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Small boy, big world...; (Open, he will welcome any help)
Topic Started: Mar 4 2012, 09:33 AM (282 Views)
Nemix
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This, this right here was a Weyr. Not a Hold, or a Hall, both of which would have been somewhat familiar, but an actual Weyr. A small pair of feet stamped along the hall, making a surprising amount of noise for such tiny feet. Then again, his boots were two sizes too big and stuffed with extra socks. Large eyes took in the walls and floors as they left the light of the bowl far behind. The large and familiar swaying shape of Rodin strode ahead, the man's wispy white hair falling well past his broad shoulders.
"Right, Irgin. This is you." The man's gruff voice boomed over his shoulder as he stopped outside a door. The door in question looked the same as the last four doors they'd passed. Irgin peered up at the man, leaning back a little to take him in completely. "Come on, get over here and put your stuff away." Rodin said, planting a heavy hand on the lads shoulder and dragging him round.

The young lad flailed slightly under the weight, then trundled his way round the large man until he faced the door. Rodin swung the door inwards and the boy gasped. The room was the same size as home! Well, where he used to sleep, but with his parents too! He shot a questioning look to Rodin.
"Well? In you go." He said after an awkward moment. "The room wont come to you you know."

The boy peered inside again, took a deep breath, and hitched up his trousers. The belt, on it's last hole, was still struggling to keep the garment round his waist. He hefted his pack, one that almost dwarfed him in size, and strode through the door with a determined look on his face. It was just as he'd though. One bed. He had, his own, room! Dumping the bag behind him, he waddled carefully around the room, inspecting the bed, the small table, and the chest. A cough brought his attention back to the doorway.
"Right, well. This is where I leave you. Told your ma' I'd drop you off and I have so. This, is your new home. When you're settled, hit the kitchens. They're back down the hall, to the right. Make yourself useful alright?" The boy nodded firmly, giving him a large, beaming smile. "Right." Rodin commented a little awkwardly. "Well....bye." He said, giving the boy a wave before he retreated, shaking his head slightly, and shut the door.

Irgin, was alone.

The boy took another look round the room and sighed deeply, then he eyed his bag.

Despite its size, it didn't take long to unpack. Half of it was clothing, clothing he was at least two sizes too small for, but that was how he liked it. The ride over had been long, and dusty, so he'd changed. He was now in a long-sleeved grey shirt, grey pants, and the same huge brown boots. He dragged his comb through his hair and then placed it carefully on the table next to his small wooden runner model and the letter his parents had said he could read on his first night. He nodded.

Twirling about, he gazed around the room once more and decided he was done. So, it was the kitchens then? Opening the door, Irgin peered out carefully. He looked left, then right, leaning as far round the door as he could without actually moving out of the relative quiet of his new room. The hall was filled with the muted sound of footsteps, chatter and a rhythmic thumping that Irgin couldn't place. After a few moments, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt so he could use his hands properly, hitched up his belt again, and headed out the door.

Wandering down the hall he'd entered through, he set off in search of the kitchens. The only problem, Irgin mused, was that he didn't know who he was looking for or what the kitchens even looked like! Still, he had his instructions, turn right. So, when he could turn, he did.....except, this hallway was twice as long as the last and there where tunnels everywhere! How, oh how, was he going to find his way from here? His jaw hung open, the sheer size of the Weyr was, overwhelming. His hold had been tiny, so tiny that even Irgin had felt big. How was he going to find his way in here?!

He tapped his chin thoughtfully, as he'd often seen his father do, before reaching a decision. He'd just have to follow his nose. Taking a deep breath, he hitched up his trousers again and set off, sniffing the air as he walked and trying, to locate the kitchens.
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N'ril strolled through the lower caverns, attempting to cool off after a harsh workout. He had found long ago that the caverns were perfect for cool-downs since they were expansive, usually more or less deserted when most of the weyr was busy. Not to mention the supreme benefits of being cool and one hundred percent shady.

The brownrider was surprised to fine a small boy standing in his path as he turned around the corner. He paused and looked at the kid for a minute before his tired mind caught up with him. He smiled a little and bent to the boy's level.

