====November 17, 2013
====N'cal, Trek
====N'cal fills in Trek on the dirt on W'rin, and the two blueriders plot how to use it.

Who N'cal, Trek
What N'cal fills in Trek on the dirt on W'rin, and the two blueriders plot how to use it.
When Spring, 8 months and 12 days until the 12th Pass
Where N'cal's Weyr, Igen Weyr

trek02.jpg Ncal8.jpg

N'cal's Weyr

Simple and practical, this weyr is nothing special to behold, though it does have a certain easy charm to it. There are three distinct areas in here, giving the small cave almost a clover shape. Upon walking in, the first area to be seen contains a simple hearth with a built facing of sandstone blocks, as well as a table with a couple of chairs pulled up to it (both a dining area and a workspace) and a rack holding a few bottles of wine and other alcohol. The next place contains a couch and a few of deep, comfortable chairs, interspersed with a few shelves holding books and glowbaskets - a place to relax alone or with company. Finally, the largest branch off the main midst of this cave is blocked off with a dark blue hanging, beyond which lies a queen-sized bed, a couple of clothing chests, and a side table. A grand total of three large, woven hangings bearing bold, black geometric designs on deep jewel tones adorn the walls, but other than the requisite glow baskets, there is no further decoration.

Late afternoon above the Bazaar finds the very distant rumble of thunder carrying along atop the muted din of the bustle below - quite appropriately, perhaps. The hanging across the entrance to N'cal's weyr is pushed open once again, though the bluerider himself is not sitting in quiet reading, this time. A stack of letters still sits on his table, along with a bottle of wine and an empty glass. He carries a mostly-filled one, absently sipping at it as he leans against the threshold, awaiting a visitor.

It has been a busy few days for Trek and Kanyith. Even without the details, the symptoms are there to see. Kanyith doesn't have quite the bounce in his step, and his grey muzzle is just a little greyer than usual. Trek, as she makes her way into the weyr, has that haggard look of exhaustion, plus some tell-tale signs that she's been awake too long. They do finally come to call, however, both smelling faintly of redwort. "I swear, every time that green of G'than's rises, we end up with ground weyrs full of injuries," she announces, slowly easing out of her riding jacket. Only then does she manage to take in the scene, eyes going first to the stacks of letters, then the wine, then N'cal. "Why do I get the feeling I missed something?" It's amusement that colors her tone, though it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Because of the green, or the chasers fighting over the green?" N'cal questions with some amusement, ushering her the rest of the way in. "Perhaps Iolarth didn't chase for good reason." He fills the other glass, offering it to her with a rather inscrutible look. "You may need it. You haven't missed anything, I assure you. But there is something rather…weighted I thought I'd bring to your attention, as I've every confidence that you'll at least hear me out." He gestures to one of his two empty chairs at the table, silently offering a seat. "Do you recall me mentioning Arroyo's need for an…opportunity to arise, in order for certain ideas to take hold? I believe one may have surfaced."

"She's a dirty flier, for one. Likes to use her claws. One of those damned if they win, damned if they lose situations," Trek shares as she takes the glass with much thanks in her expression. She slowly eases into the offered chair and stares at the wine in her glass for a long moment before bringing it to her lips. Finally, the rest of N'cal's words soak in, and she looks up at him with a light frown. "I do remember, certainly," she replies, setting the glass down and leaning back in her chair. "So, a weighty opportunity that requires a quiet meeting and wine," she sums up, smiling slightly as she waits for the rest.

N'cal sits as well, eyes on the stack of letters, which he slowly unbinds. "Indeed. Somewhere with no other ears risked, hence," and he gestures expansively to the rest of his weyr beyond them, "here." He takes up one of the letters, unfolding it and examining its contents as he speaks. "No amount of simply asking for a chance will get the Weyrleader to allow Arroyo to become chromatic-led; I think we both know that. Even if it makes the most sense for the wing's current makeup. As innovative as W'rin is with his Whirlwind, such a thing seems too innovative for him to allow another wing to try. So…" Blue-green gaze comes to rest on her again, intense with the coming idea. "We'll have to take a more…underhanded approach, if we're to be heard. But I must ask - would being involved in something such as blackmail trouble you?" His expression is very serious, though somehow cautiously hopeful all at once. "This is something I am willing to do and - if necesary, take the fall for - on my own, I assure you, but I would like to give you the chance to act as well."

Trek's gaze falls to that open letter, though she doesn't try to read it. Eventually, the various elements of the fellow bluerider's thoughts begin to ring the bells in her head, because quite quickly, those hazel eyes of hers grow wide. She looks intently across N'cal, weighing, judging… then she smiles. "I don't want to alarm you too much, but it wouldn't be my first, ah… transgression, when it comes to the current Weyr leadership." She reaches for the wine glass again, then stops, looking up at him again. "Not… I mean. Not Corelle. Not that. Just… some white knots for some very not-male candidates." Her smile this time is weaker and a little crooked before she goes ahead and takes another much-needed drink of wine. "Anyway. I think in this case, blackmail might be the only viable approach. Unless we want to wait Turns for results, that is."

N'cal blinks at the other bluerider, regarding her steadily as he absorbs what she's saying. At her revelation of her role in the recent Candidate scandal, the tall, lean bluerider laughs richly. "You and Kanyith Searched the girls. Brilliant!" He visibly relaxes, sighing and taking another drink of wine as he regards Trek with sheer admiration for her actions. "Well then. I am certainly glad to be in your company over this, my fellow blue. Quite glad indeed." With that, he passes her two letters - one from Lady Setelle to W'rin the wingleader of roughly a decade prior, alluding to a rather private encounter from the evening before the letter was penned, and another - this one a brief response from the bronzerider a sevenday later, promising to see her the next time his duties took him to the hold. "I came into possession of these yesterday. I think you'll see the implications there fairly quickly."

