Magdaline, Miel, Ziniel, Xanthee, Edlsesa, Daenerys, Drucaden(NPC'ed by Magdaline)


Some Candidates are roped into helping the herders with an itchy situation


It is evening of the thirteenth day of the seventh month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.


Pens, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 23 Mar 2018 04:00


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"This had better not involve poo."



Here thar be pens, in a variety of shapes and sizes fit for all manner of beastie. The largest pens are those housing plump herdbeast for human or draconic consumption. A few of the smaller pens are unoccupied, though there are remnants of their former occupants still evident on ground and fence. The actual pens themselves are made solidly constructed, proof of Igen's resilience in improvements. In each pen there are troughs for feed and water, and they appear again by the stableside.

It is the seventy-third day of Summer and 104 degrees. It is a clear night.

On a late, but still sweltering summer evening, the last place anybody probably wants to be is the pens. Even most of the goats have said see-ya and scampered their little caprine butts as far away as they could. The cool waters of the lake are so close by and yet not accessible for those with chores to do still. And yet… a group of candidates were assigned to come here. Not because any particular malice Magdaline may or may not hold in her calculating little headwoman's heart, but because the herders requested help and she had some folks to spare. The instructions were pretty clear. Go to the furthest pens from the feeding grounds and ask for Drucaden. And make sure you wear sleeves that roll up.
*past the herdbeast, and the porcine, and the several groups of wherries.

One greenrider is tagging along for supervision and observation purposes, though Miel figures Magdaline has everything under control and that the herders wouldn't have something too risky in line. It could also be a very healthy dose of plain intrigue too that has her cheerfully bringing up the rear — probably to keep anyone from running or turning back. "At least it's evening! Won't have to toil under the direct sun!" she chimes in, oh-so cheerfully grinning. Dressed in light but sturdy fabric, her hair has been plaited, then coiled and pinned in place beneath a headscarf; summer is not kind on her skin type and she tends to keep covered until true nightfall.

The heat of the day is preferable to being indoors, at least for Ziniel. The girl's dressed to work, and she's looking so much happier than perhaps she should. Sure, Ziniel'll need a bath but that's not going to stop her from being outside. She'll just keep in line right behind the headwoman, so when the headwoman stops Zini may or may not bump into the woman. A quick apology is made just in case.

Being one of those folks to spare, Xanthee makes her way to the pens, looking increasingly more dour by the moment as she passes by the herdbeast, porcine and wherries to head back towards far pens. She's wearing a simple tunic in dark forest green, hanging almost to her knees and overtop a pair of capris style linen pants in dark brown. Her black hair is tied up in a runnertail to keep it out of her face. Mumbling under her breath, if someone were to come close enough to hear, she is muttering, "This had better not involve poo."

Edlsesa follows along, for once, unencumbered by her rucksack and art supplies. She's in sensible dress, plain trousers, boots and a serviceable, short sleeved tunic. Thick hair has been plaited and hangs in a long braid down her back. "What do you suppose they'll have us doing?" She asks whomever is closest, hands landing on her hips as the view of the pens comes into her line of sight.

Oh — a field trip to the Pens! Just when Daenerys thought he was done with such things, here he is, in weeding-worst, dashing through the muck and mire of many many animals. Oh, dear! But it's more training for a potential future of mucking out a dragon couch, so he'll roll along with it in the same easygoing way he's rolled along with every other task he's had to do for this candidacy. "Oh, it totally involves poo." He teases Xanthee playfully. "So much poo."

Well, where there are beasts, there will be poo. Watch your step unless you want to take home a few souvenirs, Xanthee.
Magdaline really isn't leading this expedition, more she's just following along to 'supervise' and because really, who doesn't need dinner and a show? It seems she has a basket tucked over her elbow, the sort that if you ask nicely enough the kitchens can provide. Drucaden is easy enough to locate. He is indeed in the very last pen. And what should he be surrounded by except for a flock of apprentices! And some very large and smelly vats of some sort of mysterious liquid. Also, there's sheep. There are so many, very sad, very fluffy, bleating sheep. It looks like quite a few of them seem to be trying to throw themselves down against the rocks? Or each other? Should sheep be doing that?

See? How bad can it be if there's snacks? Or is that bribery? Miel chuckles to herself for the comments being tossed back and forth among the Candidates, giving a slight shake of her head. "Expect anything and everything!" she tosses out as advice, along with a wink. Is she in on this? Who knows! Unless she is needed to intervene or assist, the greenrider drifts to the side and may even perch on the fence to watch Drucaden and his army apprentices take over. She'll make sure no one is in immediate danger! And maybe Ivaenth is nearby to beat up a certain brown who may try to snack on any herd animal, should they be paired with the poor Candidates.

Anything is better than being stuck indoors. Ziniel looks over the animals in question before she chuckles at Daenerys' teasing of Xanthee, and adds, "All the poo."

Shooting a look at Daenerys, Xanthee's emerald eyes narrow in the older man's direction. "Why are you in such a good mood brother-mine?" her tone vaguely suspcious as she watches him for a long moment. But now they are coming up to that last pen, with the large vats that are making her wrinkle her nose, the army of apprentices (why do they need Candidates with all those apprentices about?), and the fluffy sheep who are acting strangely, or at least she assumes that they aren't supposed to be throwing themselves down and against each other, but just to make sure, she pipes up with, "Are they supposed to be doing that?" Xan, asking the important questions.

