Who

H'rik, Fergus, Xanthee, Daenerys

What

Three Candidates all doing their own PT, come across H'rik and Wendryth in the bowl. The clutchdad, through his rider, passes down Quests to two of the Candidates, should they chose to accept them of course.

When

It is sunrise of the first day of the fifth month of the thirteenth turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Central Bowl, Igen Weyr

OOC Date 27 Feb 2018 05:00

 

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"Does he make requests like this of all the Candidates Sir?"


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Central Bowl

Cradled childlike in an easterly mountainous embrace, the steppes of the central bowl nestle cozily between lake and weyr. The latticework of dusty adobe paths spider out from the southerly Weyr Road, wagon-ruts of which curve lazily to the adobe sprawl of the northeastern bazaar. A small footpath, just as abused, ambles away from the lake's shore, travelling over rock and hill to the northern dragonet complex and branching itself due west to end at the entrance of the blessedly cool inner caverns. The abandoned caverns of Igen-that-was lie at the end of one disused tracking. All around, the dizzying heights of the caldera's sharp-sloped sides are pocked here and there with ledges, the weyrs' draconic occupants needing no path to guide their way.


Early morning it may be, but H'rik is out and about already. The sun is up just enough to spread golden light over the Weyrbowl, illuminating the Weyrleader and the wagon leader he's talking to. The conversation is winding down, so it would seem; the wagon's contents are ready to be moved, and there's a handshake between the two men. Wendryth stands just off, proud and tall, observing the goings on as the wagon's few other occupants start unloading things from the wagon. Crates mostly, but also some big rolls of fabric. The morning is pleasantly warm already, spring a welcome reprieve from winter, and H'rik wears lighter clothes, a jacket with his Wing badge thrown casually over his plain shirt.

Fergus is not made for running. But it seems that's what is being forced upon him in the early morning as a candidate for the sake of PT. He may be muscular, though it's more his upper body than his lower body - his strides are short and he's not that fast, but he's doing it. Despite the fact running is making the wind fling his beard about and sometimes into his face. Fun! As Fergus jogs along around the bowl, he slows a bit more as he comes closer to the wagon and H'rik. Knowing it's the Weyrleader, he pauses nearby and offers up a salute as he's been instructed, "Weyrleader." The greeting is a grunt, deep and basso. His usual 'not many words'.

With the schedule of a Candidate, Xanthee has had to get up extra early if she wanted to have her usual run to start the day, well before sunrise. This particular morning it was along the lake shore, from where the raven-haired girl now appears, wearing a pair of shorts and an emerald green short sleeved tunic, her thick mass of ebony hair pulled back in a high runner tail. Her cheeks are flushed red and her breathing is just steadying as she walks slowly as a cool down in the direction of the Living Caverns for some breakfast. The Weyrleader is spied though and she offers him a wave as she saunters in his direction, her curiosity dictating she needs to know more. Seeing Fergus then, she gives him a small smile and also offers a smart salute directed at H'rik and a "Good morning Sir."

Ah, candidates - they're popping up all over the place at the moment! Not that H'rik minds too much (at least sorting out having enough food and supplies for them isn't directly his job). Wendryth certainly doesn't mind! The more brave adventurers for his children, the better! "Morning, candidate," he returns to Fergus's greeting, and the more familiar Xanthee also gets a nod and a "morning, Xanthee." Wendryth is ambling closer now, the blue-green of his eyes spinning faster as he comes up behind his rider. "Ah - I'm afraid I don't know your name?" The Weyrleader says of Fergus, giving the brawny man a curious, but friendly look.

Fergus slows to an actual stop in his run, his breathing a bit labored but not too bad. All that stamina-building from chopping trees with an axe. "Fergus, sir," he grunts in reply, inclining his shaggy head in greeting. Wendryth is eyed curiously for a moment, his lips twitching into a slight grin from behind his bushy beard as he nods his head in greeting to the bronze, as well. Xanthee is also given a grunt of greeting and a nod as he pauses to wipe the back of his hand across his sweaty brow. The wagon unloading is eyed before he adds, "Need help?" He's always so straight to the point.

