The following is a log of roleplay from PernMUSH . The World of Pern(tm)' and 'The Dragonriders of Pern(r)' are copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967. This is a recorded online session, by permission of the author but generated on pernMUSH for the benefit of people unable to attend.

9/23/02

Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern(#750RDJM$)

This huge cavern is sufficiently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in preparation for mealtimes: currently for the evening meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it.

A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.

Kichevio is huddled safely down into her coat as she comes inside, hands jammed into her pockets. "It's nippy outside," she announces to all and sundry. "So say my nips. I'm ready for spring now. Anyone want to move South with me?" Ah, the annual wishful-thinking exodus begins.

Cheni sits by the entry from the bowl and spots Kichevio's entry with a shiver from the cold that comes off the rider. "I'll move with you, I know a nice little beach, just off Boll." She winks over her klah mug. "I think you've heard of it."

Marten wanders out from the deeper caverns, walking slowly and very carefully juggling three smallish rocks.

Kichevio affects wide-eyed innocence. It's quite a sight. "Boll? Why, I _never_ go there. It's a den of iniquity and all. No, I sit at home and knit. Occasionally I bake cookies. I know nothing about beaches near Boll with bars and cute bartenders and vari-colored drinks..." Her protesting too much fades into an interested stare as Marten walks in. "Now that's a useful talent," she comments en route to the klah. "Were you with a Trader caravan before ending up here?"

Cheni coughs slightly as Kichevio speaks and her brow shoots up as the story gets more farfetched. "Uh-huh. Right, it was another greenrider from Telgar with a name very similar to yours that I met at that beach a few months back. Sorry for the mix up" As the rocks are juggled, she holds her breath then asks casually. "Ever hit anyone with one of those?"

"What?" Marten asks, looking over and promptly swearing under his breath as he drops one of the stones and just barely catches the other two. "Um, no. I was just a farmer." He bends over to pick up the rock before looking to Cheni and shrugging. "Just myself."

Kichevio explains things airily to Cheni. "I have an identical cousin, and wacky hi-jinks ensue whenever she's around." Oh, of course, it all makes sense now. She settles into a chair by the hearth, adding a splash of something from a small bottle to her klah. "Juggling farmers. My how times change. My uncle farms, and I think he plowed up his sense of humor Turns ago. Juggling would never have occurred to him."

Cheni giggles but then grins sympathetically. "Probably takes a bit of practise, like any skill, you can only get better?" Kichevio only makes her laugh outright. "Uh-huh and I am utterly corrupted, Kichevio, make sure to tell Corwin that, ever time you get the opportunity." She looks out to the bowl, shivers lightly once more and uncurls herself from her little nest to head for another klah. "Maybe winter, they have to do something so they don't go crazy, if they farm in northlands. You can't exactly plough snow."

Marten shrugs, dropping the stones into a pocket as he moves to sit. "There's always something to do. I sorta taught myself while I was making sure I stayed out of the way of work, though."

"Staying out of the way of work is a good thing," Kichevio agrees quite soberly. "Much better to learn juggling, or see how many rounds of "99 Bottles of Ale on the Wall" you can sing, or lure one of the fieldhands into the hayloft." Not that she's speaking from experience or anything. "Especially in winter. _Anything_ is better than watching the snow fall or picking ice out of the bovines' hooves."

The southern candidate nods in solemn agreement as she licks the icing off the sweet roll she snagged on her way back from the klah pot. "I don't know much about fieldhands in the haylofts but anything is better than anything to do with bovines and herdbeasts, if you ask me. Nasty smelly things. I'd rather see them in a pot then in a stable." She blinks and her eyes widen. "No offense, I mean, Marten, if you have a bovine for a friend back home or anything."

Marten answers Kichevio promptly, "Three hundred and twelve." He smiles, a rather amused curl at the corners of his lips as he raps his knuckles absently on the table. "No bovine friends. Not quite like /that/, at least," he tells the other candidate, holding back a laugh.

