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.

10/13/02

Candidate's Barracks

This cavern has a rather low ceiling, with many openings for air, since this becomes an abode for a large number of people before every hatching. Every inch of the floor is kept clean, although little of it can be seen due to the many rows of cots that fill most of the space. The central part of the cavern is rather dim, as most of the glows are on the walls. Little decoration is evidenced except for a few personal effects. You wouldn't call it uncomfortable unless the unusually low ceiling for a weyr makes you claustrophobic. On the wall, scrupulously maintained, is a list of Candidates and their assigned chores for the day. Tampering with it is rumored to be an offense punishable by death or latrine duty for the rest of one's life.

A large smile crosses Ryklin's face as he replies to Rivaar's question. Irianth and Riolth's clutch. The Weyrwoman's own daughter was standing at the time." he notes casually.

"I know!" Rivaar shows him a grin. "I won a few bets, that hatching.. though I got there a little late. I was deep in the tunnels.. the dragon noise sounded so weird in there, echoing." He imitates a thrumming, boomy sound. "Ruhhhhrrooom---oom oom oom... Like that." He scratches at his ankle with a toe. "I've seen so many hatchings.. it'll be different, and weird, I guess, to see one from the sands. The front row to beat all front rows."

Ryklin nods. "Yeah, you could say that... shards, poor Joshi."

Ryklin grins, and adds for the benefit of some of the littler candidates "Dragon's to the left of me..." looming menacingly... "Dragon's to the right of me. "Another lurch towards another candidate. "And here I am."

Cheni wanders into the barracks with a semi-glazed look on her face, nearly stumbling over a cot that had been moved just a tad, breaking her usual pattern. She drops onto her cot and mumbles. "Uncles should be segregated." Rivaar's grin widens, and he's nodding his head vigorously. The girl's plodding arrival catches his attention, and he shows her a curious look over his shoulder. "What happened'a you?"

Cheni tosses her pillow in the air and lifts her head just as the pillow lands back down, nicely fluffed for her to rest upon. "Oh, just one of the older uncles, he got a kick out of trying to trip me up when I was carrying extra blankets into his cavern. The other uncles thought it was really funny." She snorts. "Took me three times as long to do my job as it would have if they just left me alone."

Ryklin looks over curiously, and then looks away quietly. "It's amazing some of us can even stand, let alone move when we come in off our chores." he notes observantly.

Rivaar looks amused to hear this, propped up on an elbow as he glances at Cheni. "They like to bother pretty girls," he says, and grins. "They've been doin' it for Turns. And maybe more than that, because some of them look pretty ancient, if you ask me."

Ryklin snerks, then shakes his head as he starts to chuckle. "At least the pass before this one wouldn't you say Rivaar."

Cheni scowls. "Well, then let them go find a pretty girl for them to bother. I have better things to do with my time." She sniffs. "I mean, I could be here chewing my fingernails down to my elbows as I wonder when those eggs are going to quit baking and be done already!"

"But you're pre-- " Rivaar starts to say, before his face scrunches. He opts for, instead: "Could you really fit your arm that far down? Wouldn't that taste funny?"

Ryklin picks up a boot and starts polishing. "What's that you said there Riv? Coulda sworn it sounded like 'pretty'" he comments idly.

Cheni pinkens a little and sticks her tongue out at Ryklin. "Leave the poor kid alone and no, Rivaar, the elbows taste rather like ..hmmm, wherry? That's what I feel these days, scattered every which way. I swear if I get another note from Braddle, I'll scream."

"I was GO-iing to say," Rivaar huffs, tossing his head. "Pretty weird. I mean, she knows what her elbows taste like! And they taste like wherries! How many girls do you know go runnin' around with their elbows in their mouth? ...that worried healers aren't chasing after? Huh?"

Ryklin chuckles. "Well, the lad does have a point." states Ryklin, grinning at Cheni's expression. "Especially when it's such a cute shade of pink."

Cheni lifts her head again and whips out her pillow, launching it with good aim towards Ryklin but laughs as Rivaar only makes matters worse. If she was closer, she'd ruffle his hair but instead shakes her head. "I am unique. I don't like people sticking labels on me saying I am this or that, so thank you for the compliment, Rivaar."

Ryklin chuckles, reaching out a long arm to catch the pillow before it gets to him, and he sends it winging back. "Heads up Cheni, I think you're gonna need this - you look totally out of it."

"Keep telling yourself that," says Rivaar. "You Elbow Eating Weirdo." Despite himself, his teeth show in a grin, and his freckles blend in when he blushes.

Cheni looks up at the "heads up" call and catches the pillow back again. "Well, I'd sleep if it wasn't so noisy around here, it's been worse than the runner fields at rutting time around here lately." She smirks at Rivaar. "At least I don't go telling the goldrider that I don't want an egg from her lifemate's butt."

Rivaar grins wider, dimples surfacing. "'Ren deserves it, anyways," he says. "And I didn't say that. I was just surprised that such pretty things could come out of her dragon's butt. Because her dragon is ugly, just like her. She popped out of that egg, looked around, saw Tarien and her big ole butt, and went: Well this isn't going to be tough at all."

