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Winter Is Coming; [Weyr Event]
Topic Started: Feb 11 2018, 06:44 AM (687 Views)
Contrition
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Aniese had checked the records multiple times now. The numbers had been mapped out, displayed in a chart, compared side by side. And there was really no denying it.

Tithes were low. Again.

They were lower than they had been during the 'contaminated tithe' nonsense with Big Bay. They were not as low as they had been during the Famine of 1257. (If uppity Holders withholding tithes could even be called a famine.) Actually, based on the way things were looking now, Aniese was starting to come to the grim realization that there might be an actual famine unfolding.

The recon work she'd done had begun to suggest that tithes were being sent in full... it was just that there wasn't much food to tithe this Turn. Crops were bad. Crops had been bad all over. Some farmers were blaming the unseasonably cold weather, which had lasted for over a Turn now.

Aniese didn't like going hungry, but she could cut back her own meals and live. It wasn't her she was worried about. It was Rhias, still recovering from her sickness; it was the Threadscored riders in the infirmary; and it was Azora, and the other Weyrbrats, still too young to understand why their meal portions were shrinking.

Aniese's hands tightened around the stack of parchment and wax tablets. It was time to face the facts.

The Weyr Council writ large was already aware of the problem. She and the Headwoman and the Weyrsinger had presented the evidence to them a sevenday ago. So far, nothing. No ideas, no solutions.

Not that Aniese was any better off herself. It would have been easy to come down on the Holds and demand that full tithes be restored, crop yields be damned. But already the death toll from sickness was unusually high for the year. Autumn was just as chilly as it had been last year, and there appeared to be a cough starting in the northern cotholds, although Healer Hall was reporting it in other territories as well. A number of elderly cotholders had died already, apparently of this 'cough,' and Healer Hall was not at all certain about how it would spread, given the generally poor nutrition in many communities just then.

Aniese wanted to feed her own people, but she could not justify going to the Holders, who were already showing signs of sickness and weakness, and demanding more tithes. Not when it would only exacerbate their conditions. And, on top of that, would likely create a lot of ill will toward riders. Just when they were finally beginning to recover some estimation, now that the Warryn and Terema fiasco was properly fading from peoples' minds.

But there was another problem, and it too was caused by Fort's demise. (If indeed the strange weather patterns, low crop yields, low tithes, and suspicious sickness could be attributed to the horrific eruption and destruction that had taken place a Turn ago.) With a large portion of Pernese territory now uncovered, it was up to the rest of the Weyrs of Pern to absorb that territory into their normal Threadfall coverage. And Vaioa was doing its part, but it was not without consequence. Injuries were up, and deaths. Aniese suspected that the same would be happening at the other Weyrs, if she checked with them. Flying more Threadfalls than they were accustomed to was bound to result in more casualties.

Aniese knew from her own experience that good nutrition and basic care were the most important components of post-Threadscore care. But with fewer tithes coming in, and lower quality at that, providing good nutrition and care was becoming harder.

She was being pulled in too many directions. All of them were, really. And Weyr Council thus far had failed to come up with a brilliant, save-the-day solution. (If one existed at all.)

So she had convened a different meeting of sorts. In the direct aftermath of Fort, Weyr Council had thrown open a meeting to all the riders of the Weyr; everyone and anyone who was fit enough to be there. And in Aniese's opinion, it had been wildly successful. Bringing fresh minds into the room, with different thoughts and opinions than those usually consulted about the major problems of the Weyr, had opened up the door to new and novel solutions and had allowed them to mount a rapid response to the disaster. It had, ultimately, resulted in the saving of more than a few refugee lives, and had helped them get to the bottom of things more quickly. Such a meeting was exactly what she had in mind now.

The most analytical and problem-solving riders in the Weyr that she could think of, particularly those who didn't usually come before Council. Those who might have new ideas about what to do. How to get through the current situation. And most importantly, who could be trusted with a measure of discretion. It might be clear to most people in the Weyr (or in Pern entirely) that there had been an unseasonably cold Turn, and that crops weren't doing well, but the entire extent of the problem was still not common knowledge, and widespread panic was the last thing anyone wanted.

Aniese paced in the Council room, feeling unusually somber. The fact was, she didn't expect much to come of the meeting today. But she had to hope... and she had to try. Rezeirth too was subdued, perched on the ledge outside the chamber and watching for the other riders to arrive.

