Allash, Renalde


Shift change at the Library. Renalde clues the guards in on some shenanigans afoot.


It is sunset of the twenty-eighth day of the fifth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.


Southern Weyr

OOC Date


allash_default.jpg renalde_default.jpg


Archive Library

Where once books reigned supreme, this open space is now dominated by a stalwart skybroom reaching to the sky through a broken ceiling. What was once evidence of collapse is now ornately carved with engraved ivy, matched by a clever contraption of stone that allows the gap to be closed in inclement weather. A small garden occupies the space around the tree-trunk, all manicured bushes and flowering shrubbery enclosed by a grated gutter. The walls are lined with bookcases, while a spiral staircase leans on the western wall to wind upwards to the second level. Tucked in the corners and scattered in the main areas are tables and chairs, cafe-style, and comfortably worn overstuffed armchairs. It is the perfect place for individuals to gather, to enjoy the offerings of the food-cart or a spirited conversation.

It is the fifty-eighth day of Autumn and 70 degrees. The recent rains have left everything wet and muddy, but Rukbat shines brightly overhead.

It's afternoon, late, but not quite dinner. The skylight is cranked open and the raucous cries of avians and the rising-falling chirring of insects filter past the framed glass down through the branches of the skybroom th— is that a nest in the Archive tree? The guard on the War Room has just changed and Allash is officially off-duty until a moonlit shift late. He clasps arms with the other guard, a spry older man with a limp and a cleverly endearing look about his wizened old redfruit face. Allash is paused, considering the stacks with some thought in his head, debating what to do with the hours between this and his next shift.

Renalde sweeps out of the War Room, a bundled set of hides tucked neatly under an arm. His footsteps are poised to take him straight out of the library without pause when a familiar face is checked. "Saren." Is that fondness in his voice? Maybe just a touch. His footsteps take a slight turn and he walks towards the pair. "Evening shift tonight? Or is that you Allash?"

"Evenin' Headman, Sir," grates Saren, knuckling his brow at Renalde. "Ayup. Evening shift." Allash straightens from his consideration and salutes the Headman, "I've got the night shift, Sir." The young guard eyes the bundle in the Headman's arms, observing the neat tuck and dismissing that the Headman would need help. "Did you need anything, Headman?" Allash's eyebrows tick up.

"No," Renalde dismisses Allash's offer with a slight flick of his hand. "I believe Ardstelle was speaking about sending up a Klah cart tonight, and one of those young harper apprentices was going to perform. You might stay to enjoy it if you have no duties tonight."

"That sounds right nice, Sir," Allash nods, "Thanks for the suggestion." He smiles at Saren, "What did you want for dinner," he nods over at the area where the performer will be later, "I'll bring it up and we can listen to the Harper on your break."

"Other then the prank a few of the apprentices have planned," Renalde lifts an eyebrow in commentary on the ways of young people and their tricks, "it should be quiet with the food and entertainment tonight."

"Prank?" Allash's easy, alert slouch straightens, eyes narrowing slightly, "This something in the 'apprentices will be apprentices' category or… something I should look into?" He considers the Headman closely, wondering where and how the man got his information.

Renalde knows everything that goes on in his weyr sooner or later. The hand flicks again, "Apprentices will be apprentices. I believe they intend to switch some of the bindings on the books with a few… select choices." Too refined is Renalde to put the name to Erotica. "The archivist is aware and will put it to rights tomorrow."

"We'll be sure to keep an eye out that nothing goes too awry." Allash includes Saren in the comment and the old man nods, a wealth and a lifetime of pranks and shenanigans locked away behind the wizened facade.

"Of course." Renalde casts one last look over the library, then, satisfied that all is well, steps away from the pair. "Be well Saren. Allash." His goodbye may seem abrupt to those who are unfamiliar with the Headman, but it holds all the cool and composed warmth which the headman's interactions with others usually do.

Allash and Saren straighten and salute. "Likewise, Sir." Mrrmph, says Saren. Allash tips a head at the elder guard, "I'll be back in an hour or so Saren." With that, the young guard takes his leave, to return later with food for entertainment and the oversight of managed shenanigans.

Add a New Comment