Like all fourteen turn year old boys, the young Igenite is an expert on butts, ugly big sisters, and their stupid dragons.

Bianca trudges in from the hallway outside, muttering something under her breath in that all-too-audible way of hers about "dust," "empty weyrs," and "strange and disturbing things they sharding leave behind." Thus it is that she catches the tail end of Rivaar's comment and stops abruptly to blink, and then to stare at him.

Rivaar feels eyes on him, and turns a look to Bianca. "What?" he says. A thick eyelashed blink. "She /does/ have a big ugly butt. Ask.. " He nods in a gesture that indicates the entire male population of the Weyr. "Anyone."

Cheni is rendered speechless but she sits straight up and stares at Rivaar in disbelief. Her jaw opens as if she was about to speak, her lips even move but she can only blink, then stare again for a long time. "How could you say that about a Gold? They are beautiful."

Bianca recovers quickly enough and blinks back at Rivaar, then sniffs delicately. It seems she's recovered her powers of mobility, because she resumes walking, heading over toward her cot. "Well, aren't -you- just a wealth of opinions." Hello, pot? This is kettle... "And anyway, -all- dragons have big, er, hindparts. They're big -creatures.-"

Cheni shakes her head. "I'll never get used to this place, good thing I'm going home in a couple of days or a sevenday at the most." She doesn't sound quite as convinced as usual, however.

Rivaar uses Bianca's comments to formulate his own reply. "See?" He nods. "All dragons, even queens, have big butts. There's nothing wrong with that, Cheni." He sounds a little patronizing, here, and makes sure that he does so, just so he can show everyone weird and dumb girls are sometimes. Then, taking a little heart, he adds, “I’m sure you'll Impress, Cheni. Maybe you'll get a halfway all right looking one."

Set.

Cheni snorts and rolls her eyes, covering her head with her pillow. A muffled. "Men!" can be heard from the depths. "Hello Bianca."

Pwert emerges from behind the curtain across the entrance.

Bianca pauses again before reaching her cot to peer back at Rivaar, arching one eyebrow delicately. "Somehow I -don't- think that's what you meant, though," she points out. She shrugs this off though, lifting a hand to wave toward Cheni. "Heya."

Pwert wanders in to the barracks in full winter gear. Mitts with melting snow dripping off on to the ground. Snow still clings to the tendrils of hair sticking out from under toque. "Snowrider making is fun!" says the little boy, excited as usual, "I wish sand was as easy to shape as snow." He seems mostly to be talking to himself, but rather loudly. His eyes drift significantly on to Cheni for a moment as he speaks, and then, he runs back to his cot, quickly shedding the clothes before the snow melts more to make them soaked, "Hey, all. Whatchall doing? Done all your chores yet?"

Ryklin grins at Pwert - wet it down first." he comments, idly.

Cheni can't see much as her face is currently covered by her pillow but she does over hear the lad's entry. "Hey Pwert, done my chores." Needing air, she lifts the pillow and places it back on the cot. "At least sand doesn't drip in after you." She looks at the trail that follows Pwert.

"Cheni eats elbows," Rivaar tells Pwert, an offhanded report to bring him up to speed. He's propped up on his own elbows on his cot, his feet dangling in the air. Pwert shakes his head at Cheni, "You should know sand does. Especially if it’s wet. It falls off you, and leaves a trail as you walk. Besides," he comments dryly, "Snow doesn't hurt as much if it gets in your eyes."

Ryklin grins, as he finishes polishing up his boots yet again.

Cheni shivers. "But it hurts when someone throws you in a snow bank, that runner just in from Telgar Hold, for example."

Alonna blinks waking up from her nap and stops mid-yawn to shiver in sympathy at Cheni's comment. "The snow is out to get you!"

Pwert chuckles softly, and nods, "I suppose so. But don't you just love playing in the snow? Last night some of the weyrchildren showed me how to make snowtunnels and forts. We had a little snowball fight. It was great! I wish we had snow in Igen." he says disappointedly. He then, having gotten fully out of his outdoor clothes, looks on his cot, "Hey! It's another package from Livia." he says excitedly as he reads the tag, and opens it hurriedly. His eyes wide and his mouth waters as he sees its contents, "Klah cookies! Woah. Getting my hair scrubbed was worth this." he lifts one out in one hand, and offers to those nearest to him, "Want one too?"

Alonna nods eyeing the food "Sure!"

Pwert hands Alonna a cookie firmly, and smiles, a little bit of concern forming on his brow, "They say the eggs could hatch any day now. They've been saying that for a while - When they're hatched, do we still have to do chores, d'you think? Until we go home, or decide to stay?" He seems to be asking Alonna, and then, shaking his head, he surrenders the cookie to her, "It seems like it's never going to happen. I feel like asking if we're there yet, but this isn't a runner ride." Seeming solemn for a change, Pwert retreats from Alonna, and into his cot, seeking the solace of his cookies.

Cheni grins at the care package. "Cookies? Klah cookies?" She manages to stir herself from her cot and wander over for a look-see. "Only thing I get from home are nasty little notes from the Holder." She shakes her head good-naturedly as Pwert rambles on. "You know, any more sweetener in you and we'll have to tie a string around your ankle to pull you back down to be with the rest of us."

