The World of Pern(tm) copyright (c) 1967 by Anne McCaffrey.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.
An online session, recorded by permission of the author for the benefit
of members unable to attend.
=======================================================================

April 5, 1998.  PernMUSH.  Kathall's POV.
--
Your location's current time: 14:43 on day 1, month 6, Turn 22, of the
Tenth Pass. It is a summer afternoon.
Cast:  Kathall, Kassima, Kindre, Aladis, Mehlani.

Kathall repays Telgar acquaintances' favor of visiting the Hold with
a visit to their Weyr.  Talk of Leilanth's WL flight, Boll, and old
times before I had to go.
=======================================================================
Telgar Weyr's Living Cavern(#750RJM$)
This huge cavern is sufficently roomy to hold a large portion of the
Weyr's population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of
activity here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for
mealtimes: currently for the mid-day meal. Drudges are always present,
either cleaning under Pierron's watchful eye, or helping fetch and
carry. A myriad of glowbaskets and many ever-lit hearths make the
cavern warm and inviting despite its size. The scents of cooking
meats, baking breads and pastries, and the pungent aroma of spices
hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder that those
seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it. Dark
summer blooms of vivid hue decorate the tables.
A short tunnel jaunts northward out to the bowl and the merry sounds
of cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the
southeast end of the cavern near the easterly passage to the rest of
the lower caverns. Within the lower caverns is an entrance to the
infirmary weyr to care for injured dragons and riders.
Contents:
Pierron
--

Kassima walks in from the bowl.

Pierron humphs thoughtfully as the wingleader of Thunderbolt arrives.

Kathall turns at the cook's grunt, and her weary face
lightens. "Kassima! Over here. I brought you something."

"Gahhhh," Kassi can be heard to groan under her breath as she walks
in, looking rather... well... hungover. The polite might term it
'under the weather.' "Why do I do that when we have drills the next
morning? Why? Why? Because I'm a masochist, that's why. Oh! Kathall!
Duties t'Benden, her Lord, and her Lady... you brought me something?"
Somewhat bloodshot green eyes do brighten a bit, and she smiles,
walking over towards where the Baker ostensibly sits.

Kathall ostensibly stands, letting her riding jacket fall to the
bench, with a few muffled squeaks from her dress's pockets. "Hush,"
she mutters at them. "--Yes, I did. I visited Igen Weyr recently, and
Alwyn -- A'wyn -- suggested I bring you a tuber loaf." She points to
the towel-wrapped bundle on the table. "I did. And I wanted to thank
you again for visiting during my dinner."

Kassima blinks, eyeing the wrapped bundle now with the trepidation of
one who thinks it just may contain live tunnelsnakes. "He suggested
that? Gah. Thankee, Kathall, but if'n the truth's t'be known, I'm nay
precisely... fond... of tubers." She's valiantly trying to keep the
loathing she actually feels for the things out of her voice, but
likely doesn't succeed entirely. "I'm certain Richenda would love it,
though. Would you be terribly insulted if'n I passed it along to her?
And did you realize that your dress is squeaking?" The greenrider
seats herself at the table, a wry smile curving her lips upward. "Nay
thanks needed for *that*, m'friend. Believe you me, I enjoyed it--and
that bread was positively divine."

Kathall frowns. "I did ask him if you'd throw the loaf back at me, but
he didn't say ... Well, my apologies," and she reseats herself,
squeaking again. "Oh. Fire-lizards. A friend gave me a pair of eggs
for a Hold cook, but they cracked before I got them back, and you can
guess the rest." Brown and green heads peep out of pockets, tiny and
purple-eyed. "I'm trying to keep them with me, to establish the bond
for training. They /will/ be trained properly, not like my eldest
one."

Kassima flicks her fingers dismissively. "Nay need to apologize for
that, Faranth knows; I'll just whap him upside the head with something
next time I see him. Problem solved." Grinning rather impishly, she
leans forward to get a look at these 'lizards. As ever, there's a
'lizard on each of her shoulders, and others clinging to various parts
of her or perched on the table nearby. "Cute," she opines. "Hatchlings
tend t'be. Found names for 'em, yet?"

Kathall captures the wiggly green for a display of nervous minty
color. "Bann," she identifies and goes after the brown, who lazes
across her fingers and blinks at Kasisma. "And Jeek. Just short names;
I think they might answer better to them. You have a fair -- any
advice?"

