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Beer Me Up, Scotty


Date:  November 26, 2003
Place:  Telgar Weyr Living Cavern
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  Now this was an event!  Telgar's sitting on the border
of autumn and winter, and its leaders have decided to honor the 
brewers of the sweep area by hosting a very beer-intensive festival.
Naturally, Kassi just *had* to attend. ;)  Delicious food and 
excellent company abounded, but not even one person got so drunk
they passed out in the Living Cavern or threw up all over somebody!
I'm telling you, keggers just aren't what they used to be.  Whether 
that's a good or bad thing I'll leave up to you. ;)

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The Log:

Public announcement: K'ran announces "Telgar's autumn festival is warming
up right now. Come join us for a falltime party in our living cavern,
location #399. Everybody's welcome. :)"

You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle wishes she were cool enough to be humphed at by Pierron.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Note to self: never let your eye slide over the
second 'h' and then the 'at' in that phrase again."


Autumn Festival Decorations:
	The Living Cavern has been given a touch of extra color for this 
occasion: leaves of blood red, golden yellow, and burnished orange have been 
gathered from the Lemosian forests and woven into long garlands, which now 
lie draped across the serving tables, over the stone hearth, and around the
centerpieces that adorn each table. A large and healthy pumpkin forms the
center for these, with four deep red fall apples for escort and slender
mini-sheafs of wheat and barley spaced between them to symbolize the
harvest... and, in the latter case, beer. Small cinnamon sticks and
sprinklings of cloves and nutmeg have been added to the array to give the
air all around a subtle, spicy scent that might put one in mind of such
autumn favorites as hot mulled cider and fresh-baked pumpkin pie. 
	The lighting of the room has also undergone a change, with the regular
glowbaskets replaced by large, loose-woven affairs with an interior lining
of thin, fine linen, dyed in orange-gold. The effect is to soften and warm
the light coming from within, lending it a richer, sunset cast. And should
visual warmth not be enough for you in this chill Telgar season, fear not:
a bright blaze has been laid in the hearth, and the aromatic, slightly
smoky wood sweetens the air even as it heats it. More logs of the same have
been laid in wait at the hearthside, so that the cheery fire, much like
Telgar's hospitality, is certain to last for quite some time.


K'ran exaggerates a sigh at Isawen's demurral -- perhaps he'd been hoping
for a partner in crime -- but gets to his feet straightaway when Yselle
asks about the potables. "Well, there's... all sorts of things," he says,
and includes Isawen in this exposition, too. "From all over our beholden
area. I'd stay away from the stuff that comes from near Woodcraft -- likely
as not to taste like sawdust;" this earns him an amused snort from the
fellow he'd been speaking with earlier. "All the rest of it, though, mmm.
I'd start off with something on the lighter side. This way you'll be good
and soused before you get to the darker ales and the stouts, which can be a
little intimidating."

Telgar Weyr> K'ran claws out his eyes. Oh God.

Simone walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima has a strange impulse now to start singing Tom
Lehrer's 'Oedipus Rex.'

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "That brings all sorts of potatoey thoughts to
mind, thanks Kassi"

Telgar Weyr> Simone waves

Isawen picks a seat and slids into it with a nod at Yselle. "Well," she
begins in a tone that implies she is quite used to giving this explanation
by now, "I had to come collect my brother, but got stuck here for the
winter." She raises an eyebrow at K'ran's words. "Well, you certainly
seem..experienced on the topic." The beer table gets another look over, "I
wouldn't mind trying a couple... Likely to be stuff we don't get at Keroon."

Yselle notes "Nursing," quite firmly. "Unless you give me your solemn word
you'll keep an eye on me. Last time I got drunk without someone trustworthy
around, I had Levarn to show for it. I have complete faith in your ability
to find whatever's the best there..." she grins at Isawen and says, by way
of agreement "Always let K'ran pick your beer for you. So, did you find
your brother? Took me a sevenday to find Tel when I got here, I swear he
was hiding from me."

