Living Caverns - Ista Weyr(#94RJa$)

Vibrant environs enclosed by smooth stone walls, these caverns are the very heart of bustling Weyr life. The largest is massive and designed to house almost the entire population of the Weyr at once, with tables and benches arranged in perfectly neat rows that run almost the entire length of the half-circle cave. Tapestries are flung from the ceiling, draping down in bright hues of Istan black and orange as well as colorful scenes of past heroics detailing all the fiery glory of Pernese history. Hearths line the walls, at least one of which constantly burning with a pot of stew and a pitcher of klah set there to keep warm.

Tunnels branch off from these central caverns, leading deeper into various parts of the Weyr. To the east lie the infirmaries, both human and draconic, beyond a small wooden door to minimize the noise that will filter through. West are the kitchens and the storerooms from which emanate delectable smells at nearly all hours of the day or night, drudges bustling to and from with dishes and platters. Stairs lead down into the lower caverns while a man-sized tunnel cuts through the stone and back out to the bowl. Smaller tunnels diverge here and there as well.

Contents:

Ranwen

Setarra

Vesta

Cymber

Jalani

Auntie Iza

Dragonpoker Table

Obvious exits:

Lower Caverns Stairs Kitchens Infirmary Bowl

Ista Weyr Living Caverns> Kassandra comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

Ista Weyr Living Caverns> Kassandra has arrived.

+lhelp is available.

Cymber grins at Vesta, finally moving to slice a thin strip of meat from off the larger hunk. "Won't have any friends left at the rate they're going." The tidbit's offered to the glowing-eyed lizard and then she angles her head after nodding and giving a polite smile to Setarra.

Kassandra returns to the living caverns, neatly clad and no longer smelling like fish. A friendly nod is given to all the folks already gathered in the area as she heads for the tables and a mug of juice. "H'lo."

Jalani winks at Cymber. "Oh, you know, I am sure that she won't actually eat her. Dragons really don't do that type of thing." She quirks her head at Kassandra's entry. "Good evening. How goes the sewing?"

Setarra says "Baker crafthall, most recently. I was just posted here. Well met, Vesta, and..." She pause, glancing at Cymber. "I don't think I've met you, either.""

Dakar comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Dakar has arrived.

Vesta looks away from Setarra momentarily to nod soberly at Cymber, "Aye." Back to Setarra with a hmm, "Baker, hmmm? Maybe I can talk you into some cooking lessons." She grins and then turns to give Sandi a bright greeting, "Hello, Sandi. What's the chore of the day?"

Menina comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Menina has arrived.

"Good thing," is Cymber's reply to Jalani, her thin smile holding mirth as she reaches to trim off another slice. "Name's Cymber, nice to meet you." Her eyes lift to Setarra in friendly study, then she offers the meat to the waiting lizard.

Serriena comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Serriena has arrived.

Menina heads down the stairs, deeper into the Weyr.

Menina has left.

Serriena heads down the stairs, deeper into the Weyr.

Serriena has left.

Kassandra turns around at the multiple greetings, and wrinkles her nose. "I wish 'twere sewin'," she says disgustedly. "'Twas fishin'. I don't mind fishin', but I always reek somethin' awful after doin' it. Yuck." She shudders expressively, taking a drink of her juice before crossing over to Cymber and company's table and taking a vacant seat. "'Tleast now I've had a bath."

Setarra grins. "Well met, Cymber." To Vesta, she replies, "Depends on what you want to make. I'm still on the basics; nothing fancy." To Kassandra and Jalani she adds, "Hello. I'm Setarra." So many new faces.

Ranwen crosses her legs and looks from one to the other, nodding to those who say hello, though most faces she doesn't recognize--it's that candidate knot that calls most attention, unfortunately, and she scowls.

Vesta sighs, "Its nice to have a bath daily. Couldn't always bath...I mean really bath in a tub...aboard the 'Glider unless we dropped anchor or went ashore. I'd almost forgotten what it was to be clean every evening afore bed."

Jalani nods, pleasantly. "Well met, Setarra, Jalani, rider to Green Meriath."

Quick-like, Cymber's deftly slashes a very-finely-made belt knife through the remaining wherry, then pushes the plate in Ember's direction. "Here I'd think you'd be the cleanest people of all out there on so much water." That's for Vesta, to whom she looks before turning her smile to Kassandra. "Grinding herbs doesn't seem all that bad, suddenly."

Ranwen has disconnected.

Kassandra grimaces. "Don' I jus' wish," she says, feelingly, before taking a sip of her juice. "I s'pose fishin' ain't too bad, though. End up smellin' like fish, but 'tis better'n other things ye could smell like."

Dakar has entered the cavern as well, not terribly far behind Kassandra. He stops just upon entering, pale eyes of blue falling upon Cymber, widening a minute fraction (but still an incredibly -noticeable- tiny fraction, and he is forced to compose himself, self-consciously straightening his tunic before he is forced to show no interest. He is, after all, barred from much right now, and that is the biggest sacrifice he has had to make. By far.

Vesta laughs, "A bowl of salt water and a wash cloth a day doesn't ease much of the grime from three or four sevendays asea. And when the rest of the crew tends to bathe only when we dock, its hard to make them see the importance of cleanliness." She sighs softly, and winks at Kassandra, "Like, perhaps, runners?"

Jalani hmms and quirks and eyebrow in Kassandra's direction."Maybe a little of those homemade creams your mother made that you talked of last night might be in order?"

Goran comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Goran has arrived.

Goldean comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

Goldean has arrived.

E'stan comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

E'stan has arrived.

"Seems a lot easier to just strip down and jump over the side for a swim a coupla times a day," remarks Cymber before looking questioningly from Kass to Jalani and back again. With Ember eating, she has more time to tend her mug, tugging it closer to herself while she listens.

Caraia comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Caraia has arrived.

Setarra smiles at Jalani. "Well met," she murmurs, not loudly since the conversation has moved on. She slides into an empty seat nearby.

Caraia walks in smiling, dusty and looking to be quite happy despite looking a total mess.

Kassandra wrinkles her nose up at Vesta before shooting Jalani an undecipherable glance. "Runners ain't too bad," she says. "Runner /muck/, on th' other hand, is pos'tively nasty."

Did E'stan really hear someone talking about stripping? His eyes widen, pausing at the edge of the opening to the cavern. Luckily he's far enough from Caraia to not bump into her.

Dakar carries a bag filled with numerous fishing accessories, and it is that bag which he hefts over a shoulder, making pains to keep himself straight-faced as he approaches Cymber, Kassandra, and the others. E'stan's own approach is from the opposite direction, and snares his eyes for a moment, the former smith looking upon the rider as if trying to memorize the very way the fellow moves. "Hello, everybody," he intones, though there is no mistaking the fact that he is speaking primarily to one person whose heart he has inadvertently broken.

Ranwen has connected.

Vesta grins at Cymber, "Well, that would work, if the ship wassna moving at a quick clip. You'd end up waiting for the ship to pick you up on the next run, and that could take a month or so. The denizens of the deep will of made quick work of you by then."

