The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967. The Dragonriders of Pern is a registered copyright.

This is a log of an online roleplay on PernMUSH. This is not fanfiction, and the characters are copyright their respective players.

Grather wonders out of the apprentice dorms slowly and awkwardly, his pants stretched tight against the skin, leaving nothing to the imagination, even as the his tunic shows off a tight stomach and a rips around the apprentice badge on his shoulder. He eyes the Headwoman with a sorry look that changes darkly as he notes the other woman.

SeaCraft Hall - First Floor Hall
With nets hanging from most of the high rafters, the ceiling doesn't appear as tall as it truly is. More a nexus of corridors than a true hallway or foyer, this bustling open area provides access to the entirety of the first floor. The floor, originally cut from rough blocks of dark grey local stone, has been worn smooth and polished with centuries of bookmarks at this, the main center of one of Pern's largest crafts. The hangings on those bits of the walls not taken up by doors and their frames, display a history of watercraft on Pern. There are scenes of dragons fighting Thread over an open sea and a fishing crew, scenes of the almost legendary shipfish, of the first in each new class of vessel...all proudly displayed to the world.
Through the various doorways, you can smell the delectable scents of the kitchen, see apprentices, notes and nets in their arms as they run in and out of classes, Masters and Journeymen in conference and the occasional firelizard flitting through, a message tube tied to its back.
Contents:
Grather
Dimity
Rhi(#18625PJVce)
Obvious exits:
CourtYard Dorms Stairs Kitchen ShipYards Great Hall

Rhi slumps down in her chair as she hears Dess moving across the room, and then takes the most of the opportunity to motion Grather over towards her as she casts a keen eye over the apprentice."Grather, dear. I think that we need to get you up to the stores and arrange you some new clothes. " She sits herself back up and straightens out her clothes. 'How do you expect to work like that/'

Grather squeaks in a tightly strained and high voice, "Work? in this?" still glaring darkly at the other woman, it was /not/ funny Dess! "I was /so/ hoping you were going to offer new clothes."

Dess leans down to plant a quick little kiss in the air just beside Rhi's cheek, apparently not recognizing that she's being ignored. "You are just a /wonder/ you sweet sweet girl! Those yellow sheets were perfectly what I nee--er.. Oh my!" Her eyes catch on Grather and her brows shoot up on her forehead, one hand fluttering to press against her lips. "Oh dear but that boy is about to burst his seams! And /look/ at those garments!" She crinkles up her nose and suddenly glides forwards, all a'bustle. "You POOR poor boy! Wouldn't you rather some nice velvet breeches? I'm /sure/ our dear Rhi here could find some in the stores.. Very /last/ season Velvet is.. I'm sure they've several that were cast out when it faded from fashion."

A lanky young boy of approximately 15 turns, he stands about 5'11" and still has quite some growing to do. Although his shoulders are broad from his upbringing on a small cothold, he hasn't filled out the potential of his frame yet, and therefore looks quite thin. He's quick to smile, and his sandy hair tends to flop where it will, often obscuring his green eyes with their quiet twinkle in them. His hands are also long and broad, usually with dirt stuck under the finger nails, and old and new scratches crisscrossed across his palms and fingers.
The simple blue and white knot of an apprentice in the SeaCraft Hall, adorns the left shoulder of a sun-bleached tunic. He wears it untucked over a pair of baggy, light beige, pants, a long handled working knife hanging from his belt. A pair of leather sandals, protect the soles of his large feet.
Grather backs slightly away from the ministrations of this woman, inching his way back around behind the Headwoman, "Uhm, thank you, but I'm sure plain wherhide will probably be just fine." he replies softly, trying to stay polite.

Rhi nods 'I know what you mean, one of my best skirts was ruined too." Her eyes nearly roll as she is air-kissed. "I hardly think that velvet is appropriate for working in the shipyards anyway, thankyou Dess. Why don't you just rest your delicate little self there. " and she motions to one of the chair -just- over there. 'I 'll have something that will fit you anyway, and we'll pass those down to some of the youngsters. Now Dess..." she says in that small calm voice that she's taken to using with the older woman. "Can you start to understand how important it is to wash things correctly now?"