Kassima doesn't try to make an entrance, instead slipping in amidst a small
knot of Festival-goers... but somehow Pierron spots her anyway, and she
undoes what dignity her gown might have lent her to flip him her standard
rude variant on the salute with her free hand. She only has one of those,
with the other curled protectively around a bundle of swaddling colored to
match her dress and possessed of a suspicious tendency to wriggle. "You're
only fortunate," she informs the cook, "that with this being a fancy event
and all, I've a wee bit too much decorum t'tell you what you can go do with
one of these pumpkins. 'Twill save it for later. G'deve," she greets the
Cavern at large rather more warmly, her smile having the grace to be a
touch sheepish as she moves towards her usual table with a muted rustle of
velvet skirts.


Kassima:
	Kassima is a woman gifted magnanimously by genetics: one would likely
guess her to be younger than her actual age thanks to high cheekbones and a
brow lines dare not touch, and she's been dealt a good hand in her slender
5'10" build. Her fine-boned features are framed by a black river left free
on this occasion, spilling down her back and threatening, in the case of
the wayward forelock, to obscure canted eyes the color of emeralds in
shadow. A shrewd glint lightens these even when mirth does not, and the
well-shaped brows above lend eloquence through their mobility.
	Kassi seems to be in reasonably good health and condition: she is 
strong and fit, though as pale in complexion as Telgar's snows, and while 
she hasn't entirely recovered yet from the birth of her son there's a 
radiance to her frequent grins that makes up for the shadows beneath her 
eyes. She's chosen to wear a long, elegant gown of rusty russet, cut low at 
the neck and loose in the waist to make the most of her post-pregnancy 
figure; the soft cotton velvet of the skirt has been slashed in front to let 
the black sisal underskirt peek through. Low sable slippers complete the 
ensemble, while the darkly flashing garnets that dangle from her ears and 
throat provide a touch of extra ornament.
	She has, for the moment, abandoned her riding jacket with its insignia 
of rank, but those who have spent much time at Telgar might know her to be
green Lysseth's rider and Thunderbolt's Wingleader.


Telgar Weyr> Kassima belatedly waffles to Simone. :) And you're quite
welcome, Ys. ;)

"She's flattering me," K'ran warns Isawen, for Yselle's confidence -- but
he nonetheless drifts over to the brewers' table to claim three drinks: two
of the barleywine, and a third of the more evil-looking Bastard Ale. He
wrestles these back to the table -- and flashes a smile toward
Thunderbolt's Wingleader as he goes -- and sets the former pair down in
front of Yselle and Isawen. "Now," he warns, good-naturedly, "Beer's one
thing, but you're both on your own with dinner, hm? Much, of course, as I'd
love to spend the evening waiting on you both hand and foot."

Isawen laughs, and points out a boy of about 13 Turns, completely occupied
at the food table. "Oh, Rahlan -was- hiding from me," she says to Yselle.
More to herself, she mutters, "With good reason." When the drink is set in
front of her, she looks it over and chuckles. "Thank you. Oh, of course...
Though I recommend you all get your food before my brother eats it all. I
know he'll try!"

Simone slips in quietly, and busies herself clucking over the food tables,
making sure things are arranged properly, and platters kept filled, and all
that.

Yselle smiles charmingly at K'ran and teases "Isn't it the weyrleader's
duty to pick a greenrider to wait on all through one of these events? I'm
sure I read that in a hide somewhere. It also said something about making
sure she didn't have to get up for dawn sweeps if he plied her with
alcohol. And oh... lots of other duties he had, I forget them all, but they
had something to do with being her abject slave." She takes the drink and
raises it to him in salute. After that's taken care of, she has leisure to
glance over at Isawen's brother, and she says, "that's boys for you. Well
Tel wasn't hiding from /me/, probably because I didn't tell him I was
coming. That's always the best plan. Don't give them warning." She waves
Kassima's way, saying, "I'd get up, Kassi, but I'll fall over. Come and try
some of this stuff."