Caraia doesn't even notice anyone close to her as she is mumbling something away to herself as she walks to get herself some juice.

Ranwen raises her head. Hmmm, musta dozed off. That's what happens after swimming, usually. One get's sleepy. She raises her damp head and smiles, trying to catch up to the conversations swirling about her.

Goran makes it in from the beach, less sandy and just a bit damp now, looking about him briefly before moving to fill a plate with food before searching the caverns for a seat, flushing a bit as he catches sight of a group of bratlings who are..yes, they are laughing at him! He scowls in their direction and then ignores them. He's been the butt of their jokes all day, and he's done with it, he is. Instead, he heads towards Ranwen "Is this seat taken?" he asks her a bit abruptly, nudging an empty spot with his foot.

Goldean skips in, yes he skips into the caverns, all happy and stuff, no he didn't have too much klah, or too much juice, just happy happy is the way he'll be today. Watch out Weyr!

E'stan's brows raise, taking in the conversations in the Cavern. He, of course, gives Dakar a very odd look, almost questioningly, then moves to the side to watch with interest.

Cymber's expression fades into an interested confusion, but her smile only grows as she looks at Vesta. "I..didn't realize that ships moved so fast, I suppose. Not many ships dock in where I come from, you know." A wink from thick lashes and as she lifts up her klah, she's frozen in place by another, far-too-familiar voice. Dakar steals her attention, though she manages a polite nod for the man before taking that drink from her mug.

Setarra smiles all friendly-like at those entering, but otherwise holds her tongue and keeps her seat.

Ranwen shakes her head. "Be my guest," she says to Goran, smiling.

Kassandra's eyes dart from Cymber to Dakar, briefly, before she takes a drink of her own, settling comfortably down in her chair, wriggling a bit to find the best position.

Vesta pats a spot next to her and her net, which she's spread over her legs to mend the tears of, and smiles at Dakar, "Evening, Dak. How goes it?" Her eyes flit quickly to Cymber and then back to Dakar, eyes shining darkly over her flashing mending needle.

Goran nods, managing a smile as he sits down and hunches over, still able to hear those little giggles. He sends a rueful glance in Ranwen's direction, "I ain't cut out to be around children" he notes before waving to Cymber over the heads of a couple of crafters intently discussing their trade before digging into his food.

It starts out-of-doors. The Riders in the room would probably know first and foremost that someone of import has arrived, for they've got resources not available to anyone else herein. A commotion of some sorts finally can be heard in the raising of muffled voices in the tunnel which opens upon this chamber.

"I can -assure- you, Lord Holder, that we don't have your daughter here. There's no one like that in all the weyr." Troubled, the high pitched murmur finds its way into the room.

"I -know- the girl's here. Delani saw her last week, swears it. She's smart enough not to lie to the Lord of Tillek." That voice holds authority, rich and deep and pitched to carry. And carry it does. Prefacing the arrival of the two speakers into the room.

Say this for Dakar, he's a man of control. He's covered his own discomfort inside a shield of forged steel, lips pursed in perpetual contemplation as he opens his mouth to reply to Vesta, when words find his ears from outside. "Hello, Vesta.." comes the greeting from his own lips now, losing volume as it trickles off to nothingness at the end, and realization comes to his eyes and he glances dwn to Kassandra, before turning on his heel to face the door.

Setarra glances over to the door, and frowns. "What the...?"

Goldean stops dead in his tracks from all his giddieness and such and watches around. A look flashes toward the door where the obvious 'important' person stands.

Even the feasting lizard seems to blink. Ember angles his head and looks off to the door with a curiosity that still doesn't incite him to move from his place on the table. Cymber's just had time to return Goran's wave when her own attention is drawn sharply toward the door.

Ranwen nods to Goran. "I'm afraid children aren't my calling, either," she responds, adding a wink, before the door catches her attention.

"Oh, -no-." The words, quiet though they are, are full of absolute shock and turmoil as Kassandra sits, rooted to her seat, somehow managing to set her mug down before she drops it. Her eyes are wide with something so akin to panic that it might as well be the same emotion. Her gaze turns to the door as well, almost out of reflex.

Jalani rivets her attention on the entrance way. A quick darting look Kassandra's way and then back to wine sipping.

Caraia yawns as she pours her glass, she turns around realizing the crowd apparent in the living caverns is quite the size. Oh boy...crowds were never her forte in the least, she manages to sneak to a corner table.

Setarra's attention is caught by Kassandra, and her frown deepens. "Are you ok?"

It takes a second longer than most for Goran to catch on to the sudden tension; but then, he is eating. Need more be said. He smiles to Ranwen, an expression of derision on his face as he begins a long-winded tirade on the horrible specimens of humanity called children "Oh, aye, they...." And then tirade stops before it begins as he looks towards the sudden commotion....and the shocked utterance of Kassandra. What's going on? his looks seems to say, although he doesn't ask it. After all, it seems they are all about to find out.

Dakar moves over to Kassandra now, to purposefully put his tall, broad-shouldered frame between her and the door, and he glances to her, eyes widening as if asking what is taking the girl so long to do something. "Get the shards out of here, girl," he intones in a whisper.

\Out in the bowl, Meriath's uneasy rumble is easily heard.

Vesta hmms, as her ears hear interesting conversation, "A Lord Holder's daughter, hmmm...." She doesn't notice Sandi's look and reaction until a few seconds later, and she blinks. She abandons her net and moves over nearer her friend, propping her hip on the table next to Sandi, easily blocking the view of her from the door, and vice versa, eyes concerned.

"But.. but.. I am the assistant steward at the weyr, and I -know- who is here and who isn't. I can promise you that I'd know if the daughter of the Lord Holder of Tillek had decided to visit." The man may be familiar to some as he moves into view. His name is Mercan. And,though he spends most of his time making sure that the ale and wine stores are kept sufficient, he's often got a friendly word for those who sit at these very same tables. Right now, he's reaching out, some feeble attempt to bar the further progress of the personage who entered at his heels.

"You are obviously quite incompetent then," is the Lord Holder's off-hand remark. It's delivered with an expression of supreme distaste at having to deal with so lowly a person as the assistant steward is. His blue eyes rove over the room, dismissing some and studying others.

Ranwen stops, hearing this insult to an assitant steward. She was one once, afterall. Suddenly, she's much more interested in this new arrival, and even leans forward in her seat.

Cymber's sitting right next to Kassandra. Surprise moves quickly through various shades of understanding.. at least to some degree, on her finely-carved features. She closes the distance between she and her friend, all the while angling to diminish this.. important personage's view from the opposite side that Vesta's chosen. "You've got a -lot- of questions to answer later," is murmured to Kassandra, that and a faint smile and she's looking off toward the commotion again.

Ah, but it's too late, and Dakar turns around to face the Lord Holder, drawing himself up to his full height and looking a marked bit older than his almost-eighteen years. Of all the people here, he hasn't seemed surprised at just...who this daughter may be. His only concern seems to be the confrontation which has seen fit to come to the weyr.

Caraia seems to be oblivious to most of the goings-on and sits with an almost stupid smile on her face sipping her juice and eating some food she had put on a tray.