Xanthee reaches up and pull the tie holding her mass of raven hair back, and with a toss of her head she shakes her tresses free before combing her fingers through it. As the bronze comes closer, a smile touches the girl's lips and she bows her head in the dragon's direction, "Good morning to you too Wendryth." she says easily before perking up at Fergus' query to the Weyrleader. "Yeah, you know we Candidates are here to help." She says with a cheerily helpful tone to her voice with the barest hint of playful sarcasm.

Sorry Fergus, the questioning isn't over! Though H'rik's glance back and up at Wendryth's hovering head indicates the questions may not be coming from the rider half. "You were, ah, Searched from outside Igen, weren't you?" That much he does know about the man. It's something! "What was your occupation?" But that he doesn't. "Yeah, the uh, the wagon would certainly appreciate some help. In a moment - I just-" pause, distant gaze. Wendy is saying something. At least it's not directly to Fergus or Xanthee or they'd probably have a headache. The bronze, for his part, drops his head lower to look at Xanthee when she says good morning to him, exuding friendliness. "Have a couple of questions." Not ominous at ALL, no no.

Fergus sweeps a hand down over his beard absently, straightening out the bushy mass. It was probably super tangled from it waggling in the wind like that when running and he's suddenly self-conscious at being eyed by not only the Weyrleader but the clutchsire, as well. "Southern, yes," he grunts in reply, inclining his head in affirmation, "I'm a Journeyman Woodsmith." He reaches up absently to touch where his axe harness /used/ to settle across his shoulders, his breath huffing out in slight disappointment, "Not allowed to have my axe with me anymore, though." Because a candidate lugging around a giant axe is probably not something to be encouraged. He perks up a bit at the mention of questions, though his brow furrows a bit as he tries to divine what question might indeed be asked of him, "Ask away." His pale blue gaze flicks betwween both H'rik and Wendryth.

Xanthee really tries hard not to laugh as H'rik start with his interrogations, watching the way he gets that far off gaze when talking to his dragon, as she stands politely and waits for him to question the newcommer. Her emerald eyes flick back to Wendryth when the dragon's head drops lower and she gives him the warmest of smiles, as she leans towards him, almost conspiratorily, "You helped make a fine clutch of eggs. You should be so proud." Then with a little wink she straightens up again and rests her hands on her hips as she turns back to H'rik and Fergus.

"Oh, a woodsmith." H'rik nods as Fergus shares that bit of information. Wendryth's head turns ever so slightly, so that his focus can switch from Xanthee to the Southerner; then the former is speaking to him and Wendy's attention is back to her, his jaw dropping in the way that dragons do when they're smiling. The friendly aura is somehow proud-feeling now he's been complimented on his clutch, the dragon's emotions damn near as loud as his voice is. H'rik clears his throat, the messenger boy between Wendryth and the candidates. "No, probably for the best," he says of the axe, "but - hopefully you have something else sharp with you. Wendryth would, uh, like you to carve something out of wood. Something depicting a daring deed, to, um, give encouragement to the candidates." There's a flick of a look at his dragon as if to say, really? And don't go anywhere Xanthee, because Wendryth is giving you a very pointed look now. This bronze knows what he wants!

Fergus braces himself for whatever the question may be, his posture straight. He's trying to look like a good candidate, willing and obedient to whatever might be asked of him. Then the question drops and his shoulders relax as he rumbles a basso laugh, "That'd be great. I've my whittling knife, as always." The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly as he grins behind that bushy beard of his, the expression barely noticeable. He considers for a second before turning to Wendryth directly, inclining his head, "You have anything in mind that would be a good daring deed?" Because he certainly wants to be sure to get the correct one. Turning back to H'rik, he adds in an offhand way, "Already started on a carving of your dragon, actually. Finished one of the clutchmother, too. Been making them as a memento." He glances sidelong at Xanthee, briefly, as she's the only one who's probably seen the work in progress.

Xanthee isn't going anywhere, she's enjoying watching this little back and forth, a raven brow lifting when the Weyrleader talks about Wendryth wanting something carved and she looks back at the bronze with an amused smile to see him peering at her. Uh oh. But then she speaks up with, "Oh was that what you were working on in the Galleries the other day?" She turns to H'rik, "He's really good." She gives her opinion on the matter of Fergus' skill.