Jett is soaked to the bone and slightly dripping, he's wearing wet navy blue pants and a wet navy blue shirt, his hair drips water that smells like the sea, by looking at Grather, Dess, and Rhi, he heads toward the Dorms a bit quicker, leaving a slightly moist trail.

"Oh you must be joking??" Dess flutters at Rhi with a small laugh, "Who would keep velvet for anything /but/ rags after it's been out of style a -whole season-???" She waits a moment longer, eyes bright and expectant, as if she thinks someone's going to laugh and explain it's all been just a big joke and of -course- velvet shouldn't be worn for anything but work. When nothing comes, she looks positively stunned and clasps her hands to her chest. "Oh.. Oh deary me.. this place is just.. it just.. Oh I think I should sit down, indeed, thank you dear." Her last words are quiet and slightly out of breath, as if it's all just been too much for her, and this only gets compounded when Grather suggests wherhide. "Wher...hide?" she echo's, then promptly flumps into the seat indicated, fanning herself hastily. "Oh my..oh my my my!" she murmurs over and over again.

Grather looks stupendously at the woman, although he nods thankfully, even profusely, as he stays where he is with Rhi between him and that woman. She doesn't scare him, not really, but he /does/ look slightly ridiculous.

Rhi's face suddenly brightens as she remembers how much that drink that Hugh gave her yesterday helped her cope with Dess. "I've just had simply the most -perfect- idea." she gushes in near imitation of Dess's speech. "Why don't we all move down to the Hulk and have a friendly little drink together down there. Of course." she grins at Grather "I'll pick you out some clothes on the way down there, so no too many people will have to see you looking like that. Although..." stifling a giggle, she looks over the apprentice again, and then glances over to Dess. "I dare say some of them wouldn't be complaining too much." Near bounding out of her seat before she has time to change her n=mind, she takes a step towards the doorway. "So what do you all say?"

Jett doubles his time toward the dorms, maybe because he doesn't want to be caught soaked.

Rhi calls out "When you're drier, wander down to the Hulk, Jett"

"But but but!" Dess flusters, still not recovered from earlier commentary. Face ashen, she waves her hands in feeble protest, green eyes round with unhappiness. "Couldn't we go to that nice little place in Tillek?? The .. The Hulk is so.. so.. " By the look she gives and the way she talks, one might think she's searching for the word "Common".

Grather looks down at himself, then glances around the hall and just rolls his eyes as he notes /another/ person spying him in this ridiculous attire. His eyes flash darkly at the woman again, but he forces a slight smile, "Thank you Rhi." he says softly, his voice still strained and high.
A
Audrin strides past with a rolling gait. She's covered in woodchips and oil and Faranth knows what else. She's also whistling a sea shanty. One with notoriously rude words.

Jett stops in his tracks, "Yes Headwomen..." how does she do that?!

Dess lets out a small gasp as the dirt covered woman strides past, looking suddenly rather faint, and one hand flutters up to touch against her cheek. "Oh.. Oh my. Dear! Dear you can't possibly seen in that attire!!! You've.. here let me brush you off at the very least!" Striken with the thought that this other female might not realize she's such a mess, Dess launches from her chair in a flurry of skirts and glides after her on quick feet, one arm extended and obviously ready to sweep away some of the grit. Thankfully, she doesn't know many seashanties, so the whistling only strikes her as something fairly mannish to do.. and although her lips purse, she makes no mention of /that/.. having more concern for the poor dears 'reputation' as she sees it.

"Now there's someone who would enjoy a drink at the Hulk." Rhi grins, still keen on this drink idea. "Would you care to join us, I though that it might be nice to enjoy a nice, friendly drink together. "Or...' she looks around the group, panicking almost as Dess starts to give her attentions to Audrin , "We could all go to the beach and drink there. That's a much better idea."

A striking woman who captures immediate attention, Audrin's rather angular face is framed by long, almost black hair which has escaped from its severe braids. Her piercing blue-grey eyes and poised set of her lean, wiry body betray a slightly nervous character. She is tall and walks with the grace of someone used to hard physical exercise. You notice a long scar, fading under a healthy tan on her upper arm but the tan doesn't hide the severity of the old wound. She is also missing two fingers from the same hand.

