Terrian N'cal


Terrian reports his findings formally to N'cal.


It is midmorning of the fourth day of the second month of the second turn of the 12th pass.


Igen Guardhouse

OOC Date


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Ancient, half-crumbling, and more than a little pathetic: Igen Weyr's guardhouse is a weathered thing, one to which little enough love has been shown. Theoretically a two-story building, the staircase into the upper quarters has long since rotted away to collapse, and a creaky ladder leads up into what once were barracks, but now serve as storage for miscellaneous and half-forgotten equipment and assorted rubbish. The downstairs has faired little better: trestle tables serve as both crude desks and cruder staging areas, while the small administrative office reeks more of booze than paperwork. Only the brig is halfway well-maintained, though it's still a pathetic thing: cramped and unsanitary, with a single dingy cot and dusty latticed window.

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Belior: moon1.jpg

It's purposeful strides that carry N'cal at a reasonable clip through the Bazaar this afternoon, the half-cloak he wears against the cold billow somewhat behind him as he makes his way toward the guardhouse. Tiredness lingers at the edges of slightly angular features, frustration settled remotely in the thin press of his lips. At least he knows he isn't grasping at straws by coming here; he did ask Terrian to keep an ear open for anything that could offer clues about the attacks that are wearing on people at several levels now. He shoulders open the creaking door and raps the frame a few times with ungloved knuckles to catch attention as he glances around inside, looking for a familiar face.

The guard house… is still a mess. With the abrupt departure of the few SANE guards from these halls Terrian has been left to push against entropy that fell again once Corelle has died. So far, his luck has been very, very little, as a junior guard from outside the bazaar's close mouthed sect isn't listened to with much happiness. His corner however, is cleaned up, with hides of reports stacked and organized neatly. As the door opens the guard looks up from flipping through his latest stack of work, "Wingleader, be comin' in. I was wonderin when I'd be hearin' from you again." Standing Terrian grabs a chair with a foot to drag it closer.

N'cal slips the rest of the way in and pushes the door shut with a heel as he unwraps the cloak from about lean shoulders. He's rather taken aback by the almost apathetic atmosphere lingering in the guardhouse; not having ever actually stepped foot in here, it's something he finds heavy and a bit disconcerting. Happily, it doesn't seem to hang around Terrian. The bluerider drops into the chair that's pulled over with a smile of greeting. "Thank you, Terrian," he says, eyes falling on the stacks of reports. "Have you got anything interesting for me?" is asked hopefully, and elbow set on the edge of the table.

"Well. Depends on what you be thinkin' is interesting." Terrian doesn't sit down, but instead bends over his small corner of the guard house. After only a moment of flipping he's found the hide he wants and pulls it out to turn it towards Terrian. "I've managed to get most of the reports from them what have been targeted. No one killed, just roughed up a bit, with valubles stolen. A few cotholds set fire afterwards, though why ain't been established. I'm thinkin' mayhap there was somethin' personal goin' on. And always when you rider's have just been flyin' over."

"Yes, that's the most disconcerting part," N'cal says, scrubbing a hand over his face and leaning forward a bit to scan over the hide turned his way. After a long moment of silence in which he reads from top to bottom. "Some people simply find pleasure in ruining the lives of others," he notes as his gaze falls on one of the accounts of burning. "Perhaps that's all they mean to accomplish by the burnings. Though if it's personal…" He shakes his head a bit, doubtful. "And there aren't any clues as to where the bandits are coming from?"

Terrian hesitates when N'cal poses his last quest. He glances upwards and around the guard house. Abruptly he straightens up and nods towards the barracks. "I think I got somethin' you might be wantin' to see. If you'll be comin' along sir?" A slight raise of an eyebrow. Terrian would like to go some place where the other guards cannot overhear.

N'cal observes the next bit of Terrian's behavior curiously, his elbow sliding off the table as he sits up. He nods to the request posed with raised eyebrow and stands, draping his cloak over one arm as he shifts to follow wherever the guard may lead.

When the pair enter the barracks Terrian's eyes sweep across the area before he turns, shuts the door, and puts down the large wooden bar across it. Time for other people to Stay. Out. Then, mutely, the guard leads the way back to a closed and locked chest in the middle of the rows of beds. Kneeling he undoes the lock and pulls out a large map. "I'll be seekin' for the weyr to be payin' me back for this." The bed becomes an impromptu desk as Terrian spreads the map out. Dots of coloured wax sit upon the map. They cluster along the roads leading away from the bazaar, and spread out among the swamps. "Ain't none of the attacks been done more than a good hard day's ride from the Weyr."

