything I can help you with here at 'Reaches, besides directing you to warmer spots?"
Nalkor throws an arm over his chair, his face placid and unexpressive as he turns to regard Zevida again, "It's Nalkor," he puts it out there, no matter if the woman cares or not to know it. Seeing as she's from a warmer climate, she might be one of those faces that goes instead of staying. Nalkor on the other hand, besides his player nearly sleeping on the keyboard, is very much wide awake. The man is constantly checking the crowd for his future amusement, seeings on how his conversation was railroaded by the interruption of the other woman.
Zevida smiles at Tomi, nodding her greeting. "'ello Tomi and to your Abejat'." She grins pleasantly, downing the rest of her Klah then shaking her head. "Na', I got w'at I came after. Don't really matter w'at it was anymore, now, anyw'o…" Shrugging, annoyance becomes visible as her lips press together into a tight line. Her eyes are on Nalkor for a long moment before she abrubtly rises, grumbling under her breath. "'augty men and t'eir 'aughtiness… S'ouldn't act so… So…" Her eyes roll and she storms from the cavern, grumbling about men and the cold once more.
Tomi waves after the woman before heaving a sigh, her own exhaustion coupled with her lifemate's own tiredness finally seems to be weighing on her. She rises from the table as the woman departs, seeing as she didn't need any help, addressing Nalkor before she would take her leave. "I enjoyed the company and I hope 'Reaches finds good hospitality for you, so if your not in need of anything, I do need some rest." She scoops up her helmet under her arm and looks to the man with a tired smile.
Nalkor immediately frowns upon Zevida getting so bent out of shape, his eyes rapidly spinning back toward Tomi; puzzlement plain on his face. A moment later he shakes it off, gathers up his goblet and rises, "Can't charm them all," he shrugs a little at Tomi, about to wave the woman off, but he quickly sticks up his index finger in thought, "I shall need a place to sleep for the night. Do you happen to know which way a spare bed can be found in?" Still standing, he pushes in his chair with a one over given to the exits available to him. "A finger point will do in the right direction-" he says in afterthought of her exhaustion, "I don't want to keep you from your pillow."
Tomi smiles and nods. "You get some weird ones here. Cold gets 'em all loony." She turns toward the bowl and nods her head, hand and finger directing him. "Guest Ground weyrs are threw there into the south bowl. Also" She turns to the Lower caverns now and points. Residence rooms and crafters are down that tunnel." She stifles a yawn before nodding. "Sorry to leave you so abruptly, I was rather enjoying our conversation but that is for another day, good evening Nalkor." Tomi gives a genuine smile before ducking out into the bowl, calling her lifemate for a lift.