Upon closer inspection, the apprentices also are acting a bit strange too. Swatting at themselves and itching as they try to collar a sheep by the scruff of it's neck and dunk it into the tank of something. The sheep doesn't want to go and it's large, but so are the apprentices. Between the two of them, they manage to dunk it briefly in and then out it jumps, much protesting that bath. "Quit your whining. You can dunk yourselves after dunking them. Ain't nothing a little vinegar won't cure!" Magdaline herself isn't getting too close to the pens, but she will clear her throat to get the journeyman's attention. "Drucaden… I've brought you more helpers." There's a wave of her free hand to the candidates around. "Do they just… grab a sheep and dunk them in?" He'll nod confirmation. "That… or they can get the dunked ones into that pen," he points a big thumb towards an impromptu holding pen set up in the back half of the pen. "So we don't dunk the same one twice."

Dunk or herd? Ziniel opts for herding. The sheep are easy enough to herd to the indicated pen. Particular with Daenerys' help.

Xanthee is not amused as she sees the apprentices itching, and looks as if she is about one moment away from stomping her foot like a toddler and throwing a tantrum. After the invasion of the monster spinners in the Barracks, the thought of dealing with more creepy crawlies is making the ebony haired girl scratching at her arms. When Ziniel and Daen abandon her to do the herding, she mutters under her breath at them and steps up closer to the vats and watches for a moment before she attempts at grabbing one of those fluffy beasts to pull it towards it's dip.

And that sheep is all like WHOOOOAAA!!! It had found a perfectly good rock to scratch against, thank you very much. There's a bit of a scramble as the sheep tries to scramble backwards. Good thing it's got such a nice thick coat for all the things to hide in Xan to get a better grip, right? But she won't be abandoned all to her lonesome. One of those scratching apprentices comes over with some points. "Grab it by the neck. I'll push." He seems to have no problem getting behind the ovine and pushing forward. Hopefully it's into the vinegar this one goes!

Xanthee is trying really hard not to actually have to touch any of that thick fleece which is counterproductive to actually getting the beastie into its smelly bath. Try as she might, she can't catch hold of them by gingerly grasping with the tip of her fingers. So when the apprentice comes up behind, she swallows her pride, and the lump in her throat at the idea, and grimaces as she encircles the ovine's neck with her arms and drags her heartily in the direction of the nearest vat.

The sheep really doesn't like things going around its neck. Silly little prey brain has trouble distinguishing between dragon and human trying to help. It's going to just act like Xanthee MIGHT be a dragon on the off chance she's trying to eat her and try to run for her life!!! the apprentice falls on his face as the sheep bolts forward, possibly into the candidate or not depending on her dodging skills and how firmly those hands might be wrapped. It doesn't matter that the vat is directly in front of the sheep. She's going for it! It's away!

Well considering the self-defense work that Xanthee has been doing rather intensively in the last few months, when she locks her arms around the beast's neck, her grip is strong. Which means that when the sheep runs off, the raven haired candidate's slight 5'3" frame gets dragged along with the animal as a loud shriek can be heard bubbling up from her as she kicks her leg over the animal to straddle it, hoping her weight on it's back will slow it down.

"That ain't a runner, girl!" The herder journeyman can be heard yelling once he sees someone riding a sheep. And adrenaline can do some pretty crazy things, so no, there's no slowing down. But considering the goal was to get the sheep in the vat of vinegar, it might be a success? Contrary to what the animal may have believed, it couldn't run across water. Definitely into the liquid. And also knocking over the entire tub as it scrambles to get away!

The shock of the sheep diving into the vat of vinegar is enough to get Xanthee to loose her grip on the fleece and falls face first into the smelly liquid. Her arms come up and protect her face while the sheep knocks over the tub and gets away. Now lying on the ground in a puddle of vinegar scented mud, with definitely some poo mixed in, Xan is sputtering and spitting out mouthfuls of the acidic liquid as she wipes at her eyes with the backs of her hands.

Magdaline is not laughing. Honestly she isn't. And the popped corn she's consuming at the moment is entirely coincidental. It's just so easy to make when the weather is as hot as it. Stick a pan of kernels in a nice sunny courtyard and boom! Sand flavored popcorn in a matter of minutes. The assistant headwoman snorts as she sees poor Xan's fate though, either of shock or trying to hide the laughter. "I guess there's more than one way to dip a sheep. Good luck with the rest of them." Apprentices, sheep, candidates. There's plenty of vinegar for everyone today.

Xanthee is SO not amused as she finally gets to her feet, soaking wet and stinking of vinegar. With one final swipe of her hand over her now grimy face, we just won't mention what could possibly be in that grime to spare poor Xan's sanity. It doesn't help very much, she just seems to push the dirt around. Without further words to anyone else, the raven-haired weyrbrat turned candidate strides quickly in the direction of the baths, muttering under her breath, "At least it wasn't poo…"

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