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Council Meeting: Defense of Vaioa
Topic Started: Aug 12 2011, 02:54 PM (1,546 Views)
Iradial
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MEDIOCRE
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O'zen's fingers drummed impatiently in the silence of the council room. He was seated in chair at the end of the table, leaning back and occasionally shifting as time passed. Running a hand through his dark hair, he shot another glance at the doorway. People ought to be arriving soon. Ranking holders, crafters, riders... they were asked to attend this morning meeting, for its topic affected them all.

It had been nearly two months since the bandits had attacked the Mine, getting away with both goods and hostages. Since he and A'yar had retrieved the Masterminer and the two candidates, as well as most of the stolen copper, they had heard nothing from the renegades. It would seem that they had scared them off for good, but O'zen could not be so sure.

No. They were still out there, still holdless; only they were now humiliated and likely very angry at their failure. The Weyr, as well as the Hold and Mine, needed better defense. Flaming dragons proved to be effective to a degree, but with Thread on the horizon O'zen could not afford to spare enough riders to provide an adequate solution.

They are coming, Lenth warned him. The bronze perched outside near the entrance, greeting the arriving dragons and regarding silently the men and women trailing inside, his opalescent eyes whirling slowly as he stared.

O'zen straightened up in his seat and cleared his throat. This ought to be interesting.

Calling all bronzeriders/copperriders, crafters, and holders! If you'd like to participate in the meeting, feel free to create an NPC.
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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Bramble
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Tis the season for santa dragons
Shock then horror. Those were Zilla's two competing emotions upon the news that she was expected to attend a council meeting in the the Weyr. What input could she possibly have. She had only been at the Hold a short time and now she was to attend a council meeting being help by the new Weyrleader O'zen. She had contemplated coming up with a good excuse not to go, but curiosity got the better of her. She chose a dress of lavender, her favorite color, with blue embroidery along the neck line and the sleeve cuffs. She always had enjoyed dressing up for a gather and a meeting was a bit like a gather, wasn't it? She placed a silver clip to hold back her hair and turned to her only admirer. "How do I look Thim?" Her blue gave a happy trill and rose from his resting spot to assume his usually place on her shoulders. "No Thim I'm sorry but you can't come this time. You have to stay here." Zilla said firmly fixing her flitt with a firm stare before exiting. She hoped he would obey, but one never knew what her little blue might do next.

Zilla swallowed hard as she made her way past the watching Bronze. She knew in her mind he wouldn't harm her, but she had never seen a Bronze this close and the shear size of him was a little off putting. Trying her best not to seem rushed Zilla entered the council chamber her gaze immediately moving to O'zen sitting in a chair at the head of the long table. Even sitting it was easy to see that he was a tall if thin man. Not devastatingly handsome, but he had a quiet confidence about him that seemed to smooth over what he lacked in outward appearance. Realizing she was the first to arrive Zilla faltered for a moment before sliding into an empty seat. She managed a small smile in O'zen's directiong before speaking, "Good-day Weyrleader I am Zilla Journeywoman Tailor Craft." She spoke politely suddenly wondering if she should have introduced herself before sitting or even spoken at all. Shards!
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Kolstoi
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Council summons, Sith informed him, one eye opening to watch A'yar. The copper had turned himself on his ledge so that his unmarred side was receiving the brunt of the sun, a carefully draped wing covering the myriad of burns on the other that had finally been left uncovered for the remainder of their healing. Sith was still prickly about the incident, and the outcome of the flight, but A'yar could sense the pride lurking underneath the angrier sentiments - Sith had survived the episode and would probably have some scarring to serve as a reminder of his hardiness.

A'yar nodded, setting the tunic he was repairing back down on his desk. He was careful to place the threaded needle somewhere he'd be able to find it later, not wanting for it to drop on the floor where he could 'find' it with his foot. Already dressed and presentable, he pushed his chair back so that he could stand, deciding that in today's heat he could forgo his jacket.

I'll walk there, he told Sith, stopping by his dragon long enough to pat the striped snout affectionately. He could feel the mixed reaction - relief coupled with indignation - and chuckled, pressing a kiss to the hide. "You need to rest. Enjoy your chance to be lazy, Sith."

It was one thing to walk the corridors with a purpose, A'yar mused, and another to amble without cause. He'd done both plenty of the turns, and with a laugh, his mind reached back into the days he'd served his candidacy and weyrlinghood here, these same hallways and arching stone ceilings his domain. Sith had always been proud and eager to achieve, and A'yar supposed that with some effort from himself they'd earned their current spot within Weyr politics.

He passed through the door into the meeting room without fanfare or announcement, crossing the room to take his place beside O'zen. Once he was seated, he gave a quick, bouncy salute, patting his Wingleader, and now Weyrleader, on the shoulder as he offered his congratulations. "It was a beauty of a Flight," A'yar said, not having had the opportunity to see much of the man since. He made sure to beam his smile at the rest of the people filing in, nodding in particular to the nervous-looking Zilla who was bobbing off to one side.
♥ 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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Kolstoi
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Schweedish Ambassador
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The desert was hardly bearable at any time, Heliodor thought to herself, pulling lightly at the gossamer cloth she'd pulled over her face to shield her mouth, nose and eyes from the sun and sand. The tinkling of her bracelets was in a sort of pseudo-tandem with her runnerbeast's hooves, the merry sound wafting behind her. Heliodor travelled alone today - only her presence was required at these meetings. Apprentices, nor even Journeymen, needed to sit it on Weyr business. Why she had to be there at all puzzled her. She'd much rather be back in front of the glass ovens, or still in her warm bed. A pleasant kind of warm, much unlike this blasted Death Heat that descended on her from all angles.