Elauren grumbles, rubbing her eyes as she steps from her cot. "Jays, can't a person catch a nap after a hard morning's work?" the smell of food, however, hits her nostrils. "What's this?" she asks, a little more good-naturedly now.

Pwert chuckles a little bit at Cheni - he can't stay solemn for long, "They're not from home. Here, try one. I wonder if Livia made them herself?" He stands up and offers the box to Cheni, "Go ahead. Choose one. They're pretty good."

N'var emerges from behind the curtain across the entrance.

Alonna blinks for a moment nibbling on the cookie and listening to Pwert talk. Watching him retreat to his cot she calls out "Don't worry I'm sure they will hatch soon Pwert! An ya we will probably still have to do chores..." She nibbles some more on the cookie.

Cheni grins as she takes a cookie and bites into it. "Klah and sweetener, what a combination." She quirks a brow as Pwert mentions Livia. "You got a crush on her or something, you mention her a lot; she's the one with the really short hair, right? Friend of the junior weyrwoman over there at Igen?"

Pwert scratches his head slowly, and nibbles a bit more on his cookie, "A crush? What's that?" he shakes his head, "I'm not sure about the friend bit, but she's the lady that used to tackle me and wash my hair whenever I visited Igen. She helped me get it all straight and shiny for hatching, see?" he displays his hair, fairly long now that's untangled, and nice and clean.

Nimiriel makes her way into the Candidate Barracks, and pauses by the door, observing once more, but not for long. "Candidates. You may want to change into your robes."

Shawnah is sitting on her cot, idly listening to the conversation going on around her. With the sudden mass entrance, she glances up, nods politely, and then... blinks.

Alonna stops nibbling on her cookie and shoves the rest of it in her mouth with an ERP! Jumping off her cot she rummages around in the clothes chest flinging things this way and that looking for her robe.

Already having been nosing about under his cot, Rivaar's head shoots up, bonking against the frame. A questioning ow? is made. Then, blinking, he ducks back under and makes a sideways grab for his robe.

Elauren's just gotten out of her cot after napping. She hurriedly begins making her cot when all the people begin to enter. She pauses as the Weyrwoman speaks though. "Oh?"

Cheni smirks and is about to fill Pwert in on the wonders of a crush when she becomes aware Nimiriel has spoken and she looks about the room, for a moment until it sinks in. Robes. Robes. "Robes?" She squeaks, coughing on a bite of cookie as she scrambles over two cots in a hurdle fashion to nose dive on her own cot, looking upside down as she pulls out the small press underneath. She grabs at her robe and leather thong.

Saeliena is curled up upon her cot, sleeping soundly. It doesn't matter the hour, or the amount of chatting around her...she's deep into dreamland. As Nimiriel enters, another candidate takes it upon himself to shake the slumbering girl, causing her to start and flutter her eyes. "Wha-?" She questions sleepily, fists rubbing against her eyes. With the mention of 'robes', Saelie tilts her head in confusion, mind still sleep-addled.

Alonna mumbles of "Robe, robe robe..." are heard as she digs in the chest.

L'han has the audacity to look highly amused by the scurrying. At least he's keeping his mouth shut. For now.

Nimiriel clears her throat, steps away from those closest to her, and bellows, "NOW!" Then, a little more quietly, "In case I wasn't clear enough the first time."

Pwert blinks at Nimiriel for a moment, then hurriedly finishes his cookie, "Speak of the dragon -" he murmurs, and heads back to his cot, quickly struggling into his robe. Whether or not it’s on backwards is impossible to tell -both sides seem identical. He looks over at the girl next to him, and whispers, "Can you help me put my hair back?" with a blush. The girl, though looking nervous, helps him get it up, and he in turn helps her. Shedding his socks quickly, he sits on the edge of the cot while waiting for further orders.

Bianca had been fiddling around with her own cot, trying to get the topmost blanket to hang evenly and generally not paying attention... and thus it isn't until the wave of activity has rippled through to surround and surpass her that she notices. But when that echo of 'robes' -- and that very audible 'NOW' -- reaches her, she shrieks and dives for her press.

"Yes ma'am," Elauren belts back, quickly rifling through her press to begin dressing.

Shawnah jumps up at that, tripping over various and sundry critters on her way to her trunk. Fumbling with the latch a few moments, she at last gets it open, pulls out her robe, and goes to changing into it.

Corwin looks up from where he's stretched out on his cot. He listens for a moment and watches the scurrying around him before he pushes himself up and moves to his press. Robe withdrawn, he begins to quietly change.

Alonna jerks up out of the clothing chest robe in hand. Vibrating with energy she attempts to pull the robe on, eventually getting it in place. She then starts to hunt for her hair tie. "Hair tie, hair tie, hair tie..."

Cheni fumbles as she peels off her dress and under-petticoats, socks and shoes, not necessarily in that order. A ribbon goes fluttering across to the cot across from her as she pulls the dress up and over and pulls on the robe. Yanking at her braids to release them, she shakes her head as she fingers through her wavy hair, letting it fall back as she ties it into a runner tail.