[This is an OPEN thread, but please bring only one rider per player, to keep the thread from getting too large! Anyone currently playing a rider is welcome to join.]

Posted Image
Amber Wingsecond Aniese of Gold Rezeirth :: Marble Wingrider Vyra of Grey Theteth :: Granite Wingrider Karen of Blue Ienirth :: Weyrling Master Mai of Green Laeitath :: Candidate Master Kari of Green Seliath :: Sandstone Wingrider Natalia of Green Priyeth :: Sardonyx Weyrling A'den of Black Ezvanth :: Amber Weyrling Cayliss of Garnet Avraith :: Candidate Mirana :: Candidate Piper :: Journeywoman Healer Ylanna :: Weyrfolk Becca

Hurricane Wingrider Seneca of Blue Roryth

Sandstone Wingrider Dacielle of Copper Vylendrieth :: Granite Wingrider L'del of Grey Xakoeth :: Searchrider & Marble Wingrider M’ril of Blue Notalith :: Shale Wingrider K’dyn of Green Scherezath :: Baby Azora

Current Thread Tracker :: Plotter

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Kolstoi
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Schweedish Ambassador
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Bryn entered the council room quietly, trailing her fingers along the door frame in a small moment of uncharacteristic soppiness. If the lower caverns were supposed to be the beating heart of the Weyr, then this room, with all of its chairs and sober feeling hanging in the air, must be the brain. So many weighty decisions had been made in this room, their impact rippling across Pern. She'd been present for a few of them, warming one of the chairs with a head full of anger.

She was still angry.

But it had cooled into a slow churning magma instead of the eruption it had been so long ago, when she had first brought Aniese the news of the purposefully spoiled tithes. Tithes, tithes. They were still a problem, and since it was problem she couldn't solve by grasping it in her fists or crushing it beneath the heel of her boot, she hadn't made much headway on solving it. She didn't have any new ideas or suggestions, but there was nothing on Pern that would keep her out of this discussion at this point. Bryn was going to see this through to the end.

She took a seat, watching Aniese with her mouth set in a grim line. The Weyr Council had already been debriefed on the subject matter of today's meeting, so nothing Aniese had to say would be anything new. They were teetering on the edge of famine. It was Bryn's personal opinion that the Fort disaster had put some kind of curse on the other Weyrs, but it wasn't one she was keen on sharing. Spreading superstitious nonsense would only scare or alarm other people, and they didn't need to be panicked and hungry.

"I hope this meeting has the same kind of luck the last one did," she said finally, leaning back in her chair and propping an ankle up on her knee. "I'm eager for any solution."
Edited by Kolstoi, Feb 11 2018, 07:55 PM.
♥ Marble Wingleader Bryn & Garnet Izaxth ♥ Shale Wingrider A'yar & Copper Sith ♥ Ruby Class Weyrlings Ayanna & Copper Acosezeth ♥ Sandstone Wingrider Gwen & Brown Eamith ♥ Dragonhealer/Amber Wingrider T'ian & Blue Kyzzith ♥ Shale Wingrider H'ic & Green Cearth ♥Marble Wingrider L'aal & Graphite Aelith ♥ Steel Squad Tosst & Grey Tosk ♥ Brass Squad Heliodor & Green HeskAilwyn, dragon candidate ♥ Black Weyrling B'wen & Black Tristonth

[align=center]
💕Plotting Masterpost💕[/align]
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The Bounce
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Definitely All Marshmallow
The Healers had requested she take more of a step back in her duties. The migraines, after all, were not going away, though they were no more frequent than they had been since their very unwelcome return, going on a Turn ago now when that day had occurred-- nightmarish as it had been, but for Wyn, the real nightmare had been what she had since learned had happened to more than one 'rider across Pern, that which had nearly happened to her.

But it hadn't. And if it still spoiled her sleep, then that, and the migraines, were problems she would endure unless it actually crippled her. Because it meant Nespeth, at least, was still with her.

but it had been too close.

Needless to say, she'd very, very politely told them where to stick their ideas. There wasn't a place or person or event here on this planet or between that would stop Wyn now, not when something so desperately hungered for in the long, lonely, exhausting slog to power had finally been placed in her hands.

Unless they all died of famine or erratic Fall. That would be ironic.