Kassandra is frozen to her seat. She couldn't move if she wanted to right now, so 'getting out of here' is kind of out of the question. Cymber's murmur catches her attention, though, and she looks, slightly wild-eyed, at the half-circle of people that seems to have formed around her. Her lips move slightly, but whatever sound was going to come out is muzzled before its genesis.

E'stan has disconnected.

Setarra looks even more confused at the behavior of those around her. "What in Faranth's name is going on?" she hisses, leaning towards them in a seemingly-casual movement.

Goran has paused with a mouthful halfway to his mouth, forgotten for the moment as he tries to put the scene together properly, focusing his somewhat bewildered attention on Kassandra, then on the Lord Holder, and then back again. Seems he's missed out on something again.

Goldean is over in the corner, yep he's in the shadows, yooou caaan't see hiim! A sip of his klah and he 'blends' into the wall trying to stay well hidden and watch whats going on

Vesta nods in agreement with Cymber, "Quite a few." But her smile is encouraging and her head turns to view the Lord Holder up and down, blue eyes darkening with an almost morbid curiousity.

Ranwen tilts her head slightly, totally engrossed in the happenings before her. Her bright eyes dart from Kassandra to the Lord Holder, quickly gathering and formulating a conclusion. Right or wrong, she may be either.

Now, Lord Holder Garthen of Tillek is obviously not a stupid man. When Mercan sets himself to further protestations, he just reaches out and brushes him to the side as easily as if he'd been a crawler. "You. Boy." The holder doesn't possess an immense frame, nor a small one, but he carries himself with the utter and certain knowledge that his word is law and that knowledge of everything is in his pocket. "Go and find my daughter. She's about this tall," his broad hand raises to indicate that height. "She's got blonde hair and blue eyes, and she looks like she's of my blood. Name's Kassandra." Just like that, he looks like he expects his orders to be followed, as well, without a question.

The Lord Holder was obviously speaking to Dakar with that address.

Mouthful of food finally finds it's way into Goran's mouth, and he chews slowly, absently, his eyes never leaving the scene that unfolds for the benefit of the entire cavern; indeed, it seems everyone is riveted to the entertainment.

Ranwen lets out an unexpected bark of laughter, mostly unable to believe what she's overheard!

"She's right here, Lord Holder," comes Dakar's reply, the young man..the 'boy' looming easily as tall as this man born to the aristocracy, his stare just as intense. But he does show the man respect. It is only proper. "You will be pleased--I would assume--to learn that your daughter has been chosen to stand on the sands as a candidate for our queen's clutch."

"Kassandra?" Cymber mouths, daring a glance between Vesta and the friendly formerly-known as Sandi. A quick grin is birthed from that, and she tucks a leg under her bottom to get a view of the action.

Vesta's jaw drops in amazement, and she blinks several times at the Lord Holder's description. She quickly shuts her mouth, though and turns eyes back to Kassandra, "Hmmm..." She shifts her body again, better hiding Kassandra from what she considers an explosive situation. She grimaces at Dakar's honesty, but simply shrugs, turning back to regard the Lord Holder's reaction to THAT bit of information.

Jalani stands to her feet. All five foot nothing of her bristles and she walks towards to the Lord Holder. "Ista's duties to Tillek, Lord Garthen." She sweetly, oh so sweetly stands right in front of the man. Years of weyrling staff training rise to the forefront. "Is there anything that we can do to help you?" A low rumble comes from the bowl at the word -we-. "Perhaps a drink? Isn't it wonderful that your daughter has been given the rare honour to stand on the sands as a candidate for one of the few clutches before the First Fall of the coming Pass?"

Kassandra looks up at Dakar, totally stunned. "What in Faranth's name are you /doing/?" she hisses at the erstwhile smith, managing to somehow restrain herself from tugging on his sleeve. "Are you /crazy/?" That herder's accent is totally gone now--no sense in wasting the effort when her cover's obviously blown.

"She's what?" Garthen doesn't bellow. He doesn't have to yet. His distainfully spoken question goes further than that. "Well bring her in here and I'll cure her of that nonsense. Whoever put a ridiculous idea that in her head needs a talking to." He trails off, making it seem as if that was his aim along, and scathing rakes his eyes up and down the length of Jalani's person. "Might be wonderful for you. Girl's got a match waiting home and it's time to stop all her games." He isn't a weyrling, and isn't so easy to back down. The thunderclouds in the backs of his eyes haven't made their way into his carefully arranged expression. "You can find someone else, I'm taking her home." Heavy arms cross his chest in stolid emphasis.

Dakar holds Kassandra off with a staying gesture, using Jalani's well-timed interruption to answer his fellow candidate. "Your father may be headstrong," he whispers, "But I doubt he's the type to commit political suicide by taking a chosen candidate away from such an important clutching just because she is his daughter." He looks back to the Lord Holder now. Dakar wasn't born to the aristocracy, but he is no stranger to politics, for his parents were immersed in such from the day he was born.

Goran looks at Kassandra with new eyes, trying to reconcile her new status with the girl so recently tossing fish on the beach. Another forkful is propelled mouthward with definite unconsciousness now...his interest is about as avid as Ranwn's now, if not as amused; instead, anticipation lights his expression as Jalani steps in as well. Curiouser and curiouser. Mention of Kassandra's seemingly imminent matrimonial event widens his eyes, however.

Jalani clears her throat, staring at the man. Hear the sizzle? It is her eyes boring a hole right into his pompous chest. "She has been chosen to stand on the sands. No one can force her not to stand. It is her choice, clearly. She is not handfasted, nor with child. There is -nothing- barring her. We (again a roar from the bowl) will protect your daughter, of course, and see to her safety, just as if she was safe and snug in her mother's arms, until the eggs hatch."

Vesta frowns at the Lord Holder, and mutters, "Over the dead bodies of me, several of my friends and every dragon in this Weyr, I'll bet." Her blue eyes are stormy midnight sky with lightning sparking in the glow created light of the caverns.

"I don't know.. he doesn't look much like he's too thrilled with the prospect of Sand.." Cymber pauses and turns an upcurved brow to the woman beside her, "Kassandra staying here, smith." Those are the first real words she's spoken to Dakar in weeks, and there is nothing of harshness in them. This is too important. Her fingers reach out, to intercept and squeeze those of her friend.. no matter what her name is.

Kassandra feels the friendly pressure of Cymber's fingers, and she squeezes back, gratefully. She seems to be breaking out of her shock, though, her eyes showing signs of intelligence rather than the wild-animal-in-a-corner look that was in them earlier. "I just don't know," she says, softly, not much above a whisper, but enough above one.

Ranwen stands at all this, wandering over. "Take her from the sands..." she mutters, a dark look dancing briefly over her face. As a candidate, she hates the idea, as a former assistant steward, she's had to deal with some of the Lord Holders far too much--they're low opinion of Weyrs and the like, so in turn her opinion doesn't speak highly of them. She's practically bristling as she listens, though she offers no general comment.

Caraia finishes her meal and finds the air getting too smothered by tempers flaring.