--
A quick, compact efficiency defines this tiny green fire-lizard,
sculpting both fledgling frame and deft movements. From blunt muzzle
and tail's fork, her neck and tail smooth short, muscular arches into
her body's wide-ribbed cone; long and thin, her wings spread through
their sails bourbon's browny undertones across the clean elegance of
her minty gloss. The darker hue shadows her withers and haunches,
ridges the length of her spine, and tips each dexterous paw with
delicately keen talons to match the nascent, nervous canniness
spinning her gem-faceted eyes.
At less than a month old, Bann is only as long as a woman's finger,
with a wingspan more than half again as wide and Benden Hold's red and
violet banding her taut neck.
--
Tawny and warm, tinged with fey pink, is the sherry-warmed hue of this
elegant brown fire-lizard. Whether from his fussy fop's motions or
from that mellow hue, he seems fuzzed, soft, and harmless: down the
smoothly lined angles of his head to the sinuous spade of his tail,
all wrapped 'round in the pure shimmer of his wings' sparkling cloak,
no single facet of his appearance hints at his true nature except the
wicked, rapacious gleam of stark black talons.
At less than a month old, Jeek is only as long as a woman's spread
hand, with a wingspan more than half again as wide and Benden Hold's
red and violet banding his graceful neck.
--

"Short names," Kassi repeats thoughtfully. "Huh. I think the shortest
names I ever had were Alix, Kinte, and Janeh. I don't know whether or
nay 'twould help t'have more like that; some of the longer-named ones
wound up being those who stayed with me... but, anyway. Advice?" She
leans back against the backrest, mulling this over through her
still-pounding brain. "Mmmm. I'd recommend you train 'em to hunt
tunnelsnakes, if'n possible; they can get some of their own food that
way. The more you let 'em do on their own, the more likely they seem
t'be of eventually going wild--that's a point you might want to watch
for. I'd suggest you train the green in message-carrying unless you
want a lot of unexpected stops t'chase after rising females when
you're trying t'send things; on the other hand, greens tend t'be
flighty, so you may have nay choice."

Kathall broods on the pair, which slither back into pockets, although
the sherry-hued brown keeps his head flopping free, blinking still at
the big bright world. The green's disappeared into a pocket-shielded
lump. "So I've heard and seen. My bronze is getting towards
reliability with messages, but he still wanders. I suppose it's
unavoidable. They're only silly little beasts."

"They have their moments, though." Kassi runs a fingertip over the
eyeridges of the gold on her left shoulder, and scratches the chin of
a rather handsome blue on the table with her other hand. "Kayvist here
is excellent with messages. He rather *likes* zipping about t'find
people, and t'see how fast he can get back. Rhiannon's all right at
it, and Zabreneva's passable, but most of the others have nay talent
for it at all."

Kathall nods, eyes going to each fire-lizard in turn. "I'll see what I
can do. Word came around the other day that your senior queen rose?"

Kassima nods, pausing to loosen the choke-hold Quixote's tail seems to
have taken around her neck. "Another note: if'n you start scritching
one, expect the rest t'get affectionate too... aye, Leilanth rose
yestereve. 'Tis why 'twas so deeply into the wine. Prometh caught her
again; Kiat'll likely wind up with another black eye, but at least
things are stable."

Kathall nods again with the advice, then her own eyes widen. "Black
eye? I don't understand."

Kassima is more than willing to explain. "Kiat's nay Jehrina's
weyrmate; that's P'tran. When Prometh first caught Leilanth, she took
offense to the fact that 'twas nay Laerth who'd won--and took it
rather physically. Thus, Kiat's black eye." Whimsically, she adds,
"'Tis one of the newer reasons on m'list of reasons why nay t'be
having a weyrmate: 'tis less difficult that way on your fists."

Kindre walks in from the bowl.

Kathall, seated with the green rider, frowns her way through the
explanation. "'Kiat' -- oh, K'tyn. Weyrleader K'tyn? My stars,
Kassima, what an ... interesting life you Weyrfolk lead. Igen wasn't
like this."

Kindre strides into the cavern with a wide grin upon her
face. Brushing past Pierron in her familiar pattern, she heads
straight for the hearth. Turning around with the items she
procured...a redfruit and some wine...she espies the familiar
duo. "Afternoon Kassi, Kathall, and Telgar's duties," she offers
cheerfully before taking a seat.