Kichevio muffles a snicker in her klah, which leads to some interesting bubbling noises. "I was going to say, you didn't turn pale or murmur sweet nothings to your stew at dinner, so I imagine you weren't too close to your family's bovines." Unwrapping one hand from around her mug, she offers it to Marten. "If we've had the formal introduction, I've forgotten. I'm Kichevio, Saulith's rider. Call me 'ma'am', and receive this klah over your head."

Cheni smirks at Marten. "Well, there are people around here with ducks as friends so who knows? Maybe you have a pet bovine back home named Steak, or something?" Giggling as she sits, she straightens her expression. "She means it, Marten. I've been warned, next time I do so, I'll be packing and running back to Braddle."

Marten informs Kichevio with a smile. "I'm Marten. Just another of the lowly candidates around here, so you'll have to forgive me if I try to show respect to such a well-spoken-of rider." He continues to grin broadly as he winks to the rider and drums his knuckles on the table again. "We'd all suffer from the loss," he comments to Cheni.

Cheni restrains herself from sticking out her tongue at the rogue. "You just want my cot spot, own up to it. I was one of the first searched and I was able to find a nice peaceful little home in the corner way back there."

"I'm well spoken of?" This information seems to fascinate Kichevio. "How did that happen? I must be losing my touch." Chuckling, she sips her klah. "We won't let you go, Cheni. You're proving too useful, and besides, we've corrupted you. Braddle would be too boring for you now. I think you're stuck here. Marten will just have to steal someone else's cot."

Marten snaps his fingers in frustration. "Well, yours was only my second choice, at least. On the bright side, mine smells pretty good."

Cheni definitely sticks out her tongue this time. "My cot does -not- stink, thank you very much indeed." She huffs and tosses her hair back over her shoulder. "I bathed, a sevenday past last sevenday, I'm sure of it." She does tap her mug, however. "I've promised the lord holder at Braddle, if I don't impress that'll I'll return home, although, he's not so insistent for me to try to get the eggs to hatch faster, so maybe he's found someone to haul his as.. err self around."

Kichevio snorts, her opinion of Braddle's Holder being what it is. "He should hope that you Impress," she says dryly. "Then you'll have a dragon that will have no trouble hauling his...self...around. Granted, your dragon might choose to do that hauling with talons or fangs rather than the old-fashioned way of riding, but..." She shrugs. "Be easier on _you_."

"No, no, not yours," Marten rushes to assure Cheni. "It's just that little fella next to you. Or is it two cots over? Anyway, him. I think he leaves his cot damp half the mornings." He grins another of those slightly mocking grins and drums his fingers on the table again.

Cheni looks very innocent, perhaps a tad too innocent as she carefully licks off all the sweetener from her fingertips. "Yes.." She murmurs. "The poor lad. Terrible problem he has.." After a moments thought, she smiles over to Kichevio. "Well, yes, but if I impress, Braddle is not in Telgar's coverage. The poor man would be left to his usual fits of need as he approaches the watchriders sent down by Fort."

Kichevio grins. It is an Evil grin. "I have a couple of friends at Fort who could give him a ride he'd never forget. Ever been on a dragon doing a loop-the-loop?"

Cheni shakes her head. "Afraid not and knowing the Holder's girth, he'd break the poor dragon's back, the first flip, unfortunately. I heard Braddle's getting a bit of corrupting on it's own right now." She smirks. "Seems my older brother married that bar wench and brought her home three days before the arranged marriage my parents had set in place for him."

Kichevio sets her mug down to applaud briefly. "Good for him. If one must marry, best to marry someone fun like a bar wench. Keeps life interesting. Oh, and Saulith says there's not a human alive that could break her back, and if she thought he would, she'd drop him." Another wicked smile. "Care to test her on that? I think I have passenger duty next sevenday."