The little blue blob she had yet to think of a name for (Blob might have been easy, but she had something like class to upkeep) stirred from where he was wrapped about her shoulders, and though her cheek had twitched more than once in the very brief period she'd had him at his laziness, Wyn couldn't quite stifle the twitch at the corner of her mouth when he looked up at her, then about the Council Room as they entered, before glancing up at Coal's Wingsecond once more and brushing his cheek fondly against hers.

Of course, said blue blob didn't care a whit for what titles she carried, beyond feeder, perch and maybe cuddle bug project. That was left to the rather more developed faculties of Nespeth, who offered the subdued Rezeirth a soft croon of greeting once she'd deposited her rider, then taking off for the Rim so as to leave room for the other dragons arriving. She did not take up much space, mind, but nor did Nespeth see this as a reason to be rude.

Speaking of rude, she murmured sweetly when she felt her rider roll her eyes at the comment come from the 'rider who'd turned up just before them, You are never in a position to judge anyone who *speaks their mind*. She simply got there before you did.

'Your comment might have more relevance if something useful actually followed it up. You know, kind of like the thing you were just complaining over my conduct about,' Wyn retorted. She let it lie beyond that tart comment, however, neither wishing to disabuse her dragon of the more consistent, thoughtful serenity she'd taken up with both maturity and time away from Fort Weyr nor wanting to let her know that yes, actually, she was probably right.

Instead, the Graphite Rider settled herself into a chair, offering Aniese a weary wink in greeting as she arranged her long limbs comfortably.

"I may have something for you regarding the Fall issue," she admitted quietly, if with a little,
wry smile, "But I'll wait my turn." And the obvious, obviously-- for others to turn up.
Edited by The Bounce, Feb 12 2018, 02:15 AM.
Wyn of Graphite Nespeth (Wingsecond, Coal Wing)
S'an of Black Pliadeth (Sardonyx Weyrling)
Bectie of Brown Bectisk (Patrol/Guard)
Jassi of Blue Jassisk (Patrol)
Riryn (Weyrbrat)
Samiko (JWN Healer)
Neela (JWN Beastcrafter)
Kirran (Candidate)
Akinyi (Candidate)
Jyremi (Candidate)
Bol (Candidate)







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Tesla
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The Celibate Scientist
Moderator
Following closely on Nespeth's heels, Parath touched down on the ledge beside her, warbling a greeting. But though the graphite delivered her rider and retreated to the rim, the grey only moved far enough to clear a space for incoming dragons. Crouching down near Rezeirth, she offered the gold a deferential Good morning, and then settled in for what would no doubt be a lengthy session.

Caylan didn't linger out in the cold. Following Wyn inside the chamber, she gave a nod and a tight smile to Aniese and Bryn, before claiming a seat next to the garnetrider. Like the outher councilmembers, Caylan was eager to get the meeting underway, and hopeful that something worthwhile might come of it.

Despite the challenges Vaioa had faced in organizing it, there was no question the Harvest Gather had been a success. It had drawn a somewhat smaller crowd than usual, perhaps, and certainly there had been fewer options for food. But it had been a welcome break from the stress that plagued the continent, nonetheless.

But ever since that evening, Caylan had felt a creeping dread; a too-present awareness of their situation, and the Weyr's dwindling resources. The effects of the Fort eruption were still being felt, and in many ways the situation was more dire than ever. The Holds were giving all they could afford to spare in tithes, and Vaioa was on the verge of having to ration their meager supplies.

Even more worrying than the food shortage, however, and the extra Threadfall the wings were forced to fly, were the reports of sickness spreading in some of the smaller Holds. Faranth forbid a plague struck Pern now. It wouldn't be the first, of course, but it could hardly come at a worse time.

The Threadfall issue, however, was not one Caylan had spent much time trying to troubleshoot; she hadn't thought of it as a problem with any sort of solution, beyond what they were doing already. Thread fell, and dragons were needed to fight it, and the Weyrs would have to adjust.

And yet, here was a graphiterider who claimed to have something to offer. As a wingleader, Caylan would be more than happy to consider whatever suggestion she had.
"Look forward to hearing it," she said gruffly, though with a smile.