Rivaar dresses himself with some alacrity, and after a moment, is switching his arms in the sleeveless openings, as if he had felt he had put it on backwards.

N'var actually jumps too. Apparently he wasn't expecting Nim to shout like that, and he takes an involuntary step backwards before clearing his throat and composing himself. Giving the candidates an 'I meant to do that' look, he nonchalantly stands near Nimiriel.

Cheni

A delicate heart-shaped face, the features soft, but refined by an active lifestyle, portrays the essence of this young woman of 17 turns. Her figure shows definite womanly curves through the light layering of muscle. Her wavy dark brown hair, released from her braids, tied into a simple runnertail, is held with a bleached white leather thong. Her deep brown eyes, under long, dark lashes, seem larger than normal, her pallor pale, allowing her normally fine dusting of freckles that caresses the nose and cheeks of her cream and klah hued skin to be more noticeable.

She manages to wear the plain white, sleeveless robe of Candidate with a semblance of grace. As her robe is unhemmed, it falls just between Cheni's calves and bare ankles and does not hinder her as she walks barefooted upon the sands. The stitches are neat and even, obviously made by someone with more experience and perhaps patience than its present wearer.

Alonna gives a squeak of joy as she finds her hair tie under her cot and pulls her long hair back tightly.

Ryklin nods politely to the weyrwoman and the other riders entering, and glances around the barracks slowly. Finally, he moves, a fluid shift that propels him casually towards the foot of his bed and rummaging through his footlocker. As the others are too busy with their own concerns, he isn't shy about stripping down and tugging on the white robe that he drags out, then he settles back down on his cot to tug off his boots and wait.

Saeliena blinks. Simply blinks. Then her mind connects the words, and clumsy fingers fumble to procure her robe from under her cot. This done, the girl dons the garment, tossing off other clothes with little care for the males in the room. Once safely inside her robe, Saelie reaches for a small pouch beside her bed. From this she takes a single strip of hide, which is used to bind up her wispy yellow hair. Then she flops back on the bed. Why'd she have to do that, now?

Bianca doesn't spend long looking for her robe: it was neatly folded as the top layer of clothing in her press, with a small tie coiled on top of it. These are snatched off, and after looking around plaintively for a moment; she begins an odd ritual of partially undressing and tugging on of the robe. Her dress comes off and she turns to face the wall, pulling up the shift beneath to her shoulders. Then the robe gets drawn on, and the previous layers removed.

I'sai emerges from behind the curtain across the entrance.

Alonna hops around on one foot trying to pull her boot off. Falls on her rear and removes her boots there!

I'sai enters after Ursa, staying close to the Weyrlingmaster’s black heels.

Shawnah at last gets out of her clothes and into her robe. Kicking off her shoes, she shivers as her feet touch the cold stone floor, and then glances around. "And here we go again.." she mutters under her breath.

K'ran lurks at the barracks' entryway, perhaps just beyond the threshold but not quite out of sight -- and a nostalgic wince dances through his expression for Nimiriel's bellow, though it quickly vanishes into tense antsyness.

Cheni, after two tries, finally gets a simple knot in her runnertail's leather thong and sits on the edge of her cot, nervously rubbing sweaty palms on the hem of the robe.

Elauren silently undresses and squirms into her robes, undoes her braids and ties her hair back with a wherhide strand. Once dressed, she looks down, doing a once over. Her lips twitch as her gaze lingers upon her crooked hemline. She shakes her head, to shake off whatever thought was running through her mind and gazes around the room.

Alonna paces back and forth in a short row next to her cot, unable to contain her excitement.

Corwin pulls on his robes and sits down on the edge of hit cot.

Ursa isn't here for a speech. She stands with her assistant; arms crossed, legs slightly apart, watching the chaos, nerves and excitement with an unreadable face.

Tarien slips into the barracks just in time to catch Nimiriel's bellow, which elicits a wince and a wry smile. She steps off to the side, offering warm, encouraging smiles to the Candidates about, excitement in every line of her body.

Nimiriel clears her throat, again. "Line up by twos, please. We'll call you out two at a time. Once you're there, do *not* forget to bow to the dam and sire. Be mindful; dodge out of the way if you deem it necessary. Do not touch a dragon unless you have Impressed him or her. And remember," she adds, her voice going a bit more gentle, "we've sincerely enjoyed having you with us, no matter what happens out there."

Pwert wanders over to Cheni, "Can I be your partner?" He asks quickly.

P'tod emerges from behind the curtain across the entrance.

Public announcement: Tarien announces "It's time! The dragons at Telgar have started humming, and the Candidates are rapidly changing into their robes, and the eggs have started to rock! All are invited to attend the hatching of Mirrath and Indrath's eggs; +go tgw-galleries, +watch on tgw-sands, or, for those adragonback, 'hc' from central bowl airspace. The hatching will start soon!"

P'tod comes hurrying in, out of breath, He looks around for Ursa, but sees I'sai first, and strides over to join him with a smile, reaching out to clap the other man on the shoulder.

Bianca finally gets her robe smoothed out and steps out of her boots, shuddering at the sudden cold of the floor. Then she snatches the ribbon up from where it had fallen, and after another long moment of contemplation, followed by a rather mournful sigh, she lets her hair out of its coiled-back tail and lacy clasp. Then comes the struggle for a new, more simple tail, one that can be confined by the ribbon. Never the less, she DOES move to find a spot in the line.

