Rielle, R'zel, Z'bor


The Boardwalk just isn't what it was! Z'bor, Rielle and R'zel view the damage.


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


Boardwalk, Southern Weyr

OOC Date 20 Feb 2018 00:00





The Boardwalk is still standing after the floods; though there's damage to the wooden parts, leaving gaps to trip the unwary, the weather-smoothed ancient stone is more or less intact. Not so the stalls: even though the water has receded, between those that could be moved wholesale to safety, and those that were swept away by the storm tide, there's little left of them. Still, Southern resilience will win through: though only a handful of traders are currently in business, rebuilding has started.

Chaos. Life has been nothing but chaos since the storm, and it's been an exhausting event thus far for the dragon riders of Southern, with the evacuation, storm and following fall, everyone is pushed to their limits. This includes a tired, but heavily klah'd Z'bor, who makes his way down to the boardwalk with a steaming mug of klah in hand, trying to drink it before the morning drizzle cools it down or waters it down. Brown eyes fetch up the eerie and grim sight of the destroyed boardwalk, the groups of traders trying to sort out the mess and the grey skies. What he wouldn't give to be back in bed right about now, snuggled up warmly with his small family around, but even H'ris had been called out this morning, down to Black Rock itself, and Z'bor is on clean up here, kids with the nannies. The Serval WingSecond can only hope all this chaos ends soon. He moves around a gap in the boardwalk, careful not to spill his klah. What a mess.

It must be wingseconds-out-for-a-walk day, because R'zel is here too. He hasn't located klah; he /has/ located a wax tablet, also a piece of hide which contains a list of which boardwalk traders have stuff in the caverns. As keeping records wasn't exactly top priority, it's currently a rather short list, and this man's name isn't on it. He's speaking to one of the stallholders, who is waving his arms in despair. "But if you don't know where my stock is, what am I supposed to do?" R'zel tries to keep the smile on his face and an aura of calm about his person. "If it was taken to the caverns, then it's in the caverns. I'll make a note of your name and what you sent up; then, when more of the stalls are up, we'll bring down everything we can identify as needing to come to the Boardwalk. Or, you can go up to the Weyr and locate it yourself; all the Boardwalk stuff went into a couple of the old caverns."

Z'bor is not long before he comes up to where R'zel is dealing with the distraught trader. "I'll be headed up there in just a bit, if you'd like me to take a look." He offers, over hearing the man's troubles. "Morning R'zel." He greets, sipping at his klah after, which is starting to water down at this point to be honest. Z'bor doesn't know what he expected, but at least it's something to drink. "What a sharding mess…" He murmurs to himself, shaking his head.

"Morning, Z'bor." R'zel smiles at the other wingsecond with relief in his eyes: anything to distract the panicky crafter. The man drops his arms and seems to sag with relief: if two dragonriders with fancy knots are offering help, maybe it'll be all right. He explains that he is a tanner; fortunately, his stock was moved in a number of tough leather bags that should be easy enough to recognise. R'zel scratches the name and the details on his tablet, then pockets tablet and stylus. He wishes the tanner, "Clear skies," and turns away to talk to Z'bor. "It's a mess," he agrees. "Some of these stalls couldn't be shifted, but they weren't up to surviving the flood." He points to the broken footings of what must have been quite a solid wooden construction.

Z'bor is happy to see the man satisfied for now, really, it's a terrible mess they are all dealing with. He makes mental notes of the man's name and what the bags look like for his trip to the caverns later. Z nods grimly at R'zel's words, eyes taking in the destruction for themselves. "What wonders of destruction nature pulls off." This isn't the first time the boardwalk has been re-built, and it probably won't be the last. Tropical storms are something else and it makes one wonder why people would choose rebuilding over moving to a safer location. And in fact, Z'bor finds himself wondering that very thing as he finishes his watery klah. "Makes you wonder where to begin even…" He muses aloud.

"Ocelot's tasked with bringing their stuff down later on, but I don't think most of them are ready for it," R'zel observes. "Except the ones whose actual stalls we could get up there. The rest are going to need to find timber and stuff." He takes a few steps away from the stallholder, then stops and looks out to sea. "But you're right: the sea looks so calm and peaceful on a good day, and yet even a few feet of water can sweep all before it - and that's before you have storm winds to cope with as well. I'm just glad those sailors survived."

Z'bor shakes his head. "I think you're right about that. They're going to need some help on the rebuild do. I'll have to see if I can't get H'ris down here to help with repairs, quite the carpenter my weyrmate." He'd made the beds for their children at least, and had got very crafty in ways to hndle having babies and toddlers about the weyr. Many gadgets have been made. Z'bor sighs, shivering when he thinks of the sailors and their luck. "I am too, dying at sea isn't a pretty picture." Z'bor grew up on ships, he's seen his share of watery graves, it puts a grim look on the wingsecond's face.

"Is he? I didn't know that." R'zel turns to scan the part of the beach that's visible from here. "It's a shame we couldn't save the ship, too. Have you heard of any more going down?" There were several trying to ride out the storm at sea. He frowns at something in the distance. "I've been keeping my eyes open for wreckage, when we've flown over the coast."
A brown dragon becomes visible not far down the coastline, copper glints picking up the scattered sunlight as he quickly draws closer. Obhaeroth wings in low along the strand, landing rather more smoothly than his normal habit in order to deposit Rielle upon the beach before making his way to a flatter spot and settling down. "Gentlemen," she greets Z'bor and R'zel as she pulls off her helmet, coming to stand at her wing second's right shoulder as she surveys the thoroughly thrashed boardwalk. "What a mess," she sighs, though smirks to see a few of the merchants already back in place. "But life still pushes forward anyway."