"Yeah," K'ran agrees, on a wry laugh. "We boys." Rather than take his seat
again, though, he threads his way over to the meal tables themselves, and
seems to hover just behind Simone, the better to eyeball the spread over
her shoulder. "It won't bite, will it?" he wonders of her.

[Editor's Note:  Some descs follow, of the Festival Table that
Simone provided and of various items that could be found on 
it. :)  I confess that I didn't look at everything, but I 
figured I'd leave what I did see in the log for posterity.]


---

Festival Table:
A long, heavy wooden table has been set up here for the Autumn Festival,
and covered with a cloth of white with a black runner. The fabrics are
sturdy and simple, in keeping with the fare set upon them. 
 
 '+detail Festival Table' will show you the list of available dishes 
 '+detail Festival Table's ' will display the description for
the dish.


Sausages:
Hot off the grill, two large platters of thick, juicy sausages sit on the
table, a basket of long split buns between them. The sausages have
char-marks from the grill and most of them have split their skins, oozing
juices, steam, and a delicious aroma into the air. Some of the sausages are
mild, and some are hotter, rumored to have Istan Fiery Death peppers in the
fillings. For the convenience of the guests, the platters are clearly
marked. A pot of brown mustard is also nearby, and one can almost taste the
mingling of flavors on the air.


Cheese Sticks:
Finger-shaped slices of mozzerella cheese have been breaded in a mixture of
fine bread crumbs and flour, basil and oregano and then deep-fried until
the coating was crisp and the cheese melty. The sticks are arranged on a
platter in a circle around a colorful bowl of smooth marinara sauce.


Steaks:
These juicy-looking steaks were marinated overnight in a mixture of yellow
citron juice, fresh garlic, sea salt, cracked black pepper, and a touch of
sweetner. Then they were grilled to tender perfection, crosshatched char
marks marking both sides. Bits of the garlic, salt, and pepper still cling
to the steaks.


Bread:
The familiar sight and smell of cornbread greets your senses, the plump
golden squares steaming up from a shallow basket, crusts cracked in places.
The bread goes well alone with a slathering of butter, with sweet syrup
poured over it, or crumbled into a stew. The cornbread shares the other
side of it's basket with crusty, fluffy biscuits, their tops brushed with
melted butter.


Savory Pies:
Several large round thin pies sit here on the table, topped with tomato
sauce, mozzerella and parmesean cheese, and several different items. One
has crumbled sausage and green bell pepper, and another thin slices of
porcine and chunks of pineapple. Yet another is covered in mushrooms,
minced whiteroots, and red bell peppers.

---


Kassima slants Yselle a dryly amused look en route to the Festival
table--her stop at Thunderbolt's was only to drop her cloak off, draping it
across the back of her chair, it appears--and observes, "D'you know, nay
only have I never read of that, but I've never seen it either? I'm most
miffed if'n 'tis true, though; I'd think, in all these Turns, m'name
would've come up in the abject slave lottery at least *once*. I should have
words with F'hlan or P'tran or 'Lex about this." K'ran gets a cheerful
headbob of greeting; Isawen too, for all that she doesn't recognize the
young woman; and then she adjusts her hold on Kaisan, making sure the baby
is secure before she addresses the issue of the waiting food. "Ooh,
*sausages*... and are those steaks? And fried *cheese*? I should just give
up on keeping any sort of diet tonight right now, shouldn't I?"

Rosmyn walks in from the bowl.

Looking towards Rahlan and then food table, Isawen spies Simone and sends
the baker apprentice a wave. She nods in agreement at Yselle, "No sense,
most of them. Though Rahlan did nearly loose me." She returns Kassima's nod
politely before shifting her attention to the food again. "Leave some for
me!" she calls to her brother as she scoots to her feet to grab some food
for herself.

Yselle giggles and tells Isawen "It was worth a try anyway. You know," she
lowers her voice so that the now-distant K'ran can't catch her saying "I
wonder if I could find a harper who'd draw up a hide that said that? It'd
be quite entertaining, don't you think?" Kassima /might/ just hear it
though, and the wingleader gets a grin. "Can I hold him?" she asks,
probably like she does every other single time she sees them. "I have to
sit down anyway."

