Small Talk

<body topmargin=0 leftmargin=0 marginheight=0 marginwidth=0> <table cellpadding=0 cellspacing=0 border=0><tr> <td valign="top" colspan=2 height=22 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="040000d2egerdp.gif"> <div> </div> </td> </tr><tr> <td valign="top" width=145 BGCOLOR="#333399" TEXT="#080000" bgproperties="fixed" background="03fa2c00erkjzj.gif"> <div> <A HREF="id68.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="WeyrTrader"><U>WeyrTrader</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id74.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Aftermath"><U>Aftermath</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id69.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Late at Night"><U>Late at Night</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id116.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Close Call"><U>Close Call</U></A></div> <div> <B><IMG BORDER="0" SRC="Symb075c00b700a000ccff00.gif" HEIGHT="11" WIDTH="24" ALIGN="bottom" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0">Small Talk</B></div> <div> <A HREF="id114.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Games"><U>Games</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id118.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="More Talk"><U>More Talk</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id115.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Searched"><U>Searched</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id113.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Rules"><U>Rules</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id119.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Egg Gazing"><U>Egg Gazing</U></A></div> <div> <A HREF="id120.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Candidacy"><U>Candidacy</U></A></div> </td> <td valign="top" height=458 BGCOLOR="#FFFFFF" TEXT="#080000"> <div> <FONT SIZE="2" COLOR="#000000" FACE="Arial" ><A HREF="index.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="IBRoadRunR"><U><IMG SRC="1ad26300.gif" border=0 width="38" height="48" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></U></A>  </FONT><FONT SIZE="5" COLOR="#336600" FACE="Times New Roman" ><I>IBRoadRunR</I><I> </I></FONT><FONT SIZE="1" COLOR="#663399" FACE="Times New Roman" >  </FONT> |    <B> </B><A HREF="id28.htm" TARGET="_top" TITLE="Logs"><U><B><IMG SRC="0f40e0e0.gif" border=0 width="14" height="14" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></B></U></A><B> </B><B>Logs</B></div> <div> <IMG SRC="04107040.gif" border=0 width="263" height="4" ALIGN="BOTTOM" HSPACE="0" VSPACE="0"></div> <div> <B>Small Talk</B></div> <div> 11/19/99</div> <bR> <div> <B>NorthWest Bowl</B></div> <div> A shelter from the stronger desert winds that strike across much of the rest of the bowl, the original founders of the weyr found the lee a suitable location for the most active area of the weyr.  A gaping stone awning provides covered protection and suitable sunning space for the occupants of the dragon infirmary. Shallow steps lead into a recessed entrance to the guest weyr. A much smaller entrance leads to the living caverns.</div> <div> You see Lexus here.</div> <div> Astar and Saine are here.</div> <div> The following dragons are here: Chaddyth and Sanath</div> <div> From here you can go:</div> <div> Living Cavern             Infirmary                  Center Bowl               </div> <div> Guest Weyr                Stairs Up                  Weyr Entrance             </div> <bR> <div> "I will."  Voice is threaded with stubborn iron, stubborn chin jutting out for a moment.  "I'll prove 'em all wrong and make /Master/, as well."  Maybe she might be overshooting it, a little?  Determination hardens her jawline, cheeks warm with colour; the expression slackens, into a grin, as a hand is lifted towards Cymri.  "Good day!"</div> <bR> <div> Astar gives on of her understated nods to Cymri, murmering a quiet "Hello" to her. Hands are occupied in the sorting of bandages, wrappings and the like.  She smiles once to the girl beside her before she leans back, watching the newly-arrived form as fingers get on with the task.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri arrives in time to catch the initial expression, but not the words.  So, eyes lit with mild curiosity, she merely smiles, "G'day to you as well."  Taking both greetings as an invitation, she steps closer, head tilted now towards the bandages, "What are you doing with those?"  Softly spoken question emphasizes curiosity.</div> <bR> <div> "Sortin' -- or to be more exact, Astar is sorting, 'n I'm helping 'im, see?"  