Audrin's dress style, donned for the craftdinner is simple yet flattering. Black hide trousers hug her lean frame, slung low on her hips and held in place by a heavy pewter linked belt, closed by a clasp bearing a stylised wave design. Tucked into the trousers, the matching shirt is a soft grey, plain but well cut. The undone lacings at the throat reveal a leather choker from which a silver sea shell hangs. Intricately woven strands of material, attached to her left shoulder, signify Audrin's position as a Master fisher.

She looks to be around 35 Turns, 1 months, and 6 days old.
Carrying:
Halva

Audrin stops suddenly and graces Dess with a look a wherry might give a trundlebug that is about to become a snack. One hand sweeps up from her waist and prevents Dess' hand from touching her, "Faranth's mouldy couch. Who is she?" The seacraft master calls out to Rhi in obvious confusion, "Looks like she should be at a Lord Holder's soiree rather than in the Seacraft courtyard." That's our Audrin.

Dess gasps as her hand is momentarily prevented, but then a smile sweeps across her lips and she twitters merrily. "Oh now! You're really too kind.. of /course/ I don't /belong/ here! I'm only staying until my daddy gets over his little fit." Drawing herself up, she plucks out the ends of her skirts and performs a little curstey to the other woman. "Desstra Shayne Cloviant, dear. From Cloviant vinyards in High Reaches? Hmm... but that's not important just now. I think you've had a little lapse in memory.. happens to the best of us!" She fairly beams as she begins to once more swipe at whatever bits of grit and grime she can get her hands onto, even going so far as to try and roll up one of Audrin's sleeves if she can get a hold on it. Not likely, but she'll try. "Here now.. a little brush off, a little tug and pull.. We'll get you fit enough. Hmm.. I've some scent in my trunks.. perhaps we should stop by my kindly cabinmates little boat first?"

Rhi raises her arms in near defeat to Audrin "As she said. She's Dess." Somehow, one gets the impression that Rhi isn't going to be calling her by her full name. "And while she's here, she's working in the laundry, which is why I now have to get Grather some new clothes." She indicated the poor app's predicament and sighs "If you can think of anything that maybe you need doing aboard or something? Oh! " She grins broadly as she remembers some gossip that Audrin wouldn't have gotten yet "And she's living aboard with Benrak."

Jett comes from the dorms after a few minutes, he isn't wet anymore, he's wearing a silver cloak, still into cloaks?
Audrin's eyes near enough pop out of their sockets as the other woman starts attempting to brush grit from her again, "Your daddy?" she repeats needlessly, stepping back away from Dess' grasp, "What -are- you trying to do?"

Dess blinks at Audrin as she steps back, hand paused in midair and her smile still in place, "Hmm? Well yes of course my daddy.. Josef Arthur Cloviant. I'm sure you've heard of him.. He's /quite/ well known. Now stand -still- would you? Goodness me! You're a sight!" Again, the woman follows after, this time trying to slip around behind the Master so she might dust off the back of her. "Not that it matters where /we're/ going.. but really.. wouldn't want to give one of those dreadful men any ideas would we?? They might think you're some common wench in a getup like this.. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to borrow a dress, dear?"

Rhi turns suddenly, chuckling to herself and nearly running out as she calls over her shoulder "Grather, lets go get you some clothes.. quickly"

Audrin throws Grather an odd look, noticing his strange getup for the first time "Ah, can't say I've heard of you Desstra clairvoyant, ah, clovehitch, ah, whatever." She gives the other woman a bemused look, "But I've got a thirst that only one of Hugh's tall stouts can cure." A slightly bemused grin, "So, I'm afraid your fashion tips will have to wait for a while. Care to brave the uncouth rabble or wouldn't daddy like it?" she adds sardonically.

Grather shivers slightly as a draught blows past, and nods enthusiastically at the headwoman, "And one of Hugh's brew that Master Audrin just mentioned!"