Posted Image

Elmi & Garnet Basteth | Az'riel & Copper Liyanth
Singrid & Copper Wiliath | J'nai & Brown Elokith
Caylan & Grey Parath | El'jir & Blue Morrith
Savka & Blue Ripariath | N'din & Green Ingalath
J'phel & Black Davoth | I'vend & Graphite Rerioth
Sankal & Black Sansk | Avry & Blue Ask

(Plotter)
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Red
Thread Murderer
K'thar was tired. With all the recent injuries, the healers had been flat out and the dragonhealers were no differnt. Sprains, wrenches, scores, cuts... Injuries danced through his head, and worries followed them. Without correct nutrition, injuries didn't heal, if injuries didn't heal, they were down dragons and more injuries would occur through tiredness alone. He rubbed his hand across his face, wondering if klah would help. His thoughts were interrupted by the oddly subdued voice of Yravith.

K'thar, people are starting to gather for the meeting you were going to. the green was perched on their ledge, looking across the bowl in as close a direction as the council room as she could. Dragons are going over. We'll go now?

She sounded tired too and K'thar, flushed with sudden anger, got to his feet. Anger at what, he couldn't tell, but he was suddenly galvanised. It wasn't fair that dragons were being dragged down because of human problems. Glint, who had been perched on his bonded's shoulder, was shaken and shrieked stridently, setting off Flip into a startled cry before he and the craterlizard looked worriedly at K'thar. He held out a strip of dried meat for them both, in silent apology and looked at them both seriously. "If you come, you need to stay quiet, you understand? No flitting about." Both lizards stared solemnly at him, and Glint crept into his shirt as Flip settled himself on K'thar's shoulders. Come on then love, we're ready

Yravith hovered at the ledge to the council room. In deference to Rezeirth, she bowed her head and chirped a greeting to she and Nespeth as her rider unfastened his straps and dropped off her shoulder onto the ledge. Thank you, why don't you go for a swim and relax.. Yravith crooned in reply and took off to the rim so she could keep an eye on the ledge, in case he wanted picked up.

K'thar bowed to the gold that was almost guarding the ledge and the grey next to her and entered the room, looking about him he saw he was one of the first few arrivals. "Greetings Aniese" he turned to face the others " and greeting to you all." He signed as he took a seat. So tired. "Thank you for calling this meeting, I have a suggestion which may help in the long run, possibly."
Edited by Red, Feb 19 2018, 11:55 AM.
Candidates:
Marlach
Weyrlings:
Miyaro, Grey Feliceth, Blue Fitch and Green Fliss : P'tir, Bronze Jaerth and Obsidian Spook
Dragonriders:
M'thos, Blue Sidaminth and Blue Cullie : Tr'fen, Blue Tunith and Green Chitter : F'tir and Blue Kirtoth : Kirtesh and Blue Istioth : K'thar, Green Yravith, Brown Flip and Pyrite Glint : M'ran, Brown Wrath and Green Mimic : G'rev, Green Beeklath and Blue Sky
Wherhandlers:
Riza, Blue Risk and Brown Reese
Wher Candidates:
Maren and Green Whisp
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Liltaino
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Friendly Neighborhood Spider
It was only a matter of time before a meeting was going to be called forth. It wasn’t surprising to one paying close attention to the happenings of the Weyr that something indeed was going wrong. It was kept quiet for as long as it possibly could before news of what becoming a bigger issue then originally thought gotten out. R’ok was luckily enough to put several things together at the time before so. The changes were subtle, but the rations were smaller then they once were. The cold weather was thanks to that and having over a decade under his belt R’ok was prepared.

The bronze rider had discussed numerous ideas that came to his mind with Grejoth this past sevendays. Throwing out random thoughts Incase his dragon input could help elaborate on the matter. It also helped the the bronze was able to pick up details over the coarse by simply listening when R’ok could not. So the two had a couple ideas they would like to bring up for discussion at the meeting.

Many have began to gather already, it would be wise if you took a seat soon.

The bronze’s voice was more irritated then it should’ve been, which had caused the bronze rider to long up from the scrolls he was skimming through and at his dragon. It only took a few seconds to find the source of annoyance as several flits fluttered about Grejoth’s head. ’Still not enjoying them? R’ok gently teases much to his dragons’s displeasure.

I do not see the need for such things. was Grejoth’s only retort. However the bronze was quite happy deep inside that His was no longer an emotional wreck since the death or Rye. Vaioa has been a good choice for transfer and to see His able to no longer be in inner turmoils was enough reasoning for him to put up with the incredible nuisances of overwhelming flit population.

