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.

10/1/02

Logfile from pernMUSH.

Distant Cavern(#7541Je)

The entrance to this distant cavern in the back corridors of the weyr causes many a taller person to stoop. This narrow entrance is deceiving, however, for the cavern gradually expands in volume until the light from the fire and curls of smoke are absorbed by the darkness extending up towards the domed ceiling. The musty odor that tickles the nostrils suggests that this cavern has been long forgotten, even by the oldest of aunties. This is accompanied by a dankness that blankets the extremities in a subtle chill. Barely visible in the sparse glow and firelight, the walls of the cavern appear to have been partially hewn by the original weyr architects. A faint but steady sound of trickling water emanates from the far wall, perhaps a clue as to cavern abandonment. The glowlight glitters off a natural formation on the far wall revealing a single, magnificent stalactite that is both the conduit and product of the trickling water.

Though the floor of this cavern appears to have been swept recently, the lower recesses house gossamer spinner webs that waver in the light, cavern draft. A few, scattered bunches of dried lavender attempt to mask the musty air.

Contents:

Copious Chaotic Comestibles(#7542)

Candidates walk into the cavern, a few with glowlight holders in hand, all with blankets tucked in under an arm. They spread out within the room, keeping close to the fire, basking in its warmth and the companionship of their barrack mates. A few solitary types find the company of the walls more of their liking and disappear into the shadows.

Ryklin hauls in another huge bedroll and grins at Cheni. "That's the last of 'em I think. Some of those littler candidates are just plain worn out from their regular chores.

Cheni drops her bedroll and pillow near the fire, keeping them rolled up for now, then crouches to poke around the food. She drops a couple of pieces of fruit on the growing pile of foodstuffs. "Hey, Ryklin. I figure the stable workers will be trooping in -after- a bath. I heard tell they were going to stop them and sniff before they let them down here."

A cheery crackle emanates from the fire, burning brightly against the stone walls.

Ryklin grins wryly at that, and gives forth a low chuckle. "I can't say I blame 'em. Not so much that it ain't such a bad smell... but in close quarters..." He greets a few of his fellows warmly, handclasps and male joviality before they move on to find their own spots about the fire. "So I guess this is where we get to lie back and enjoy it?" and he winks.

Cheni shrugs as she reaches for a mug and a waterskin. "Enjoy it? That's one way of putting it but I did finally catch the name of one of the candidates, Alonna, I think her name is, the one near the front of the barracks. She arrived late, got stuck with the cot everyone bumps on their way to their own."

Protesting his innocence loudly, the rotund candidate from Telgar Hall mutters as his nearest companions pull out four bubblies, a sandwich and a sweetroll from his pockets and add their find to the growing pile of supplies.

Candidates walk into the cavern, a few with glowlight holders in hand, all with blankets tucked in under an arm. They spread out within the room, keeping close to the fire, basking in its warmth and the companionship of their barrack mates. A few solitary types find the company of the walls more of their liking and disappear into the shadows.

A cheery crackle emanates from the fire, burning brightly against the stone walls.

Protesting his innocence loudly, the rotund candidate from Telgar Hall mutters as his nearest companions pull out four bubblies, a sandwich and a sweetroll from his pockets and add their find to the growing pile of supplies.

Sharp ears might hear slithering sounds along the far wall of the cavern. Even the dullest of ears would definitely hear the squeals of timid Zustrale who jumps into the lap of her older cousin, Jaranke.

A delicate sniff from a Holder's youngest daughter gives evidence to her disapproval of her accommodations. She rolls out a blanket and sits primly with her hands in her lap, her only contribution to the proceedings are disapproving tsks and looks as the evening progresses.

The wood seems to melt beneath the consuming fire, crackling sounds marking the quick burn of the dried wood.

Formerly a Harpers apprentice, a tall young girl lifts pipes to her lips and plays softly in the background. Only missing an occasional note, she smiles smugly as she works through a complicated fingering sequence. A rogue critic pelts her with the peelings from an orangefruit.

Two split logs burn down and collapse into one another, giving rise to a loud POP.

Two young candidates throw kindling onto the fire as it starts to burn lower, making the flames leap up again, releasing heat in a sudden wave and a straight waft of smoke drifts lazily into an unseen opening in the ceiling of the immense cavern, clearing the room of all smoke.

A candidate known for his tattling ways is quickly distracted from watching the corner where there is definitely something afoot. A couple of blankets mysteriously disappear and much giggling and hushed whispers sabotage any hopes of a stealth attack.

Someone turns over a few of the logs, dredging up crackles, hisses and sputters from the depths of the fire.

Despite being indoors, a breeze from the inner caverns sends smoke drifting at an angle as it curves up along a wall.

As the fire burns, two candidates from Fort haul over smaller pieces of wood and set them next to the fire, placing them on the bed of stones.

A shimmering heat rises from the fire, swaying only a little.

Two inner cavern workers drop off extra blankets by the entrance and scurry away, not about to be drawn in by innocent glances by scheming candidates.

Despite the heat, a breeze brings a hint of cold that slips a chill into the cavern.

A trio of candidates come racing in, giggling secretively as they approach the light of the fire. Up to no good, they edge their way around the outside of the circle, then dart away in to the shadows.

Rustling through a bag, a candidate chuckles as she brings out a secret stash of lopsided doughdots, slightly burned but still edible. She adds them to the camp out provisions with the flair and pride of a MasterBaker

Pale faces reflect the glowing warmth of the flame and slightly chilled fingers are drawn to its comfort.

A light chill is quickly chased away as the room fills with candidates.

An errant breeze rushes through the cavern causing the flames to flicker eerily.

A firelizard whizzes by so quickly that most could not identify him. On his way back through the cavern, he snatches a sock and races off, chittering with mischief.

Hot Istan peppers "somehow" found their way into the snooty Holder daughter's meatroll. Her whines and tears are soothed away by a fellow candidate who looks around for culprits, all the while blowing the girl's nose with a not so clean hanky.

Someone tosses another piece of wood on the fire, eliciting a rapid crackling as wood breaks under the sudden pressure, the fire burning hotter and higher into the air.

Laughter erupts from near the provisions and with a crack, the fire shoots up to show the blushing, glowering face of a candidate who holds up a handful of deformed, pathetic looking meatrolls. "Hey, they are still edible and the cook said they were good enough for us to eat but not good enough for the serving table."

New wood shavings and end pieces of work projects from the Woodsmith's shop are brought in, a gift to the candidates and a handy way to get rid of scraps.

A sudden resurgence of giggles from a darkened corner marks young girls taking advantage of the shadows to surreptitiously scheme, preparing to launch a surprise attack.

Klah mugs clink as overbrewed klah is served from a pot that simmers on the embers of the fire.

Someone prods the wood with a stick, garnering a healthy pop from the fire.

A high-pitched squeal causes those around the two cousins to laugh, Jaranke chuckles sheepishly. "Sorry, I thought it was a tunnelsnake."

A chorus of "not now!" rises forth in unison as an industrious candidate pulls out her robe and thread, hoping to get some sewing done. Her robe is whisked away and needle and thread is exchanged for a mug of klah and a sweetroll.

The chill of the air fades away beneath the heat of the fire, disturbed by neither entering riders nor caverns beyond.

Pranksters are foiled as their string is snatched away by a disapproving chaperone.

The fire nearly dies down until a quick thinking candidate kneels, blowing on the embers and adding new kindling.

With a dull thud, a taller candidate hits his head as he fails to duck as he walks too close to the rounded walls of the cavern. He laughs and waves off any concern, chagrined by his lack of attention.

Baskets with glowlights are placed in darkened corners, not providing a lot of light but helping candidates from tripping over each other as they set out their blankets and gear.

A spinner dangles dangerously close to the flames, a daredevil, as it bounces up and down its thread. An inch too close and a plop is heard as its safety line snaps, quickly followed by a sizzle.

Two of the youngest candidates valiantly try to keep awake but the darkness of the cavern combined with the hypnotic crackle of the fire cause them to drift off, one by one.

The crackling of the wood is laced with a sudden punctuation of three pops, two loud and one soft.

The distant click of heels against the stone floor comes closer, stops, then.

Ryklin grins and calls out a "Ladies" to some of the girls in greeting, and chuckles. "Did anyone bring in some of that Benden Baklava?" he says, watching the raid on old Tubby. "Just don't make me sing."

Candidates walk into the cavern, a few with glowlight holders in hand, all with blankets tucked in under an arm. They spread out within the room, keeping close to the fire, basking in its warmth and the companionship of their barrack mates. A few solitary types find the company of the walls more of their liking and disappear into the shadows.

Cheni hmms. "I don't know, go have a peek, Ryklin. The only goodies out there are stuff people found around here. I brought along a couple of apples and that's about it." She pours out a mug of water, then sets the waterskin back against the wall.

Ryklin smiles, and adds a packet of dried wherry to the pile. Returning he adds. "Hey, it ain't much, but if it keeps away the growly things..." and he waves over at Shawnah. "Evening m'ilady."

Shawnah hurries into the caverns just behind the group of candidates, squinting into the dim lighting. And then there's something else dripping water - though that would be her, dripping from short hair and skirt. "Brr.." she murmurs, and then glances around, "Wow.. I think this is the first time I've braved the caverns without getting hopelessly lost.."

A cheery crackle emanates from the fire, burning brightly against the stone walls.