Kathall murmurs a greeting back to the weyrwoman, and a pair of
fire-lizard heads, brown and green, flop out of her dress's pockets to
peek at the new noisemaker. Their mistress stuffs the hatchlings back
in. "Stay. We were discussing Leilanth's flight, Kindre. Well, its
aftermath, anyway."

Kassima inclines her head once in affirmation. "That'd be the man,
aye. Things tend never t'be dull around here--I suspect things were
rather wild after the flight; fortuitously, m'mind is blocking out
most of what happened after I got m'self horribly sloshed right
now. 'Twill like as nay come back eventually." Kin's arrival wins
another smile from the hungover-looking greenrider, and she waves Kin
over to the table. "Kin! G'deve and such... how fares?"

"Ah," Kindre replies to Kathall accompanied by a few nods of her
head. "I was safely off at Boll with Herath for the whole...event,"
she remarks almost wryly but does smile. "I've yet to even see my
weyrmate, to be true," she adds as and afterthought and bites into the
redfruit. "How fares all with Benden? Well, I hope?"

"Quiet," Kathall reports, matching her delivery to the word. "Nothing
new, nothing unusual. Nothing like you, of course, although it seems
peaceful enough now."

Kassima nods to Kin. "'Twas here, m'self... and let me tell you, I won
enough marks t'finance m'half of this month's Turnday gifts, I
think. So rest assured that I'm more than happy on that account. I
don't suppose you've any clue what happened after the flight? 'Tis
still rather hazy for me... methinks I recall shouting at 'Lex, and
coming in here t'get drunk s'more, but 'tis all. At that, 'tis more
than I recalled this morning." Quirking her brows at Kathall, she
wonders, "Quiet? Dull? Bright Faranth, Kathall. It sounds like you
need t'be dragged off somewhere exciting by a pair of dragonriders
sometime, just t'keep your life from being stagnant."

Kathall protests, "I have work. Duties. And I did visit Igen last
sevenday, as I told you."

Kindre bobs her head a vew times and smiles. Finishing her bite of
fruit and washing it down with a small swallow of white wine, she then
says, "I'm glad to hear it. Quiet can be good." Smirking a bit at her
hungover friend, she quips, "Especially the day after a flight,"
before shaking her head. "No, I stayed at Boll for most of the
evening...slept in the Lounge, to be honest. I think..." She pauses,
auburn brows knitting slightly, "I saw your cousin there? With a group
of younger riders."

"Speaking of that place," Kindre pipes up while turning her gaze upon
Kathall, "have you been to the Lava Lounge? And, if so, recently?" A
grin slowly curls her lips as she idles to take another bite of fruit.

"We've work and duties, too... quite a number of 'em. Don't even ask
me how drills went today," Kassima remarks as a rueful
afterthought. "Doesn't mean we have t'live *quiet* lives, though. You
don't have to, either--shells, what a horrid fate!" She mock-shudders,
laughing quietly. "Slept in the Lounge? Marcus must've loved
that. Aye, Kes was planning on going t'Boll during the
duration. Methinks he said his Wingmates would take him...." She
pauses, a crease appearing between her eyebrows. "I *think* I remember
him being dragged through the Bowl by 'em afterwards. Singing, of all
things. And you really wouldn't believe what V'dan told me this
morning; I'm nay sure that *I* do."

You say "Lava Lounge?" She shifts on the bench, causing a few more
hatchling meeps, and shakes her head. "I've never heard of it,
Kindre."

Kindre bobs her head a few times after the Wingleader speaks and snaps
her fingers. "Yes! He was there with...crackdust...S'lot and Sh'rock?
By Hera's shells I can't recall their names. Anyway," she remarks
quickly as the thoughts of the eve before slowing creep back into
conscious memory, "Kes was awfully drunk by the time they left. Not
that I was not, but..." She grins. "You haven't?" The latter is
wondered of Kathall before her grin becomes nearly wicked. "You'll
have to come with us one of these times! It's a charming tavern hidden
away in Boll's jungles. It has walls with all sorts of things carved
into them.

Kathall volunteers, "I've been to the Rusted Hulk, if it's anything
like that."

"It is," Kindre agrees while nodding her head. "Only warmer with more
interesting drinks. Nothing as fine as Hugh's brandy, but fun all the
same."