The bronze touched down soon after the others as he bugled out his presence and greetings towards the dragons before him. Dipping his wedge shaped head towards Rezeirth in respect. It has been quite sometime since the two were in close proximity. If His’ memories served the bronze correctly it was since the time he had caught her in her Flight. The same could be side for R’ok and Aniese.

The bronze rider patted his dragons hide roughly after he descended from the saddle, before the bronze maneuvered furthered away from the others.....mostly to get as far away as possible from the flits. The smile that graced R’oks lips was short lived as he glanced away from his dragon and towards the growing crowd. His beard was due to the colder weather had reached its usually length over about six inches. Usually the warmer weather would had caused him to trim it short, but as the weather was cooler the usual he had allowed it to remain long.

He gave quick nod of acknowledgement towards the other riders, who all like himself held a hint of worry expression within their eyes. One could say R’ok was puffing out his chest, but for no reason anyone would think. He made himself appear taller and sobered his expression to a blank canvas to prepare himself of the words about to be exchanged within this meeting. Striking blue hues locked into Aniese as he dipped his head in respect before he took a seat. His scrolls left upon Grejoth’s saddle. ”I hope with fresh eyes we can come to a reasonable conclusion to the matters before us. I may have an idea or two, but if they could work is not something I alone can foresee.” He said to the group before him. Long fingers intertwined with one another as he propped his elbows on the table and rested his chin against his hands.
Posted Image--R’ok ‣ Wingrider ‣ Bronze Grejoth ‣ #8d6f2a--Posted Image
Posted Image-Karaya ‣ Wingthird ‣ Copper Alduth ‣ #FF9900-Posted Image
Posted Image- E’ias ‣ Wingrider ‣ Brown Zooketh ‣ #674825-Posted Image
Posted Image--Zaurak ‣ Wherling ‣ Brown Zaurask ‣ #652a02Posted Image
Posted Image------.---------- Vaako ‣ Candidate--------.----------Posted Image
Posted Image ------.-—------Saiph ‣ Candidate-——-----.----—---Posted Image
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marchosias
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& grey Felseth
It had nearly been ten turns now - a decade. T'yov had come a long way from the arrogant child he was when first entering candidacy. A handful of turns back, he slowly began to realise that he had far longer still yet to go. Though the reality of Threadfall had been nearly traumatic, and oh how he had chafed through adolescence against Weyr regulations, his life in Vaioa had tempered him into something greater than he could have ever aspired to be.

His promotion to wingthird had been a surprise yet was well-earned (in his humble opinion), and he settled into the role quickly. Criticism he once would take personally he now accepted, always seeking new ways to improve. Today's open-door council meeting would be another opportunity to hear diverse opinions and see thought put into action. Since when had that become interesting to him?

He laced his flying boots with only slight unease as Serelath stood watch at the lip of their weyr. T'yov was no stranger to the details of this council. Things were looking grim. All of Pern had felt the Fort blast, and the aftermath was a continual reminder of that horrifying day. It was unseasonably cold, people were going hungry, and holdfolk had been perishing of a suspicious cough. Weyrs were stretched thin covering unfamiliar territory and food was rationed.

Nothing, however, would be solved by thinking about how terrible things seemed. Finishing his boots, T'yov tested his dragon's flight leathers automatically before vaulting up her shoulder, and settling on the base of her great neck. They shared a companionable silence, both just as pensive as the other. It almost felt like they were thinking the same things, occasionally - a single mind, powered by two brains. It was wonderful.

When they landed, Serelath deposited him neatly before taking off to bask on a ledge elsewhere. T'yov had told her how busy the council ledge was going to get, and already activity was starting to pick up. He noticed his wingleader quickly. He admired Bryn, for her efficiency in leading without sacrificing a vivid personality. She was inspiring, really.