Cheni giggles. "I'd love to be there to watch but not sure I'd like to be the one to clean up the mess. And the Candidate Coordinators have this annoying habit of wanting to make sure all their charges are safe and sound within the weyr. It would be worth it, though, just to see his reaction." She grins. "Well, as I will be an aunt in about four or five months time, it was a good thing."

Kichevio smiles. "Your brother wastes no time, I see," she notes. "Well, I'll keep my ears open in case the Lord of Braddle needs a lift to anywhere-or-other. Might be fun to see how strong my straps really are..."

"No sense risking that arranged marriage more than he has to," Marten points out with an approving nod.

Cheni rubs her chin thoughtfully, her eyes alight with ironic humour. "Well, timing might be his trouble. Most babes come after the marriage around Braddle, or that's how the birth records show it." She hmms. "Well, I do know that he'll probably want to come and watch me fall flat on my face on the sands, and I suppose someone would have to bring him here."

Kichevio rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "You're not going to fall on your face," she assures Cheni. "That's why the Weyrlingmasters have you hold hands out there, so you have a support system. Occasionally someone faints, and Igen Hatchings tend to have at least one bloody wounding, but Telgar Hatchings are generally uneventful."

Marten looks over, his expression almost one of disappointment. "No woundings? You sure? I mean, I could tell you which of the candidates really deserve it."

Cheni chuckles dryly. "I meant that in the poetic sense, as in going home with egg on my face rather than a shell fragment in hand and a lifemate to snuggle up to that night." Her eyes widen huge as Marten comments. "Shells, I'm not that bad am I, I mean, it was just warm water and his hand in it, and all.."

Kichevio barely manages to swallow her klah before laughing. "Cheni, you're _bad_!" she protests between snickers. "You'll make a marvelous greenrider, wait and see. That even tops when Teye and Kiharu made Parme think an egg was talking to him during an egg-touching, and he fainted right at Chezroth's feet. Forefeet. Whatever."

Marten eyes Cheni thoughtfully. "Remind me never to go to sleep when you're still up and about, will you?" He chuckles as he looks back to the greenrider. "What'd they have it say to him?"

Cheni wrinkles her nose. "I am beyond fainting but I do wish we didn't have to touch the eggs with those growly dragons around. I've been around new mothers and they can be very difficult. And the gold is a lovely dragon, I am sure but she's probably difficult to a much larger degree, giving her size and all." She coughs and smiles sweetly to Marten. "I'm good at singing lullabies. Or I can tell you all about Braddle and you'll be sleeping sweetly and you'll never know what hit you."

Kichevio lowers her voice to a vaguely spooky tone in response to Marten. "'How dare you touch me? When I hatch, I shall find you and rend you limb from limb!'." She rolls her eyes. "So poor Parme fainted, and Teye and Kiharu nearly inhaled half the sands they were laughing so hard. And, to put the final touch on it, that was the egg that Parme's green Fainth hatched out of. She had to ask him why he was running away from her before he realized he'd Impressed her. And then--surprise, surprise--he fainted."

Marten barks out a sharp laugh, shaking his head slowly. "Oh, that's great. Man, I wish I'd thought of that one." He continues to laugh softly, a dangerously thoughtful look on his face.

Cheni blinks and considers, then reconsiders, shaking her head. "Well, that's one approach to impressing, I suppose. I hope I just stand upright, don't knock my knees together too much, don't sew my robe too short so I don't show more of me than needs to be shown from the back ..I can't even hope about impressing." She frowns, lost in her own insecurities for a brief moment, a very brief one indeed, until Marten's own thoughtful expression gets her interest. "Thinking of a victim are we?"

Kichevio lifts an eyebrow. "And why can't you hope of Impressing?" she asks Cheni curiously. "You got Searched, didn't you? That's more than nine-tenths of Pern ever gets."

Marten just shrugs innocently, not willing to say more on the subject. "Well, compared to most of that lot back there I'd say you've got almost as good a chance as I do."