Dess sighs in a forlorn way as she picks at a stain, then finally gives up and waves her hands through the air with a gusty sigh, "I suppose there's not much to be done for it, anyhow.. Although, of course, you really should stop by sometime. I've some spare things that would look -level- on you.. and I believe an extra pigment set. You could be -quite- a marvel, dear, you have the right cheeks for it." Running her hands through her hair and patting it back into place, she gives her head a little shake to make certain it's all secured then rolls back her shoulders. "Of course Daddy wouldn't like i--oh.. hmm.." Green eyes glint with a touch of mischief and suddenly she flashes a wide grin at Audrin, "Why no.. no he wouldn't. Shall we?" And off she sweeps after the headwoman, hankie raised in hand once more. "Oh! Wait for us, Rhi --- A lady going into that place /alone/ is just uncouth!"
Audrin rolls her eyes at Dess and purses her lips before continuing her rolling gait towards the Hulk.

You wander over to the The Rusted Hulk.
SeaCraft Hall - The Rusted Hulk
Tilted to one side, this large and comfortable room has been 'evened out' by the addition of a warm wooden floor. Various tall tables with mismatched tall stools are scattered around the room. Glowbaskets line the walls, their subtle lighting casts comfortable shadows throughout the interior of this old vessel. Along the back wall is a small bar with three stools sitting in front of it. Bottles of wine have been placed in deep, dusty cubbyholes behind it.
+View is available.
Contents:
Rhi(#18625PJVce)
Ship Catalog
Obvious exits:
Storage Closet CourtYard
Audrin wanders in.
Audrin has arrived.

Rhi flops over the bar, banging her head on the top of it. Just as he's about to ask what the matter is with her he notices Dess. Without a word, he pours Rhi a mug of whatever he had poured for her the day before during her discussions with the aforementioned new laundress, and pats her arm sympathetically. Nodding her thanks and moving over to a table, she slides into an empty table and sips at the drink with barely a shudder.

Grather wanders in.
Grather has arrived.

Audrin strides over to the bar, not caring if Dess is following her or not and plonks herself down in a seat, "Stout, Hugh!" She bellows in a voice still rough from shouting over the waves.

It's on a fluster of motion that Dess swirls into the Tavern, staying quite clear of anyone who even looks at her oddly.. which is most of those gathered. "Oh dear dear nooo.. Stout? She means wine, of course.. A lady never drinks ale!" She motions at Hugh and takes a seat primly at the bar, sitting there stiffly and giving a snooty look at one sailor who stumbles too close, green eyes flashing a warning. "This.. is /sisal/, sir.. I would -appreciate- it if you'd kindly sit over /there/!" she motions across the room imperiously to a corner table.

A swarthy looking sailor sidles up to Dess, "Sisal you say? Why my boat is carrying fine satin, waiting to be ferried to Nerat." he waggles his eyebrows suggestively, "Care to take a look? I could always spare a little."

"Satin.. you say? Does it /smell/ like you, sir? If not.. I might consider it." Dess peers down her nose at the sailor, brows arched into upside down little v's of quiery. Plucking up the goblet of amber fluid Hugh's brought her, she puts it to her lips without looking at it and takes a small sip.. only to spit it out in a spray a moment later, all down the front of her dress and onto the wagglebrowed fellow beyond. Her face turning beet red, she splutters and choaks, the glass slipping from her hand and crashing to the ground as she pounds one fist against the bar. "What.... was.. /that/?!" she wheezes between coughing fits, eyes watering and smudging her pigment onto her cheeks.

Grather follows quickly in and seats himself on the /other/ side of the master from /that/ woman, and calls out to Hugh, "An ale please." his voice still strained from his earlier attire, but no longer quite so high. His face on the other hand, still wears the pinched look of someone who had a /very/ unpleasant awakening.

A grizzled old seaman sidles up to Dess' other side, eyeing the swarthy sailor. "No, she's mine, I say! I saw 'er first!" Turning to Dess, he doffs his cap and holds it against his chest, leaning close to murmur, "Forget satin. I've lots and lots of pillows. Filled with genuine down."

Hugh goes around dishing out ale to Audrin and Grather and the Master gulps down a large swallow gratefully, "You don't like the local brew?" she asks mildly, frowning ferociously at the male sailors, causing them to give ground a little.

Rhi sits nice and quietly.Rather too quietly for the Headwoman as she sips at her drink "I've an interesting game that a friend of mine taught me if you're interested."

Grather shakes his head, but relaxes visibly after a long pull of the ale. A wry sparkle in his eyes after watching the woman's discomfort at the drink and male attentions.