Her animal's tawny coat beside the reddish Vaioan sand was pretty, Heliodor decided, rolling the two tones over in her mind for future projects. She always liked to present the Weyrwoman with some little trinket or other whenever she visited. Maybe at the next Hatching she'd be able to use those lovely colors together to appeal to some sort of sense of...Vaion pride or something. Heliodor laughed, nudging her mount to speed it on its way. She was tired of being out in this heat, it was only going to make her sweat and flatten the elaborate curls she'd set her hair in earlier that morning.

The relative shade of the runnerbeast pens was a welcome relief, and after leaving detailed instructions as to the care of her beloved mare, Heliodor waltzed into the Weyr proper, delicately pulling the gauzy cloth from over face. It doubled as a simple veil over her hair, which had also been kept from the sand as much as possible. She fiddled with one of her many rings as she climbed the stairs to the council room, careful to take long, slow deep breaths so as to prevent herself from becoming winded. She simply wasn't as in shape as all these fit dragonriders! The Glasscraft Hall had not nearly as many stairs, and odd inclines. Ignoring the slight burn in her thighs, Heliodor swept herself into the room, a laugh bubbling up from her lips as she waved daintily, settling into a seat. "Greetings, Weyrleader," she crooned, though she smiled at A'yar as well, and the nervous looking woman off to one side.
♥ 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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Zen
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also, i can kill you with my brain
It went without saying that Cam didn’t want to go to this meeting. He knew what it was going to be about. He knew why he was called. This meeting would have to do with the ever-encroaching Red Star. Even now as he glanced into the sky he noted its position. Looming. He scowled at it. He had never wanted his daughter to grow up in the shadow of the thing, but he knew that the Star would wreak havoc on Pern for many, many Turns once it laid down its first seeds of Thread.

We will face it soon. Verandrinith hummed as he winged up to the council chambers. ‘Yeah, well, not soon enough. I wish it were over.

Verandrinith knelt down so that C’amryn could slide off of his shoulders. As was customary, Vera wasn’t wearing any riding straps and Cam wasn’t strapped in. He could have easily slid off of Vera if he hadn’t been paying attention. Lucky for the both of them, Vera was paying attention enough for three men and ten dragons. But he loved it when Cam rode bareback. It took skill to ride bareback because of the lack of restraints, but some would call it something other than skill.

Cam knew Verandrinith was going to take to a ledge to watch the going-ons of the Weyr. He didn’t care much for Weyr politics except where the Gold was involved. C’amryn himself slid easily into a seat next to A’yar. The man was nice enough, but Verandrinith didn’t necessarily like Sith. As he sat, he nodded to the Weyrleader before nodding to A’yar, Zilla, and the other person, Heliodor. He’d seen both women around once in a while but hadn’t really gotten to talk to them.

“What’s today’s talk going to be about?” He asked good-naturedly, though he already had a guess. Shards, they all could guess, and their guesses would probably be right.
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Rai
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Weyrling
C'as had no clue about the council meeting, as he had only really just arrived at Vaoia and had not been informed. Charth knew, however. Why should bronzeriders and copperriders get to attend, and not brownriders? Did they think that bronzes and coppers were better than he was, a brown? They were sorely mistaken. C'as was going to that council meeting, and Charth would make sure he was there!

Lenth has summoned all of the ranking members of the Weyr to the council meeting.

The brown's voice was matter of fact, and C'as looked over, surprised. Summoning him to a council meeting? Well, that wasn't too unusual. Wingriders and the Wingseconds and thirds sometimes were summoned to meetings. But what could it be about that they all were? He didn't question it, nor think to. The fact that Charth might have been being deceptive about it didn't even cross the brownrider's mind. No, instead he quickly went about making sure he was dressed in a decent shirt and trousers and that his hair, which was usually a little mussed, was not too much so. It took only a couple of minutes, and then he was making his way to the council room. What greeted him there was a little surprising.

He had expected riders, but here were two women whom did not bear rider knots. Them, and O'zen. Was it some kind of a joke, perhaps? How embarrassing it would be if it were! Yet he kept his expression neutral, and greeted the Weyrleader with the proper respect. The last time he had seen O'zen had been Lisenyth's flight. A fact that Charth was still quite obviously sore over.

"Greetings, Weyrleader." Then he took up a seat, not near O'zen but somewhere in the middle of the assorted seats. He was Wingthird, and would leave the closer seats to the Wingleaders and Wingseconds. Who were these two women, however? He was certain that he would have opportunity to find out, were this not a jest. How he hoped it was not! He would have words for Charth were it...