Banain walks in from the bowl.

An old Auntie makes clucking noises at Pierron, "Poor dear, works so hard..."

Simone chuckles at K'ran, grinning. "If you stay away from the very spicy
things, sir, it'll be all right, I think. Try the tuber wedges, though."


Yselle:
	Scrawny, and rather sallow-looking, this girl will at best be described 
as having 'a good personality'. Nature has been particularly cruel to her.
There's that skin of hers, dotted with a a multitude of red spots -- the
reminants of a particularly nasty case of acne, as evidenced by the heavy
scarring from healed lesions. Her eyebrows, dark and thick, seem at least
to have been the subject of /some/ training -- on the odd occasion, tiny
red dots underneath them attest to her efforts at grooming, as does her
upper lip. A rather large mole sits just in front of her left ear, a bulgy
thing that could never be described as a beauty mark. The one real beauty
is her eyes, liquid brown and large, framed with thick lashes, readily
crinkling into a smile. In seeming defiance of all this ugliness, her hair
has been cut very stylishly: cropped at about chin-level, it hangs in
straight, blunt-ended lines, which always seem to fall neatly back into
place. Her body is bony, almost boyish in shape, and her joints knobbly.
She appears to be about 21 turns of age.
	Yselle wears a long dress in shimmering blue sisal, shot with black. 
The bodice is panneled, cut to hug her figure, the v-shape of the waistline
giving an impression of added height. The neckline is cut low, perhaps a
little too much so for the Telgar weather, showing just a hint of
dcolletage. Like the three-quarter length sleeves, it is edged in silver
piping. The skirt is very full and has an added layer of semi-transparent
blue fabric; it is so long it brushes the ground, all but hiding her
blue-covered slippers. A metal torc encircles her throat.
	She wears a silver ring on the middle finger of her left hand 
(+detail), and a rose quartz pendant in the shape of a conjoined Y and s. 
Her knot indicates her rank as wingrider in the Telgar Weyr colours of 
black and white, entwined with a kelly green thread for her lifemate.


Rosmyn strides through the entrance and looks around, waiting for Banain to
catch up with her. She unfastens her flight jacket as she does.

Pwert walks in from the bowl.

Banain ambles along behind Rosi, his eyes survey the area as he looks
behind him, for others that might be a bit slow.

"Mmm." K'ran can say little more than that once he's caught a better view
of the viands that sprawl out before him. And then he's hurrying to fill a
plate: definitely a scoop of those tuber wedges Simone recommends, but
ample helpings of the sausage, too, along with one of the steaks, a hunk of
bread, and -- for health's sake, one assumes -- a redfruit. "It looks
delicious, Simone. You've outdone yourselves." It's when he turns, hands
full, that he catches sight of the arriving Igenites, and over the din of
the crowd he calls over, "Telgar's duties to Igen!"

"So long as you promise nay t'let him make a mess of your lovely dress. I
might nay have the money t'replace it," Kassi teases, agreeably moving to
offer, very carefully, her son to Yselle. "He's being restless, just so
you're warned. Wants t'get out of the blankets and filch a few cheese
wedges for himself. I'll have t'eat one or two extra in proxy for him." Oh,
*such* a chore. Doesn't she look woebegone? Much of her focus is on her
baby, and making sure he's not jostled too much by the passing, but she
does catch sight of the arriving Igenites and calls an amiable, "Duties
t'Igen and her queens! Welcome to the Icy Wastes, and all that."

Isawen grins at Yselle, "I thought it was an excellent try." She nods at
the greenrider's dress again. "I'm heading to the food table. Did you want
me to grab you anything so you don't have to get up again?" Her head tilts
in the direction of her brother. "I'll make Rahlan help me carry it back."