Alonna blinks and her face falls as Pwert asks Cheni to stand with him.

Shawnah starts to head for Cheni, but when Pwert claims her first, she grins and instead vtol-lines for Corwin. "Can I be you Hatching buddy?" she asks with a wry grin.

Cheni nods as she clears her throat, looking up at the younger candidate. "I'd like that." She chews her lip, nodding to Nimiriel. "Yes'm."

Ursa flashes only a glance at I'sai, and remains somehow more motionless, if that is possible. She inclines her head to P'tod.

Rivaar has managed to undress and dress himself fairly adequately for being in a crowded room with many other candidates, numerous dragonriders, his mother, his father, and his big sister. Brushing some dust off himself, he quickly squeezes his way into the line beside Bianca. He shows her a quick grin.

I'sai'd leaned in to murmur briefly to Ursa, pale eyes dancing; when he straightens, it's to survey the candidates and nod briefly to those of Taralyth's - and then to turn, and laugh. "You made it, P'tod! What timing."

Saeliena frowns at her hands, mind slowly gathering up its scattered pieces. "Line up..." She repeats to herself, eyelashes fluttering. Line up, don't touch dragons unless you impress...there's almost a visible snap as the last two pieces fall into place. "Shards," the candidate mumbles, muscles tense. "It's time." She stumbles into line, staying as far back as she can...and keeping to herself.

Alonna looks around for a buddy...

Pwert falls into line with Cheni, shooting a nervous grin at her and Alonna, "I hope no one gets hurt - healers don't like that sort of practice, I bet." He tries to grin.

N'var clutches at a pair of old riders' gloves, idly tapping the side of his leg. He gives the candidates an encouraging smile, reaching out to mess Rivaar's hair up just a little more than usual.

Elauren trundles up towards the growing line of candidates. Her lip is a pursed flat line, arms crossed across her chest. She's not paired up with anyone yet, but falls into line next to someone.

Bianca gets most of her hair back, finally, and ties it with a defiant sort of a knot. Then and only then does she notice Rivaar, but she gives him a quick, brilliant smile. "I'm bad luck, you know," she babbles.

P'tod grins. "Sorry it took me so long. Humming caught me just coming out of the bath, so I had to find clean clothes and all that."

Alonna makes a face at the thought and nods at Pwert. Grinning at Cheni she adds to both of them "Good Luck guys!"

Cheni takes a deep breath and minces her way on the cooler tiles of the floor to stand with Pwert. "Thank you, Alonna, you too, may your lifemate find you upon the sands." She looks to a rider who stands nearby. "Did Braddle's Holder make it?"

Elauren flashes a subtle grin back Alonna's direction. "Guess this is it," she mumbles. There's a bit of tension in her drawling voice. "Good luck," she says in a more firm tone.

"Don't worry, I'm good," Rivaar replies to Bianca, picking at his robe. He turns a look up, and grins again. "I'll balance you out."

Saeliena lags towards the back, careful to keep the space beside her open. If there's any chance of being the odd candidate out, she's hoping it will be her. Though her mind is awake, her body seems to exude a certain lack of energy, seen in her slightly stooped form. She was rather rudely woken up, after all.

Alonna nods at Elauren "looks like it is! Thanks good luck to you to!"

K'ran nods once, quickly, to Nimiriel, and offers an uncharacteristically formal, "Yes, ma'am," before disappearing back into the caverns.

Bianca's brilliant smile wavers a bit, but she nods, mildly, to Rivaar. "I hope so," she tells him. "I -do- hope so."

Cheni swallows and gives I'sai a -how did he know?- look, her eyes wide as she swallows yet again, taking one last gulp from a waterskin passed to her by a fellow candidate.

Alonna falls silent, still vibrating in place.

"You gotta use the Necessary?" Elauren asks, gazing at the vibrating Alonna with concern.

"Run? Do they usually, here?" P'tod teases I'sai. "I'm sure they will be fine. And, it'll make a change. From all that snow and such. I can wear my Ista clothes."

Pwert grabs Cheni's hand tightly, "Whatever happens, it'll be alright. It's just another . . . life lesson right?" he asks with a miles, and moves closer to the candidate, "At least we get the best view, eh?"

Alonna stops vibrating and blinks at Elauren, then blinks again. "Ah, no..I'm just..well I want to get out there, you know tired of waiting?"

Shawnah turns away from Corwin, to peek over at Elauren at her comment. "/That's/ what I forgot!" she exclaims, making a face. "Ah well, it can wait. Now."

Marten shifts anxiously, tugging at his robe and trying to get the poorly sewn thing to hang comfortably.

Nimiriel moves over to a tapestry on the wall, and moves it aside to reveal a doorway, which she opens. "As I call your names, you will head two-by-two onto the sands. Please remember, bow to the sire and dam!"

Ursa inclines her head towards the white-clad herd. "We'll follow them out," she tells her assistants.

Elauren bobs her head up and down at Alonna, her lips curling into a subtle grin. "Eh, me too. Just checking though. I figured someone might forget," she replies, nodding at Shawnah.

