====February 06, 2014
====Hannah, Mayte, Terrian
====Business in the Bazaar!

Who Hannah, Mayte, Terrian
What Business in the Bazaar!
When There are 0 turns, 0 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
Where Central Bazaar, Igen Weyr

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Central Bazaar
All roads in the weyr ultimately lead here, to this center of commerce. Canvas awnings jut out over time worn, sandy cobblestone, sheltering customers and wares alike from the majority of Igen's elements, and funnel scents both mouthwatering and vomit inducing through the thin streets. Almost all store fronts are open air, delineated by sandstone arches with intricately carved facades. The insides of these stone-shingled buildings act as an amplifier for the salesmens' bawled enticements, and are held up by the chipped swirls of marble pillars.
It is the twenty-first day of Winter and 50 degrees. Overnight, the temperatures plummet to a reasonable heat. Sand coats everything.
To the north, you see two people.
To the southwest, you see a blue dragon.
Perched atop a merchant's stall are Plot, Devant, and Luz.
Bronze Dhioth and gold Dhiammarath are here.
Mayte and Terrian are here.
Obvious exits:
Dustbowl Cantina Sidestreet Resident Terraces Public Baths Crafter Quarters Central Bowl Caravan Grounds Guardhouse


-- On Pern --
It is afternoon
It is 2:44 PM where you are.
There are 0 turns, 0 months and 9 days until the 12th pass.
It is the twenty-first day of Winter and 50 degrees. Overnight, the temperatures plummet to a reasonable heat. Sand coats everything.




Winter in the desert is a strange bird, and while Hannah's time in Igen was brief, the season of winter was not included. Luckily, the Southern interloper is wearing her flying leathers, in dark shades of obsidian and green; the supple leather clinging in a most scandelous fashion. The pale, pale hair is bound loosely in a braid that allows wisps of such to frame her face. The goldrider does have her knot on, but other than that mark of officiality, she looks no different than any of the other patrons of the bazaar: flitting from booth to booth as strikes her fancy. Finally, coming to pause next to a booth full of fanciful, colorful silks.

It's a late lunch for Mayte - she's emerging from the side-street, looking around suspiciously but whatever she's watching for doesn't seem to be there. Relief lets her shoulders fall to a more relaxed position, and she saunters to a sandwich shop to purchase something filled with meat (and a couple of veg). It's as she's moving away that she spots the unique leathers and a big knot, her teeth already halfway sunk into her lunch. Finishing her bite, Mayte chews and swallows before heading in Hannah's direction, the wrapping of said sandwich carefully folded over it, boots gliding through the sand underfoot. Being on a speaking basis with your own Weyrwomen doesn't really give you a framework for other WEyrs, but Mayte tries anyway: "Ahem. Um, Miss Goldrider?" The apprentice moves to stand by her shoulder, instead of behind - no good negotiations start from behind.

The newest Igen guard recruit is again out and about, hands folded neatly behind his back as he wanders from stall to stall. A few faces seem to recognize him as he walks and he pauses to share a word with one or another stall keeper as he strolls. His eyes, as opposed to other times, are not on the wares however, but upon the people themselves. The apprentice and the goldrider are noted and nodded to in a rather general way as Terrian continues his walk.

"I think this one, maybe or that one…" Hannah's husky voice is lowered, more from thought than from trying to keep quiet as she touches her fingertips to the silken bolts. Mayte's arrival and greeting pull her from her thoughts, turning to squint up at the senior apprentice. Green eyes dance from knot to Mayte's face, though the smile she gives is warm enough. "Hannah," one slender hand comes to rest at her brow, shading her eyes from Rukbat's noon-day rays. "My name is Hannah." Here, she spots Terrian and returns his nod, perhaps keeping note of just where the guard goes. It's good to know these things, here in Igen. But then her face is tilted back to Mayte is a sort of expected wait.

It's a rare day where Mayte has to look down at someone, and she's already interrupting the woman's perusal, so she's hasty about it: "Mi… Hannah. I'm Senior Apprentice Mayte, of Vintner." No need to sound like a blushing fool: "I had heard that your Weyr," a general wave to the knot across Hannah's shoulder, "had just had a queenflight, and, ah, I was wondering how the Vintner supplies were at Southern. I mean," Mayte doesn't quite stumble over her words, "If you would be needing some extra wine in time to celebrate the future Hatching?" It's all in the economics: "Perhaps there would be someone I-my Journeywoman could trade wine with, if you have a certain supply of sweet fruits?" The guard is noted, and Mayte blinks - new to the squad? But still, she's talking business, so she looks back to Hannah quickly. Nope, not distracted here!