Garthen doesn't so much as deign to notice anyone else but Jalani with anything more than a distasteful bend to his lips. Sizzle meets the implacability of stone, against which it is relatively harmless. He summons up a dismissing, adroit sort of smile for the greenrider, eyes sharp and hard. "Don't know what she's been telling you here, but -I've- handfasted her while she's been off running around on a fancy. She'll be married within two months, wife's already working on her fasting clothes. Not," he emphasizes that single word with a moment of potent silence, "That it's any business of yours." Something is drawing his attention, and his gaze returns to the smith. "What's going on over there?" Apparently he's not blind, and is taking notice of the semi-circle of friends.

Vesta reaches out to take Kassandra's other hand in hers, sliding from the table to the bench, leaving Sandi in full view. She too squeezes fingers gently, "Don't let him bully you into leaving, Sandi. We need you too much here." Her smile is warm, but laced with desparation.

Setarra snorts softly. "Glad I never had a father," she mutters to no one.

Jalani clears her throat, smiling so sweetly."Unless she stood and took her own vows, I do believe there is no handfast. You run the risk, Lord Garthen, if I am not mistaken, of being censured by every Lord Holder of Pern if you forced your daughter to handfast -after- she has been chosen by the very dragons of Ista to stand. Of course, I am nothing but a sweet little greenrider, and I could be wrong."

Serriena comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

Serriena has arrived.

Cymber leans over and tightens her hand once more. "Vesta's right. You can't knuckle under to a bully.. Besides," her smile's sleek and amused at this point. "Don't you know what an honour it is to be asked to stand for a clutch?" She doesn't move away, but she does shift her posture to allow a certain Lord Holder his view.

"We're attempting to keep the daughter of the Lord Holder from being pulled away by a father who apparently has no concept of just what an honor it is to be a candidate in this hour of need for our world. Tell me, sir...have you ever even -heard- of the thread?"

Caraia disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Caraia has left.

<Ista Weyr> Dakar says, "Erm..thatw as me."

Ranwen has reconnected.

Ranwen has partially disconnected.

Uh-oh. That's it. Kassandra's not cowed anymore. Now she's mad. Very mad. One can almost see the sparks flying from her eyes. "He...did...what?" she manages to get out around her teeth. She'd get up, but she might do something she regrets.

Serriena comes in proudly bearing a knot of candidacy on her shoulder but still a the violent emotions hanging in the air. Her smile fades from her face and she hangs back a bit sadly.

Goran feels somewhat at a loss at the entire contretemps, and decides to stay out of it and listen, and eat; after all, there are enough defending the girl already. A grin appears, however, as it seems Kassandra herself is about to let her father have it, judging from the rage that emenates from her at mention of handfasting.

Vesta blinks at Sandi and then shares a grin with Cymber, "That's our Sandi." She settles back, now, a bit more confidant that her friend won't be kidnapped away from the Weyr, and watches the show.

"Let's not banter words," Garthen aims a blunt glance at the sweet-voiced greenrider, tugging his lips into a mirthless smile. "If -I- say the girl's promised, then she's as good as handfasted. More sensible for her than this nonsense of dragons and sands. As for Thread," absolute derision in the man's tone as he shifts his gaze to stab at Dakar, "Harpers' tales. I haven't seen any of the stuff, and won't. It's as fanciful as my girl's ideas about her future. Good thing she'll have me to guide her." Some of the acid leaves his expression as he nods, to himself, verifying Kassandra's fortune.

Jalani coughs. "If you -say- thread will not fall, will it stay in the skies?"

Vesta takes an imaginary dart and runs fingers over the phantom fletchings. She takes careful aim, and the silent, not-really-there dart sings through the air at what would seem to be the Lord Holder's nose. She seems disappointed in her aim and pulls out another invisible dart.

Dakar shrugs at that, and realizes that the man isn't going to give in on the basis of logic. He can feel Kassandra beginning to rile up behind him, and the entire scene begins to unravel, control fleeing bit by bit, before he adds, "Ah, but the commoners. Do they think likewise? What would they think of their lord showing such obvious favoritism, and eschewing the safety--or the potential safety--of having the dragons able to choose the lifemates best suited for them?"

Did he just use the word 'eschewing?' shards, the boy did.

Garthen looks down on Jalani, lifting thick fingers to stroke at his jaw. "No, it'll stay in the tales and stories where it belongs." He doesn't even add venom to that, it's something he obviously holds true. "What do you know of my people, boy?" That's for Dakar, and he steps toward the smith with the intent to go around and investigate that cluster of friends for himself.

Jalani stares in the corner of the room, peering in the darkened corners. "I do think it would be good if dear little Kassandra spoke for herself? Any girl with the good sense... err the cunning to carry this charade for this long has to have more than a few words of her own?"

Ah, but the fellow's not going to get past Dakar so easily. Nobility be damned, the smith is a rather strong fellow. He's spent years living by that strength, and he has performed well. He stands his ground, and is just on the verge of delivering his own diatribe on commoners when he feels Kassandra standing behind him...

Goran finishes his meal, though it can't be said that he even remembers what he ate, as fascinated as he is with the entertainment. He settles back into his chair, mug of klah raised to washt he last mouthful down, his eyes turning towards Kassandra at Jalani's words; it seems a good idea, to him, to let the girl speak for hedrself.

The Lord Holder barks a rough gout of laughter after Jalani's done. "Girl child doesn't know her own mind. Best for her to listen to her father." He's stopped his steps to answer, and now starts them up again, almost daring Dakar to stop him. "Where is she, boy? I know she's here now."

Serriena raises a brow at the commotion. She, too, wishes to hear what Kassandra will say. But what is going on? And why is everyone upset by this man who stands in the room with them?

Kassandra has had enough. Placing her hands firmly on the arms of her chair, she levers herself out of it. Her eyes dart over to give Jalani a /look/, but she moves out from behind her protectors to face her father, fury glittering in her eyes. Her first words, though, are not to her father, but her friends. "Thank you, all of you," she says. "I appreciate your efforts to protect me." Now her attention turns fully to her father. Astonishingly enough, her tone is more inquisitive--although barbed--than angry. "Father, did it ever /once/ occur to you to ask what -I- wanted?" That's all she says, for now, knowing that will be enough to get him started.

Vesta scoots a bit closer to Cymber and rests her arms on the table, watching Kassandra with a slightly concerned expression, but one that also anticipates an interesting scene. Her eyes dart to Dakar for a moment, and at Kassandra's words of thanks, she grins wryly.

Cymber shares a glance with Vesta before gathering up her forgotten mug and finding something of interest in its bottom. Klah's cold.. doesn't take long to drink down, and purely because.. she wants to offer moral support?, she leans an elbow on the table and stares the confrontation.

Jalani has disconnected.

Shaioni comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

Shaioni has arrived.

Shaioni disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Shaioni has left.

"I know what you want, daughter." Garthen's eyes gleam as they finally pick out Kassandra from the milling crowd of strangers. "You're as fanciful-flighty as your mother and'll settle down under my hand just like she did in the end. Why do you fight what I know's best for you all the time?" Instead of anger, the man exhibits a sort of paternal pity for his daughter's stubbornness in this regard. He doesn't walk any closer, just stands and watches her with a haughty angle to his features.