"Hello. I'm N'ril. What's your name?"
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Inactive Characters:
D'rius N'ril J'ean Korinna Luella Wa'en Callani
Thenoth Nazacth Naelayth Korinsk Fraedoth Ephrelth Veribeth
Kendal L'ey M'us Tomlin Gale E'ric T'muz
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Nemix
(::) (::) (::) ...mmm cookies.
Irgin's progress wasn't very fast, mostly because he was stopping at every branch off of the hallway and taking huge lungfuls of air. He hadn't found the kitchens, but he had found, several storerooms, a small room full of leather in varying sizes and cuts, complete with a man with a huge nose who kept asking Irgin if he was here for the riding leathers; whatever those were. Not to mention a room that smelled and sounded distinctly of babies, complete with a red faced rather harassed looking woman who kept asking the children if anyone had seen her left shoe.

Subsequently, he was not really much closer to the kitchens when a figure suddenly loomed in his path. Irgin stopped, brushing his hair back from his eyes as the starred at him. Irgin stared back, blinking slowly as the man seemed to be trying to remember how to talk. Irgin was debating helping him with this, when he finally said something.

The man's face swung closer and Irgin's eyes went wide, the young lad throwing his arms out to the sides to keep his balance. He was smiling, sort of and Irgin briefly wondered if perhaps he had gas. Then, he spoke. A man with a shortened name? Then.....he was a rider?! Irgin's eye would have gone wider, if physically possible. As it was he merely stared boggle eyed for a moment longer before he remembered his parents insistence that he do well. He cleared his throat and pulled himself up nice and tall before sweeping into a dramatic bow. "I'm Irgin Mr N'ril sir." He said brightly, bouncing back up onto his feet properly. "I um, well I, just arrived you see. I'm allowed to work in the kitchens." He said, beaming at this grand opportunity. "Are all riders as tall as you are? You're like a...well..a giant!"

The art of subtlety and tact were rather lost on Irgin, particularly when he was excited. Still, he didn't seem phased. He leaned as far to the right as he could, peering round N'ril. "Mr Rider N'ril, have you seen the kitchens? I seem to have lost them." He said, straightening up and staring wide-eyed at the Dragonrider again. His first day, and he'd already met a rider! He'd have to tell his parents.....as soon as he could figure out how to send a letter back home.
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N'ril's smile widened and colored with amusement when the boy bowed to him. He listened as the boy introduced himself and then fired off a few questions. He was certainly a lively little lad. And enthusiastic too - an admirable quality in a young worker. N'ril was endeared at once.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Irgin. Welcome to the Weyr. If you're here to work in the kitchens, then we'd better get you to work. All that Threadfighting gives us big appetites around here." The brownrider winked and straightened up. "Come on, I'll show you where to go."

He strolled down the hall with Irgin, keeping himself to a pace that wouldn't give his new companion any trouble. "As for being tall...well, I suppose I am. But not all riders are. We come in all shapes and sizes - just like young boys. The Weyrleader doesn't even come up to my shoulder." N'ril smiled mischievously and added, "Don't tell him I mentioned it though. He doesn't like people pointing out he's short."
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Inactive Characters:
D'rius N'ril J'ean Korinna Luella Wa'en Callani
Thenoth Nazacth Naelayth Korinsk Fraedoth Ephrelth Veribeth
Kendal L'ey M'us Tomlin Gale E'ric T'muz
Tiranth Tartoreth Jadith Tomsk Morinmoth Hynth Ysinth


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Nemix
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Irgin bobbed again at the rider's welcome, grinning as the man offered to show him the kitchens. If his parents could see him now they'd....well, they might be a tad bit worried that he was wandering off with a complete stranger but....BUT, and this was important, he was a Dragonrider. They were held in surprisingly high regard by his parents and so, Irgin did likewise. As they walked, Irgin glanced sideways now and then, walking as tall as he possibly could. He tried to imagine how much a rider ate, was it as much as a dragon?....No, dragons were much bigger. They'd had a visitor once at the hold, a Smith. He'd ate twice as much as their Lord! In one sitting! Maybe he mused, it would be like that.

"Is Thread scary? For Dragonriders I mean......You all must be so brave..." He trailed off, thinking on this point as he hitched up his trousers again. He scrambled, jogging to catch up once his trousers were back in place and then fell in beside N'ril. He glanced at the man's legs and skipped a stride, matching the Dragonrider's and then pulling himself up again.

N'ril seemed nice, he chatted away to Irgin, just like he was a regular person. Like another rider even. He listened with a serious expression to the fact that riders, like holders, came in all shapes and sizes. He'd always imagined riders to be tall, noble, to hear N'ril call the Weyrleader short made Irgin clap his hands over his mouth to keep from gasping and giggling at the same time. At N'ril's insistence he not tell anyone, Irgin grew serious again and nodded, brows knitting together. "Your secret is safe with me." He said, falling quiet and watching the people pass by on all sorts of errands. After a moment, he peered back up at N'ril and whispered loudly. "Is he as short as me? How does he get on his dragon?"