Bandage -- half rolled up -- is lifted, almost as if to recieve aproval as Saine nods her head with a grin.  "Want to help me help him?"  Oh, a chain of helping-ships.  The bandage is lowered, and fingers begin to continue rolling it up; final product is laid aside, and another bandage taken.  "Well, that, 'n talking about mastering things, 'n what to do with our lives, 'n all."  Not to mention the meaning of life, and the secrets of the universe.</div> <bR> <div> <B>Astar</B></div> <div> A longish plait of dark black falls unevenly to her waist as thick as her wrist, the uneven tips just-just above the curve of her behind. It serves to keep the abundant black strands away from a face ever so slightly oval, contrasting darkly against pale skin. Darkest brown eyes shine underneath perfectly curved eyebrows, shadows deepening them to black. They're placed an even distance away from a thinnish nose that arrows down to a smiling mouth, botton lip too full for perfection.  She walks proudly upright, body tall and somewhat gangly with teenage growth. Still, enough curves persist to give her a slightly vulpine look. Fingers are long and thin-boned, callouses showing at the base of each.</div> <div> Her tunic is a marvel of embroidery that curls and darts black-on-red o'er the whole length of it, the ties in front barely concealing a black vest underneath. Loose trous fit her lanky frame best, sheathing toned legs in shades of scarlet and heart-rich burgundy. Her boots match the redness with a darker shade of carmine, stretching to ankle.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri lifts one brow at the explanation, giving her head a subtle shake, "But just why are you doing it, Astar?  Saine?"  This said, she reaches for one bandage, automatically following the steps shown by the other two and rolling it up.  "Did you get put on trouble duty?"  A slight frown echoes the question.</div> <bR> <div> "You're welcome to join us. There's still enough ledge left over." Astar demonstrates, shifting aside on the waist-high ledge to make enough space for Cymri. "They have to be rolled, the apprentices are mostly off to some class in herbal lore or something and I happened to be handy. I don't have anything pressing to do." Fingers tuck and roll, tuck and roll. </div> <bR> <div> "I'm just helpin' -- I didna get in trouble, leastways, I'm not doing this because I got in trouble."  Lips quirk in an almost mischivious grin to prove that there /is/ a difference.  "There's lots of ledge, 'deedies, 'n if you ask me, it's a pretty well placed ledge -- we've got a good view of the bowl, don't we?"  Saine wiggles, dragging her bandage with her, to try and make more room.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri sweeps her gaze over the 'waist-high' ledge, which in fact reaches up a bit farther on the shorter WeyrTrader.  Dropping the now-rolled bandage in with the others, she gives a shrug, "Well, it's that or go to the lake by myself.  And, I suppose, rolling these is not tedious enough a task to mind, when there's company involved."  Decision made, Cymri gives a faint nod, to herself, and moves towards the ledge, eyes bright with amusement.  "Give me a hand, Saine?"</div> <bR> <div> Astar laughs softly at Saine and nods. "Perhaps I should affix a little board here. Astar's reserved seat." she murmers dryly, wryly. Beanpole legs need no hand up. "How's the trading going?" she asks curiously, casting a glance at Cymri. A mere nod greets the comment about the lake, a shoulder relegating it to a lesser position with a shrug.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri glances around Saine to Astar and smiles, "Trading is fine.  Everything at Big Bay Hold went relatively smoothly, I'm glad to say." Indeed, she looks almost smug -- must have gone quite well.  "And I managed to get some fabrics one of the residents requested, as well."</div> <bR> <div> "The lake is boring."  Hands are offered, the grin still on Saine's lips -- "I just hope I donna fall off, helpin' you up, that could be intrestin'."  Saine pauses, though, to peer at Cymri; lashes dip down in a blink.  "Ye are a trader, aren't you!  Do you think you'd be able to get me a pink belt, with a blue-spotted wherry on it?  Siobhan said that she could, only it'd cost me four marks, but I donna have four marks, y'see."</div> <bR> <div> Astar laughs softly. "A pink belt with a .." Oh, my. Astar continues with the bandage she's currently rolling, stifling a slight snicker. Ahem. "Yes, I can see how four marks is a lot." Shoulders shift before she falls back into silence, stacking the completed item in the basket.