Dess stares from one sailor to the other, blinking furiously to clear her gaze and giving the last few wheezing splutters to regain her breath. Shoving back fallen locks of hair, she tucks them behind her ears and flattens herself as much as possible against the bar, her rump hanging off the stool entirely as she clings to it with her knees. "I'm -quite- sure I have enough pillows, thank you.. The Headwoman there aided me in making them. And truely, I've a trunk of Satin, so that's all well and good. Now... go on your way. There's good drunkards.. shoo..shoo with you now!" She flutters a shaking hand at the men and swallows hard, hardly noticing Hugh's question.

Jett walks in through the entrance, he's the one called the quiet apprentice but his friends know him as the amazing builder, he heads toward the bar to order some juice.

The grizzled seaman harrumphs loudly at the rebuke, replaces his hat, and marches off to rejoin his drinking companions, muttering loudly, "Now that's a fine piece of flesh who doesn't know how to have a good time..."

Swarthy waggly eyebrows doesn't seem all that bothered or deterred, for all he's had alcohol sprayed all over him. Perhaps he likes that in a woman but does turn his attention to Audrin, who murmurs something in his ear. Blanching, the man makes a rapid escape to the exit.

Audrin laughs a throaty laugh as the sailor makes a hasty departure and gulps at her ale, "If you're wanting to meet any sailors more your own age just let me know..." she comments to Dess. I have quite a few likely lads in my crew.

"P-piece of flesh indeed!" Dess huffs, finally gathering her wits enough to be appropriately offended by the men, pushing herself back onto her stool and scowling after them. "Whatever did you say to him, dear? It seemed to work quite well... I have the feeling I might need to learn such tricks in this.. this /place/! I simply knew I should have taken mummys suggestion and gone to Igen!" She sighs heavily and reaches for her glass.. Which of course isn't there.. and now the frown is turned on Hugh. "Hugh, darling.. that /is/ your name, hmm? Could you be a love and get me a nice wine?" Her attentions returned to Audrin, she gives her an airy wave of dismissal for that idea, "Me? With a crew boy .. thank you no--oooh!" She catches on the other woman's impliment about her age and positively beams, "Oh dear! I'm nearly thirty fi--er... twenty nine turns old! But thank you, dear, you do know how to make one feel appreciated.. it's hard working keeping skin like this." she gives her cheeks a little healthy patpat.

Audrin looks pained but smiles bravely, "I'll take a refill too Hugh." she brandishes her glass and the bartender fills it up. The seacrafter takes a deep draught of her drink before eyeing Dess with a slightly malicious air, "Try not to grip the stool as if your life depended on it, dear." she offers kindly, "You might give the sailors the wrong idea about you."

"Oh!" Dess immediately relinquishes her grip on the stool, crossing one leg neatly over the other and balancing there primly, her hands all aflutter. "I didn't even /realize/ that was taken this way here! Why.. although.. I suppose it wouldn't take /much/ with this lot, hmm?" She crinkles a smile at Hugh as another glass is set before her, this time filled with an almost black liquid, shimmering with faint hues of burgandy. Holding it up to the light, the woman peers through it carefully, clucking her tongue in thought before she brings it down and plants her nose at the bowl of the glass, breathing in the bouquet."Mmm! I think I could take a liking to Tillek's fare, however.. at least they've a good wine going for them." Her eyes slide pleasantly up to Audrin and she gives another one of those perky little smiles, "Now what did you say you do here, dear? I should hope you're not stuck in that laundry lot.. my goodness but they're a ragtag group! All in rags and cackling like a bunch of wherry hens. And the /steam/! Well! That just does /horrors/ to the hair, you know!" Dess babbles on, her leg bouncing gently over the other in time to her words which come out with a
sing-song quality.

"No doubt." Audrin says of the steam, patting her own coarse braids absentmindedly, "I'm a captain." she explains to Dess much in the way someone would speak to a rather backward child, "I sail a ship."

"A captain?!" Dess echo's with no small amount of surprise, tipping her glass away from her face that she can look properly at the other woman. "My my! You alone on a ship full of men?? Although.." her gaze sweeps over Audrin and she chuckles softly, "You -do- look as though you can certainly take care of yourself. How positively delightful! Good for you.. I must say - it's nice to know someone's giving these slack jawed ruffians a little go for their marks!" Tipping back her glass, the 'proper' woman drains half of the goblet full in one lofty gulp.. daubing at her lips with her hankie a moment later. "Mm! Yes yes, rather tasty fare indeed." she murmurs in appreciation.