Perhaps Terrian hasn't quite gotten the memo that Igen's guards are suppose to be inept. As his eyes wander past the goldrider, insert overheard name- Hannah, and the vinter apprentice, instert overheard name, Mayte, he paues next to the stallkeeper the two are at. His words are slow as he speaks just briefly, "Excuse me ma'am's," then turns his attention to the stallkeeper. "Got a report of some thefts?"

"Well met, Mayte," Hannah greets slowly, watching Terrian's progress idly while the bulk of her attention is on the vintner. "Usually, pretty good, I think, but with Thread coming," so brief is the frown that teases at the goldrider's features, for the looming threat of Thread, "I think we could use more — although less of the high-brow stuff and more of a general strongly alcoholic beverage that could be use, in a pinch, to clean wounds." Not that that is what Mayte probably intended, but this dire statement is softened with a smile and further words of, "We could also use some cases of Benden reds and some good Tillek whites, I think. We have vintner masters and journeymen that you could speak to… or your journeyman could come and speak with our headman." Terrian's words are overheard — how can they not be? — and get a brow quirk from the Southern goldrider. "Thefts?" Now who's curious…

Sheesh. Guards, getting in the way of business again! Mayte does let her eyes flicker briefly at Terrian again, though it's more cautious than dark; still, Hannah's answering: "We do have a large selection of, ahh, nearly medicinal whiskeys," the idea of which brings a mischievous little grin to Mayte's face, and she'll explain why: "It's cheap and not very delicious, but some around here like it for their glasses." She's too professional to shudder but the apprentice can't hide the little moue of distaste before it turns into a bigger smile, "And we have some very fine wine blends from right here at Igen that we would be honoured to have any guests at Southern taste." Superior Northern attitudes are well and fine (not really), but Mayte wants to sell wine. "I'll encourage my Journeyw-man to write to your Headman quickly. Thank you so kindly, Miss Hannah." Business introductions done, the apprentice starts to withdraw, nearly vibrating her excitement. SALE! And on the heels of that, theft?

Igen Guard- here to mess things up. It should be a logo. The stallkeeper isn't about to launch into his tale of woe with customers standing right there, so instead of answering Terrian's question he just glares at the guard. Reaching upwards Terrian briefly runs a hand through is his dark brown hair before turning with a smile to the two females who asked. "Aye, thefts. From what I've been readin'," and at this Terrian reaches into a pocket and pulls out a much folded hide and flips it open, "them what have been displaced've been makin' a right nuisance of themselves. Don't suppose you two ladies might know somethin'?" His smile is charming and it warms his whole face, as if he's inviting the two into his special confidence with his slow words.

"Perfect. Of course, we would love some Igen-originated wines as well," Hannah's slightly sly cast to her features might be for the haggling of such things as wine when she continues, "I'd like to see if they compare to such favorites as Benden reds. Hopefully, we can make an agreement for a good price." The junior is about to answer the apprentice further when the guard makes mention of 'displaced' which has the goldrider's expression going blank. "I… don't know." A quick glance between stallkeeper and guard has confusion writ all upon it. "You're welcome, I hope to see you," this to Mayte, "down in Southern. Your Journeywoman too." Oh yes, she's a sharp cookie and caught that slip. A little mischevious smile catches on her lips and puts a glitter in her eye.

There's a discontentedly obtuse expression on her features, but Mayte is polite enough: "No, I'm sorry, I haven't heard of any thefts at this stall." Questioning's over, right? There's a promising look at Hannah, and the dark-haired girl backs up one step: "If you'll excuse me, sir Guard," because flattery gets you everywhere, right, "Miss Hannah, I have to get back to my store." A look is flashed at the Guard, slightly pursed lips open to say, "Corks and Works if you have any further questions for me." With that, Mayte turns on her heel and marches back towards the sidestreet.

Though the goldrider hadn't given any details about what Terrian is really interested in the man smiles anyway with genuine polite writ all over it. "Thanks anyway ma'am, if you do be hearin' or, " and on this Terrian pauses to look upwards and around as those shuffling past the trio, "be lettin' us know." A raises eyebrow follows the apprentice's rapid retreat from the area, his eyes lingering long past when she disappears down the dysentery. With a small shake he brings his attention back to the goldrider. "Be havin' a nice day ma'am. Mayhap check out that cloth merchant down the way, have some ribbons what might catch your fancy."

"Thank you," Hannah says slowly, with a smile for the guard. "You have a good afternoon, sir," this is a way of good-bye, given with a brief nod before she extricates herself from the stallmerchant's wares, drifting off deeper into the bazaar. If she carries a slightly tense expression, she'll call that 'concern' for the mention of theft, keeping one small hand over whatever pouch may hold her marks. And thus, the goldrider's day of Igen shopping has started. Somewhere, someplace, she'll find something to buy! Frivolty before Thread!
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