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a desert triumvirate of Hold, Weyr, and Mine. Thread's return and bandit raiding brought strife between weyr and hold, but the bandits' recent defeat has returned the region to an uneasy peace. Now, a shipwreck on a forgotten continent and the decision to settle this rediscovered land has opened up a world of opportunity to Vaioa, if only they can handle the dangers.








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The Mystery of the Missing Craft Supplies; {{Open!}}
Topic Started: Jan 30 2012, 07:17 AM (295 Views)
Fishy
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His sewing needles were missing.

It shouldn’t have been a big deal really. And anyone looking at Nairo would probably think that the boy wasn’t ruffled at all given his outwardly calm appearance and nonchalance about the whole thing. But inside, he was seething. He spared a seemingly calm glance at his reclining fire lizard but there was a sharp question in his mental prodding. Cliff blinked in confusion and creeled a bit; it was immediately clear that his brown was not the culprit. The room was otherwise empty.

A closer, more level-headed inspection of his belongings revealed that not only were his needles missing, but all his threads and pins and pincushions as well. Basically everything craft-related but the assorted fabrics he’d been storing in the chest at the end of his bed were infuriatingly absent from his room. Being so new to the Weyr and knowing almost none of the candidates meant that he had absolutely no idea where to even begin placing the blame. He felt helpless and uncharacteristically angry.

It was a rather distraught Nairo that wandered into the common room and flopped down onto the nearest sitting surface with his head in his hands. Maylina had just commissioned a dress from him! How was he supposed to work on that with no supplies? Who could possibly have taken his stuff? And why would anyone even bother? It wasn’t like it was valuable to anyone but him! Cliff fluttered to his shoulder but his soft pleas for attention went unheeded. Nairo was far too upset to pay him any mind.

“Dammit,” the candidate murmured. “What now?”
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Wingsecond RhiasGarnet Melacyth#ccoo3d
Weyrling T'rinnBrown EncantothperuPosted Image
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Lurhstaap
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roly-poly wher attack!
Serrynx wandered into the common area, stretching her arms above her head, her burnt-sienna skin showing a subtle bronzed tone due to lots of sun exposure, then flopped down into an open chair. She'd just been released from a chore and had some time before she was due for the next one, so she'd decided to just go sit down for a while, maybe try to get to know some of the other Candidates better. After all, if her past experience with Candidacy was any indication, she would probably be a Candidate alongside several of them for a long while yet, even though she'd already been standing for a few Turns, starting when she was 13. At 17, that was four long Turns of being left Standing, and Serrynx rather hoped that one of the eggs currently hardening on the Sands would contain her dragon, so to speak. She still had Turns left until she would have to really worry about aging out... but four Turns was a long time.

In that time, Candidates came and went. Some aged out, some Impressed, some just gave up and left. A handful died or were crippled in accidents or by illness and forced to give up their Candidacy. Another handful of females became pregnant and, again, were forced to give up their Candidacy. (Serrynx had little sympathy; it wasn't that hard not to get pregnant. You just didn't dally. It was that simple. Why other girls failed to grasp that idea, Serrynx didn't know.) In any event, despite having been a veteran of the Hatching Ground, the tall, dark-hued young woman didn't necessarily know all the other Candidates. There were so many that even if they'd also been Standing for some time, it was possible not to get to know them very well, especially if they were a boy and they didn't have any shared chores in their schedules. So it seemed wise to spend some time in the common area making connections. After all, if she Impressed and so did they, one day, they might be flying Thread together. The idea gave Serrynx a little shiver of mingled excitement and dread.

Serrynx wasn't sure if she liked the idea of riding a flaming, fighting dragon or of using a flamethrower from a queen's back better. Either one had its appealing points. In any event, Serrynx was actually looking forward to fighting Thread on one level. Yet on another she felt the same instinctive gut-level terror of the very idea shared by almost all Pernese.

About then, her meandering train of thought was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice muttering to itself. A male voice. Serrynx glanced up, spotted Nairo, and smiled amicably, an automatic social reaction, but then noticed he seemed upset and frowned a bit. "Hey, what's wrong?"
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Nairo’s face fell immediately back into its customary calm mask as someone, a girl he didn’t recognize asked him what was wrong. The angry lines around his eyes gave away his mood quite clearly though. When Nairo got mad he got furious. The candidate took a moment to compose himself before replying. First impressions were important after all, and he didn’t want to make any enemies with someone he might be working in close proximity with in the future. Cliff’s soft crooning soothed his nerves somewhat. At least enough for him to offer her a pleasant smile.

“My craft supplies are missing,” Nairo said finally. “I thought maybe my fire lizard took them but he’s innocent. I’m sure I didn’t just misplace them.”

Shards, what was the girl’s name? He’d been trying so hard to learn the names of all the other candidates over the last few weeks but there were just so bloody many of them. Twice as many candidates as eggs. And every new face got lost in the crowd just as easily as he did. He squinted at the girl.

“I’m Nairo. Don’t think I’ve seen you around before. Are you new? And did you happen to see anyone with a black hat full of sewing needles and thread?”
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Oh, the poor boy. Serrynx snorted with mingled sympathy and disdain. Things were always disappearing in the Candidate Barracks. Whether it was human or fire-lizard mischief, it was quite common for people's random smallish possessions to just 'disappear'. Sometimes they 'reappeared'... sometimes not. She couldn't understand it. She didn't see the point of taking someone else's stuff -- the pettiness felt quite beneath her dignity -- and, as for the fire-lizards, she was quite certain that her blue Stormy had never stolen anything from anyone. Because she'd taken the time to, you know, train him. It appalled her how few people bothered to train their fire-lizards beyond the barest minimum. Some didn't at all!

Realizing the other might misinterpret her reaction, Serrynx quickly smiled apologetically. "This place is full of thieves, human and fire-lizard," she explained, shaking her head. "Some of the younger Candidates, mostly boys, think it's funny to take people's stuff. And a lot of people, Candidates and otherwise, don't train their fire-lizards well enough. You might consider investing in a sound lock," she advised. That was, in fact, her own solution to the very same problem. She couldn't afford a really nice one, but the simple yet sturdy lock she'd gotten permission to add to her clothes-trunk had made a lot of difference in terms of reducing theft of her own possessions.

"No, unfortunately, I haven't. But... hold on." Frowning in concentration, Serrynx whistled a low, unvarying note, holding the tone for precisely three seconds. A darkly hued blue fire-lizard swooped into the common area through the doorway leading to the female side of the barracks, cheeping as he dove to land on his human's shoulder. Picking up the fire-lizard, she stared into his whirling eyes closely for a moment, then shook her head and sighed. "He has no idea what I'm talking about. If he'd actually seen what I'm trying to show him, he would. Sorry about that." Belatedly she remembered he'd asked another question.

"Oh, sorry. I'm Serrynx, by the way. I've been Standing for four Turns, but there are a lot of us and people come and go all the time. I ain't surprised you don't recognize me," she shrugged with a one-sided grin. "This is Storms," she added, pointing to the blue, who chirped, recognizing his own name being spoken. "I can ask him to keep an eye out for people carrying it if you want?"
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