Cheni blinks. "I guess we didn't dust very well in here after all, I didn't know that was there." She squeezes Pwert's hand lightly. "It's ok, I'll be fine, you'll be fine, we'll all be fine."

Saeliena exhales in relief. She is, indeed, left behind at the end of the line. There is safety in being alone. She shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, eyes slipping shut again. With forced control, she holds them open, rubbing them with her fists. If she's not awake now, she will be in a moment.

Nimiriel looks out over the line of Candidates. "Cheni and Pwert, please make your way out to the sands."

Alonna grins at Elauren one more time, then looks around trying to take everything in at once.

You enter the passage to the hatching sands. The tunnel goes to the north some ways, and then curves, heading eastward.

Hatching Sands

This is the immense cavern containing the hatching grounds of Telgar Weyr. It stretches for several hundred feet across, and even farther in length. To the north is the large mound of sands used by the queens for their clutches. Looking up along the high walls of the cavern, the ledges where dragons and their riders observe the hatchings are visible. Much of the eastern wall is dominated by the galleries, where row upon row of tiers are capable of seating hundreds of people.

Contents:

DRAGONS: Indrath Mirrath

PLAYERS: Tarien K'ran Cheni



Obvious Exits:

Path to Barracks Galleries

In the Barracks> "Just a few, but -memorably-," I'sai deadpans back, and spares a moment to tilt a wink Cheni - and Pert - 's way; then, though, "Guess we'd better shut up and look official," and straightens from his slouch to copy Ursa's stance, trying to mirror the same tilt to her head.

In the Barracks> Elauren's face goes flat as Cheni and Pwert disappear.

Cheni stumbles slightly, then looks around the sands, wide-eyed, her hand reaching for Pwert's. She stops however, to give a respectful bow to Mirrath and then to Indrath, then moves where she has been requested to stand.

In the Barracks> Ryklin smiles. "Don't worry Elauren, we'll all be out there soon with them." catching the look on his fellow candidates face.

In the Barracks> Nimiriel says "Elauren and Alonna, you're next."

In the Barracks> "Sooner than I thought," Elauren replies. She nods at Alonna.

In the Barracks> Alonna nods and gives a smile to Elauren before heading out.

Pwert squeezes Cheni's hand even tighter as he exits out onto the sands, and then, stepping forward a moment, he bows formally to sir and dam. Slowly as he lifts his head, his eyes drift to the eggs before him, "Wow! They're really rocking, aren't they Cheni? Do you think they're dancing to the humming?" he asks her quietly.

In the Barracks> Saeliena hisses under her breath, heart pounding like a drum. Her gaze shifts to the candidates in front of her. Can't they hear it, it's so loud? It seems, however, that it is only her brain that is pounding out the endless tune of: 'I won't impress, I won't impress, why am I doing this, I won't impress...'

In the Barracks> Nimiriel watches the next two walk out. "Shawnah and Corwin, your turn."

In the Barracks> Corwin quietly waits his turn. When he name is called, he makes his way towards the sands.

Alonna enters wide-eyed, and looks around as if trying to take everything in at once. Stopping she bows to the Sire and Dam before moving on to take a spot on the sands next to Pwert and Cheni.

In the Barracks> Shawnah just watches the candidates as they head out, already starting to shift from foot to foot. And then when her name is called, she gives Corwin a look and heads in herself.

K'ran's moved to the rear of the sands, well out of the way of both dragons -- and opposite the candidates, where he's unlikely to be mistaken by a hatchling for one of them. While shifting his weight restlessly from foot to foot, he wonders of Tarien, with an uneasy smile, "Ready?"

In the Barracks> Rivaar runs his hands through his hair, itching at the place where he had, some sevendays ago, gotten a piece of candy stuck there. He waits.

Elauren steps out onto the sand with Alonna, grimacing as the heat sinks into her arches. She pauses in passing of Indrath and Mirrath, giving the sire and dam a respectful bow. That dutifully taken care of, she trundles across the sands to join the growing semi-circle about the eggs.

In the Barracks> Nimiriel says "Next... Rivaar and Bianca!"

Tarien stands over near Mirrath, beaming, watching as some of the eggs start to wobble. "As I'll ever be," she replies to K'ran, with a shaky smile of her own.

In the Barracks> Bianca whimpers audibly as her name is called and closes her eyes tightly, if only for a heartbeat. She doesn't stay put long, though, but launches off toward the sands. "Here goes."

In the Barracks> Rivaar turns Bianca a look, his hand still in his shaggy hair. He blinks, and then nods, starting off.

In the Barracks> N'var eyes Rivaar quietly as he walks by. He nods to Bianca as well, smiling at both.

Shawnah walks onto the sands, just behind Corwin. After giving a quick curtsey to Indrath and Mirrath and taking a deep breath, she moves to find a place among the candidates.

Corwin slowly strides out beside Shawnah. When he reaches the appropriate point, he stops, giving a bow to both Indranth and Mirrath in turn. That done, he moves to take his place in the semi-circle of candidates.