Cheni waves over from her spot near the fire. "Come and dry off, what happened to you? Get tossed in the steam bath by a playful dragon or something?" She grins. "The map that they gave us helped, so did the fact that I got Stunning to lead me in. So I cheated."

Protesting his innocence loudly, the rotund candidate from Telgar Hall mutters as his nearest companions pull out four bubblies, a sandwich and a sweetroll from his pockets and add their find to the growing pile of supplies.

Shawnah makes her way to the fire, plopping down before it with a relieved sigh. "Something like that." she answers Cheni with a chuckle. "And my 'lizards always seem to disappear every time I end up there. Prolly sidetracked by a tunnelsnake or something.." A beam and a wiggle-fingers wave is then offered for Ryklin, and she tilts her head toward him, "Anything good brought in over there?"

Ryklin smiles. "A little bit. Oh that reminds me." and he pats at his pockets again, and stalks back over to the table to deposit another parcel there. Returning he explains simply. "Got K'thran to send me some more of Dendra's dough dots."

Cheni ohs. "Doughdots, from Dendra? I had some of those when I was at Igen. They sure are a lot nicer than the ones I got from that new pastry baker apprentice." Sitting cross-legged now, she watches a candidate stir the embers under the klah pot. "We got here at least and it's sort of cool down here, who knows how long anyone has actually used this room?"

"Dough dots..?" Shawnah asks, sending a curious glance at the slowly growing pile of food. "Wassat?" she stands, and edges her way by a couple of hungry candidates until she's reached the food.

Ryklin grins. "They can't get enough of 'em over at Igen. Sorta like fried dough, with sweetener covering it.

Cheni grins. "Powdery Sweetener, and the dough is really fluffy and airy. I heard tell that they have ones that are filled with jam too."

Sharp ears might hear slithering sounds along the far wall of the cavern. Even the dullest of ears would definitely hear the squeals of timid Zustrale who jumps into the lap of her older cousin, Jaranke.

Shawnah quirks a brow, and then snags a couple of said 'dough dots', "Don't have to tell me 'something sweet' more than once." she says, and pops one in her mouth. Eyes widening slightly, she grins. "Not bad!" she grabs a plate then, putting a bit of actual food on it, and returns to her seat by the fire, pausing to eye first the far wall of the cavern and then the squealing candidate before she just shakes her head and sits down.

Ryklin pauses to chat with some candidates the next bedroll over... the words are quiet, until they reach a crescendo "...Heart of a greenrider, iddy bidddy bluerider brain, huge brownrider inferiority complex and massive bronzerider ego and that Goldrider Deity-Complex!" before they all burst out cackling with laughter

Cheni peeks over her shoulder to see what the squealing is all about. She rolls her eyes as she realizes it's once again the squealer of the barracks. With a snort, she turns back to the flickering fire. "Some people really do need to get a grip, if they are afraid of a tunnelsnake wonder how they will be on the sands?" Laughing, she almost spurts out her sip of water. "Ryklin, don't tell me you believe that stuff?"

Ryklin looks over his shoulder. "What stuff's that Cheni?"

Shawnah eyes Ryklin's group sideways, grinning. "Sounds like you're talking about A'lex or S'dar?" she asks, jokingly, really!

More good natured slapping and joking about is done, before Ryk saunters back over to the girls. "Aw heck, it's just something that folks joke about round here." he notes, winking at Shawnah's reply.

A delicate sniff from a Holder's youngest daughter gives evidence to her disapproval of her accommodations. She rolls out a blanket and sits primly with her hands in her lap, her only contribution to the proceedings are disapproving tsks and looks as the evening progresses.

Cheni giggles. "I know, I know but I guess I've hardly met any riders that fit that stereotype that is painted on them because of their dragon. Well, then again, I've only met Kindre and Tarien. I don't think I've seen the Senior Goldrider from anywhere but a distance so I can't say what she's like."

Shawnah chuckles around a mouthful of food. "Well.. some of the riders do fit a stereotype." she admits, and then shrugs, "But never /all/ of the stereotypes.. but then, doesn't everyone fit into some type of one?" she shoots the Holder 'royalty' a glance at that, and perks suddenly, "Speaking of which! I wonder if Kassima will show up any time tonight to tell that story of Slithereth.." how that had /anything/ to do with the subject is anyone's guess.

Ryklin chuckles. "Ayup, something like that." he says, settling onto his bedroll..

Cheni darts a quick look to the prissy one and giggles, lowering her voice. "Well, but I said -riders- not holder children. And really? I have always rebelled at fitting into one category or another. I feel like I'm in a box when people peg me as a certain type." She pulls out a piece of her robe to baste along the seam. If she actually works on it is another matter, as the needle and thread have yet to make an appearance. "Kassima? I love the way she talks, I've never heard her tell a tale though. I can imagine it'd be good."

The wood seems to melt beneath the consuming fire, crackling sounds marking the quick burn of the dried wood.

Shawnah laughs, rolling her eyes. "I always have, too.. and discovered that in doing that I fit into a stereotype too." she grins, "Not that I'll /change/ because of that, but.." she shrugs, and then nods, "Oh, Kassi is /the/ best story teller! She's got one about buttless pants, too.. and buttery pants." clearing her throat suddenly, she tilts her head at Cheni's robe, "Y'know, I didn't need to repair or make a robe for myself last time. Wasn't someone supposed to bring in some of the old ones?"

Cheni nods as she inspects her previous work on her robe. With a wry chuckle at her own ineptness, she grins. "I think so, L'han mentioned something about a box around here somewhere, I don't see it though. I am not a seamstress. Then I'sai started talking about if I impressed I'd be stuck sewing straps day in day out, almost made me catch a ride with the watchrider back down to Braddle." Pausing, she looks across to Shawnah. "Buttless pants? What is the practicality of those? They'd chafe wouldn't they?"

Formerly a Harpers apprentice, a tall young girl lifts pipes to her lips and plays softly in the background. Only missing an occasional note, she smiles smugly as she works through a complicated fingering sequence. A rogue critic pelts her with the peelings from an orangefruit.

Shawnah snickers, "Sewing straps and cutting meat, and all /sorts/ of.. fun stuff. As for the buttless pants..." she wrinkles her nose, "I try not to think about too much." with that, she stands up, and squints around the room, "I think I remember seeing a box near the entrance.. Be right back." and with that, she hurries out.

Shawnah has left.

Ryklin chuckles at that, and pauses to listen in to the Harper lass' music.

Cheni hmms. "She's improving, you got to say that for her. I'm getting a tad tired of that same melody again and gain though, She's on my work detail." She finally decides to take out the needle and thread. "You going to borrow a robe from one of your rider friends at Igen?"

Ryklin blinks, distracted. "Oh yeah, we're all awful at some things to begin with.. some of us more awful than others. I ah, sorta bought mine with me." he notes, of his robe.

Cheni grins. "I was always relegated to the triangle in Harper's classes. I'm afraid I've got not much a voice to sing and never had the patience for learning an instrument. You stood before?" She shakes her head. "I never knew that. Where?"

Ryklin nods. "At Igen Weyr." he adds a grin and a wave ion Dakota's direction as he talks.

Dakota hasn't much problems with the low entrance way, she's sorta short herself. A bedroll is one hand and a meatroll in the other. A smile is given to the other candidates in here.

Cheni notices Dakota as she approaches the center of the cavern and waves. "Hey there, finished duties?" She lazily makes a half hearted stab at her robe with a needle. "Igen, huh. And you stayed on there after the hatching, then?"

Two split logs burn down and collapse into one another, giving rise to a loud POP.

Dakota finishes the meatroll in several bites, freeing up that second hand to lay out her bedroll near Cheni. Sitting down cross-legged, she smiles towards Cheni. "Yup, all done. Got to help some of the other crafters today." she quiets to hear Ryklin's answer.

Two young candidates throw kindling onto the fire as it starts to burn lower, making the flames leap up again, releasing heat in a sudden wave and a straight waft of smoke drifts lazily into an unseen opening in the ceiling of the immense cavern, clearing the room of all smoke.

Ryklin grins. "What did you get lumbered with today folks?"

Cheni quirks a brow as Ryklin doesn't answer her question. She murmurs. "I guess you don't want to talk about it then?" She shrugs. "Me? Running errands, mostly for the Aunties. I swear, I was getting lost every time I turned around. I'm amazed that I made it in here." Setting her sewing down with a disgruntled frown, she looks about the cavern. "This room is huge, wonder if there is anything else around here besides what we think is in here?"

Dakota watches the fire idly, listening to the soothing sound of chatter amongst some of the candidates. "Oh, I was assisting crafters today, got a break from the kitchen." the candidate grins.

A candidate known for his tattling ways is quickly distracted from watching the corner where there is definitely something afoot. A couple of blankets mysteriously disappear and much giggling and hushed whispers sabotage any hopes of a stealth attack.

Ryklin was watching some shenanigans of a group over the far side of the fire, before he turns and replies to Cheni. "Oh nothing like that. Some pretty amazing people actually. It was hard watching some of 'em get left standing, and even harder making the choice to come back home. But I'd said my goodbyes. One of the girls there got pretty badly gored when she didn't move fast enough. Gotta keep your wits about you you know."

Ryklin shenenagins maybe even...

Dakota winces slightly as she catches most of Ryklin's comments. She's not observant enough to catch sight of the tactics from the corner. "You were a candidate before then?" asks Dakota of Ryklin before she turns her next comment to Cheni. "It does seem huge in here." she comments. "Anything or anyone maybe?" she asks slyly.