"Well, not all of them," Trek admits as she glances toward the ledge where Kanyith has just about melted down to snooze. She smiles her thanks for the compliment, then takes the offered letters as she sets down her wine again. "Came into possession?" she asks, distracted now that she's quickly reading. "How?" Then she hits a rather surprising turn in the reading, making her brows shoot up… and just quickly fall to a frown. She mutters something dark under her breath as she compares the two letters, then looks up at N'cal. "Setelle. That's Keroon, right? And Tirvin." Look who's been learning her Who's Who!

"Exactly," N'cal affirms after another swallow of wine. "Nearly fifteen Turns they've held, and they'd not been married long before Tirvin showed he wasn't a one woman man. Naturally, she sought to get back at him…and it became a habit of her own." After a moment of quiet thought, he addresses her question. "I was a trader for a time before being Searched, with the Vandor caravan. I became good friends with Bendegan, the business head of the group, and he was a confidant of Lady Setelle. Tirvin caught wind of her infidelity after a recent fling with a Telgar rider and went searching through her things, apparently. She got the remainder of her letters to Bendegan with instructions to get them to Igen's Weyrleader, and he passed them to me. I think it's clear why." Resting a hand on the remainder of the stack, he goes on. "Apparently Tirvin will do something rather rash concerning the Weyr's tithes, should he catch wind of his wife having another affair with a rider - past or present. So these do not leave my possession. No harm comes to our Weyr. But nor do they get to W'rin. We threaten to leak them unless W'rin allows Arroyo to function under chromatic leadership, using modified tactics. He'll do it because he won't risk the Weyr." He gestures her way, indicating the end of his thought. "What do you think?"

When N'cal has finished his explanation, Trek sits there quietly for several seconds, hand on her wine glass though she leaves it on the table. "I think… Holders continue to make no sense to me," she drawls in a rather quiet voice before flashing N'cal a quick smile to show she's not… entirely serious. The smile fades, though, as her gaze falls to the letters again. "So many questions, but most of them end up irrelevant at this point in time. What is relevant is that we have these, and W'rin doesn't. And I'm assuming Tirvin doesn't know about them just yet. And that Setelle would like to keep it that way, to say nothing of W'rin. Assuming they're not forgeries, then I agree, W'rin will have to yield." She runs fingers through hair that has seen better days. "I would pick out the least incriminating one from each of them. Take them to W'rin as proof we hold something of value. Allude to what the other letters contain. Say we'd be perfectly happy to keep this to the three of us if he allows us to take Arroyo and see what we can do with it. He's giving up very little, but potentially gaining everything."

N'cal hums a little, shaking his head. "Tirvin doesn't know, and I'm certain they can't be forgeries. They're clearly older, and I doubt anyone would have known W'rin well enough to figure how he would answer Setelle." Picking up the stack, he shuffles through idly, though he knows it'll take a more serious perusual to find the least incriminating of the lot. "I agree," he says, a bit quietly. "However…all things considered, I do think we ought to be willing to make some sort of concession. Let it seem like his idea, as much as possible. But the last thing we want to do is make it seem as though we're out to undermine W'rin's authority entirely; things must be tenuous for him, especially after Corelle's death. We make it clear that we don't aim for outright rebellion; we aim to make Igen's Threadfighting force more formidable by what we do, after all, regardless of whether or not he sees it that way. Let W'rin appoint one of our wingseconds, say."

"An easy concession," Trek agrees as she swirls the wine in her glass. "If nothing else, anyone he names would then be a known entity. As long as they don't actually try to undermine what we're doing, though, it doesn't matter, as long as they can do the job, right?" She takes a sip and once again sets the glass on the table. "We'd need at least two, anyway. And shells, it's not like we want to get Threadscored. Not doing this for shits and giggles. Blackmail's a pretty serious thing. Should be for a serious reason. Igen's going to need something dynamic to help cover all that ground, and I think Arroyo can lead the way there."

"If nothing else, we can get on even ground with Whirlwind in effectiveness," N'cal amends, finishing and setting down his own glass. Another chuckle rises up, for no real reason other than to to give voice to the audacity of the whole plan. "One thing we haven't really touched on, though," he finally states. "Who will lead the wing, once all is said and done. I've really no desire to, in all honesty…though it would make sense for the ones setting this into motion to put their marks where their mouths are." His eyes glint curiously as he considers the other bluerider across from him. "It would be quite a doubled point…if a woman were leading the wing, don't you think? You'd be rather capable, if you ask me. You've shown yourself savvy enough. Young, but not naive…and not without support." An eyebrow raises, but he says nothing more as he waits to see how she'll react to that train of thought.

Trek stops in the act of reaching for her glass again, hazel eyes locked on N'cal's own. She lets her hand rest on the table for a moment as she mulls over the idea, then laughs softly. "Well, all right then. It would be quite something to put some of these ideas into practice, wouldn't it." She does pick up her glass, then, and holds it toward N'cal. "Only if you'll help as wingsecond. I would need someone I can trust at my back, after all. If you're willing, though," she lifts the glass just a little higher, "here's to new directions." Trek downs her wine and sets the glass aside, then motions toward the letters. "Let's start going through these and pick out the likely candidates…" Plotting continues as light fades from the bowl, going well into the night. It isn't until the wee hours of the next morning that Trek and Kanyith finally make their way over the bazaar toward their own ledge, best laid plans in hand.

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