"S'lah and Sh'roun?" Kassima guesses. "He's always hanging about with
those two, and they'd be just the sort t'help him get his brains
washed out. I hope they were sober when they dragged him back, or
K'ira will likely have their hides." Sliding a grin at Kin, she
remarks, "Really, 'tis nay a thing t'be missed. The Lounge is the best
place on all of Pern t'get a drink--very different from the Hulk,
insofar as one bar can be different from another." With a sigh, she
rubs at her temples with her forefingers. "After yestereve's binge,
though, I'm nay certain I want t'think about the Lounge and its drinks
for a time."

Kathall blinks at the pair of them. "I don't drink much," is all she
can think to say. "But if you want, yes, I'll go with you. The Hold is
... quiet." One word for it.

Kindre can't help but laugh at bit as Kassima's plight with her
hangover. "Agreed. I wasn't terribly off my wagon last eve, but felt
it would be better just to stay in Boll," she remarks almost
flippantly and shrugs. Smiling, she nods to Kathall. "It's really an
interesting place, even if you don't drink. The history they've got on
those walls is just incredible."

Kassima chuckles ruefully at Kin. "Rub it in, eh?" she suggests with a
half-smile. "Seriously, I'd a couple of glasses of that old hangover
remedy; that helped. All that's left is the blasted headache and a bit
of memory fog. It could easily be worse." Turning back to Kathall, she
affirms with some enthusiasm, "You wouldn't believe Marcus's whimry
sandwiches! And the walls... they *are* something else. I've seen some
of the strangest things scribbled on 'em; you'd nay believe it if'n I
told you."

Kathall says loyally, "I'd believe you, Kassima. You've no reason to
lie to me."

"I recall one carving," Kindre offers and smiles, "saying something to
the effect of Carow and Merissa falling in love there."

You say "Who?"

Kassima does grin somewhat at that. "Well, thankee. I've had enough
people refusing t'believe me for one lifetime, methinks," she
laughs. "You know nay of Carow and Marissa? Carow was Lord Warder and
then Lord of Bitra for a number of Turns... and Marissa was his wife,
while she lived."

Kindre blinks a bit after taking another bite of her fruit. Washing it
down, again, with her wine, she says, "Carow, formerly Lord Carow of
Bitra..." Her words cut off as Kassima explains who the mentioned
parties were.

Kathall slowly shakes her head. "Sorry. I don't hear much, and much of
what I do here ... slides right out of my ear. What did the carving
say?"

Kassima glances towards Kin for the answer to that one. "I can't
rightly say I recall that one. What *did* it say, Kin?"

Aladis walks in from the bowl.
Aladis pulls off her riding helmet as she enters the living
caverns. She tosses off a salute to both Kassima and Kindre.

--
        A round face framed by a shoulder length mop of curly brown
hair is the home for a pair of grey eyes that often sparkle with good
humor. Average of height, the active lifestyle of a dragonrider has
assured that her figure will remain trim. Her quick smile gives a hint
of the 26 turn old's easygoing nature.
        Riding leathers, made of thick, well-softened dun colowhite
leather, bear a patch that denotes her to be a wingrider of Dawnslight
Wing. The jacket is short, with convenient pockets and sturdy stays,
as well as the mark of Sr. Apprentice Weaver Deresh upon one of the
pockets. The pants are snugly fit, but comfortable, tucked into a pair
of matching boots. Green gloves, dyed to match the hide of her dragon,
are either worn or tucked into the back pocket of her pants. Likewise,
a riding helmet of the same green hangs from her belt when not
worn. She wears a black and white Telgar Weyr knot, with a strand of
green run through it.
--

Kathall straightens up in her seat with the pair of riders, looks
curiously at the new-come one.

"I believe," Kindre ventures, "that they were quite famed for their
strong love for each other. I was still a weyrling when Marissa passed
on..." Thinking a moment of something, she moves on. "Something to the
effect that they both had fallen in love right there in the Lava
Lounge. I found it, well, lovely, that they had noted that so many
turns ago." The familiar sound of the caverns door followed by
bootheels on the stone floor causes Kindre to turn. Smiling to Aladis,
she greets with, "Heyla Aladis," before nodding to the salute.

Aladis makes her way over to pour out some klah. She sweetens it and
adds some cream, then wanders over to take a seat near to Kindre.

Mehlani walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Kathall shifts again. "That /is/ something," she agrees to
Kindre. "I'll have to see it for myself, I suppose."