Cheni clutches her pillow a bit closer to her side looking warily out into the shadows. "I don't like the sound of that over there. We could go investigate." She says a little louder. "Funny how pranks always seem to get the pranksters in more hot water than much else." She sniffs lightly, then turns back to Dakota. “So what were you doing for the crafters?" She'd rather not think about the goring, but even if she doesn't acknowledge the comment in words, she visibly winces."

A quick shake of Ryklin's head as he denies the question. "No, not me, my brother was the one who got lucky enough to get searched before me... several times even." he shrugs, not too put out by the whole affair actually.

Ryklin grins lazily in Bianca's direction. And offers a wave as well.

"And someone got gored?" asks the ever curious Dakota to Ryklin. "Helped the weaver sort out her commissions, read through some hides for the older Smithcrafter. His eyes are getting bad. Twas really easy work." she grins. Easier than some of the chores, such as Firestone bagging. "Oh, pranks can be fun though most people don't know the proper way to prank." she remarks airily.

Ryklin frowns slightly at that. "Yes, a good friend." he notes terely.

Ryklin tersely even

Bianca ventures into the cavern long about now, ducking low and thus well clear of the low archway, which she casts a cautious look upward at as she passes beneath. Whatever suspicions she may have cast thereon are forgotten, though, in favour of a long peer around the cave itself. She sniffs delicately, then, and finally picks her way over to that nearest small knot of candidates, in time to offer a somewhat petulant comment of her own. "From what I've heard, someone -always- gets gored, in the end."

Despite being indoors, a breeze from the inner caverns sends smoke drifting at an angle as it curves up along a wall.

Dakota ohs. "I've never seen a hatching that had anyone hurt in it. Was she hurt badly?" continues her questions. She also hasn't seen many hatchings. "Is it *always* that dangerous?" she inquires.

Ryklin shrugs. "There's always someone who thinks they can be a daredevil, or someone who's not paying attention, she got thrown off balance by one of the girls next to her, made a mess of her leg, but nothing that wasn't repairable." he says, oblivious to any squeamishness that the girls might be displaying.

Cheni scowls. "You got the easy jobs, I always get stuck with that Smithcraft apprentice who watches over you like a wherry after a tunnelsnake. My shoulders ache for days after polishing his things for him." She gives a wave as Bianca comes into the cavern, once she is close enough, that is, to notice. "I can't remember if anyone got gored at Ista, it happened so fast, I couldn't see much that made much sense amongst the impressions." She nods to Dakota. "Enough you got to stay on your toes, yes. Besides, it's so hot on the sands, they say, you walk gingerly enough as it is."

"Someone -did- get gored at that last Istan hatching," Bianca interjects, gathering her skirts around her to keep them safe from some imagined menace on the floor. "It was... awful. Just -awful.-" Descriptive, huh. "They -do- tell you to stay away from the little beasts though, so."

Ryklin smirks at Bianca's attitude, but he also grins charmingly at her. "Just like little babies, they grow out of their clumsiness."

Cheni shrugs, a look of disapproval on her face. "No offense to your candidate group, Bianca but I noticed some really didn't seem to be focused at all as to what was happening. You would have thought they were off skipping stones across a lake rather than standing on sands with huge dragons and hatchlings all around them." She peers over her shoulder to a distant corner of the cavern. "Did you hear something over there?"

As the fire burns, two candidates from Fort haul over smaller pieces of wood and set them next to the fire, placing them on the bed of stones.

Bianca shrugs rather dismissively at Cheni, though for just a heartbeat she matches Ryklin's smirk. This fades, though, as one brow arches. "N...no? Why? What did -you- hear?"

Cheni shakes her head and holds a finger to her lips as she tries to listen again. "I don't know.. a rustling sort of sound, maybe it was just the wind. You know, wind can play weird tricks on your mind." Never mind there is not much wind in the cavern. "I'm sure it was nothing, nothing at all. But we might want to watch the food just to be safe?"

Ryklin laughs. "Yeah, if we don't, old Tubby will be into it." he says good-naturedly, gesturing at one of the more chubby of their fellow candidates.

Cheni smirks and says mysteriously. "If -something- doesn't get to it first. Even Tubby wouldn't dare fight with -something- that might be dangerous."

Ryklin deadpans. "Maybe we'll get lucky, and it'll take one of the little ones... then there'd still be plenty of food for all of us."

Bianca looks off toward the direction of the food, and then deeper into the cavern, then swallows gingerly. "There isn't anything -there- really, is there?" She does take a half-step back in the direction of the archway though, perhaps just to be on the safe side. "They -did- make sure this cave was empty, right?"

Two inner cavern workers drop off extra blankets by the entrance and scurry away, not about to be drawn in by innocent glances by scheming candidates.

Scrape... scraaape... a noise comes from /somewhere/ in the caverns. Giant tunnelsnake! Wait.. no.. in just one moment, a box appears around the corner from the entrance, Shawnah and another candidate pushing it before them, "Ha.. found 'em!" Shawnah announces, and then straightens. A brow quirks up at the worried look seen on a few of the closest candidates' faces, and she gives the pushing partner a glance before stepping toward the group, "What'd we miss?"

Ryklin smiles, almost a leer as Bianca backs into him suddenly. Dropping his head down slightly, he adds in a low voice. "Relax sweetheart, I'm here to protect you." and he looks on as the scraping gets louder, and louder.

Dakota snorts though she blinks wide-eyed at the scraping sounds. Then Shawnah arrives and Dakota visibly relaxes. "What's in the box?" calls out Dakota.

Cheni nervously looks towards the entrance. She -thought- the noise was coming from the back of the cavern and her gaze returns there, for a very brief moment. Spooked by her own teasing, she jumps as the scraping comes closer still. "Shards and shells, Shawnah. Must you do that?"

Bianca freezes -- partially because she did in fact back into Ryklin, and partially because the noise gets louder. She recovers motion a heartbeat later, whirling halfway to *stare* at the other candidate, and then to send a wide-eyed look down toward the scraping sound... which proves to be Shawnah, a seemingly welcome distraction. "Don't -do- that!" she echoes Cheni, sort of, backing away in a new direction.

Ryklin just grins. "For shame Shawnah, you've given them all a turn." he comments, grinning widely. "What have you got in there anyhow?"

Shawnah laughs, jerking a thumb toward the box, "Some old candidate robes.. a lot look just /awful/, but some are salvageable." she then blinks innocently at first Cheni, then Bianca. "Do what?" she asks, voice even more innocent than the look. A slight grin turns up the corner of her mouth though, turning her look more impish. That upturned mouth suddenly turns into a frown though, as she peers at one dark corner, before she shrugs and grins yet again, "Figured it'd be a good idea for people without robes, y'know?"

Not overly worried about the dark corner, much, Dakota breaks into a grin. "Ooh, good idea. I haven't even started mine yet. Course, I'm not too worried about it, I'm fairly good with a needle."

Ryklin chuckles, watching Bianca scoot away from him now as well. "Right you are then." and shudders at Dakota's comments. "I'm not."

Cheni sniffs at Ryklin's grin. "I wasn't afraid, I was just concerned for poor Bianca here. She's so delicate and all, we have to watch out for each other." Heading back to the fire and -light-, she pretends to be busy handing split wood to a fellow candidate who looks at her blankly, shaking an unwanted stick of wood back at her.

Despite the heat of the fire, a breeze brings a hint of cold that slips a chill into the cavern.

Dakota hasn't moved from the circle of light yet, still absorbing the heat that the fire puts off. "Not too much more wood." she remarks to Cheni, noticing her handing the sticks over. Small goose bumps appear on her arms and she scoots just a tad closer to the fire, shooting a quick look to the dark corner.

Bianca just shakes her head, busying herself with smoothing out ruffled edges. Her skirt, her curls, her pride. She wasn't scared, really. She sniffs a bit finally and looks at the box then, one tawny brow curving upward. "A whole -box- full of old robes, huh. How... -exciting.-"

Ryklin throws a hand to his face. "Drats, did someone remember to order that dried llama logs." he ads, and then ducks as a barrage of groans and pillows come flying at him.

A trio of candidates come racing in, giggling secretively as they approach the light of the fire. Up to no good, they edge their way around the outside of the circle, then dart away in to the shadows.

Cheni definitely heard something that time and she takes a glowlight holder in hand and goes off to investigate. She looks back over her shoulder. "Dakota, there's lots of fuel, over by the wall, there." She watches the trio with a smirk and starts to tiptoe after them.

Shawnah bobs her head. "Oh, yes. /Very/ exciting." Shawnah says to Bianca, voice carrying a hint of sarcasm. "But.. s'got to get done sometime, neh?" she walks toward the fire, leaving the box behind for now. Ryklin gets an odd look, as do the giggling candidates. Seeing Cheni apparently heading after them, she opts not to say anything, and just plops to a seat on the ground.

Dakota can't resist an eye roll Bianca's direction but before she can make any remark, the trio catches her attention. Grinning Cheni's way, she also hops up and tiptoes after them also.

Rustling through a bag, a candidate chuckles as she brings out a secret stash of lopsided doughdots, slightly burned but still edible. She adds them to the camp out provisions with the flair and pride of a MasterBaker

Cheni wills herself -not- to jump as Dakota follows behind her. Again, a finger goes to her lips. "Shhhh They are up to no good back there, as a prankster myself, I know all the clues."