He looked around the many seats in the council room, wondering exactly how many people would come here for this meeting. What it involved he knew not.
[align=center]Wingrider K'ion of Copper Tribayth
Wingrider C'as of Brown Charth
Wingrider Raine of Grey Mysth
Wingrider Cayden of Grey Fidaeth
Wingrider Skyelir of Blue Leoth
Wingrider Alexias of Blue Hadeth
Wingrider Faile of Green Bayluth
Dragon Candidate Ryn
Wher Candidate Ryodan[/align]
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Watchdragon
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Star Stone Busybody
It had been a long time since a meeting she had not scheduled had happened, but Rhyssone decided she quite liked it. There had been cordial discussion between herself and her Weyrleader, so she was not entirely out of the loop, but it was nice to see someone else planning strategies and coming up with counterarguments for a change. All she had to do was attend and perhaps give her opinion.

With a quick check to be sure she was presentable, she left her weyr, taking the interior corridor to the Council Room. One of the benefits of rank, she supposed, and she certainly wasn't going to complain.

Without any fuss, she entered the room and took her seat next to O'zen. This was his show, and he would run it. But even if they hadn't magically fallen in love because their dragons were mates, they were partners in running the Weyr, and she would support him. Vaioa would suffer if she did not.
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cheddarness8
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Weyrsinger
Pertor's cane wasn't tapping out its usual rapport as he bustled into the Council Room. He was still a little hunched, but the wooden shaft was tucked neatly in the crook of one arm. He bobbed his head slightly at all gathered and gave a wave. Something about the dusty Masterminer seemed spirited this morning, yet disjointed. Energetic, but absent-minded. The wave wasn't directed at anyone in particular, and he certainly didn't speak. Heli, Weyrleader, Weyrwoman, riders, crafters, fardlers, whatever... He wasn't here to socialize; he was here on business.Pertor had been a rare sight since the attack on the Mines, long before the recent Hatching, and even the Flight. He cast some ink-smeared hide rolls onto the table, perhaps hinting at what he had been up to.

He took his seat. It took a few scoots to get it... centered, just as the Masterminer preferred. It took him another few minutes to properly stack his hides. They needed to be aligned just so, edge-to-edge. Fitting them between the dark grain patterns on the wood made him feel as though they where they belonged. After his hide sculpture was completed, Pertor removed his flask from his hip and didn't care to make his drinking from it a private thing. He also didn't shy away from the resulting hiccup.

A very confused and highly ranked Tannercrafter sitting to Pertor's left was eying him down. Pertor eyed the older man right back, his mood suddenly foul. He didn't like that expression. He didn't like this man. The Masterminer took a big whiff, then proceeded with his challenge to the sour-faced Tannercrafter.

"What did you have for breakfast?!" he growled.

The other man quickly relocated. Satisfied that his turf had been defended, Pertor went about placing his flask on the table just as carefully as how he had placed his scrolls. He wanted his stash right where he could see it, just in case something were to happen to it. If he could see it, though, nothing would. That was logical. The Masterminer mumbled away to himself while he concentrated. Perhaps the table would like to hear about his plan.

"Did you know about whers? It's the eyes, you know, really. It's all just in their eyes..."
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ChoCoaTheArT
Weyrsinger
Finally finally there was going to be a discussion about what to do about those sharding bandits. The harper easily made his way to the council room he’d missed the last meeting since he was away at the Harper Hall taking care of some business. He never wanted another raid like that to happen again, if he had to have his flitt Beryl out there making sure there were no bandits out and about he’d gladly do that. The pointless loss of life made him sick to his stomach, the fact that those bitrans were so selfish that they would rather steal from others and hurt them than do their own work. Being the senior journeyman of the weyr had its perks but he was hoping that he’d soon be able to enter the meeting as a master, and actually have the credibility of the title.

Numael for once was properly on time, the weyrleader’s bronze regarded him silently. Both a copper and a brown had arrived as well, “greetings, my good sirs.” He bowed his head towards them and then proceeded to the council table. “My greetings Weyrwoman. Weyrleader, it’s good to see this finally being addressed.” He stated curtly, He truly wasn’t a fan of O’zen’s personality but hopefully the man would be able to get something done. He recognized Pertor, Heliodor, a few of the dragonriders and another younger girl who looked a little nervous. He took his seat next to her, “Numael, Journeyman Harper. A pleasure to meet you.” He introduced himself quickly to her.
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Bramble
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Tis the season for santa dragons
Zilla straightened as more riders and crafters began entering the chamber, not that she had been slouching any. She nodded or gave a small smile to those who acknowledged her presence, some seeming a bit more curious about it than others. She smoothed back a stray lock with slender fingers allowing her gaze to travel around to room. She watched the entrance and settling in of the Masterminer with interest. It was in stark contrast to the Weyrwoman's quiet entrance.

Her visual investigations were cut short as Numael entered and after his greeting took a seat beside her. She thought he would have perhaps taken a seat closer to one of the more senior crafters, though after watching Pertor chase off the Tannercrafter maybe the choice was not that strange. "Greetings Harper Numael. She answered with a warm smile, "Zilla, Journeywoman Tailor Craft." She spoke softly.
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