Pwert follows the other group of Igenites after a moment, chatting
amiacably with the rider who conveyed him. Then, as the rider departs, he
glances around the cavern, "Sweet shells, they did a good job decorating
the place." He murmurs. Spotting Kassima and K'ran, he heads in their
direction, "Igen's duties to Telgar and her queens." he says with a large
smile.

Rosmyn calls out as soon as they are spotted, wincing slightly as she was
slow on the uptake. "Igen's duties to Telgar and your queens, sir." Leaning
over, she whispers to Banain. "Well I wasn't rude, just not attentive."
When she spots Pwert, she laughs. "I thought I saw you scrambling up on
Mardanth. You didn't bring Elaia?"

Kichevio walks in from the bowl.

Pierron gives a respectful nod to the Weyrsecond.

Banain nods to the greetings. "Igen's duties to Telgar and her queens," The
young man says, before hearing the name. Twitch. "Wait, is she here?" He
asks, eyes quickly checking the area. When they come up vacant of Elaia he
lets out a sigh. "Phew."

"/Would/ you?" Yselle looks so grateful to Isawen. "Normally I wouldn't
ask, but, well, if you'd seen me come in... Only if it's no trouble
though." She positively beams. "Your brother won't mind, will he?" As for
Kassima's warning, she's already reaching out for the baby. "Oh he won't
cause any trouble at all, Kassi. I love babies." How surprising." she grins
over at the Igenites and calls "Hey, welcome." Everyone else has done the
duty thing after all.

Lysseth> Saulith joins her fellow greens (hurrah the Festival! Green is
festive!), managing to not stir up _too_ much of the loose snow in the Bowl.

Yselle croons to Saulith. She's looking extra specially smug right at the
moment.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle dies

Lysseth> Dianneth croons to Saulith. She's looking extra specially smug
right at the moment.

Telgar Weyr> Kichevio giggles and hugs Yselle. Only to be expected at a
party with beer. ;)

Lysseth> Ivalth looks very cold, more than anything but she curls up and
makes the best of it.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "And now for my next trick..."

Kaisan accepts this transfer of possession with a minimum of fuss, though
he does squirm quite a bit once relocated on Yselle's arms. Maybe *this*
one will let him go free! "Behave," Kassima chides the newborn softly,
brushing her fingers across his crown of wispy black hair before
reluctantly drawing back. "I'm already suspecting that he's *born*
t'trouble, but you should both survive." Arms now free, she starts to turn
towards that tempting, waiting food, but pauses at Pwert's approach. "Oh,
heyla," she greets, offering a quick grin. "Duties again t'Igen and hers,
and long time, nay seeing! I'd normally ask what brought you up to the
frigid northlands, only with so much beer out tonight methinks I can figure
everyone's motive." She closes one eye in a quick wink, then adds, "But
if'n 'twill excuse for a moment, I'm ruddy nigh starving and I hear a
spiced sausage or two... or three... or five calling m'name."

Kichevio comes in later than she'd planned, notably without her child.
Though that's probably for the best, the current focus of the party not
being suitable for children--not till they're older, at least. "Telgar's
duty to all and sundry, welcome, salutations, and please tell me you saved
me something good?" She cranes her neck to see what's displayed on all the
tables. "You brought Raisin along, Kassi? I suppose he's not too young to
learn about his glorious alcoholic Telgari heritage."

Brees walks in from the bowl.

Simone is still hovering like a broody queen over the tables. The baker
seems a little hesitant to leave them, although they're well-staffed, this
is her first gather as an apprentice, after all. Hardly still for a moment,
she's fluttering over the dishes, the table coverings, and anything else
she can possibly fuss over. She smiles nervously in greeting to folk she
knows as they come up to serve themselves from the myriad of dishes laid
out for the party.

Rosmyn nudges Banain. "Be brave, man. She can't do you any damage here.
Besides, it's a party and she's got extra duties so she can't be here." She
overhears Kassima and smiles. "Well, word does get out fast and spicy
sausage did you say? Grease and spice, what more could a girl want?"