Setarra comments, plenty loud to be heard, "Anyone who doesn't consider their own child's happiness is a cruel, mean spirited, heartless beast. If you ask me."

"Because, -Father-, you don't know what's best for me. You never have. You just assume that what -you- want is what -I- want. What I want is definitely not to be married to that greasy idiot in Crom." Kassandra is not backing down. She's not stupid, though: she's not too far from the smith, who ought to be enough to protect her if necessary. "I'm not a child anymore, Father. I know what I want."

Goran catches Setarra's words and answers it with a grin, though his eyes avert back to the father and daughter to see what Kassandra's response is, smiling with satisfaction once it is spoken. He can appreciate having spirit and independence, after all.

Setarra winks in Goran's direction, in response to the grin. Shy she isn't.

Vesta nods at Kassandra's back, grinning in a 'Thata girl' kind of way. She fires a invisible dart and mouths, 'Bullseye' to noone in particular.

Dakar has done what he can, thought the Lord Holder is given one last return of the challenging stare before the candidate steps aside to allow KAssandra to handle this herself. He is here for moral support now, and to pull the man off anyone should he lose his senses.

Ranwen glances at Vesta and offers a cool grin before aiming her attention back at the turmoil between father and daughter

Goldean would help and support, but hey he's in the little corner drinking klah and mingling in the shadows.

The pity grows dimmer as Garthen narrows his eyes and pushes his brows lower in rising ire. "He might be greasy, but you could do worse. I found you someone close to your age, you should be grateful. How did I birth such a willful child?" he appears decidedly unhappy, rubbing in habit at his chin before shaking it off and walking past Dakar to reach out and wrap his fingers round Kassandra's arm. "You don't know anything. I'm the one tells you what you know, and I'm telling you now, we're going home."

Setarra continues her rather loud self-conversation. "You know, if I were him, I'd consider my self rather lucky all she did was run away, and stop pushing my luck. Girls in her position have done more desperate things."

Goran actually chuckles, unable to help himself as he gazes at the Lord Holder with something akin to amazement "I'd say his birthing anyone himself is amazing" Is muttered to no one in particular...."Seein as how he don't look much like a woman...." Although he frowns a bit as the man gets a bit physical, though he doesn't move. It isn't his place, after all.

Vesta pushes herself up using her propping arms, and glares at the overbearing form of the Lord Holder, fingering her all too real beltknife.

Cymber shifts unhappily in her place, pushing away her mug and losing the last vestiges of any smile she might have worn. "Man's an idiot," she murmurs, loud enough to be heard, but mainly for the benefit of Vesta, who's still close.

Jalani has connected.

Being one of the ones standing around watching the scene, Serriena moves to stand in front of Goran. She doesn't look up at him as he's so tall she'd have to crane her neck. But she does hold her arms out in a T formation and says, "Stop this nonsense. " Which is funny coming from someone so small standing next to someone much bigger than she is.

Kassandra flinches as her father's grip closes around her arm. A slightly desperate look is flashed at her friends, but instead, she tries something, and jerks her arm away. It works. "He's greasy, he's dimwitted, and the only reason you want me to marry him is because he's the Lord Holder of Crom's son," she says bluntly. "And you do not now nor never have told me what I know. And I'm staying here." The last is a particularly gutsy line, since her father is easily twice her size. She glances at Serriena, and quirks her lips slightly, amused despite the seriousness of the situation.

Jalani quirks an eyebrow and applauds the sassy holder girl. "About time you speak your mind." Staring back at the Holder, she sweetly remarks. "Our dragons really do find it so irritating when someone tries to phyiscally hurt one of our candidates. We do want them to be on one piece when they reach the sands." She chuckles, gesturing to the bellow out in the bowl. "Never mind the noise."

Ineban comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

Ineban has arrived.

Vesta can't help but move around the table and approach Kassandra, the Lord Holder and Dakar. In fact, she pads over and plants herself at Dakar's side, glaring at the Lord Holder with snapping dark blue eyes.

"That's enough. I'm not going to listen to anymore lip from you, child." The Lord Holder of Tillek draws in a deep breath and straightens his shoulders, glaring heatedly at Kassandra. "I don't care what you think you want. You -are- coming home right now. I suggest you head out of here now or else.. you will not like the consequences." He pulls back, smugly tugging gloves from out of his belt and expecting the girl to comply. "She's not yours, Rider," his blue eyes flick ice as Jalani, "She's mine."

Setarra hmphs. "I didn't realize people could be belongings."

Jalani chuckles. "What? You will send her to her room? Didn't seem to quite work the other time, did it?"

Goran notes suddenly, joining the fray, if only briefly "Y'know....I ain't up on what's what, really...but it seems t'me that your takin her out of here will be difficult, what with the dragons wanted her to stay." And a sip of klah is taken after adding that little bit of opinion. He certainly isn't going to be the one foolish enough to attempt kidnapping the girl against the wishes of a myrriad of /very/ large, /very/ heavy, and /very/ toothy dragons. No way.

"HAve you thought of going to the Weyrleader with your concerns, Lord Holder?" asks Dakar. His tone is -overly- formal. -Overly- polite. And it is clear that he does not like the man. Which, in of itself, is a departure, for Dakar likes everybody.

Following the trend, Cymber completes the action she just began, and rises, firmly stepping across the floor to take up a stand with her friends. Doesn't seem to matter that Dakar's there even, her chin is lifted at a stubborn angle and she sets one hand at her hip.

"What's going on here?" comes Ineban's perpetually calm voice from the entrance, his arms folded tightly across his chest, deep furrows rolling in his brow. Even silent, his voice travels -- like a harper's, almost -- but it's got a nervous edge. He regroups, waits for an answer.

Vesta literally growls, "Overbearing, pompous wherry." She fingers her beltknife again, and then lets her hand rest on the hilt. She gives Cymber a hard little smile and then looks back at the Lord Holder, her opinion quite obvious.

Ranwen nods in Goran's direction. "Not just the dragons, but everyone here wants her to stay. She will, I've no doubt!" her tone drips with acid, but a simle hovers on her face.

Jalani waggles her fingers at Ineban, cautioning him to listen.

And yep of course Goldean is where he always has been, right in the corner looking around and then toward the Lord Holder. He'd say something, but the klah seems to have kept his mouth full

Kassandra hasn't moved. Nor is she likely to. The gathering around her is noted with faint surprise and a smile, but she's still not moving. She's also not saying anything, trusting that her father will get the point when he sees that she's not following him like the helpless little puppy dog he seems to think she is. So she stands, silently, flanked by her friends.

"Don't you know what happens to young girls when their fathers try to keep them in line? Especially Lord Holders daughters?" Serriena frowns at Garthen not letting his size intimidate her. She doesn't seem to realize she is giving away something she shouldn't. "Girls can die because their fathers won't let them follow their dreams!" she tells the man.

Another displeased rumbleroar comes forth from the bowl and is joined by a low rumble of yet another dragon. Jalani glances out at the bowl and chuckles. "Hush, dear, nothing to get in a tizzy about."