Dakota grins at Cheni. "I know, me too." she whispers, darting her glance to the trio. "I'm sure they are up to no good. Maybe they'll let us help." she snickers quietly.

Ryklin grins, padding after Cheni, but only as far as the table, where he goes to 'check' on the food. "It's good." he notes, as he returns back to their group of bedrolls, munching away on something.

Teryla pokes her head in, looking for all of Pern like she's sneaking into the kitchens before a major feast, looking for a morsel to steal. Seeing the bunches of Candidates, she pauses, then does her best to look like she _meant_ to walk in here. Which she did. Of course.

Shawnah tilts her head, apparently listening to Cheni and Dakota speak. Smirking, she scootches closer to the fire, though she twists herself just so to peer toward where the group went. And then Teryla is suddenly in view, and she clears her throat loudly before lifting a hand in a wave. "Welcome!" she calls.

Ryklin smiles, and murmurs a heads up ladies, we have company, before he slouches down onto his bedroll. "Evening." he notes in Teryla's direction

Cheni continues her careful stalking of the noises and giggles in the shadows. As everything suddenly goes quiet, she lifts the glow up, trying to get it to reflect against the walls. "Where did they go?" At the clearing of the throat, she looks over her shoulder, spotting Teryla and freezes, literally. Anyone following too close would walk right into this new statue.

And Dakota is following too close, all her attention and concentration on the corner and listening intently for activity there. As suddenly Cheni lifts up the glow to show an empty corner she blinks. "What the..." and with a startled of she collides right into Cheni, cracking her chin on the other girls shoulder.

Teryla seems rather surprised by the reaction she caused. As a giggle floats out of the darkness, her expression takes on a slightly fearful look. "Uh, sorry... should I leave you three... uh, four, or five, alone?" Then, as she notices the pauses and murmured warnings, a frown. "Whatcha doing?" She sounds bored more than anything, wanting to find something to do.

Pale faces reflect the glowing warmth of the flame and slightly chilled fingers are drawn to its comfort.

Ryklin leans over to mention something to the cluster of candidates just beyond the set of bedrolls he's grouped in. "...Don't be such a wherryhead." can be heard just barely as he admonishes a cheeky candidate. "Naw, feel free to come on in." he says cheerfully.

Cheni scowls as the three culprits race off and sticks her own tongue out at the youngest as he makes a face at her. She stumbles as Dakota crashes into her. "Ouch, nearly bit my tongue. Are you alright?" In a louder tone, she chuckles. "Us, nothing much, ma'am, just having a nice sanctioned camp out is all, working on robes."

Dakota's head shakes to clear it. A grin flashed to Cheni. "Sorry. I'm fine. Your shoulder ok?" after all she does have a hard chin there. Turning she starts to head back to the fire. "Just sitting around the campfire." says Dakota towards the greenrider. "And Shawnah brought some old robes for us to go through. For the ones who haven't started on their robes yet. Like me." she smirks.

No such player.

Shawnah chuckles lightly, though she winces at the collision farther on. "/We/ weren't doing anything wr-- err, much." she answers Teryla, sending Ryklin a sidelong grin at his comment. "Seriously, welcome! We've got lots of exotic foods, and fire, and old stinky robes, and.. well.. something else.." she sends a glance in the direction the trio of candidates disappeared.

Teryla looks delighted with this distraction she's come upon. "Stinky robes, really?" Funny that /that/ catches her attention most. "What's the something else? Telling scary stories, or what?" She plops right down, somewhere between here and there but right amidst the Candidates.

Cheni rubs at her shoulder and shakes off any mention of pain. "Nah, I'm fine, I wrestled enough with my brothers that I'm not bothered by a pointy chin. You sure got a strong bone there." She saunters over to the fire after scanning the cavern. "Mostly or what, ma'am."

Who needs scary stories when you might be in a spooky cave? Dakota returns to her bedroll, plopping back down with her legs crossed under her. She's obviously stopped by the blanket with all the food, cause suddenly she's got bread with some kind of spread on it and a handful of fingerroots.

A light chill is quickly chased away as the room fills with candidates.

Copious Chaotic Comestibles(#7542)

A clean blanket has been spread out not far from the fire. As Candidates, residents, crafters and riders add to the bountiful if somewhat plain fare, the surplus is kept in tunnelsnake safe containers. Candidates take turns on guard duty, making sure the blanket's contents are equally divided Various succulent treats are spread out over the table, including toasted 'Bread' with Cheddar-Red Pepper Spread; 'Fingerroot' and Raisin Salad with Dressing; 'Meatrolls'; Baked 'Tubers'; Barbecued 'Corn' with Butter; Blackberry 'Bubblies' and 'Pumpkin' Creamed Cheese Cake. Skins of water and juice are propped up against a wall and impossibly strong klah simmers on embers. Chipped plates of various sizes, cracked bowls and a few forks, spoons and knives add to the make-do meal.

And one of those candidates trudging in behind like a herdbeast is Elauren. Hmph. She takes a slow perusal of available spots left to place her bedroll. The trickling water gets a baleful glance from the girl as she keeps her distance from that side.

Shawnah bobs her head, "Yeah.. mostly, 'or what'." she glances to Teryla though, "Unless you know any good scary stories?" heehee.. that's /all/ some of the candidates already looking nervous need.

Mmm, food. Dakota falls silent as her stomach realizes that there is food to be had. After the first bite of her bread, it's woken up and clamoring for more. So for a little bit, Dakota contents herself with eating and simply listening to the conversations. She curls up on her bedroll, close but not too close to the fire. She's still within the circle of light, so the sounds that go bump in the dark don't sound as scary to her.

Teryla raises her eyebrows. "Or what," she muses. "What does 'or what' entail, exactly?" Then she's all distracted by that food, and she's angling for a better look at the food blankie, though still waiting to hear what the 'or what' is all about.

Ryklin calls out to Elauren. "There's room over here if you want to be closer to the fire." he note, before shifting a little and grinning at Teryla. "If you've got one to tell us, I'd be more than happy to listen." he say in his most charming voice.

An errant breeze rushes through the cavern causing the flames to flicker eerily.

Cheni smiles innocently at Teryla. "There's juice and water over there, and klah on the hearth. and oh, we haven't been doing anything beyond what we were saying, robes, talking, becoming well acquainted with each other." She rubs her shoulder as it reminds her of the intimate acquaintance it made with Dakota's chin.

Elauren's head turns over at Ryklin, following his voice. Her face lights into a soft grin as she approaches. "Thanks. I sure appreciate it," she replies in her drawl. Over the initial grump of having to find a decent place for her bedroll, she stuffs hers in snuggly amidst some other candidates near the fire and plops down. "Eh, what's this, scary stories?"

"Oh, no," Teryla replies quickly to Ryklin. "I'm sure my scary stories aren't in line with the kind you all need for a good scaring. I don't have stories, really. Anyone else have one, though?" She hunches down, having gotten herself a fingerroot to gnaw on, and glances about hopefully.

Ryklin smiles widely. "Yes, I rather enjoy all the /acquainting/ too.. don't you?" he says with a handsome smile plastered across his features. Although he does look just a tad sadder at the mention of no stories from the rider.

Cheni shoots Ryklin a -look- then smiles at Teryla again. "Totally innocent, sanctioned acquainting, ma'am. Honestly. Stories? I'm not good at stories, besides, if I mention Braddle Hold one more time around you all, I'll be dunked in the lake frozen or not!"

A firelizard whizzes by so quickly that most could not identify him. On his way back through the cavern, he snatches a sock and races off, chittering with mischief.

Shawnah makes a face as she shakes her head. "Well, I for one am no good at story-telling. Plus, only really good one I know is Kassima's, and I'd just butcher that one to death." she glances over at Ryklin's sad face, and grins. "What about you?" she asks hopefully.

Elauren inclines her head thoughtfully at Teryla's question. "My Pa used to tell of 'The Black Wherry'. I can't say I can tell it like he does though," she admits. Though, she does look towards Ryklin and snorts even as Cheni shoots her -look- at him.

Ryklin lets out an expletive and a 'Dangitall' as a small blue whizzes past his ear and filches somebody’s clothing. "When I get my hands on you..." he mutters blackly and then grins with a slight look of embarrassment at the girls about him. "Sorry bout that ladies.'

Teryla just rolls here eyes at Ryklin, but shrugs a shoulder. "Well, tell the 'Black Wherry' story, then, by all means," she encourages Elauren. "The only scary things I can tell of are about men in kilts doing handstands, and such." She gets a look of disgust on her face, then turns to Elauren hopefully.

Cheni grins encouragingly to Elauren. "Please, that one sounds good." She muffles a giggle as the firelizard whizzes through and openly laughs at Ryklin's reaction. "Oh come on, they aren't tunnel snakes. Speaking of which, handstands and kilts?"

Shawnah just rolls her eyes, and then blinks at the whizzing blue, squinting and then glancing at her shoulder, where a blue that no longer blends in with her head /is/ missing. Hmm. Cheni's comment earns a sudden burst of giggles, though she quickly coughs and puts that hopeful look back on, turning it to Elauren.

Elauren's gaze is distracted by the whizzing blue. Hmph. Her lips visibly twitch by the firelight. "I'm hoping' that wasn't no ladies underpants or somethin'," she says flatly to Ryklin. "I could give it a shot," she replies to Teryla, turning her gaze back in the general direction of the others. "But I reckon your sort of story would be more light-hearted." At that, she settles again into a barely visible grin at the greenrider.