Pwert blushes at Rosmyn, "No, I couldn't find her, and M'anak couldn't wait
he longer." he says with a sight, "You really don't mind, do you Banain? I
mean, us studying together? Those baker's notes and recipes are down right
fascinating." He smiles at Kassima, "Telgar's beer is always worth the
bother. And it's good to see you, Kassima." His ears quirk, "They're
serving spiced sausage?" He winks at Rosmyn and Banain, then heads towards
the tables as well.

Isawen nods at Yselle. "It won't be any trouble. Won't hurt Rahlan to do
something useful for a change," she says with a smirk. Off to the food
tables, where she stops to inhale and smile happily. "Mmmm." She loads up a
plate, then hands it to a younger boy with a stern look and a comment about
not eating any of it on the way over. As she finishes filling her own
plate, she steer herself and her brother back to her seat. Under her
careful watch, Rahlan politely offers the plate to Yselle, ready to shoot
off as soon as his task is down. Isawen shrugs and reseats herself in front
of her drink, pulling her food close.

Brees strides in still clasping her riding jacket around her against the
cold. She spots Rosmyn and heads straight over for her sister in time to
overhear the last. "Grease and spice? How about crunchy vegetables?" She
says teasingly then offers a "Ista's greeting to Telgar and Igen and
whoever else needs it."

K'ran's navigated his way back through the growing crowd to his own table,
predictably close to the beer servers, and where Yselle still sits. "Is
that Pwert I see over there?" he asks, of nobody in particular; then,
catching sight of Kichevio and the child in her arms, he flashes *her* a
smile while he sets his plate down. And, now, "Duties to Ista!" he's
calling back, for all that he has no idea who these latest greetings are
coming from.

The look Kassi fires Kichevio has amusement but some genuine dirt in it.
"His name," she says, "is Kaisan. *Ky*-*sahn*. Nay bloody Raisin." With wry
humor, she adds, "And the alcoholic part will come more from his Bendenite
heritage, but either way... I figure he deserves a break from the weyr as
much as I do. But 'Maeva's agreed t'look after him if'n he should get too
fussy." There's a pause while she decides whether or not to give into
impulse before she answers Rosmyn with a too-straight face: "Well, there's
always meat. I'm a meat sort of girl m'self. But that depends on
preference, I should imagine." She grins, then, and adds, "Would you like
some? I could easily snag you a few while I'm snagging *me* a few--oh,
duties t'Ista and her queens too! And heyla, Brees. Don't you just know it,
Pwert, and 'tis *killing* me t'be unable t'drink when all that beer is
here. Are you another who'd like sausage?"

Yselle grins at the baby, and slips her arm around behind his head to
support it. She positively beams, looking right at home, and now much more
comfortable than before with a baby in her arms. "He's so beautiful," she
most likely tells Kassima /this/ every time she sees him too. She looks
down at the baby and notes "Aren't you the little squirmer? Your Daddy
would be so proud of you, yes he would." She grins at Rahlan and says
"Thank you, it's very kind of you." Looking past him to Isawen, she grins
and adds another "Thanks." She even grins at K'ran again when he returns.
"Who's Pwert?" she asks, looking over to see."

Banain watches Pwert head off, and then blinks. "Huh? Why would I care?" He
calls out to the boys retreating back, feeling the nudge he laughs. "You're
right, I need to toughen up. I can fend myself from.. 13 something turn old
girl." He makes the act of looking braver and then approaches the serving
table himself, following along behind Pwert. "Comin Rosi?" He asks.

Rosmyn sticks out her tongue at the Istan Weyrlingmaster then belatedly
offers duties back. "It's a festive time, Brees, who needs anything
healthy? Shells and shards. Although what they find festive in snow is
beyond me." Grinning wickedly at Kassima, she manages to keep a straight
face herself. "Well, I prefer meat as well." She introduces herself before
she's called away. "Rosmyn here, and that's .. well, that was Banain, not
sure where he went off to."

Elaia walks in from the bowl.