Jalani is the recipient of a very angry stare. Garthen's nostrils even flare slightly at the goad. Seems the greenrider's good at those, and this has not entirely been going his way. "Not your room this time, girl." The man crosses his arms over his chest nonchalantly again, scathing sweeping the room and its commentators with his glare. "If you don't leave this instant I am disowning you. You'll no longer be my daughter and will have no hold in Tillek ever again." Finality is in the quiet that follows his words, and he's sure.. smugly so, that this will do the trick, to judge by the curtness of his smile.

Setarra nods. "Exactly what I was saying," she says towards Serriena. "He's lucky she was only esperate enough to run away." She snorts at the 'ultimatum'. "Sounds infinitely more preferable to me. But of course, I'm not her."

Ineban flicks a glance to Jalani, otherwise motionless as he considers the..the Lord Holder? Yep..there's that knot. Momentarily taken aback, he looks tempted to retreat, but quickly sizing up the situation, he thinks the better of it and joins the throng of Kassandra's supporters. And boy, is he threatening looking. "*Hey*," he snaps at Garthen. "You can't speak to her that way and expect respect from her! She's her own woman, and I'm pretty sure she'll thank you to let her make her own decisions!" Yeah!

Jalani does glare around the room. "Speak with respect, he is still the Lord Holder of Tillek, candidates. Discourtesy is no excuse for rude behaviour on your part, my dears."

Goran laughs at that one; the Holder doesn't have a clue, and even a farm boy like him knows it "Seems t'me...she didn't care much for the position in the first place, seein as how she ran away..." As it is so obvious she did now...He winks at Ranwen, rather enjoying this little episode; he feels almost a part of the big happy Weyr family now.

Cymber gets it.. she doesn't move, but she turns around and widens her eyes at Serriena from over a slender shoulder. It takes her a moment, then she just nods.. affirmatively enough to shake the hair that brushes her shoulders. That same attitude is reflected in her posture when she, too, aims the full-force of her displeasure at the ignorant Lord Holder.

Ranwen inlcines her head and smiles at Ineban, again only a brief diversion from her origional focus, which morphs to include Ineban as he speaks. She shakes her head slightly at the ultamatium, thinking in a flash--what if she doesn't impress? Would she stay at the Weyr? Of course, is her mind's answer, and she smiles to Goran, feeling she's settled something.

Dakar arches a brow, and in spite of what others may think here, he glances to the man as if he is pleased by what's been said. You see...the Lord Holder has at least offered Kassandra some semblance of choice. Perhaps she'll throw it in his face by allowing herself to be disowned, so she can stay here, where she belongs.

Vesta watches Kassandra after that ultimatum, expression flitting across her face varying from smugness to concern to smugness again.

Kassandra almost laughs. Almost. She does half-smile, though. "Go right ahead," is all she says, calmly. The bursts of laughter around the room do call the remainder of that smile to her face, and she flicks a slight glance at the laughers.

Inconceivable. Garthen is taken aback by such an easy acceptance of the worst fate to be had, as far as his opinion extends. "I meant it, girl." Menacing, he approaches Kassandra again, one arm unfolding so he can point his thick finger in her direction. "Not one mark. Not one letter from home. Nothing. You will be dead to us all." That's spoken with certainty, a certainty which heats as laughter, given at his expense, skitters around the chamber.

Ineban is buoyed by Kassandra's confidence and moves closer to Garthen, daring him to go back on his word. "I pity those you govern, Lord," he purrs, according the man a low, spiteful bow. "And you? You, I pity more. The Weyr won't stand for it. Your daughter certainly won't, it would appear. Although it would seem she'd be a much better Holder. No, the dragons want her -- want her more than you!"

Setarra smirks. "You go, girl."

Jalani stares at the mockers, each one in turn. The same intense stare she gave the Lord Holder, she now gives each candidate. She says in a low, intense voice that should be easily heard in the cavern. "Remember, Courtesy. Respect his position."

Vesta chuckles finally, "Sandi isn't going anywhere, Sir. Go back to Tillek and order your other children about like possessions."

Ranwen bobs her head to Jalani. She hasn't been very vocal, anyway, so she just edges to Ineban in case his gallantry takes him too far with the imposing Lord Holder.

Goran manages a shame-faced look at Jalani's words, and sobers quickly, though approval of Kassandra's decision still lights his green eyes. He goes quiet, finding interest in his klah mug of a sudden, the dull flush to his tanned cheeks evidence of his obvious embarrassment at having acted so rudely...and to a Lord Holder too! Even if he did deserve it.

Kassandra outright grins now. "That's fine with me, Father. I've gotten along without them for several months now." She flickers a glance at Ineban, raising an eyebrow at the comment that she might Hold better than her father. Her friends are given a smile, and the greenrider is given a very slight nod.

"Lord Holder sir," Serriena says, "Please understand that we all want to keep Kassandra here. I have just come in on this conversation and listened to it. You want your daughter to marry someone she does not care for." She quiets when Jalani speaks. She simply nods and says, "Sir." again and doesn't say any more.

Vesta looks only slightly shamefaced, but she does give the Lord Holder a slightly less vehement look and quiets.

Ineban nods affirmatively at Jalani, stepping back. "Indeed she has." That comment? That comment was meant to sting. To make the point that she's of her own mind -- nevermind *he* has a very delicate sense of what that mentality is. He's said what he needs to; now retreated a pace or two, he sidles closer to Ranwen, since she was there first.

One might almost be able to feel the rise in temperature in the chamber as Garthen's fury boils and grows until his face reddens. His eyes narrow and bolt themselves to Kassandra in one last attempt to cow his child. "Stay then, girl." Snapping his gloves out, he stuffs in one hand, then the other. "Seems you fit in with this mannerless crowd of nobodies. Best to leave you here." He pivots on his heel, shoots Ineban and Dakar a particularly nasty look, then aims himself toward the door. "I'm impressed by your control and the education you've given these.." a smirk as he tosses his hand toward the room, "Candidates." He's almost gone when he stops to announce with amazing aplomb. "I won't disown you, girl. It's what you want. I'll be back again." And with that, he stumps off through the tunnel and is gone, bellowing for the unfortunate blue that must fly him home.

Ineban has disconnected.

Dakar arches a brow at that, for he has shown the man no overt disrespect. Plenty of it implied, but..that's the beauty of politics. His father has taught him well. He even goes so far as to bow in farewell to the Lord Holder, a low, seemingly genuine gesture. "Safe travels, Lord Holder."

\The low rumble of the bowl suddenly disppears into dead silence. An eerie sort of silence. Until suddenly a triumphant bugle is heard.

Setarra says "You know, I'm kinda proud to be a mannerless nobody."

Jalani rolls her eyes, looking out at the bowl. "Ever the one for dramatics, dear, aren't you now."

Goldean is still in his shadowy corner, thought you might like to know that.

"Faranth, San.. Kassandra," Cymber grins impishly at her newly-christened friend. "S'no wonder you left home with him there waiting." She shivers in empathy and shakes her head, even walking across the floor to peek out the tunnel to make certain that he's gone.