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri nods, "I am, indeed." Amusement stifled, she continues, "A belt like that?  Might be a bit difficult to come by, if you couldn't tell by the marks."  Her eyes narrow, considering, "What might you have to trade for it, if not the marks?"  Her eyes glitter, "And helping me up won't be quite enough, you know."  Teasing, she grips one of those hands and scrambles up the ledge, somehow managing to pull only enough to keep from losing her balance as she grapples with the rock.</div> <bR> <div> Sh'lor has connected.</div> <bR> <div> "That's the thing, y'see -- I'm a healer, 'n we donna have exactly a lot to trade, other than numbweed, 'n stuff like that, although I did make some hair dye in class one day which might interest you, 'though I wouldna suggest that ye use it on red hair."  Lips move, almost in a pount, as a hand lifts to tug on a lock of curls, before one shoulder lifts, Saine half shrugging.  "Are you /sure/ helping you wouldn't be enough?"  A girl can hope, can't she?</div> <bR> <div> Astar just...shakes her head. "I'll help, if I have free time." she murmers softly. "After all, one can't be a journeyman without a good belt, can one?" she teases Saine. The next bandage is rolled and tucked into the filling basket. "Why does hair dye work?" she wonders curiously, directing the query to the bowl floor. The answers to everything is there. No, really.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri laughs, shaking her head, "First things first, in trading:  never give away what's not given freely to you.  And, preferably, don't do so even then."  Smiling, she murmurs, "All the same, I'll keep my eye out for you.  Hair dye and numbweed could both come quite handy..."</div> <bR> <div> "I suppose."  Saine's legs swing, before lips quirk; a giggle escapes from the girl's lips.  "Yer right, a journeyman /must/ have a good belt, t'is true -- see, the hairdye is like a soup, 'cepting it's got bleachin' agents in it.  Don't know what that means, but that's what the healer told us."  Finger lifts, to her lips, before Saine dips her head in a slight nod.  "T'is true, methinks; never trade something as a loss?  My uncle was a trader -- I know, maybe he'll be able to give me somethin' to trade, when he's next my way."</div> <bR> <div> "Bleaching agents?" Astar perks up at those words. "I'll show you the liquid one day. Bleach, I supposed. Wouldn't want to put it on my head, though. Ouch. It stings. Too strong." Finishing her /share/ of the bandages, she pulls up one leg to rest her chin on. "I don't think I want to be a trader, for a lifetime long. I'll always sell my wares too cheaply."</div> <bR> <div> Cymri shrugs, "As it works, and I'll tell you if I find something.  So, the dyes ... surely they aren't the same as tanners use for hides, are they?"  She's certainly never seen anyone walking around with hair the color of most riders' leathers.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri chuckles at Astar, interrupting herself, "Now that's a trap.  If you can't haggle, you'll get yourself in lots of trouble."  She muses, imparting one of her own Secrets of Life: "Almost everybody's out there for himself; never forget that."</div> <bR> <div> Ylavei slowly and quietly slips in from Main Living Cavern.</div> <bR> <div> "I'm not out there for myself.  I'm out there to be a healer."  For a moment, Saine looks confused; before nodding her head towards Astar.  "Might be the same thing?  Only the liquid was pretty mild, 'tleast, that's what it seemed like to me, 'n they did tell me the herbs that went in, only I forgot, I was thinkin' about something else."  </div> <bR> <div> Ylavei steps out of the cool protection of the main living cavern into the glaring midday sun, mumbling unhappily to herself, "Spring, summer, hot... can't stand the heat..."  Sapphire eyes sweep quickly across the small crowd gathered in the bowl, pausing on Cymri.  "Cymri?  Cymri, hey!"  Resident girl makes a beeling t'wards the Trader, pink lips widening in a warm, greeting smile.</div> <bR> <div> Cymri chuckles, waving to the younger girl, and recruits, "Come help Astar and us roll these bandages?"  Don't ask her to explain just *why*, though...  That said, greeting given, Cymri slips into silence, just picking up another bandage and deftly rolling, rolling, tucking, stacking.  Next bandage...</div> <bR> <div> Astar falls silent as Ylavei beelines towards Cymri. Silently she gathers an unfolded one in her hands and begins flipping it into a neat roll. She nods silently in greeting, a smile growing on her face.</div> </td> </tr></table></body>