Hot Istan peppers "somehow" found their way into the snooty Holder daughter's meatroll. Her whines and tears are soothed away by a fellow candidate who looks around for culprits, all the while blowing the girl's nose with a not so clean hanky.

Teryla shakes her head. "Oh, no... Elauren, definitely a scary story. We don't want you all to start having nightmares /just/ yet, you know." She smiles back at Elauren, pausing only a moment to admire the interesting noises coming from the Hot Pepper girl.

Cheni wrinkles her nose the noses coming from the girl. She nods again. "Oh do tell, Elauren. This is the perfect atmosphere for not so light-hearted tales?"

Ryklin nods at Elauren, chuckling. "Aye, lets have a creepy tale now." he comments.

Elauren claps her hands together, and rubs them, "Alrighty then, I'll give her a go then," she replies, casting a final glance about the fireside story circle. There's Elauren, hunching forward towards the fire, her eyes narrowed and a grimace settled into her face. She begins in a low, ominous voice. "Well, many, many turns ago there used to be a small farming cothold not too far from my own. We're near Nerat, and this one was upstream from ours. I say used to be, for today, all that's left is the empty hold which has been overtaken by spinners and tunnelsnakes."

Someone tosses another piece of wood on the fire, eliciting a rapid crackling as wood breaks under the sudden pressure, the fire burning hotter and higher into the air.

Shawnah offers nothing but an unconcerned glance for the sniffling girl, before turning to listen to Elauren. "Ooooh.." she says, leaning forward a bit.. and then jerking back as the fire suddenly crackles higher.

Cheni reaches for her blanket and pulls it over her shoulders. She grins as a fellow candidate pours a mug of klah for her but jumps as the loud crack that came just as Elauren's voice changed.

Teryla makes a face at the mention of spinners and tunnelsnakes, but otherwise stays still, engrossed in the story. She's forgotten about the rest of the fingerroot in her hand, though, and a green 'lizard hops out from under hair and snatches it.

Elauren makes a dramatic pause as another log is tossed into the flames, her eyes watching as sparks fly upward towards the dark, dank ceiling. Again, she casts a glance about the story-telling circle as she begins again. "Some say the cothold was abandoned because the nearby soils were exhausted of nutrients. But others," and she pauses again, slowly coming to a stand. "Others say that it was the Black Wherry that drove them away." Even as she says that last bit in a snarling voice that raises intensely at the pronounciation of 'The Black Wherry', she thrusts her face forward towards a Fortian girl who was yawning.

Cheni grins as the story continues, a delicious shiver going down her spine as she wraps fingers around the klah mug for comfort. As Elauren rises, her smile broadens in appreciation of a good storyteller.

Teryla oohs softly, raising her hand to her mouth and blinking when she discovers the fingerroot is gone. Frowning slightly, she continues to wait expectantly for more of the scary story.

New wood shavings and end pieces of work projects from the Woodsmith’s shop are brought in, a gift to the candidates and a handy way to get rid of scraps.

Shawnah smiles lightly, if a little nervously, as Elauren tells her story. When she suddenly jumps toward the yawning Fortian girl, she gives a little jump herself, let alone what the one that was /meant/ to startle does.

A sudden resurgence of giggles from a darkened corner marks young girls taking advantage of the shadows to surreptitiously scheme, preparing to launch a surprise attack.

"Stop it Elauren! You scared me half to death!" the girl from Fort exclaims, although she's giggling. This admission seems to bring some pleasure to Elauren, who smirks at both her, and also at Shawnah. "It's said that in this cothold, first the smaller animals began to disappear, only feathers or tufts of fur left in their place. Then when a porcine disappeared the cotholders began to get suspicious. A guard was put up. And then one evening, they finally saw it." Even as the girls in the background begin to giggle, she holds her arms up in a terrifying pose, as if reaching forward with ominous wings. "The black wherry!" she snarls. "The cothold's best archers tried shooting it down, but to no avail. The Black Wherry swooped from the sky, a threat almost as terrifying as Thread ad took another porcine. But that's not all it took." She holds her breath, hanging on the last part of that sentence.

Cheni clutches her mug a bit firmer and the white knuckles are the only sign that she is anything but amused by the tale. She smiles, listening on but as the arms raise and the shadows caused by the firelight enlargens the shadowed creature behind Elauren, her eyes do widen. "What else did it take?" She clears her throat. "I mean, just wondering, is all."

Shawnah leans forward, too enthralled by the story to notice the return of the giggling trio.

Klah mugs clink as overbrewed klah is served from a pot that simmers on the embers of the fire.

Elauren grins at Cheni, her eyes twinkling with firelight. "Well, there was this little who had disobeyed his Ma. Not knowing whether to believe the Black Wherry story or not, she had decided to be cautious, forbidding the boy to go down to the river for a swim. The boy did go down for a swim the afternoon after the Black Wherry was supposedly sighted. He was jumping off the rope swing, plungin' into the deep parts like always when the air about him darkened." Again, her voice sinks low and she hunkers down. "I reckon the boy must have thought it was a cloud passing over the sun, for he launched forward again from the rope, unheeding of the darkness descending. And as he soared through the air, the last thing he must have heard was an ear piercing SCREECH!" And at that, Elauren raises her wherry arms again and makes a noise to wake the old aunties in the residents dorm. Her voice pierces the shadows as she utters the Black Wherry's scream.

Someone turns over a few of the logs, dredging up crackles, hisses and sputters from the depths of the fire. The would-be pranksters are caught red-handed, literally as the red-wort they tried to smear onto another candidate's feet reflects in the light. A rider hrumphs and drags the girls off out of the room.

Shawnah emits an 'eek!' as Elauren screeches, jumping back just in time to see the red wort reflect in the light. "Eek!" she lets out again, and jumps back yet /again/, before just staring as the candidates are dragged off. After a moment, she lets loose with giggles.

The hair on Cheni's arms stands up on end at that shriek and she clutches at her blanket with her free hand. "Shards and shells!" As she spots the candidates being dragged off, she begins to giggle as well, then begins to laugh, tears running down her cheeks. "Oh shells, and he'd be wearing a black wherhide jacket as well."

Even as the rider swoops in on the offending candidates, Elauren's face relaxes from the tension used to emit the Black Wherry screech. "I reckon that little boy's not the only one who'll have felt the talons of the Black Wherry," she comments, snorting. "Well, the guard saw the boy being hauled off by the wretched Black Wherry and again, they tried to shoot the thing down. But, alas, to no avail. The little boy was never seen again. And so it is said that the residents took up and left rather than face the Black Wherry again." She shrugs, returning to her seat and grinning as her voice turns to it's normal, lazy drawl. "Or so my Pa says."

Shawnah just shakes her head, still giggling, "Well, isn't /that/ ironic." she says rhetorically. "Eesh.. umm.. nice story Elauren." she manages around the giggles, "You have that planned out?"

Someone prods the wood with a stick, garnering a healthy pop from the fire.

Cheni giggles and applauds her fellow candidate. "Oh that was wonderful, Elauren. Nothing like a tall tale to make a person hungry. Any of those dried wherry strips still left over there?" She looks towards the entrance, perhaps sensing someone has come through.

OOC The emits were NOT planned with the story but they did seem to fit well by happenstance.

Elauren laughs as Cheni craves for wherry. "Thanks, and I think I'd take some as well actually," she notes, smirking. To Shawnah, she gives a relaxed grin. "I'd like to claim that all that was timed perfectly, but I'm afraid it was just coincidence. Though I reckon it'll be a good sotry about a story someday." She turns her head as a draft swooshes in, nodding at Jeroch and Kassi as they join. "Howdy, come on in!"

A high-pitched squeal causes those around the two cousins to laugh, Jaranke chuckles sheepishly. "Sorry, I thought it was a tunnelsnake."

Jeroch grins wryly as he wanders in, poking his head about. "Shells, good thing I brought extra glows," he says cheerfully, his elbows supporting said glowbaskets. He also hugs a bundled blanket close to his chest and steps aside to allow Kassima in before him. "After you," he says amiably.

There's a bit of muttering from the entranceway before Kassi appears, probably a result either of her need to stoop--not being a short woman, after all--or the difficulty of maneuvering her large and battered box past that selfsame entrance. There's a pause, then a sneeze, and finally the greenrider comes into the light, only slightly the worse for wear and her kilt mercifully free of any spinner-webs. "You lot aren't being difficult t'reach at *all*, are you?" she asks the Candidates en masse with a wry, flashed grin, adjusting her grip on her burden. "Oh, thankee, Jeroch; you're kind. Faranth, this thing weighs a ton. G'deve and g'day and all that--have I missed much?"

Shawnah makes a face, eying Cheni. "Ugh.. anything else still left over there?" she asks, and then grins to Elauren, "Well, it fit in perfectly, anyway! Good show. Great for the mood in.." she blinks at the squeal, "In here.." and then when others join them, she turns to peer into the dimmer light. "Heya Jeroch.." pause, grin. "Kassima. Mind the other box.. it's a bit heavy too." there's a rather large box stuffed with a mass of mostly and/or once white material - old robes, apparently.

Cheni crawls over to the blanket and rummages through a couple of sacks before coming up with the smoked wherry meat. She tosses over a piece to Elauren. "Here you go and thanks again for the story and it's nice to see those three hauled off." She nods as well to Jeroch and Kassima as they come closer to the light cast by the fire. As she spots Kassima's kilt, for some unknown reason, she breaks into giggles again. "Hard to find? Oh, just look for the trail of bubbly crumbs and you'll find us." She can't figure out which to look at Jeroch's box or Kassima's and shrugs.