Z'bor shakes his head at R'zel. "I haven't heard anything, but I've been keeping my eyes and ears out too." His eyes float over to all the driftwood and wreckage washed up on the shore and around the boardwalk. "Some interesting furniture could be made out of all that wreckage though. So it might not all be a loss." Rielle's approach is met with a salute and a smile from Z'bor. "Good morning Wingleader!" He nods at Rielle's last and shakes his head. "Aye, pushes forward and never stops. I feel like I could use a seven of rest days." A joking pleading look is sent Rielle's way before someone down the boardwalk hails Z'bor. "Excuse me for a moment guys." Z'bor moves down the boardwalk waving at the man that hailed him. He'll be back.

"Wingleader." R'zel salutes with a rueful grimace. "Isn't it just. But I suppose it's not the first time it's been thoroughly wrecked." He leaves unspoken, 'And it won't be the last'. "Wasn't there a Threadfall where some of the shops got flamed?" He scans the row of empty spaces and the very few functioning stalls. "It amazes me that anyone's up and running again so soon, but I suppose it's almost a sevenday now."

Rielle returns the salutes given, the look she returns to Z'bor completely unrepentant despite her smile. If she doesn't get a restudy yet, neither does he! She chuckles softly as he trots off to answer his summons, nodding at R'zel's question about the boardwalk getting flamed. "Aye, it is. And bouncing back is just something we're good at. I'm actually more concerned about whoever may have been out and about when the storm hit." Wildlings, traders, holders. "I just got in from a sweep. No one needing help that I could see, thankfully, but that doesn't mean there aren't any out there. Might be a good time to get some sweeps in on foot, too, since the weather's calmed." Even if it has gotten rainy again.

R'zel nods rather diffidently at that suggestion. "Yes, and the rain's not helping with visibility from the air. Harder to cover the ground that way, of course, but I suppose we could fly and stop, fly and-" He's interrupted by an outburst of hammering from a nearby stall that's under construction, and glances to see what's happening there before he continues. "And it might help along the river, where it's not so open."

Rielle nods over the rain, teal eyes widening expressively to show just how much she likes having to deal with that little inconvenience. Not that the rain is unexpected or even something they're all unused to, but that doesn't make it any less annoying. The hammering draws her attention briefly as well before she finds herself nodding again to R'zel's last. "That's one of my main worries. Always hardest to see what's going on there. Amani was saying yesterday morning that some of the wildlings who live here or close to here are worried about the clans they came from, saying they might go closer to the shores along the sea or river if they need help. I can't imagine not having solid stone over your head during a blow like that."

R'zel shakes his head. "Nor me - though I can't really imagine living without solid stone overhead anyway." Typical Fortian that he is! "And being among trees - it's hard to know where would be best to go for safety, especially as they probably didn't get as much notice as we had. There must be any number of fallen trees and branches. I suppose you'd be all right if there were caves nearby."

"And Faranth knows those show up where you least expect them to." Caves that is. Mention of them causes gently-arched brows to lift, and Rielle glances off in the direction of the river cliffs. "I wonder if any of them ended up in the catacombs… Have we checked down there yet, do you know?"

"I don't know if anyone's specifically looked," R'zel says thoughtfully. "Though they might have been spotted anyway, because some of the stuff we moved ended up in storage way, way down in the tunnels, there was that much of it. Granted, it's so vast, you probably could hide a few dozen people down there if you wanted."

Z'bor comes swaggering back a few moments later, shaking his head with a grin. One of the traders had managed to make light of the situation and it had been amusing. His klah mug is running woefully low, but things need doing. He checks off another salute as he approaches and comes back to Rielle's side. "So, where to go from here?" He asks on approach, waving at the mess in front of them, an eyebrow raised in question.

Rielle nods again, though is of a mind to go look anyway. She might have gotten a little bit of an itch to go explore again after the whole adventure with the thieving kids. Z'bor's return is met with a smile, his question countered with a huffed sigh. "Every free rider comes out to the beach with a saw, hammer, nails, and two hands?" she suggests. "And maybe get the bonfire going with some food and booze besides if we can…" May as well sweeten the deal a bit.

R'zel grins. "I like that idea!" R'zel's actually quite fond of woodwork. "But if you'll excuse me, Wingleader, I need to speak to the rest of these people and see who wants their stuff back today." As he's already told Z'bor, that's Ocelot's job for the afternoon. "See you later, Z'bor?" As soon as permission is granted, he'll head down the boardwalk to speak to the next trader in line.

Z'bor waves R'zel off with a nod. "Yup. Lets grab an ale at the Kitten eh?" And then the man is off and Z'bor turns to Rielle. "Now that's the best damn idea I've heard all morning!" In regard to a fire and some booze, that is. He perks up quite a bit at that idea and nods. "How about I go arrange food and booze with the caverns, since my klah is gone anyway, and you and Obehaeroth can gather up victims to help?" He raises a brow, knowing Serval is going to hate them for this, because even with everything, Z'bor's kept up the rigorous PT schedule and the shared sweeps with Ocelot. Everyone is tired and grumpy.

"Clear skies, R'zel!" Rielle calls to the departing bronzerider, and looks back to Z'bor with a weary chuckle and a nod. Much as she'd like to just go sleep, it's still only morning, and getting livelihoods back in order is definitely the priority. "Aye, sounds like a plan. We'll get the fire going, too." The easy way, since the rain keeps threatening. And so Serval's leadership splits up for the moment, the majority of the wing soon descending upon the boardwalk to do what they can. At least they can't complain that they weren't well fed and watered!

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