Irgin was beginning to wonder how he'd find his way back, but maybe he'd find someone nice enough to show him his room at the end of work. He hitched up his trousers again, tugging the belt as far up his tummy as it would go, and stuffed some more shirt in it to help it stay. "Are most the people here Dragonriders?" He asked thoughtfully after a while, watching as more people passed by. They didn't seem to be as tall, or as muscular. Many wore ordinary clothes and Irgin was suspecting that Weyrs were not filled wall to wall with riders and only a special few 'normal people' helping out as he'd first thought.
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N'ril stole a few glances at his pint-size companion, greatly amuse by how often Irgin had to adjust his clothes. It was pretty cute. His gut twitched a bit as the kid asked whether Thread was scary. A few things N'ril had been trying very hard not to think about flashed through his mind.

He collected his wits and managed to keep his tone light as he answered the child. "Thread is scary, but it would be scarier if we didn't fly to flame it. And we have our dragons with us. As long as we're together, my dragon and I can face anything."

N'ril chuckled as Irgin asked about T'ech's height. "Oh, he's a bit taller than you. And he may be a little bit short, but he has no trouble mounting his dragon. He climbs up just like the rest of us. He's a very skilled dragonrider."

N'ril sighed contentedly as they walked. Maybe it was partly due to the recent workout, but he hadn't felt quite this relaxed in a long time. The stress that had been plaguing him the last few months seemed to seep off his shoulders with each step he took. He smiled broadly as yet another question came his way. He just loved the natural curiosity and unabashed-ness of children.

"There are a lot of dragonriders, but I wouldn't say its most. There are a loooot of people here that don't have dragons. Some of them are Crafters, like the Healers and the Miners, and the men who take care of our herdbeasts, and some of them are regular civilians like you - keeping the Weyr running smoothly. And then of course there's the Wher Handlers, and the Holders. We gt all types in the Weyr."

As he finished speaking, the tell tale bangs and clanks of the kitchen could be heard ringing out down the hall ahead of them. A mixed aroma of sweet and savory smells wafted down to them. N'ril grinned and stretched, letting out a happy groan. "Ahhh, something smells wonderful! You're a lucky lad, Irgin. You'll be learning from some very talented cooks."
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Inactive Characters:
D'rius N'ril J'ean Korinna Luella Wa'en Callani
Thenoth Nazacth Naelayth Korinsk Fraedoth Ephrelth Veribeth
Kendal L'ey M'us Tomlin Gale E'ric T'muz
Tiranth Tartoreth Jadith Tomsk Morinmoth Hynth Ysinth


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Nemix
(::) (::) (::) ...mmm cookies.
Irgin thought deeply on the Dragonrider's words. "I suppose, without you guys....we'd all be finding things mighty tricky." He said thoughtfully, nodding slightly. He was curious though now, it was the first time he'd gotten to speak with a rider. Usually he wasn't permitted to do more than glance out of the doorways tot he courtyard back home. Even then he rarely actually got to see one. "Dragon's must be amazing. What's it like being a rider? What's your dragon's name and what colour are they?"

Irgin pursed his lips, trying to imagine what it was like climbing alllllll the way up onto a dragon. That must be pretty scary! They were so tall! "You alls must be very strong."

Irgin realised, he hadn't been paying attention to where they were going at all. Not since the Dragonrider commented about the Weyrleader. There would be no hope for him later, he would have to find someone in the kitchens to take him back for sure. As N'ril talked, Irgin peered up at him, jaw agape as he realised just how many people it took to run a Weyr. His eyes opened wide as he spread out his hands and looked at them both. "We didn't even have....not even nearly half of all those people at home! How do you know who everyone is?" He asked, suddenly worried. What if he had to remember everyone's names?! Would he be allowed to write them down?

Irgin realised, a little too late that N'ril had stopped. Irgin, walked into a pair of legs and a hip. "Sorry." Came the muffled apology as Irgin stepped back and ruffled his hair back into place. The man he'd walked into gave him a look of disdain before sweeping off, leaving Irgin to blink in puzzlement after him. He tottled back to N'ril, peering owlishly around the room. "I want to learn everything." He said cheerfully, then frowned. "Do people in Weyr's apologise differently? He, didn't seem to like my apology." Irgin asked, slightly worried he'd managed to do something very wrong without trying.
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N'ril smiled and leaned against the wall. A sort of far-away look came over his face as the boy asked about his dragon. Nazacth was worse than a Bitran, but N'ril still adored him. That adoration was evident in his voice as he answered, "Being a dragonrider is an amazing thing. There's really nothing else like it in the world. Except maybe being a wher handler. I'm not sure how to even begin describing it. My dragon is a Brown and his name is Nazacth. I usually call him Naz." He chuckled and added, "When I'm not calling him names. We kid each other a lot."