Elauren catches the tossed wherry, snarling at it as she rips off a bite with her back teeth. Seems as if the Black Wherry hasn't quite left the cavern yet.

A chorus of "not now!" rises forth in unison as an industrious candidate pulls out her robe and thread, hoping to get some sewing done. Her robe is whisked away and needle and thread is exchanged for a mug of klah and a sweetroll.

"Bubbly crumbs, I missed those!" Jeroch says to Cheni, although it wasn't he she spoke too. "Someone must have gobbled them up before I got here," he says through a grin. The woodcrafter approaches the fire and begins to unroll his blanket which holds several supplies. He sets about putting the supplies atop the blanket in a neat fashion and lays the extra glowbaskets out about the fire. All the while he's whistling some lumberjack tune.

"I'll mind, all right," Kassi assures, giving the box a sidelong wary glance. With some difficulty, she manages to find a space for her and her box-o'-death and to sit down in it without flashing the Cavern, kilt or no; once it's down on the ground, it's easier to see that many things bulk up strangely over the edge of the box, their natures disguised by the smallish blanket she's draped over the whole thing. "Nay wish t'end up tripping or knocking those white things into the food. You'd like as nay be killing me. Hard t'*reach*, I said, nay t'find! That duck at the entrance nearly got my brain knocked in. Must be the luck of the kilt that let me avoid it. What are you bringing out there, Jeroch?"

Cheni gnaws at her stick of smoked meat as she blinks in the sudden infusion of light. Peering owlishly at the implements, she asks. "What's that?" And in the same child-like way, she gestures to Kassima's box. "And that? The rest of the visitors only brought us sour looks."

Laughter erupts from near the provisions and with a crack, the fire shoots up to show the blushing, glowering face of a candidate who holds up a handful of deformed, pathetic looking meatrolls. "Hey, they are still edible and the cook said they were good enough for us to eat but not good enough for the serving table."

Shawnah eyes Jeroch and his tools, and then Kassima and her box. She seems to have a pretty good idea of what might /be/ in that box, from the look on her face... though hopefully Jeroch's crafting tools won't be implemented with the contents. Without making comment, she just waits for one to speak up.

Jeroch tosses his head back and laughs at Cheni, his face lighting up with warmth. "Well, no sour looks from me at least," he turns his large eyes up at Kassima.

Kassima answers, sagely, "Stuff." Oh, that's helpful. "Mysterious stuff. I'truth, 'tis props in case I end up doing any story-telling; may nay end up using all of 'em, or most of 'em, or any of 'em, but I thought I'd bring 'em along, just in case. Nay tools of any sort, I'm afraid, except for the Em--never mind, I don't want t'be spoiling the surprise. Pshhh! Jeroch, you say that as if'n you expect *me* t'look sour."

Whittling Supply Blanket walks into the cavern.

Jeroch dropped Whittling Supply Blanket.

Cheni is intrigued and leans over, allowing her blanket to fall off her shoulders now that the scary story is over. Her right eyebrow quirks up as the word Mysterious. "Oh, Ryklin gave us an inkling, perhaps, that you might be down. He had to go off to finish his chores, should be back eventually."

A blanket has been laid out upon the floor that has various supplies used to whittle. There's several knives, all of the same likeness, with wooden handles and a small, flattened blade a fingerwidth or so long. Next to the knives, Of all things, several halves of tubers are settled atop the blanket, although what they'll be used for is up to speculation. There are also some small, leather thimbles.



Other interesting odds and ends for the whittling are laid out upon the blanket. Small, pre-cut shapes of scrub pine are laid out to choose from. Trundlebugs, flowers, fish, simple firelizard silhouettes, hearts, eggs, and runners are all available to choose from, each one with graphite marks to guide where to cut.

A shimmering heat rises from the fire, swaying only a little.

"Naw, I'm just teasing Kassima. If ever I saw you'd looking sour there'd have to be plenty going wrong I think," Jeroch replies with a lopsided grin. "Actually, Leya let it slip to me that there might be some overnight expedition deep inside the Weyr. We did something much the same when I was an apprentice, except not in a Weyr of course. But anyway, we all whittled about the fire. I was wondering if anyone might want to try their hands at some whittling. It's a good way to pass the time." He shrugs, the movement sending a loose ringlet sliding across his cheek. "Though, I wouldn't mind hearing one of Kassi's famed stories."

The chill of the air fades away beneath the heat of the fire, disturbed by neither entering riders nor caverns beyond.

Kassima quirks an eyebrow upwards. "Did he? That's curious. He certes didn't know m'plans, t'be speaking of them." She turns her head to grin wryly at Jeroch. "You might be surprised. 'Twas sour enough after that first morning spent clearing out the snow from Brensh's, when L'cher complained t'me about nay longer being able t'feel his male equipment, he'd been out so long; methinks I said something about it being just as well for the rest of the world if'n nay he or anyone else ever felt his male equipment again. Hopefully he's forgiven me by now. Though whether he'll ever forgive me for putting him on snow-watch I couldn't hazard to guess. Mayhaps if'n he finds some cotholder lass t'keep warm along the way. And I'm digressing--whittling, the shaping of wood bit by bit? I've tried that a time or two, when 'twas proddy. And I know M'kon's a fair hand at it. I'm certes content t'go later with the tale-telling, if'n 'tall--shells." She breaks off to sniff at the air, and though the musty scent makes her nose crinkle by reflex, there's something else.... "Is that food I'm smelling?"

Pranksters are foiled as their string is snatched away by a disapproving chaperone.

Shawnah perks. "Whittling?" she asks of Jeroch. "Well, I'm game! Though you just /might/ see someone loose an appendage.." she says, glancing around to the other candidates. She turns back to Jeroch then, and grins, "And maybe a story to go with it?" she asks in a hopeful tone, giving Kassima a sidelong glance.

Cheni shuffles and half waddles over to the woodcarving tools. "Better than sewing robes any old day. But what are those?" She bends to get a better look at the precut shapes. "Isn't that sort of cheating when they are already cut out for you?" She bobs her head up and down, puppy-eyed at Kassima. "We can whittle and talk at the same time?"

Jeroch's large eyes widen at Kassima. "Shells, you didn't! You know, that's a real delicate subject for us guys," he says through chuckles. Shawnah's comment makes him laugh as well. "Oh Jays, I hope not. Else the healer will be at me. I brought the thimbles to protect the thumbs. The blades are all sharpened, and to be truthful, that's a good thing. It's usually a -dull- knife that cuts someone." And, seeing Shawnah's game, he picks up a blade by the handle and offers it to her, pointing the handle end towards her. The other hand offers a leather thimble. "Anyone else interested, just get yourself a blade and a thimble. Be mindful not to touch the blade."

Jeroch adds, "And not cheating. It'll make it a lot easier for you if you're first learning," he says cheerfully to Cheni.

Kassima crosses her legs, hands folded in her bekilted lap. "I don't know if'n I want t'try whittling and storytelling at the same time," she protests. "I could be telling something else--gossip, histories, answer questions anyone has about this or that mayhaps, but I'd rather have m'full attention on a story of the dramatic kind--Jeroch, you say that, but believe me, there can't be aught *delicate* about Lach's. Else they'd have broken by now, oft as he puts 'em t'use." She's not very delicate about the subject herself. Naturally enough, she scoots over enough to pick up a knife and thimble for herself. Like someone's going to offer her a knife and she's not going to take it? Please. "What are we going t'be carving?" she wants to know.

The fire nearly dies down until a quick thinking candidate kneels, blowing on the embers and adding new kindling.

Kichevio steps cautiously into the cavern, keeping an eye out for any remaining spinners who might wish to defend their territory. "I come bearing cookies," she offers, holding out the napkin-covered plate. "Will these grant me safe passage? Ooooh, knives." Yep, she's a greenrider.

Cheni gestures to a few shoulder sacks, bowls and plates that are spread out on blankets near the fire. "Help yourself but I'd be careful, some of that stuff is interesting to put it nicely. Watch out for the finger root salad. It'll curl your hair." She gingerly takes the knife offered and a leather thimble, looking at the two with confusion.

Kichevio sets the cookies down in a convenient spot between the bubblies and the cake, taking one of each as she does (just to be fair). "You certainly picked the perfect spot for a campout," she notes dryly to the Candidates. "If someone doesn't vanish mysteriously tonight, I'll be very disappointed. Shall I arrange for it to be Ranly?"

Jeroch eyes that knife in Kassima's hand. After what she's just said about L'cher, he clears his throat. Despite this, his voice cracks slightly at first. "Hi Kich!" He clears his throat again. "Well, I'm going to start you off on tubers. Since wood's a valuable commodity, even this scrub pine here," and he points at the wood blanks demonstratively, "I thought it'd be good if everyone had some practice first. Even if you've whittled before you might want to follow along with a tuber first." He offers knives and thimbles about to those who are willing and as yet, unprepared.

Shawnah gingerly takes her knife and thimble, eying both a moment before grinning to Kassima, "S'okay.. lack of concentration plus knives would prolly equal.. some kind of mess, anyway." she makes a face, though there /is/ a bit of disappointment in her voice. And then Kichevio makes her announcement. "Ooh! Cookies are always good!" she gestures to the food pile with her knife, "Welcome to our humble abode?" she snickers then, "Couple already /have/.. care of the Black Wherry.." she then turns back to listen to Jeroch.