In the Barracks> Nimiriel closes her eyes briefly as the latest two Candidates pass by. Then, she takes a deep breath, and carries on. "Marten and Ryklin, please."

K'ran tips a look toward Indrath -- who's busy glowering as balefully as he can manage as the candidates filter in -- and then decides better than to try and calm the bronze with more than a quiet-voiced, "Easy," as he sidles closer to the queenrider and offers *her* a furtive hand to hold. "I'll be here, hey?"

Bianca lingers for just a heartbeat just beyond the barrack tunnel to look around, long enough to take a breath. She curtsies then, rather crisply, to Mirrath and Indrath, and skitters off to take up position at one end of the forming line.

In the Barracks> Ryklin nods, stepping off the bed lightly, and looking at Marten. "Lets do it then." he says, quietly, as he strides over to the weyrwoman, and past.

In the Barracks> Marten jerks his head up, almost surprised at the sound of his own name. He steps up readily, glancing just briefly at Ryklin. "Good luck," he murmurs as he heads out.

Rivaar arrives just behind Bianca, touching her on the elbow when she pauses. He, too, pays a bow to clutch dam and clutch sire, and moves to where the others are gathered on the sands.

Ryklin moves onto the sands almost casually, pausing only to execute an elegant bow to the dam and sire waiting on the sands, before he moves to join the others gathering about the cluster of shells on the sands.

In the Barracks> Nimiriel says "And...Saeliena and Ryklin, please. Ursa, you and your staff should probably head out there as well."

Cheni laughs a tad too heartily. "Dancing?" She repeats shakily. "Dancing, maybe they will be in a good mood, if they are dancing." She wipes her free hand on her robe and whispers quietly to Pwert. "You are cutting off my circulation in my hand by the way." Her eyes never leave the eggs, going from mound to mound, then to the Dam and Sire. She bounces on her toes as if ready to run when need be.

Marten steps onto the sands with his head held high. He bows politely to the dam and sire before looking around and heading to stand with the others.

In the Barracks> P'tod nods to Nimiriel, then grins at I'sai and Ursa and follows the Candidates out.

In the Barracks> N'var leans over To Nimiriel, correcting, "Makran." He nods to Saeliena and Makran to step forward.

In the Barracks> Saeliena anxiously stumbles forward as her name is called, eyes set firmly on her feet. There's a breath, while she collects herself...and then the former traveller turns her feet towards the sands, head held high. She /will/ maintain her dignity, even if the prospects are hopeless.

In the Barracks> Ursa salutes the weyrwoman crisply, and nods to her assistants. For now, she's got nothing to say, she just strides purposefully out towards the sands after the last two go.

In the Barracks> Nimiriel coughs. "Er. Makran, right. Sorry."

In the Barracks> Saeliena heads out towards the hatching sands.

In the Barracks> I'sai tilts a grin after P'tod, but waits till Ursa's set before heeling -her- out.

In the Barracks> Makran looks to Saeliena and smiles cautiously. "Ready?"

Mirrath eyes the Candidates as they arrive, and lets out a quiet grumph -- there are far too many here for her taste. Still, most of her attention's captured by the wobbling eggs, and she leans briefly against Indrath, watching them. Tarien links her fingers with K'ran's, her smile strengthening a bit. "I know, it's just... ah. Ask me later," she murmurs, still smiling at those Candidates.

Alonna gives a worried look to Cheni and asks "Are you ok? How are you doing?"

In the Barracks> Nimiriel holds her hand out to N'var. "Shall we?"

In the Barracks> N'var watches the room empty and looks at Nimiriel. His smile softens. "Ready?"

In the Barracks> N'var nods.

Elauren's face warms up with the subtlest of smiles as she overhears Cheni's laugh. She herself turns, giving the galleries a cursory glance before gluing her eyes back onto the sands. "Shells, the whole Weyr and more are watching us and we're all half naked," she says to those around her.

Saeliena succeeds in being last, and thus is able to watch carefully as other execute their bows. Upon arrival, she pauses, doubling at the waist to produce some gesture of respect to both sire and dam. This done, she lets her feet lead her towards the end of the candidate line, careful to keep some distance from the rest.

Alonna snickers at Elauren’s comment and nods in agreement as she looks around wide-eyed.

Colorful Rings Egg shivers. Shimmies. Quakes. Calls attention to anyone looking its way, then...nothing. A series of long, quiet moments stretch onward. When this grand egg finally does tip over, showing its midnight blue base to the galleries, the movement seems almost an afterthought...or the calm before the storm.

P'tod nods politely to Indrath and Mirrath as he emerges behind several Candidates, urging them to hurry into place.

Makran steps on the sands, wincing slightly at the heat on the ground that he's unaccustomed to, especially after the cold winter. He bows to the dam and sire of the clutch, Mirrath and Indrath, then takes his place with the other candidates, shuffling his feet to get them used to the heat, staring at a couple of the eggs.

The dark sapphire blues that ripples and rolls like ocean waves capped by pale lilac begin to waver along the face of the Dark Flame Egg. It is not long before those waves crash and a tiny green hatchling makes her way into the world. Scanning the warm sands of Telgar's grounds and the Candidates circling them, she begins to make her way towards them. It's not long before a petite lass hailing from the Smithcraft catches her eye. "Amith!" The two are quickly ushered to the barracks.