Watching as Terrian produces and unfurls the map, N'cal kneels as well for a better view, his brow furrowing as the implications fall into place. "Someone in the Bazaar then…or the traders - which makes less sense, but it's still a possibility." With a quick huff of a sigh, he takes in those little colored points further, scratching his chin through the stubble idly as his mind works. "And if they're still managing to avoid our sweeps while being based from here, that would imply that there's at least one rider involved. They have to be getting hold of our schedules somehow. It's the only thing that makes sense. But…why?" What would that rider gain? The bluerider goes quiet again, then glances over at Terrian and claps him on the shoulder. "Good man. Don't you worry about payment. You'll have it, I swear." (re)

Terrian nods as N'cal comes to the exact same conclusion as him from that one view of the map. "Aye. The holders think the weyr has gotten greedy, and is lookin' for something more than tithes. Have the sweeps been changed yet?" An abrupt question, and one which rellly isn't any of Terrian's business.

N'cal hums a bit, thoughtful. "The Weyrleader mentioned the unrest from the holders in leadership meetings, but didn't elaborate too much except to say they've gotten angry with us for missing the attacks… I didn't know they'd started to perceive it as us robbing them, essentially." He lets out a sigh, somewhat noisily through his lips. "We've been changing the sweeps, yes. They work for a few days, and then we start missing things again. All the more evidence to implicate a rider rather than someone else obtaining the schedules somehow."

Terrian allows his lips to turn downwards in a frown, as one arm lifts up to rub at the back of his neck. "The guard be useless too. If you be willin' to beg my pardon. Don't think it be their place to stir their rumps out of the bazaar, and content to be leavin' travelers to what be comin' to them." He allows his arm to drop, and reaches out to gather up that map, rolling it tightly. "They're wishin' I'd just be lettin' the matter drop."

N'cal glances upward at Terrian, his face still bent to the map as he observes the guard's frown. Then the map is getting pulled away, and the bluerider straightens again, tapping his chin with one finger. "Well…" he muses aloud, his gaze falling on nothing in particular for the moment, "perhaps it might be best for the guard to focus it's attention on the Bazaar and the traders anyway. I've got to find a way to let the Weyrleader know that the attacks are originating from here; I can name you or leave you out of it, whichever you prefer. But the point is we'll be able to keep a sharper eye on other riders to figure out suspects. It should become clear soon enough, I hope. Then the matter really can be dropped." Eyes flicking back to Terrian, he asks, "What are you hoping for, for payment?"

Terrian mutely holds out the map to N'cal. "You can be takin' this, usin' it to be convincin' that weyrleader of yours. Though I ain't heard no one say he's anythin' but solid, so mayhap you don't even need it." And yet, the guard still offers it out. A shrug of his shoulders as a slight smile splits his dark features. "Ain't nothin' off my back if the weyrleader be knowin' my name. Them goldriders of yours already do, and bluerider Erissa knows I've been researching bandits in that archive of yours. As for payment… I'd be takin' a new map. That senior Jounreyman in the bazaar cost a pretty mark to be makin' this one up."

"You're right," N'cal concedes about W'rin being solid, though there's a humorless smirk attending his words as he takes the map. "Though I'm never entirely sure where I stand with the Weyrleader. This will give me more peace of mind, even if he takes my word." When Terrian reveals what he wants as payment, the bluerider's brows hike a bit. "That's all?" he asks, laughing a bit. "Faranth, man, that's not much recompense for pulling together evidence and putting up with a bunch of grumbling from your comrades here. I'll at least be buying you a drink on top of that." Of course, he'll probably think of something else, too. "This has certainly helped my outlook today. Thank you, Terrian. I'd best be off, but I'll see to it personally that you have what you ask."

"The layabouts can be grumblin' all they want." The smirk grows upon Terrian's face. "When I'm promoted over all of them? Mayhap we'll be seein' some changes." When N'cal makes as if to leave, Terrian will lead the way. Unbarring the door as he goes. "If you be lookin' for a way to be repayin' me, mayhap be seein' if Erissa might be let off some of her duties. I found somethin' what might be catchin' her interest, but I'll be damned if she be answerin' my messages."

N'cal follows willingly, scratching his chin again when Terrian makes his request concerning Erissa. "I haven't been able to see much of her myself lately," he notes with a slight frown. "Granted, our wings drill at different times, but even so, I haven't been able to check in on her. I…very much doubt I'll be able to convince W'rin to ease up on her duties. But I'll see what I can manage." As they draw near the entrance, N'cal digs into a pouch and produces something small wrapped in baking parchment. "Before I forget," he says, handing it to Terrian with a grin. "I'd be remiss if I met with you and forgot about Novak." Terrian will find a bit of dried meat in that tiny parcel once he opens it, though the canine will likely be aware of that before he even sees it. "Good day to you, Terrian." And he puts his shoulder to the door.

A hearty laugh will follow N'cal out, as Terrian opens his fist to see that bit of dried meat. "You're a good man N'cal," is shouted after, as the guard turns back to his work, ignoring the glances of the other guards in the room.

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