Pwert smiles at Kassima, "Yes, please, though, I'd not mind help carrying,
if helpy uo need. How come you can't drink tonight?" he inquires politely.
He blinks at Banain, "Valaris said he thought you two were attached and
what not." he nods solomnly at Rosmyn, "Meat is good, sweetrolls are better."

Isawen nods at Yselle with a grin. "You're welcome." She rolls her eyes at
Rahlan. The boy, having run off after only a nod in response, is right back
at the food table. Between bites of her food, Isawen takes an experimental
sip from her drink. "Hmm..."

"Pwert." And K'ran points the Igenite out of the crowd, where he's speaking
with Kassima. "He stood here, once, a few Turns ago. Headed back to Igen
afterwards. Nice fellow." The explanation's punctuated by him devouring a
sausage. "Oh, jays," he mumbles. "That's wonderful. I'll have to run twice
as much tomorrow, but it's wonderful."

Banain reaching for a cup, starts to cough, then laugh, then snort. "No..
we were never attached.. and never.. ever.. will be." He says with a firm
nod. "She's all yours boy." Then tapping on. "Valaris doesn't know much of
my personal life." He says finally reaching for the cup. "Hum, what looks
good here?"

Elaia wanders in from... of all places, the inner caverns. She's looking
grumpy and mutters something very rude about parents. "Mouldy old yukky
Telgar," she sniffs. "Cold, wet and disgusting. As /usual/. Hey they're
having a party!" she seems to take /this/ as a personal insult.

Kichevio, engaged in politely elbowing her way through the crowd to the
tables, can still smile sweetly Kassima's way. "Gotcha. His name is not
Small Wrinkly Fruit, his name is Kaisan." She drawls out the second
syllable in a manner worthy of the snootiest Lord Holder's wife. Getting a
good look at him as she passes K'ran and Yselle, she does smile and add "He
_is_ beautiful. Any sign if he's going to have your eyes or Is's?" She
deftly dodges Rahlan as she fills a plate with at least one of everything,
and a majority of the existing cheese sticks. "Duties, Brees, and consider
yourself hugged by Kiralee!"

Rosmyn smirks at Banain, then winks at Pwert. "She's all yours." As the
girl in question comes in from the inner caverns, her eyebrows shoot
/right/ up and she shivers delicately. She is quick to lose herself in the
throng around the food.

Brees turns to wave over at Kassima with a smile. "Good evening, Kassima.
Is that your baby?" She asks standing up on her tiptoes to get a peek then
turns to just smile at Rosmyn. "And here I thought a party meant you should
eat good stuff." She jokes. Elaia gets a quick look and a shake of her head
before she turns to grin over at Kichevio. "I will then. It's been awhile
since I've had the chance to see her."

Yselle grins. "Wouldn't want to ruin your figure," she tells K'ran, looking
him up and down meaningfully. "I like your kilt, by the way. I like the
blue outfit better though," she grins, and then occupies herself holding
the baby a little further away from herself so that Brees and Kich can get
a better look. "How's the beer?" she asks Isawen, since she has yet to try
hers. Maybe she really meant it about nursing.

Kassima smiles warmly at Ys and the child she holds. "He is," she agrees
with no shame at all. "His Da's wee, dark clone, I still think, save about
the eyes." Kaisan only squirms some more, those eyes--still misty
blue--trying to focus on Yselle without much success. Attention turning
back to the Igenites, she repeats. "Rosmyn. Rosmyn. I know that name... oh!
Jasmyn's eldest, was it, from the last--nay, nay the last, that was the one
Hicerth sired wasn't it? But the Igen clutch a'fore that. I'm Kassima, or
Kassi as one prefers." She indicates herself with a gesture. "Pleasure
t'meet you both. Alas, Pwert, 'tis part of the nursing mother gig. Yancy
keeps insisting alcohol would be a bad idea. But what Yancy doesn't know
won't hurt him, so mayhaps just *one* glass...." As she speaks, she sets to
the task of filling plates with sausage for each person who said they
wanted some, passing them over and finally attending to her own. A steak
finds its way to her plate too, along with cheese wedges, vegetables, and
basically small samples of everything available. "It all looks terrific,"
she says earnestly to the guardian Baker. "Exactly so, Kich, *exactly* so.
I think his eyes are shaped more like mine--don't you? But as for color,
nay clue yet... and 'tis indeed, Brees. Kaisan's what we've named him, and
he's positively gorgeous."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Okay, on the down side, that pose was longer
than I wanted. On the up side, five people addressed in one might be a new
record for me. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "You do well."