L'han shoots a jaunty, smiling salute to Tarien and K'ran, adding in a bow for the clutchparents before jogging off to the outskirts of the Candidates.

Pwert eases up on the pressure on Cheni's hand, and begins to shift his feet. He grasps Alonna's hand lightly. "Amith, is it? A good match there, don't you think?"

I'sai enters hard on his Weyrlingmaster’s heels, starting to unfasten the buttons to his vest once they reach the heat of the sands. Afterward, he glances from her to P'tod, and takes up equidistant spacing where he can keep an eye on those candidates, those hatchlings, and their claws - "Shells! One -already-."

Alonna jumps slightly as her hand is taken by Pwert. "Yes I think so" She says still awed by her first sight of a dragonet.

Ursa is as impassive and without comment on the sands as she was in the barracks. She stands at the back, again arms crossed, back straight, legs slightly apart, her boots set firmly into the hot sand. Already they're hatching! She nods towards an assistant, who quickly steps forward to help the first pair.

Cheni, who hasn't yet blinked, so it seems, mutters sideways to Alonna in a hiss. "Watch the eggs, watch the dragons and make sure you don't step on my shardin' foot." As the first impression goes in lightening speed, her eyes do close, albeit briefly, then pop open. "She'll be glad."

Caught In Flight Egg shimmies, digging itself in farther and deeper. Shaking, it builds little ridges in the sand, and then stops, gathering its breath.

Shawnah folds her hands together, idly digging her bare feet into the hot sands - apparently not noticing the heat yet. She /does/ notice the eggs moving though, and dragons as they begin to pop out, ,her gaze jumping left and right at each movement catching her attention. "Already one!" she exclaims softly to herself.

Alonna blinks at Cheni's comments, and nods slowly to the other girl.

K'ran repeats, very softly, "Amith," as he watches after that tiny green and her ex-Smith lifemate. "That's the first. Jays."

Bianca whimpers quietly as the first egg turns into a hatchling, and makes a quick, desperate, frantic grab at the nearest hand: Rivaar's. "-One- down," she breathes.

Saeliena's brow twitches as the first egg hatches, worry lines written into her forehead. "Shards," she mutters to herself, carefully lengthening her distance from the other candidates with a little shimmy. "They aren't supposed to hatch this quick, are they?" Her question is to the air, for she certainly doesn't want interaction.

Elauren gasps as the first impression is made, a look of utter astonishment flashing over her face. "Jays, that was fast," she remarks.

Rivaar's eyes break away from Mirrath, cutting sideways to find the newest pair. "Heard it's good luck for a green first," he tells Bianca. "Some folks say it's good luck. Fighting dragons, you know."

Corwin gives a quick look around the sands to survey the eggs. He shifts his weight from his left to the right as he watches.

Colorful Rings Egg garners its strength, the shimmering waves of heat on the Sand giving the rainbowed streaks an illusion of deep, paced breathing. When movement returns, it is sudden and strong, with unmistakable determination. Tumultuous rocking forces it this way and that, leaving dunes in the sands. Its occupant is a whirlwind, have no doubt. A whirlwind with a mind to be loosed of this cramped confinement.

Alonna watches the eggs intently.

Tarien squeezes K'ran's fingers, softly, eyes gone very, very wide. "Amith. A green. They're -parents-," she notes to the bronzerider unnecessarily, sounding startled by this fact, for all that they've spent the past several months out on the sands.

Marten gives his robe a tug, still trying to get the thing to fit properly. Watching the eggs closely, he shifts his weight from foot to foot anxiously.

Ryklin stands almost oblivious to the heat of the sands underneath his feet. Well it would seem that way as the taller candidate isn't moving at all. His head inclines round finally to grin at the smith lass and her new green, and then he goes back to his motionless stance.

N'var catches sight of Tarien's reaction, and a nostalgic smile steals into his features. He reaches out to take Nimiriel’s hand and turns to watch the eggs.

Caught In Flight Egg starts to make tapping noises from inside itself. The tiny beak of something trying to break out echoes softly, just a little bit. Itty-bitty striations appear in one end. The egg stops moving again, then renews its wiggling, shaking and twisting with renewed vigor.

The dusky rose that spread out from the heart of the Pink Starburst Egg is also where the little creature within begins pushing its way into the world. Cracks spiral outward from that heart until talons break their way through. Falling out onto the sands is a lovely and large brown! He trips a few times on his way to the Candidates, but finds his footing well in time to lock with his lifemate. "Cindoth!" The call comes from a young man from the Bakercraft. "Of course - let's get you fed."

Bianca latches onto Rivaar's hand after a second equally desperate grab, and half-turns to look toward him. This gives her the opportunity to shift her weight, lifting one bare foot up almost completely from the sand. "Is it really? Good luck, I mean?"

As if knowing where the apex of its beautiful shell's rainbow is, the occupant focuses on one particular spot finally, trying to get free. Not unlike the circles of this, the Colorful Rings Egg, lattices of cracks spiral out from the midnight blue and continuing well past the lemony shades, this dragonet's home peels away rather neatly to reveal...

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