Cheni shrugs. "Exactly, the odds are stacked against me. I said yes, that I'd stand, more for the adventure of getting away from Braddle than anything else.. If I impress, I'll be delighted, overjoyed, honoured and absolutely flabbergasted that any dragon would be so dense as to pick me.. but this?" She waves around the cavern. "Is worth it, just being here."

Kichevio raises one hand and wriggles her fingers, smiling crookedly. "You're speaking to a runaway from a beasthold, a former unofficial seamstress, and someone who nearly got kicked out of Candidacy for breaking one of its cardinal rules. And here I sit, a greenrider. If _I_ can Impress, _anyone_ can. Don't sell yourself short, either of you."

Cheni can't help but ask the question on her lips. "Which cardinal rule was that?"

Marten shrugs again, smiling broadly. "Hey, I know I'm gonna impress. I mean, have you met the other candidates?" He also looks a little curious about the rule.

Kichevio sighs and looks penitent. Mostly. It's been Turns. But she tries. "Several of us Candidates went on a supervised trip to Shipfish. I assumed it was all right to stay late as long as a rider was around to get me back to the Weyr. The fact that the rider that stayed was a former lover of mine--that was a problem. Nothing happened, but we were gone all night anyway, and the Weyrleaders were understandably annoyed. So I got kitchen duty for a month, probation until the Hatching, and three separate lectures." She shrugs, rueful. "Unfair at the time, but I see the reasoning behind it now."

Cheni grins as the story proves to be as good as she thought it might be. "You didn't! What happened to the rider? I mean, he .." She hesitates. "She? I mean, the person involved should have been punished as well but how romantic. Out on the beach all by your lonesome, overnight."

Marten just tips his head to the side, listening with obvious interest.

"He," Kichevio says with a little smile. "Oh, he got in trouble too--he was from another Weyr, but Candidate restrictions are the same the continent over. I only saw him a handful of times between that night and my graduation from weyrling training, he was so afraid he'd be accused of corrupting me again." She has to chuckle at that. "It was romantic, I must admit, but having dishpan hands for the next month really makes you question the value of romance versus the price you sometimes must pay."

Marten chuckles to himself, apparently at the thought of Kichevio being corrupted. "So you two ever get together afterwards, or was that pretty much it?"

Cheni sighs heavily as she shrugs philosophically. "Well, perhaps it is a good thing I don't know much about romancing.." She says as an aside to Marten. "even though I am corrupted, Please don't forget to tell Corwin that, the next time you see him." Grinning over at Kichevio, she chuckles. "I wonder who was doing the corrupting, if I might be so bold?"

Kichevio shakes her head. "You'd never have known him. He was a brownrider at Igen. And we were never weyrmates, but we were friends-with-benefits until the day he died." She pauses to reckon up the time. "Almost seven Turns ago now." Her smile is a little wistful, but still definitely a smile. "He always said it was worth the wait."

Marten laughs again, grinning as he gets to his feet. "I bet," he remarks as he stretches. "Anyway, I'm supposed to be in the kitchens soon. Nice talking to you."

Kichevio snaps out of her half-reverie long enough to smile and wave at Marten. "Good luck, and nice talking to you too. Be careful if you decide to juggle the plates."

Cheni shakes her head as she rises to her feet. "I'm afraid I don't know any Igen riders by name, only been there once myself." Her smiles sympathetically. "But I'm glad you have warm memories of your friend, he sounds like a nice young man." Spinning a romantic tale in her mind, she takes her mug to the dish bin. "I've got to go find an assistant Headwoman myself, I need to find some warmer boots."

"I'll remember that," Marten tells Kichevio as he starts to wander off, thought not in the direction of the kitchens.

Kichevio's smile quirks up again at something Cheni said, but she just nods. "See if you can snag a pair with the fur lining. That helps amazingly when the wading-through-snowdrifts time starts. And make sure they're at least thigh-high."

Cheni chuckles. "Thigh-high, huh?"

You walk towards the inner cavern.



*** Disconnected from PernMUSH ***

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