This Hall rises in two open levels. High above the structure's center, a broad-beamed ceiling supports the slate-shingled roof. Carved wood from four massive trees provide pillars that are both functional and decorative. Bounding the entire open chamber is an upper tier with wide stairs affording access from the lower level.
The lower tier is arranged in grand style. Various tapestries adorn the lower walls, and tables, benches, and chairs are placed all about, allowing the entire Weyr's population to gather here. Built into the west wall, a large stone hearth houses a small fire that warms klah and some foods. Across the room, between the eastern pair of pillars, a large table stands laden with pitchers of juice and trays of food. Sitting next to the table are two casks of wine; one marked red, and stamped with a badge indicating it is from the vineyards of the North's Benden Hold, and the other, white with markings indicating origin in the newly-favored regions of the South upriver from the Paradise holding. Above the hearth is a large plaque upon which the symbol of Monaco Weyr, a particolored field of blue above white featuring a leaping dolphin, is emblazoned.
Valenti is taking a quick moment to consume mass quantities of food and juice both, and looking rather chagrined, as her eyes follow a tiny baby of a brown firelizard.
Elfarran walks in, moving slowly, and gets herself a glass of juice and a plate of food, paying little attention to what she is taking, before making her way over and sitting down at a table.
Valenti casts a look aside, ruefully, and lifts her cup in greeting. "Heya, Elf." The little brown continues to snatch food at will.
Elfarran smiles, though it seems almost forced, "Hello, Val, settling in alright?" She starts picking at her food, staring at the plate as if it isn't even there.
Valenti blinks a little, and chuckles. "It's easy to settle in when one is used to a hard bedroll on the road."
With a slow nod, Elfarran looks up again, "I imagine so. I've had to do a little bit of camping out when gathering herbs."
"Which is, incidentally, my chore for the day." Val shakes her head. "Not that I know a sharding thing about herbs."
Elfarran smiles, a bit more warmly, for a moment, at least, "It isn't that difficult, really. If I could, I'd trade. I get to clean the kitchen."
Valenti pauses a moment. "You /get/ to? Personally, I'm a lot more happy tramping about the jungle."
Elfarran nods and goes back to picking at her food, "I am a hazard in the kitchen." An over exagerration, perhaps, but she seems to think so. A few bites of food make it into her mouth, before she sips some juice.
Valenti chuckles. "I'm not, but I certainly don't enjoy cooking."
Elfarran takes a few more bites of food, then drinks a bit more food before answering, "I don't mind it, its just not something I'm very good at. I've not had a lot of practice."
Valenti grins. "I have, but... Well, I'm better at making sure the ovens are at the right temperature than at coming up with creative cookery."
Valenti rises with reluctance, calling her pet to her. "In any case, I've got to get to those herbs. I'll see ya later, Elf."
Elfarran nods to her fellow candidate, then goes back to picking at her food.
Elfarran is sitting at a table, picking at a plate of food, occassionally taking a sip from her juice glass. She looks tired, or perhaps more accurately, moody.
Looking quite dazed, S'renn slips into the weyrhall as silently as his boots and cloth clothing will let him. He heads directly towards the serving trays where from there he stares, down at the food, still quite dazed for some reason or another, or maybe trying to find which of the edibles the Candidates didn't cook.
Elfarran looks up, smiling in a manner totally unlike her normal cheerful self, "Hello, S'renn. It shouldn't actually be poisonous, though I can't say how tasty the food is today."
Having not expected to hear anyones voice, S'renn snaps out from his daze with a quick snap-back of his head, eyes darting upon the Candidate, blinking several times, before he turns himself fully around, attempting to regain his composure with a light smile. "If it isn't poisonous, then whichever Candidate was in the kitchens today actually did a good job," he drawls, managing to pull up some of his humor.
Elfarran shakes her head, almost giggling, "I'm afraid not. I'm a horrible cook." She narrows her eyes though, looking a bit more alert, "What's wrong?"
"Well think of it this way," S'renn says, turning back around to the food set out on the trays and uses a fork to lift up one of slices of wherry-meat, "Its not half as bad as the charcoal bits that I used to cook up as a Candidate, if you remember." He lets out a light chuckle despite himself, before beginning to shake his head, though he doesn't turn back around to face Elfarran, "Nothings wrong... Just not completely right."
Elfarran nods and smiles a bit, "If you need someone to talk to, I'm right here." She actually takes a bite of her food, trying to look more her old self.
S'renn continues on with shaking his head as he begins to prepare a plate out for himself, mostly fruit and some breakfast meat. "You probably have enough to worry about without having to hear my problems," he comments, glancing back over his shoulder at the Candidate.
Elfarran actually laughs softly, "Consider it a favor. Something to distract me from my problems, which I could really use." She sips her juice, looking over the glass, "Besides, its what friends do, isn't it?"
S'renn arches a skeptical eyebrow at the Candidate's offer, yet after grabbing himself a glass of reddish colored juice, begins to make his way off towards her table. "Are you sure you really want to hear this?.." He inquires once up beside the table, already in the process of setting his plate down.
Elfarran nods and smiles a bit, "Why wouldn't I?" She makes a bit more room, "Unless you are going tell me that you have some illness that will kill you in six months."
S'renn settles himself down upon the chair with an almost silent 'thanks' to the candidate, and with a light chuckle, he rolls his jaded-silver eyes, "No.. But someone will most probably will kill me in nine months."
"Congratulations, but wouldn't that be eight months?" Elfarran sighs softly, "Who is the lucky person?"
"A bluerider, from Fort," S'renn mutters lightly as he pokes a fork at the meat upon his plate, "You probably don't know her."
Elfarran nods slowly, "You don't look very happy, for someone going to be a father." She picks at her food again, "So, it wasn't from a flight, then. She must be really special."
S'renn stabs at a piece of meat with his fork, only to lift it up slightly from his plate to basically stare at it. "Yes... she is.. very special to me.. Yet," slowly he begins to shake his head, and emits a light sigh while he lets the meat slip off from his fork, "Shes weyrmated..."
Elfarran nods slowly and looks up, her eyes filled with understanding, "It will work out, somehow. It usually does." She doesn't mention that working out and working out the way you want are two different things, though.
S'renn emits a light sigh, while beginning to stab at that poor piece of meat until it is thoroughly smashed, "I sure hope so... I had honestly thought that her weyrmate was going to..." he shakes his head, tossing the idea from his mind, "Nevermind."
Elfarran blinks slowly, "Going to what, Larenn?"