Kassima waggles that knife at Jeroch in playfully menacing fashion... until he says the T-word, at which point she carefully sets it back down on the cloth along with the thimble. "Methinks I'll busy m'self with getting food, then. And if'n you lot still want a story, I may be able t'oblige after all--only tell me if'n 'twould which one, if'n you've a preference? There are so many ghastly tales of horror over the time of Telgar's past, y'know. Or ghastly tales of iniquity. Or ghastly tales of men dressed as women. If'n that doesn't count as iniquity. Ranly, Kich?"

Cheni grins evilly, looking towards the shadows where Ranly was last reported being seen. She chuckles. "Oh, the Black Wherry already absconded with three pranksters, we shall just have to wait and see if he gets another." Counting her fingers with exaggerated care, she mutters. "Ten" Looking at Jeroch brightly, she grabs for a tuber. "I hope to have ten at the end of this exercise too." She shakes her head, shrugging lightly. "All Telgar stories are new to me, so I'm happy with any tale."

Kichevio has her own knife, thanks, but she does take a thimble with a nod of thanks to Jeroch. "Carving tubers. This is new. If mine turns out well, I'll dip it in a nice finish and put it on display in the living cavern." She salutes Kassi with the knife, chuckling. "Oh, one of the other Candidates. Little twit of a boy, tries to be macho and just comes off as hideously annoying. Saulith says Mirrath plans to step on him...the Black Wherry, Shawnah, Cheni? That sounds like a tale that Kassi needs to add to her repertoire."

With a dull thud, a taller candidate hits his head as he fails to duck as he walks too close to the rounded walls of the cavern. He laughs and waves off any concern, chagrined by his lack of attention.

"Please, tell your stories Kassi," Jeroch says scooting away from the knife. "I can get everyone started with the motions and the whittling can be done. Except, mind you, wouldn't want any jumpy stories at first, else a knife blade go slitting through someone's finger when they jump!" There's a grin sweeping across his face as he turns to the candidates and riders, casting his gaze about. "Ok, so the basics. You put the thimble on your thimble," Jeroch begins, with a lopsided grin. He places the leather thimble onto his right thumb. "And you hold the knife like so." He plants the knife firmly in his right hand, his fingers curled about the blade. The sharp end of the blade is held parallel to his thumb. "And then you take a tuber with your other hand. If your left handed, take the knife in your left hand then."

Baskets with glowlights are placed in darkened corners, not providing a lot of light but helping candidates from tripping over each other as they set out their blankets and gear.

Cheni winces as the candidate thwacks his noggin. "That's gotta hurt. Should have a glow light up there or something." Her attention is returned to Jeroch, listening carefully. Again, she looks at her fingers, then looks to Jeroch. "Knife, thimble, tuber, right. I got it." She brings her hands into some semblance of order as she answers Kichevio with a low murmur. "Get Elauren to tell you sometime, it was quite a tale. Rather scary."

Shawnah grins sideways at Cheni and scoots a little away from her - for Cheni's protection or her own? Both, most likely. A wide smile is given to the candidate she ends up closer to, who also scoots away. Ah well. A brow raises slightly as Kassi sets her knife back down and offers to tell the story, and the other as Kich brings out a knife she apparently had all along. Huh. "Oo.. any story that involves something in the box?" she asks Kassima, and then hushes to listen to Jeroch, and try to follow the instructions.

"That idea might frighten me, Kich, depending on what you choose t'carve. He isn't *another* one who leers at everything under the sun, is he?" Kassima rocks back on her heels for a moment, looking pained. "Faranth save us all...." She eventually returns to where her box sits with a plate loaded with pepper-spread bread, corn, and pumpkin cheesecake; no drink, though. The reason's revealed soon enough: she sticks her hand under the blanket and rummages in the box until she comes up with a heavy wineskin. "Right then... well. Hrm. I could be telling the Slithereth tale, or the Saga of the Sacred Vendetta--also known as how M'rgan became known as Auntie Martina t'my children; I could tell you all of the dread klah that sent a man running about the Cavern naked with a mushroom stuck to his rump. I could tell you of the Masked Man and his attempts t'pay court t'several riders you might have met. I could tell you of the day the tubers rebelled and attempted t'kill mankind; I could tell you how 'twas learned the moons are covered with powdered sugar; I could tell you about butt honor. Or I could be telling you something else. I've props for *some* of the stories, but nay all."

Powdered sweetener, even, as Pern does not have sugar.

Kichevio obediently brandishes the implements properly, knife in right hand, tuber in left hand, rah rah rah. "Saulith says she'd eat a wherry of any color," she passes on with a laugh, "so, so much for the threat of that." She nearly inhales some of the powdered sweetener on her bubbly at Kassi's list of Terrifying Tales. "I'll vote for the saga of Auntie Martina, or the Masked Man. It might not be wise to give the tubers ideas."

Cheni looks around the cavern and purses her lips at the shadows that are so dark that she cannot peer through them. "Umm, the Slithereth one might bring some tunnelsnakes out from the shadows? The two legged variety of tunnelsnake that is?"

I'sai ducks his head as he enters, the glowlight reflecting where his face and hands are still a little damp; even so, a few ink-smudges have made it past that recent washing.

A daredevil spinner dangles dangerously close to the flames as it bounces up and down its thread. An inch too close and a plop is heard as its safety line snaps, quickly followed by a sizzle.

"Rebellious... tubers...?" Shawnah asks, frowning at her own and giving it an experimental poke. She shakes her head then, "I don't know if I even /want/ to hear about mushrooms attached to men's butts. I've only heard bits and pieces of the Slithereth tale.. and none about the masked man..?" she glances up then, as the movement of others near the entrance is heard, and she waves her tuber in greeting.

Kassima asks Cheni before biting into a slice of bread, "But is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" This asked, she sinks her teeth into the hot-spread stuff--and hisses. "Hot sharding shells and stars! Ooh! Mmmph--" A hurried grab brings her wineskin to her mouth for a few deep swallows, after which she seems *slightly* less distressed: "Who made *that*? Sweet moons above and waters below... well. I've props for the Slithereth and Martina stories both, so one of those? Though I *wish* I had props for the Masked Rider. The loincloth, if'n naught else. Heyla, Is--your mother didn't throw an inkwell at you, did she?"

Jeroch says "One about M'rgan sounds funny," Jeroch notes after Kassima's long list of stories. "And I'd think a Black Wherry might not be very tasty," he remarks as to Kichevio's commentary. He turns his head up in greeting, flashing a smile to I'sai and Yashira as they duck inside the cavern. "Hey there. I was just going to show them some whittling. You can join in if you like." He holds the tuber before him demonstratively. "So, the basic whittling move is like so. Your offhand's over here, out of the way, but steadying the wood, or tuber in this case. And then with your blade hand, you use your thumb as a guide and to steady your blade, don't be afraid though, because you got your thimble. And you dig into the tuber with a firm grip on your blade. Make the motion slow, and controlled. No need to rush.""

"Hm? No, but she might as well have," Is returns, once his nose has finished wrinkling over roast spinner; "Just - well, Skyfire. You know. ...Whittling? And any more stories about Mart, if I haven't heard 'em already, would be entirely appreciated," and he hunts up an empty spot near one of the candidates, if there's such to be had.

Yashira steps into the cavern, shoving a chunk of meatroll at the green fire lizard on her shoulder.

Cheni coughs and looks down at the tuber in hand but not before waving a tuber at I'sai and those who came in with him. Her eyes sparkle with mirth but she manages to say. "I thought I warned people about some of that food. The kitchen gave us candidates food to bring to this campout but much of it was prepared by the new apprentices." She shrugs. "I still think Slitherth, myself. I'd rather face my enemies face to face then have them creep up behind me with who knows what to toss down my back."

Kichevio tries a whittle or two, and looks quite gratified when she wounds neither herself or the nervous girl beside her. The tuber isn't shaped like anything yet, but time may tell. "Ah yes, the Flying Inkwells of Skyfire. Should be a ballad about those any day now. Okay, Kassi, Martina or Slithereth, whichever is scarier."

"Go ahead and practice a few on the tubers. The goal is to make some sort of shape surface in your tubers. Maybe ist's just a little hump in the middle of the tuber or something. But once you've mastered that, you can switch to the wood. Be mindful the wood's a bit more tough than the tubers though. But everything's marked out for you." And with that, Jeroch begins to circle amongst those gathered, stopping to demonstrate personally or give some encouragement.

"I want t'know the story of *that*," Kassi warns Is, and pauses mid-invitational wave towards the ground near her; spotting Yash, she turns the invitation to her instead. "You, too, Yash? Good t'see you. Welladay, either one of 'em's *disturbing*. Since the votes are split," she offers, "I could be telling 'em both? Mayhaps Martina first since it seems t'have a bit more enthusiasm."

"You're doing what with tubers? And you didn't invite Pierron?" Yashira asks, sauntering toward the fire.

I'sai returns Cheni's smile as he sits, then flicks thumbnail across teeth at Kich over there - but _before_ taking one each of knives and tubers. "Pierron. That's twice in one day. Shards. And you know I'm no storyteller, Kassi."

Jeroch goes home.

Jeroch has left.

A cheery crackle emanates from the fire, burning brightly against the stone walls.