He slipped into a seat of his own with little fanfare, and began to watch the newcomers file in with patience, nodding politely in response to those that acknowledged the room. The Weyr's best minds would be here today - it was going to be good to witness.
|
|-[DRAGONRIDERS]
|      |---[AMBER] [DRAGONHEALER]---- R'SUL [OF] RAKYTH [*]
|      |---[SHALE] [WINGRIDER]---------- Y'LEN [OF] BERASATH
|      |---[MARBLE] [WINGTHIRD]-------- T'YOV [OF] SERELATH [*]
|      |---[MARBLE] [WINGRIDER]------- TAICIA [OF] BALFORTH [*]
|      |---[FLINT] [C. MASTER]----------- S'DRA [OF] ECHONOETH [*]
|      |---[COAL] [WINGRIDER]---------- ARRYN [OF] MAHARITH
|
|-[WHERHANDLERS]
|       |---[STEEL] [PATROLLER]--------- SIJARD [OF] SIJASK [*]
|       |---[PEWTER] [WORKER]----- REIMHART [OF] REIMHASK [* - * - *]
|
|-[ONPCS] - [R'EN] / [HL'RAN] / [T'LON] --- [TRACKER]
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Mistywren
Wingsecond
C'nar dragged a hand roughly over his face. The rasp of stubble against calloused hands rang out into his quiet room. He'd need to shave again soon if noise alone was a good indicator, but he hardly had time for that. His eyes hurt, a dull ache behind them signaling that he'd stayed up far too late again, but at least he had something to bring to the table now besides the repetition of what Granite and the other volunteers had managed so far. A late night and Visani's patience were to thank for that. A quick splash of water on his face and gathering up his items he retreated from his room into Dyath's.

The bronze looked at him with a critical eye but thankfully said nothing about his appearance. He apparently passed muster, just barely, but he knew the whirling eyes fell on his visibly tired and unkempt face. C'nar to shoot a scowl at his dragon, half daring him to start something, but the bronze just huffed and shuffled his wings, turning his attention towards the bowl beyond their ledge.
'And here I thought you were ready to go, quit glowering or we'll be late.' Prompting the man continue with his sour expression but clamber up, settling in with a moment to note that he'd not lose anything on his person in the descent. The air hitting his damp face sending a sharp sting as the pair started on their short trek.

Dyath rumbled a deep greeting to the dragons who had already deposited their riders and settled in to wait out the talks. Landing on the ledge himself, the small bronze arched his neck in his usual poised manner before dipping it, most notably to the queen and the grey beside her. C'nar sliding from his back and hastened his way towards the door, nodding to the dragons he passed on his way, but his long stride carrying him past quickly.

The bronze, seeing his rider's quick departure turned, relocating himself nearby in the bowl and finding himself a spot under Rukbat's warm rays. Settling in a regal lounging pose to wait along with the others. Making sure he was nothing short of a perfect example of what a bronze dragon should be.

C'nar deftly opened the fasteners of his riding jacket with one hand as he walked towards the council room, removing the hides he'd tucked within for the ride down. Tucking them under his arm as he strode onwards. Eyes taking a brief moment to adjust to the contrast from the lighting outside. Glancing around the room he took stock of who else had arrived so far. Most so far were recognizable as ranking riders within the wings, people who had roles in the previous fruitless meetings. It wasn't just the new faces he hoped would offer new insight, but there was still potential that the others had shared equally restless nights as he had.

He nodded to the gathered group making sure to be more directly respectful towards his superiors. Quickly finding himself a free seat he planted his hides down and removed his jacket fully, placing it on the back of his chair and settling. That nervous ball of energy in his gut swirled like scattering trundlebugs. He hated the idea of now talking in front of even more people and the risk of messing up his meanings again.

Trying not to dwell on the near at hand what ifs he focused his attention on what he'd brought. Granite and the other helping hands that had weedled their way into the paired missions had done well enough to help supplement the gather, but he still had his worries about the set up since Caylan had approved his idea. Worries being heavily plural. Others may have insight on the developments he proposed today, and perhaps it would also result in expanding what was being done already. He wasn't about to risk his wing's well being pressing them to stretch too thin.

Forehead held in hand, elbow planted firmly on the table top as he waited for others to follow his own entrance and for the meeting to start. Holding back a yawn with a deep sigh and moving on to his next hide.
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Shrike
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Weyrling
Politics, bah. Politics couldn't solve a hungry stomach, and Victra was the first to admit it- she was hungry. Cutting back on her own portions hurt, though it was something that needed to be done. It wasn't as if Korasheth would let her get away with stealing seconds anymore. They had to look proper, had to be a symbol for the entire Weyr, and Victra would never hear the end of it if she took so much as an extra heel of bread.