Mehlani pads silently into the cavern, accompanied at the moment by
only her little blue Brodi, who clings anxiously to her shoulder as
she traverses the room. The girl is apparently heading for the
kitchens, and her features are creased in deep, absentminded thought.

--
This teenaged girl stands at 5'4" in height, and is of a delicate but
sweetly curved build. Her skin is pale, speaking of unfamiliarity with
Pern's sunnier climes; her auburn hair long, held in check by a long
braid in the back, yet with a few rogue tendrils escaping to spill
across her brow and dangle loosely before her ears. Seldom does this
lass speak; when she does, her voic is soft and gravely toned. But far
more often than not, she simply fixes her liquid blue gaze on an
object or person of interest, and keeps it there with an intense
attention that suggests the weight of her world rides upon her
drinking in every detail of her surroundings through her guileless
eyes.
She is currently clad in a simply cut dark golden brown blouse with
blue laces at her collar and sleeves, along with a pair of dark brown
breeches laced, also in blue, around her calves and ankles. Over the
shirt she is wearing a soft black leather vest of a stylish cut,
setting off the pale cloth beneath it. On her feet she sports a pair
of sturdy, scuffed boots; on her head perches a battered brown
wherhide hat, just a touch too large for her. Through the braid of her
hair is entwined a long ribbon of Harper blue, glimmering out amongst
her auburn tresses.
--

Aladis chuckles quietly, expression vague for a moment. The greenrider
calls out, "Asabeth sends her greetings, Mehlani."

Kassima winces at being saluted, though she returns the gesture
sharply enough. "G'deve, Aladis. D'you *have* t'be doing that?
Afternoon t'you, too, Mehlani." Smiling at the message relayed by Kin,
she nods. "I recall her passing... and *'tis* sweet. Just the sort of
thing that lovey-dovey pairs are given to, Faranth help 'em." She
pauses for a moment, brow creased. "Funny. I thought I almost
remembered something... but nay."

Aladis grins at Kassima, "I only do it because it makes you wince."
Aladis says "Well. That and years of training."

Kindre waves to Mehlani as the young woman enters the cavern. "I hope
you were lucky enough to escape Kes last eve. I saw him at Boll with
his friends and he looked...well...on a mission, so-to-speak," she
says to her and smiles. Nodding to Kathall in agreement, she remarks,
"It truly is. We should take you sometime soon to see it all. Again,
even if you don't drink it is still a wonderful place to visit."
Chuckling at Aladis' words, she grins. "How is Asabeth? Doing well, I
hope?"

Mehlani blinks, then looks up and smiles timidly, pausing briefly in
her passage. "Thank you," she tells Aladis earnestly, "and my duties
to you and Asabeth." She bobs her head at Kassima too, and then slips
off into the kitchens... or starts to. She stops, and peers at Kindre
out from under the brim of her hat. "Wh... what?"

Kathall says simply, "I'd like that. And I need to return to the Hold,
before Master Mirala gets after me again." She bobs her head mutely to
Aladis then Mehlani.

Kassima rolls her still-bloodshot eyes up towards the
ceiling. "Sadistic greenrider!" she accuses, but she sounds
amused. "Just don't call me ma'am, and I suppose I can live with
it... only under duress, though. So soon, Kathall? Well, thankee then
for the tuber loaf. I'll see that it goes t'someone who can appreciate
it."

Kindre's head tilts slightly as Mehlani stops and addresses her. It is
not the amount of words, really...she's heard the young woman say five
or six once or twice...but her expression. "I took Herath to Boll last
eve when it seemed eminant that Leilanth was to rise. Kes and a few of
his friends were in the Lounge, the latter getting the former quite
drunk by the time he left." Kathall's exit turns her head, however,
and she smiles. "Clear skies, Kathall, and please give our best to
Lord Rodin and Headwoman Lara if you would?"

Kathall tells the green rider, "I don't like tubers, either, and I
think I'll tell A'wyn about this if you don't first." She settles her
jacket around her -- with a few squeaks from her dress's pockets --
and nods back at the weyrwoman, smiling a bit. "If I see them, I
surely will. Good afternoon, to you all."

Mehlani flicks a look at Kathall, remembering her, and bobs her head
at the woman in distracted greeting; it's clear most of her attention
is on Kindre, though. "... oh," she mumbles, round-eyed.

[Kathall leaves (patting Lysseth, outside, on her way).  Log ends.]