Grather turns to look darkly at the woman at the mention of laundry, and snorts at her manner, quite thankfully returning to the pot of ale before him.

A rather drunken sailor cuts through the background noise, yelling bawdily, "I'd give you a little go for your marks, wench!"

Sorsha walks up behind Grather an places a hand on his shoulder. "G'd eve Grat" she nods to the other's assembled. Giving a rather cold look to Dess as she slides onto the stool next to her fellow apprentice.

Audrin doesn't pay any attention to the noise around her, instead shaking her head at Dess, "I have a few women in my crew. I have an opening for a good hard worker actually." she casts a speculative eye over Dess' build, "You look like you'd be quite nimble on a deck, given the training."

Jett sips his juice and stretches, must've been a hard day for an 11 turns child, nearly 12 turns in a few clicks (that means minutes right?)

Grather snorts out some ale through his nose as he hears the master's comment, and with a slight cough and a quick wipe of his sleeve, he composes himself and turns at the hand on his shoulder, "Hey Sors." he grins.

"Oh -Truly-??" Dess trills happily, clasping her hands against her chest in delight, eyes sparkling with hope. "Oh /anything/ to get out of that dreaded laundry cavern!! My goodness gracious but I'm /sure/ I can learn whatever there is to know.. I've seen all those little men and women dashing about with ropes in their hands. Doesn't look too difficult at al--" her words cut off as she takes note of the taunt behind her, and this time her pink little face turns dark.. The wine having given her more nerves than before. She's never been up to her fathers standards on holding your liquor, unfortunately, despite her rearing. Pursing her lips, she stares directly at Audrin for a moment more and murmurs, "Show no fear, as you say, hmm then Dear?" And with that she whirls about on her stool and plants her hands on her hips, scowling at the shouter. "With the performance you'd give in a state like that it wouldn't be worth even the smallest pence, I'm certain! Furthermore.. if you smelled anymore fishy I might mistake you for a woman of poor bathing habits, not that the structure of your face doesn't already make it seem the healer that delivered you might have gotten that bit of information confused!" She gives a sniff and a snort.. so there.. take that you ruffian!

Audrin's face flashes from smug to horrified in a split second and then settles on impassive. Draining her glass of stout, the Master rises, as if trying to make a swift getaway. Surely not. "Of course, all my crew have to pass the initiation test of swimming twenty laps of the harbour she adds quickly." and abruptly makes a break for the door.

Sorsha sips her ale and smiles at Grather.

Grather scowls in response to Sorsha, flickering another black look at /that/ woman, "Not very good." he states plainly, his voice still pinched.

Dess slips off of her stool with a haughty little toss of her head, plucking up her wine goblet and draining it dry before pushing it across to Hugh lightly. "Quite delicious, dear.. I'm glad to see you've some classy spirits in this place." Twirling about, she catches Audrin's hasty departure and quirks a brow after the woman, "Strange woman.. Nice. But quite strange, indeed.." she murmurs to herself, heading for the door. Only then does she spot the boy nearby, and she blinks in rapid confusion before flustering over to him. "Good Pity child! What in goodness sakes are you doing in here?! This is -not- a proper establishment for -you-.. now come along, we'll go out and get you a nice glass of juice over in the Hall." She waits expectantly for Jett, giving Hugh an admonishing look as though it's all the 'tenders fault.

Sorsha doesn't even acknowledge the woman who Grat directs his glance to, she rests a free hand on his shoulder and looks at him with concern. "Why...whats wrong?

Jett looks at Dess, "Um...Ma'am, No offense but it is so, unless there's any type of problem, I'm staying"

Dess stares at the child, then gives a shake of her head and throws her hands up in the air, "Even the /children/ in this place are lost! Well! I'll just have to have a talk with the CraftMaster about -this-!" And with that, she flounces from the bar, shoving her way through two sailors and squeaking as her bottom gets a good smacking by one of them. Whirling about, she backs the rest of the way out, scowling and covering her tush with both hands.