The gold worried- unduly, Victra would say, though Korasheth would say she worried the perfect amount. She couldn't easily control rumbling bellies, and that made her more anxious in turn, leading to sleepless nights for the both of them, staring out over the Weyrbowl as if an answer was visible just around the next bend.

You need to attend the meeting.

"I'm going, I'm going." Victra was prepared to go as is, but Korasheth blocked the entrance to their weyr until her rider had changed into something more formal, and certainly cleaner, all crisp lines. Someone had beaten the wrinkles out of it, but it certainly hadn't been Victra.

I wish to know what happens at the meeting.

"I'll relay to you what I can. Calm down, you big lump." Korasheth leaned away from Victra's scratches, not pleased at the answer, but finally relented, taking her rider to the appropriate ledge and then settling down next to the dragons already present, ready to sit in the cold sun and simply lurk, a golden gargoyle that was far too poised to be anything living. Tension was writ into every limb, however, and it was easy to see that the Queen's eyes whirled orange with anxiety.

The room was already crowded by the time Victra arrived, giving Rezeirth a nod and trying to take in the sea of familiar faces. They were all older than she was, all vastly more experienced, but she had to be there, didn't she? And she couldn't shrug this off and say it didn't directly effect her. Her stomach grumbled to underscore her point, and as Victra glanced about at the others, she sincerely hoped they had a solution, because she as shards didn't. She was in over her head and potentially drowning in it.

"I have nothing helpful to add," Victra began.

But? Korasheth coached.

"But I will gladly hear all ideas and I am open to them." The words that came from the young rider's mouth scarcely sounded like her own, but maybe shutting up and simply listening would do her a world of good.

"For Faranth's sake, there has to be something we can do." Ah, yes. That sounded more like the old Victra.
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Wingrider Ilemin and Gray Selfeth

Wingrider Victra and Gold Korasheth

Wingrider Timora and Green Finenth

Wingrider Zuma and Copper Vanitoth

(#301f26)(#4cc487)(#ffaa80)(#c57453)[/align]
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As Sh'ol slipped quietly into the council room, he eyed the table he still did not believe he deserved a place at. As a Wingthird, he was entitled to a seat at that table, even in meetings held exclusively for the Weyr Council, one of the most important governing bodies of the weyr. Even if the decisions were ultimately up to the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, he had a voice, the potential to influence those decisions. And that terrified him.

His father had been pleased to hear of his promotion; they had talked at length after Sh'ol was offered the position, and Shaelsen's eyes had been alight as he spoke of the possibilities. For the first time in a very long time, his father had looked genuinely proud of him, and Sh'ol let him talk, his throat too taut to speak. This. This was what he had longed for—for turns. Why couldn't it always be this way? Why couldn't his father smile like that when he had been Searched? When he Impressed?

You will vote for what most benefits us, of course, his father had said. Then magnanimously he added, like some great benefactor, Someone has to stand up for Keroon.

Why did he have to say things like that? Sh'ol just nodded dumbly, his throat in knots, the sour feeling in his stomach overpowering anything that might have been sweet about the occasion.

Now, taking his seat at the table next to Wyn, he felt something like a tunnelsnake in the grass. He could not bring himself to speak at the Weyr Council meetings. He attended this meeting only because he was desperate for a solution, and hoped that Aniese would be right; that someone outside of the Weyr Council would bring in a fresh idea, one they could work with. Otherwise the suffering he had seen firsthand over the months in Keroon would worsen, the tension mounting in the holds would increase, and his father would place the burden squarely on his shoulders.

Sh'ol was not equipped for that.

There was one thing he and Shaelsen could agree on: Keroon needed help. Every hold did. They would not be able to continue tithes much longer, not before they reached a breaking point. And then where would that leave Vaioa? Where would that leave Pern?

Already, others were coming forward, ready with ideas. Sh'ol would sit, and wait, and watch, and assess. And hope their ideas had merit.
O'zen : Bronze Lenth
Lowen : Beryllium Lerriloth
Jerund : Brown Jerusk
Hama : Green Hamask
Eevai : Garnet Iopeth
Sh'ol : Graphite Hellioth
Kh'sev : Grey Saiyeth
Bervaidi : Blue Bervask
Syrsha : Brown Kalayth
Rosinthew : Candidate
Khola : Weyrfolk
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