Ranwen just looks sour about the last few comments. "As if he would...say something...about--something he doesn't even know about," she fuming quietly, muttering under her breath, though she flashes a smile to Kassandra, impressed by her strength.

Having nothing else to say, Serriena says, "Tall wasn't he?"

Goran is mannerless and a nobody; but one has to consider that he at least doesn't know any better...or didn't. He's learning, though. One would think a Lord Holder would know about courtesy, however. But he keeps his thoughts to himself, still embarrassed at having been drawn into insulting and laughing at someone far above him in station, although he does send a smile Kassandra's way "Glad t'see you're staying, at that." Is his murmured comment, and then he's off to refill his klah, turning with pot in hand to see if anyone else needs more..."Klah, anyone?"

Kassandra manages a prim curtsey at her father's back. "Good day, Father. Perhaps I will see you at the Hatching." She sighs then, after he is well and truly gone, and slumps into the first vacant chair at hand. After a second, she looks up at everyone--and there are rather a lot of everyones here--who managed to witness that little party. "I suppose that means you all want answers now?" she asks, ruefully, in her own cultured accent.

Jalani looks around the room, smiles sardonically, heads to the meal table and refills her wine glass, then slides in her seat beside the other riders she had been gossiping with. "SO.. tell me, just what was S'dran wearing this time? No! Not a lacy white..."

Setarra stands and starts to head out, but pauses before Kassandra and her friends. "Congratulations, Kassandra. A man like that doesn't deserve kids, much less obedient ones."

Klah. What a good idea. Cymber detours on her way back to grab up a pitcher and several mugs, doesn't take the time to count them. At the edge of Kass' table, she sets them out and fills, eventually pushing one off in the other girl's direction. "Drink it. It'll help." More amused now that the holder's gone, she gently pushes Ember away from his curious exploration of said cups.

Dakar ponders....he ponders everything, gaze travelling to Kassandra, lingering there as he takes note of her mood. She seems fine. To Cymber. She seems..less than fine with him near, and as much as it pains him (and oh, it does), he purses lips and looks on to the rest, before leaving the cavern without a word.

Dakar goes home.

Dakar has left.

Ranwen wanders back to her seat near Goran, swinging her legs up and over one of the armrests as she reclines.

Kassandra takes the proffered cup with a smile and manages to down half of it in one shot. "Thanks," she says after a bit. Her sense of humor about the situation is starting to return slowly, though she is obviously weary. "I never thought he'd just come storming in here..." She shrugs, and takes another swallow of klah.

Goran shrugs as Cymber does the serving, and brings his own mug and pot of klah back to the table, grinning at Ranwen "Worth leaving the ocean for, eh?" he murmurs by way of starting a conversation. "Although swimmin is a bit less stressful."

Setarra has disconnected.

Setarra has connected.

Sensing disaster averted, but recriminations sure to follow, Serriena sits with Kassandra, Cymber and Dakar. She opens her mouth to say something but shuts it just as quickly.

"You know what I like best?" Cymber slides down into her seat and picks out one of the mugs she just left for anybody that wants it. A nudge of her chin urges Serri to take one as she joins the group at the table. "I like how quickly you lost that accent, my friend." In the end her wide, innocently open eyes, turn to Kassandra, and she flutters her lashes.

Ranwen bobs her head. "That it is," she grumbles. "I should've stayed in that water. It was much nicer." She sighs and begins to swing her legs a bit.

Setarra disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Setarra has left.

Serriena shakes her head at Cymber's offer. Klah is good for waking one up if necessary but she doesn't care for the taste otherwise.

Kassandra chuckles, taking another sip of her klah, and grinning at Cymber. "You have /no/ idea how hard it was to do that," she says, grinning. "I had friends who were herders. They helped me get here from Tillek, and I copied their accents as well as I could. I'm not much of an actress." She shrugs, and takes another drink.

Goran listens to Kassandra with half an ear, although to tell truth, he didn't know her well enough to judge her accent. His own isn't the best. So he nods to Ranwen, sipping his klah "It was a bit more peaceful, for sure, though our choice of beaches did smell a bit of fish" he notes, grinning "Besides..I was hungry." Which mean a trip to the caverns was a necessity.

Serriena has disconnected.

Serriena has connected.

Jalani grins, overhearing Kassandra."To be honest, your accent wasn't that true"

Cymber takes the time to actually taste this mug, chuckling quietly to herself with the vessel still uplifted in her hands. "I think you're enough of an actress to have fooled and entire weyr and lots of people to get here." Her head tilts as she considers Kassandra. "Didn't have the faintest idea you were so important." Her eyes drift to Jalani, and Serriena, and she sip some more, listening.

Ranwen stands and smiles. "Well, Goran, I'm sure I'll be seeing you soon--I look forward to more swims." She chuckles as she walks off to bed.

Ranwen goes home.

Ranwen settles into Ranwen's cot.

Ranwen has left.

Kassandra wrinkles her nose at Jalani. "I tried," she says with a shrug. She grins at Cymber, swirling the remainder of the klah in her cup around idly. "I'm not that important, really. I'm not the oldest. I've got two older brothers and an older sister. She was the 'pretty one', and I was 'Kassandra the weirdo.'" She shrugs absently.

Goran waves to Ranwen as she disappears, shaking his head at her flightiness before grinning into his mug. He's left alone, now, of course; but it doesn't seem to bother him.

N'ait comes in through the narrow tunnel from the bowl.

N'ait has arrived.

Vesta has disconnected.

Goldean wiggles in his little shadowy corner, someone come PLAY with me!

Jalani chuckles, winking at Kassandra, now the feline is out of the bag, so to speak. "Well, your hands were a dead give away as well but I figured you had your own reasons for playing costumes and charades with us all." She smiles approvingly. "Good on ya for speaking your mind."

"I wish you'd stop saying that," drops Cymber drolly into the conversation as she settles one leg up beneath the other one and reorients herself into comfort. "Seems like, if anything, you're the 'smart one' for hightailing it out of there as quick as you could." She takes up the nursing of her mug, smiling crookedly as Jalani's words insert pieces into pieces to form a puzzle she'd heretofore missed.

Serriena has disconnected.

Serriena has connected.

Vesta has connected.

Kassandra blushes, a pinkish flush spreading over her cheeks and nose. "I couldn't exactly just tell you who I was," she points out. "It would have been that much harder to stay if Father found me before the Search did." She wrinkles her nose at Cymber. "That's not the point. I'm not the most important member of the family, so I don't feel that I should be treated like I'm something any more special than I am." She shrugs again, taking another sip of klah before continuing. "I'd rather be judged on what I do, not who my parents are."

Falina comes up the flight of stairs from the inner caverns.

Falina has arrived.

Jalani keeps an eye on Vesta, looking at the girl with vested interest. She smiles softly. "Ever a quick tongue you got there, girl."

N'ait has reconnected.

N'ait has partially disconnected.

Vesta sighs at Jalani, "I know...its my upbringing." Isn't that the usual excuse...she shrugs, "I should work on it, I suppose."