H'rik, too, looks relieved! Not that candidates ever seem too opposed to things they're asked to do, but this one is a bit…off beat. "He's-" another glance at Wendryth, who lets out a hot puff of dragony breath over the two candidates, now that Fergus is talking directly to him. "Open minded. And interested in this carving of him, now you've mentioned it," the Weyrleader says, with laughter on his face. "He'd rather like to see what you consider daring." So helpful! Xanthee gets H'rik's attention now, as much for her speaking up about the carving as for something for her, too. "Wendryth - well, he already kinda knows you. So he knows what he wants you to do," he grins, a touch sheepishly. "It's something for Zsaviranth actually - he'd like you to get her something nice-smelling, to make her time on the sands more pleasant." Since she's worked with teas, she must know what smells good, right? Such is draconic logic, anyway.

Fergus strokes his beard thoughtfully with one hand, eyes narrowed in thought. He even makes a noise deep in his throat to help the thinking along. "Will have to think on it," he notes in his even-toned deep voice, "Once I finish the carving of Wendryth." He glances towards the bronze and bobs his head in a nod, grunting, "You'll definitely get to se it when it's finished. Picked a nice wood. Color almost matches your hide." Because he prides himself on picking out the perfect wood, after all. Xanthee's compliments are waved off with a humble tone, "Was not even finished when you saw it last. Looks much better now." He arches a brow at the question/quest given to Xanthee, though doesn't comment verbally.

Xanthee giggles lightly as the hot puff of dragony breath stirs the hair around her face. But then H'rik is turning towards her and she hikes her brow higher up as he makes his/Wendryth's request of her and she ponders that for a moment before a smile widens on her face as she gets an idea. "I think I can come up with something that will work well." she bobs her head in an affirmative nod, looking quite amused at the bronze's requests as she just has to ask H'rik, "Does he make requests like this of all the Candidates Sir?"

Wendryth is pleased as punch, looking it as much as a dragon can, but more than that, feeling it. And the candidates can probably feel those emotions too, because Wendryth is not shy about them. "He'll love it," H'rik assures Fergus with absolute certainty. Xanthee has her quest, and H'rik smiles back happily as she accepts it with a positive air. "Excellent." As to Wendryth's new love of giving out tasks: "er - he didn't last time. I think it might be now he's over the first-time dad thing, maybe." He gives a look to the bronze, who has lifted his head a bit so he's not encroaching on the humans' space quite so much. "I mean, I don't think it's going to make any difference to the hatchlings, but…well." 'If it keeps him happy' is left unsaid!

Fergus grunts in obvious amusement, the happy feelings still making him grin behind his mighty beard, "Just glad it's something I can actually do." Because being given Xanthee's quest, for example, would have him completely baffled. "Got enough time to the eggs hatching to get it done, I think," he considers, staring off for a moment as he ponders the timeframe in his head, "Might need to scope out the different bits of wood I have left." He goes silent for a moment more as he mentally starts preparing for his quest, apparently off in Woodsmith lala-land for a moment. He then blinks as though coming out of a daze, "Hatchlings seem to choose randomly? Or do they go for ones who touched their egg?"

Xanthee does feel rather pleased with herself for the idea slowly brewing in the back of her mind, a creative spark of an idea building gradually. To H'rik she grins, "Well being a dad certainly seems to agree with him." before she turns to Fergus' question then and ponders silently, "Well this is my third Candidacy, and with all the eggs I've touched, I'm still waiting for my lifemate. So I'm not so sure. I always thought the Touchings were more for us Candidates, so we can get used to the idea of the eggs and the dragonets inside in a very real way, to keep down on panic during the Hatching itself." But then a small blush colors her cheeks when she realizes the question was asked to the Weyrleader and not her. "Sorry."

Cue the jogger on the scene: Daenerys, going about the business of staying in shape, dressed in grungy clothes suited to the task, coming ever closer to the group with steady pace intact— at least until the stitch in his side forces him to stop just short of him. Oh hai. "Morning." He gasps, holding his ribs and taking nice deep breaths against the feeling that he may never breathe properly again.