Shawnah nods at Jeroch's words, and gives her tuber another poke, and then a little scrape. Nodding in satisfaction as the ease the knife cuts, she makes another, and then pauses to glance up to the group again. "I'm game for either, or both is best." she says, and then quirks a brow. "Umm... having heard some stories about that Perrion, I do /not/ think I want to know.."

Cheni does as Jeroch demonstrated, blade in the approximate angle he suggested. First stroke down and she sees a quarter tuber snap off and bounce into the fire. "Baked tubers anyone?" She grins. "Any story would do, honest, Kassima. Especially with the props you have lugged down to the cavern." She giggles at Yashira's comment. "He might not want to -know- what we are doing with these tubers."

Yashira settles down on the floor, making the green on her shoulder squawk. She peers about with narrowed eyes.

Kassima rolls her shoulders in an amiable shrug as both riders head for different spots, and smoothes her kilt with one hand while still holding that much-nibbled bread slice with the other. "I'll still get it out of you, or try at least, soon or late. Mayhaps late." Clearing her throat, she turns to her box to poke through it, eventually withdrawing a device. It's an interesting-looking device. Rather like pliers with razor blades at the ends. "Long ago, in a land far, far away, there once lived a scrawny stick of a boy named Martigan," she begins, bouncing the Device against her palm. "He was pesky and annoying in the way of all lads, but even so, little did he or anyone else realize the hideously disturbing destiny he one day would achieve."

"...Martigan?" Yashira snorts faintly, shaking her head. "Hoo boy."

Cheni mutters. "I can think of at least three candidates who fit that category." She pokes at the fire with a stick, attempting to remove the tuber before it begins to smoke.

Kichevio taps her tuber against her palm in lieu of clapping, grinning broadly. "So can I, Cheni. If you like, just substitute Ranly into the story in place of Martigan. It'll be worth it."

I'sai gives Yashira's green a narrow, sidelong look before starting to gouge out his tuber's eyes; meanwhile, he mutters something vaguely complimentary about alliteration.

Protesting his innocence loudly, the rotund candidate from Telgar Hall mutters as his nearest companions pull out four bubblies, a sandwich and a sweetroll from his pockets and add their find to the growing pile of supplies.

"For you see, this scrawny stick of trouble would one day be hauled unto High Reaches, where a brown dragon--that most dastardly of colors, ever the arch nemeses of greens!--claimed him as his very own. And that's where it *began*, y'see. For after that... Martigan became M'rgan, and he and his Ularrith were free ever after t'fly all over Pern, terrorizing the world's people and most especially its women." Kassima makes a few broad gestures with the Device as she declaims all of this in rather direful tones; after a pause for breath, she wets her throat with a gulp of wine and resumes. "However, his reign of terror could not last indefinitely. One day, he returned to Ruatha, that land where it all had begun. Two stunningly beautiful rider women of grace and wit beyond all comparison were there, and he being him, and a man, and all, he set his sights upon them and swore to conquer their spirits."

Shawnah just stares at the... contraption.. Kassima pulls out, stopped in her tuber-peeling mid-slice. "Umm.. ouch.." is all she mutters as she listens.

Kichevio adds in a stage whisper. "At least one of them was a greenrider, of course. We defend the world from brownriding scourges." Without skipping a beat, she nods politely in Yashira's direction. "Present company excepted, of course, unless you _like_ the idea of being a brownriding scourge."

"Depends on what I'm scourging," Yashira says with a grunt.

"For example? As scourge-ees, I mean?" I'sai can't help but wonder.

Cheni appropriately gasps as she follows the gestures with ever widening eyes. She does look to Yashira to gauge how the former hunter might feel about being called scourge. No knives flashing yet, except in the tuber carving, and she relaxes to listen on.

Kassima sets her wineskin back down, and uses the now-free hand to filch a mark piece from her belt-pouch. This she brandishes with as much enthusiasm as the Emasculator, waving it at the audience as if it were actually significant. "And lo! At first, he was *successful*! From Kindre, glorious rider of Benden's youngest queen, he won a mark in a wager, and it did make him throw out his chest and strut and swagger all about the Grounds proclaiming his masculinity! That was when the Vendetta began, for that goldrider and her companion--who was, aye, a greenrider, thankee Kich--could scarce allow such a travesty to continue. Nay. They put their heads together and determined that they would *fight* the brownie menace until such time as the Dawn Sisters fell flaming from the sky to shatter all the earth." The mark piece is tucked away, its part in the saga evidently completed.

"Stupidity. I would like to scourge that," Yashira says. "And people who insist you dress up for a Gather. They need scourging something fierce."

"If you can scourge stupidity, Yash, I want to watch. And have a turn with the whip." Kichevio does not comment on the dressing-up part, however, since she-who-has-five-Gather-gowns has no room to comment. "And so the Menace is menaced." She takes a bite of cake, listening avidly and waving to Corwin with a smile.

I'sai's brows get all twisty, "Who makes you dress up for a Gather? That takes all the relaxing right out - " and angles a look at where that mark had disappeared before Kich's wave catches his attention, and he waves his tuber likewise.

Cheni giggles, drawing her knees up to her chest as she listens, enraptured. The comments from the audience only garner an occasional glance.

Corwin quietly slips into the cavern. He hovers near the entrance, but as he's caught by Kichevio's wave, he comes all the way inside. "Hello," he comments as he takes a few moments to look around.

Yashira raises a hand to greet Corwin, then snorts. "Nobody makes me. They just prattled a lot."

"And just prattling will make you do it," I'sai says, next thing to a scoff. "Oh, and stew- ... Corwin, it's story time."

Kassima stands, now, in an abrupt flurry of plaid, the better to pace about her small section of clear cavern floor. "They engaged him in sortie after sortie," she announces, emphasizing each use of that word with a grand wave of the Device. "Slowly but surely, they began t'wear down his machismo; they made him know what 'twas t'lose. Yet he would nay give in. He insisted that *skill*, his skill, was a greater force than luck! He attributed each victory of his to his power and prowess and virility, nay that virility *should* have aught t'do with whether you play pin the tail on the dragon well, but nay anyone ever accused the brownie of being logical. Finally, though, the first great battle in the war was won when the outrageously gorgeous and clever greenrider did drag him down from his dragon when he visited, and pin him flat on his back, and threaten the very thing--things--whichever that made him a man!"

And at this point, for extra effect, Kassi nudges the blanket covering her box-o'-props aside enough to give her access to one particularly *large* prop, which she holds up in proud display.

"It's sort of the whole, uh, package," Yashira says. "They're sensitive about all the bits.".

"I think Elauren's been taking lessons from Kassima.." Shawnah mutters, an amused grin on her face as she listens, while whittling away at her tuber. Another amused glance is sent to the group of riders - and, yep, the unmistakable sound of metal scraping metal sounds from her direction, as her ignored knife hits her thimble. Wincing, she stabs her knife into the tuber, which right now just looks like.. a slightly smaller, skinless, /lumpy/ tuber, and then waves Corwin over as he come in. "Come hear Kassima tell one of her stories!" she calls softly to him, "I think it has something to do with cut--" and she cuts short at the next phase of the story, eyes practically bugging out now.

Kichevio makes several undignified noises that would be laughter if her mouth wasn't full. Greenriders vindicated again. "That usually gets them to listen to logic," she notes rather smugly, once she's swallowed. "Great look of mortal terror on his face, too."

"If you say - " I'sai reflexively ducks as yet another prop's held up, forcing his shoulders to relax upon identifying it; he doesn't look entirely away as he leans toward Shawnah enough to quietly ask, "What was that, 'Elauren,' something about her?"

Cheni nods, leaning over to whisper in agreement. "Dangly bits, they hold dear." Having long forsaken her tuber whittling, she listens with undivided attention, or as undivided as one can be with so many interesting things being said all around her. The poor girl would be better off if her neck could spin as she tries to look to each speaker. She moves to make room for Corwin by the fire.

	M'rgan's Fright

	Pristine canvas stretched tight over a neat wooden frame
	bears the artwork and signature of an artist by name
	of Channa from Ruath, a personal friend
	of many a rider from the Weyr Benden.
	T'was a certain Greenrider that visited one night
	and asked Chan to paint the tale of M'rgan's Fright.
	Channa quickly complied after story was told
	and now on this canvas does the action unfold:	
	On a chill winter's day, when the clouds marred blue sky
	- the very one day 'fore Green Lysseth would fly - 
	a few Benden Riders were taking a break,
	playing in the snow by the Benden Weyr Lake.
	A cluster of snowmen - /not/ the usual sort - 
	had been built in the back of a sturdy snow fort.
	There was Kindre and Meli, Karise and K'nan,
	and of course, also Kassima, with a knife in her hand.
	Lysseth was looking two shades too green;
	Brown Ularrith was present, though his Rider not seen.
	But WAIT - there in the snow, lying flat on his back
	was the errant M'rgan, about to be Kassi-attacked.
	The Greenrider's foot was placed square on his chest;
	she was grinning like a maniac - and as for the rest...
	They were all doubled over, could say nary a word
	because their mirth and laughter was the only thing heard.
	Except for poor M'rgan (he was frozen in place
	with a look of sheer terror etched on his pale face).
	His fear stricken eyes were locked on the knife
	in Kassi's raised hand - she looked ready to slice!	
	The moral of this painting -and there is one for learning- 
	is: When for a Weyr visit you have been yearning,
	don't come around when the Riders are proddy
	if you'd like to keep every part on your body! 

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