"Makes sense to me, though I haven't known any other way." Cymber ends that with a grin and then settles in to take stock of who else is left in the cavern, nursing her klah every now and then.

Jalani snorts. "Well, you will learn, if you stay around here long enough. I ended up scrubbing more latrines in my day for my quick tongue." She chuckles. "By the way, it seems you got my dragon in a tizzy earlier. By something you said, I think."

Goran finishes off another mug of klah and looks about him for something to keep him busy, other than the possibility of having to nanny those brats anymore. He's done with that, he is. He'd rather clean out the hearth again, despite how filthy he got.

Vesta blinks at Jalani, "Oh, something 'I' said? I didn't realize she...I mean you, and thus she...oh dear..." She seems a bit confused, but eventually manages to sigh, "Which thing was that, ma'am?" See...she's trying already, she is. She moves closer to Cymber and Kassandra, but her eyes stay fixed on Jalani.

Jalani hmms. "Well, she was watching all this kind of through me. We are kind of together about most things. Just happens that way." She shrugs. "If you want to stay on her good side, you might want to apologize. She is a bit of a stickler for respect. Compared to me, that is."

N'ait strides quietly into the living caverns, his dark blue eyes taking in a small carving that her carries into his hands. Oblivious, as N'ait can tend to be, he simply moves towards the table and almost runs into quite a few people.

Jalani is momentarily distracted as the bluerider ploughs his way through the crowded room. Her lips curl up with fond amusement.

Vesta ohs softly, at Jalani and looks very disturbed, "Oh, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side. I'll definitely apologize...but which thing that I said upset her? Was it the wherry statement?" She sighs softly, and its obvious that while it doesn't bother her to have called the Lord Holder a wherry, it does bother her that it might have bothered the green dragon.

Cymber reaches out to tease at Ember's tail, whirling her forefinger into its curves as she props the ubiquitous elbow on the table and leans her cheek into the palm of that hand to observe Jalani and Vesta from beneath the cover of her lashes. She must've missed whatever they're discussing, so pays close attention now, sending a smile to her friend in support on the sly, when the greenrider isn't looking.

Yep, Goldean's in the corner, a bit of movement to check out the female riders and then bacck in hiding in the shadows.

Jalani chuckles. "Well, yes, you see, Wherry is her favourite food. And to compare her favorite food to the Lord Holder was insulting to her."

Kassandra stifles a chuckle, grinning behind her klah cup at Jalani's statement. Her eyes dart from Vesta to Jalani, then back again, and she takes a drink of klah to hide her grin.

Vesta's mouth forms an O and she blinks several times, and then she hides a grin behind a hand raised to rub her nose, "I will apologize profusely, then, greenrider. Would it be alright it I apologize through you, or should I do it personally?"

Jalani hmms. "Well, I don't know." She ponders. "Since I am not the one insulted, you might want to apologize to the injured party?" She giggles. "Oh dear, she doesn't think this is the least bit funny, you know. She takes her food very seriously."

N'ait finally pockets the small object and looks up, his eyes glancing over the crowds before landing on Jalani. A smile brightens his features, and he begins heading in her direction, grabbing only a mug of juice before hand.

Cymber must find it amusing though, her smile has only grown, and she's more openly aiming it toward Vesta. Klah forgotten, she moves her free hand's fingers up to stroking one particular spot on the little bronze lizard, still content to merely observe the goings-on.

Vesta bites her bottom lip and nods solemnly at Jalani, "Now would be good, I suppose? I'd hate to be on her bad side overnight." She looks towards the bowl. She puts a hand on Kassandra's shoulder, "Should I apologize to you too? I mean, he IS your father...if he's a wherry, that could mean bad things for you."

Jalani hmms. "Maybe you -both- better apologize to her? Kassandra and Vesta? After all, she is very particular about those who insult wherries." The greenrider looks up, smiling as N'ait continues in her direction. She tries valiently to crush any maudlin grin that would dare try to creep over her lips.

Kassandra chuckles, patting Vesta's hand reassuringly. "It's okay. He's more of a stubborn ox than a wherry." She grins, and rises, putting her klah cup down on the table. "Do you think Meriath would mind if you had company?" She glances over at Jalani, slightly surprised. "I didn't insult any wherries," she says quizzically.

Serriena lets out a yawn without thinking about it. As it is late evening and she has had much excitement in the day she decides to go examine her new cot in the barracks and waves goodnight to everyone in the living caverns. Then she heads out.

Serriena heads down the stairs, deeper into the Weyr.

Serriena has left.

Vesta hmms at Jalani, "What'd Sandi do? Did I miss something? Other than the shocking realization that Sandi is Kassandra the Holder's daughter." Her smile is teasingly aimed at Kassandra. She then heads out towards the bowl, pausing at the door to await Kassandra.

N'ait pauses near the table, casting a smile in Vesta's direction before finding a nice side to crouch next to the greenrider where he won't get hurt by people walking around. He smiles at her and says, "Allo, lovely." The man then goes quiet, taking a drink from his mug.

Jalani sighs. "You don't know Meriath. She is insulted that Kassandra has a father who would dare be called after her favorite meal." She taps her forehead. "Touchy.. Very touchy.."

Cymber didn't insult any wherries.. matter of fact, the only wherries she had anything to do with were the ones that provided themselves for her lizard's dinner about an eternity ago. She's in the remarkably fine position to watch with an amused smile as both her friends turn to go. A lift of her hand accompanies a, "Good luck, you two," before she settles back down with her mug.

Vesta gives Cymber a asking glance that says, 'Come with me?'.

Goran is just listening to the conversation, keeping to himself and away from the bratlings, some of whom have evaded the night nannies to sneak bubblies at this late hour, and also to poke more fun at the bumbling candidate who afforded them so much amusement.

Jalani smiles, and gestures to a seat beside her. "Keep my seat warm, N'ait? I have to go deal with an irate Meriath. She is pestering me something fierce." The greenrider unfolds herself from her chair, still holding onto her beloved wine glass. "Shall we, girls?"

Vesta sighs softly and nods at Sandi, "Looks like I should apologize for myself and for making you have to apologize. I'm in deep, it would seem." She makes her way after Jalani, half amused, half concerned.

Goldean is still in his corner

Kassandra chuckles, smoothing out her hair absently. "I suppose we should," she says with a grin.

Cymber catches that look and takes it as an invitation. Ember's gathered up and settled in his place, lithe tail whipping out to wrap about her throat, and then she rises while in the process of emptying her mug. "On second though, it's a nice night for a walk. Never know what you'll see when you're out." Cup's given to a passing drudge, though she hesitates when Jalani rises to join them, turning the lift of her brow to Vesta.

Jalani shrugs and shakes her head aplogetically to the girls. "It is her, really, not me. Please just go along with it?" She chuckles. "I can't explain her little petty.." She winces. "She heard that..."

Jalani disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Jalani has left.

Vesta can't help a giggle at Jalani's slip of thought and tongue and dashes out after the greenrider.

Vesta disappears through the narrow tunnel to the bowl.

Vesta has left.

Kassandra shrugs at Cymber, grinning good-naturedly, before following.

You head out through the narrow tunnel to emerge in the bowl.