H'rik is all smiles, happy that both quests have gone down well. He's pleased, too, when Xanthee offers up an answer to Fergus's question - heck, he's only been on the candidate side once in his life, so he's not had that much experience at it, really. He'll offer a nod for the woman's thoughts on the matter. "That's the impression I get, too." Unintentional pun! "And who knows what hatchlings can sense when they're still in the egg? Dragons are telepathic, so…." He'll leave it at that, and will offer a nod of greeting to the newest candidate to join the little group. "Morning, candidate." A face he recognises, if not particularly well. Wendryth is all curiousity again - this one he remembers from a recent egg touching, and Daenerys will get a look over now.

Fergus nods his head once at Xanthee's words, though gives a grunt of doubt along with the movement, "Touching the eggs … seems some of them get more of a connection." He rolls his broad shoulders in a srug before adding, "Hard to say, I suppose. Lots of candidates touching all of them." Especially that Green Goddess egg that seems to be the talk of the barracks. "Well. If it happens, it happens," he notes finally, seemingly very practical about these matters. Daenerys is given a grunt of greeting and an incline of his head.

Xanthee snickers uner her breath at the bronzerider's unintentional pun before she waves a hand in the direction of her adoptive brother who is coming up on them all winded with a raise in her brow, "Morning Daenerys, you ok?" she asks as she sees him clutch at his side. At Fergus' observations from his egg touchings, "I've noticed that too, some are really in your face and others just kind of subtle, maybe it reflects the personality of the dragon within?" she speculates widly, cause really no one knows. "And I try to touch as many as I can, and my favorites I'll usually go back a couple of different times just to see if they feel any different a second or third time." With the brawny man's last though she just shrugs her shoulders, "That's pretty much it. There's really nothing we can do to control the matter of Impression, so we're just along for the ride."

H'rik doesn't have anything wise to add to that, so he'll just nod at what Fergus says, and Xanthee's reiteration of it. "Who knows what baby dragons look for on the sands?" He turns an affectionate look at Wendryth, but it doesn't last long. The wagon master is trying to catch his attention, and H'rik gives the candidates a farewell, fingers tapping his temple in a little salute, before he heads off to talk business with the wagon master, the pair wandering out of earshot. Wendryth will give a rumble, before lifting off and head in - unsurprisingly - the direction of the hatching grounds.

Daenerys is fine, really; he just likes to try and challenge himself like any young man does. Straightening as he's caught his breath now, ge gives Xanthee a grin. "I'll live!" But the talk's turned to eggs now, and he shakes his head slowly. "Makes me wonder how they do that — get in your head from inside the shell…" He looks off after H'rik as the man gets back to Weyr business

Fergus offers H'rik a parting salute, as he's not sure on the etiquette for people who are leaving - best to err on the side of caution. "Some of the eggs are really rather … shocking," he notes in his even monotone, voice a basso rumble. He pauses to squint up at the sky, frowning at the position of the sun. He grunts in annoyance, "Best get to breakfast soon. Got early nanny duty." He gives a wave to both Daen and Xanthee with his broad hand before heading into the Living Caverns. He needs fuel before the hours that are going to be spent fending children off from pulling his beard. So much fun.

Xanthee gives a respectful salute to the departing Weyrleader and a wave to his dragon when he takes off. Then Fergus is taking himself off to his duties and she can't help but call after him in a very apologetic, "I'm so sorry. I hope they are on their best behaviour." But from this weyrbat's experience they never are. So all she can offer is a little wave to the departing redhead. Then it's just her and brother and she nods, "I don't wonder, I'm just there for the ride. Especially with this batch, some of them really goo to your head." She giggles remembering the Green Goddess Egg well. then her face softens just a little bit and she reaches out to lightly touch his arm, "How are you holding up?" She asks, sympathetic to the difficult situation he and Reveka are facing at the moment.

So with Rukbat now well and truly risen, the day must begin. Xanthee coaxes Daenerys to the Living Caverns with the promise of some klah, breakfast and a willing ear to listen if he has need of it.

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