The boy's next question drew another chuckle from the man, "I don't know everyone in the Weyr. It's a bit too big for that. I've lived here all my life though, so I've gotten to know a good chunk of people just from interacting with them on a daily basis. Most of the people that I know well are fellow riders, though. You just need to get to know the people that play the biggest role in your life."

N'ril didn't happen to know the man that Irgin had bumped into, but he had looked somewhat sour. "Don't worry about him. We don't have any special way of apologizing. He was probably in a hurry. Or maybe he's been having a bad day. Just be polite and try not to take things like that personally." He patted Irgin on the back and gave him a reassuring smile.

He straightened and cocked his head with a curious expression on his face. "Did you say you have experience in Kitchens? What's your function I know a thing or two about how they're run and I'm wondering where you fit in."
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Inactive Characters:
D'rius N'ril J'ean Korinna Luella Wa'en Callani
Thenoth Nazacth Naelayth Korinsk Fraedoth Ephrelth Veribeth
Kendal L'ey M'us Tomlin Gale E'ric T'muz
Tiranth Tartoreth Jadith Tomsk Morinmoth Hynth Ysinth


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Nemix
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"Naz...Nazas....Nazacth." Irgin managed after a moment, and then grinned. "He has a fun name." So N'ril was a brownrider? They were right in the middle of all the dragons. From the way N'ril talked, they seemed to be wonderful creatures. Irgin wondered whether there was a special test, to prove you were brave enough to fly on one, or smart enough to bond to one.

All of that though, was pushed aside as he sagged in relief with a huge sigh. "That is so much better than having to know everyone. If I had to know everyone, I think my head would explode. Then there'd be no more Irgin." He explained, in case the last part wasn't quiet clear. "So I will get to know, the kitchen workers. I know you too, so I wont forget about you either." He watched as people bustled to and fro, there were so many people down here. "I'm still going to have to know a lot of people." He realised.

As strange as Weyrs were, he was glad to know he wouldn't need to learn whole new ways of talking to people. As N'ril patted him on the back, he caught his belt before his trousers could slip down and yanked them up again. "I can be polite." He said, brimming with confidence. His parents often told him what a smart young man he was, how polite he was. The last part though, that would be tricky. He'd just have to figure out how.

As the rider questioned his skills, Irgin puffed himself up. "Baking." He said proudly, peering at the kitchens and then peering up at N'ril. "I can mix stuff well, but I can't reach all of the big pots yet. So, they said I had to wait for soup and sauces. Back home, I was taught how to make pies, flatbreads and all sorts instead." He pulled back his shoulders and peered around. "Like, see there." He pointed to a man furiously pounding dough. "That'll be flatbread, over there they have...ohh, fruit tarts, they should be good." He grinned then peered up at N'ril. "Can you cook then?"
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"Ohhh, a baker!" N'ril exclaimed with pleasure. "Baked goods are a big favorite! You'll be popular in no time!" He listened as the boy identified a few things just by the dough. He thought Irgin must be rather smart, and a good student to have learned so much in such a short lifespan. "Wow, you're quite impressive. Sounds like you'll be able to take care of things on your own. That should free up quite a few hands."

The lad's question drew a hearty chuckle from the bronzerider. "No, I can't cook really. But sometimes if I have the extra time, I'll stand and watch like we are now. And I've spoken with some of the kitchen workers before. So I have a general sense of how the kitchen is run, and how many different jobs there are. I have a feeling they're going to be very happy to have a pastry master like you around."

The brownrider's eyes were a little teasing as he made that last remark, but they cleared as he looked back toward the kitchen. He sighed a little. "I think I'll miss the days when I was idle enough to to stand around watching others. I've less and less free time these days what with Thread falling. It's amazing how much we take things for granted." He drifted into thought, musing about the bittersweetness of seeing the end of their nutritional hardships and trading it for the horror of Thread.
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Inactive Characters:
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Thenoth Nazacth Naelayth Korinsk Fraedoth Ephrelth Veribeth
Kendal L'ey M'us Tomlin Gale E'ric T'muz
Tiranth Tartoreth Jadith Tomsk Morinmoth Hynth Ysinth


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