Rosmyn smiles. "Yes, I'm flattered you know so much about a little old
greenrider. Well, not old but not that important. Jasmyn was my mother and
S'more is my Da." She peeks over at the babe in question but doesn't ooh
and awww, her mind on food more than infants.

K'ran nibbles a bit further, and Yselle's compliment wins her a bright
smile. "It was a gift," he explains, "from Kichevio and Tarlo. A few Turns
old, and I don't wear it much, but I figured, what with the weather and
all, why no--" Abruptly, he coughs a bit, as if choking, and reaches for
his drink. "Jays," he croaks. "That's not *fair*."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "No, wait, six. Six is definitely a record. Hee!
Thanks, Ys. :)"

Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. "Nobody /ever/ invites me to parties," Elaia grumbles.
"I hate my parents. And I hate you too," she says, walking past Banain. So
there.

Isawen holds off on her food to take another sip, then nods at Yselle.
"It's not bad at all..." she says to Yselle. "I don't know much about beer,
of course, but I've certainly tasted worse." She raises an eyebrow at
K'ran's coughing. "Something wrong with the food?" she asks, looking to her
own plate.

Kichevio has taken a seat close to K'ran and Ys, partially to further study
Kaisan's genetic ingeritance, and partially to eavesdrop. She peers at
Yselle, eyebrows lifting in fascination. "Blue outfit? Have I seen it? What
does it look like? Better than the kilt?" Wide eyes change to artful
pleading. "Do tell. I'm a busy person, don't get out much, stuck in the
weyr caring for a baby, and hearing about K'ran's less well-known wardrobe
would really make my day."

Brees takes a few steps closer to get a better look down at the baby. "Oh,
he is a beautiful baby, and a good name. How old is he now?" She asks up to
Kassima then turns to look K'ran up and down with a soft laugh. "It looks
good, sir. Aren't your legs cold though?"

Pwert smiles at Kassima, "Perhaps a small glass would bring no harm?" he
suggests innocently, "After all, it's the babbe one must prevent from being
hurt, not," he pauses, repeating the name carefully, "Yancy." He rolls his
eyes over to Banain, blinking slowly, then to Elaia, "Oh! Elaia, hello. I'm
very sorry. I did go looking for you - but I couldn't find you before we
left. Who'd you hitch a ride with?" He watches as Rosmyn retreats, and then
asks Elaia slowly, "How come you hate Banain?"

Banain humpfs, as Elaia goes back. "I'm not fond of you either, you terror
from the ground." With a snort he gets himself a bowl of stew, and
restrains himself from further comment when Pwert asks her a question. He
merely finds himself a seat at the nearest table, must have manners when at
a someone elses Weyr.

The table's fare definitely wins out when it comes to Rosi's attention and
she's quick to load up on all things undigestable and unhealthy. But every
few seconds, she glances up, keeping one wary eye on the baker apprentice
and Pwert. It's every Igenite for themselves and she heads in the opposite
direction with her plate of food, stopping by Kichevio as she does. "Hello
there."

"Banain," Elaia says haughtily "Is the most horrid boy in the world. Hey,
is that /beer/?" she sneaks a look at the adults around and wheedles "Get
me some Pwert? You're looking so handsome tonight." To Banain she notes
"You are too. You're just jealous I don't like you like you like me."

"I had marks riding on your Impression," Kassi confides to Rosmyn by way of
explanation. "And I never forget a source of profit. I knew your mother,
though nay that closely. Ooh! Pie!" The pie and a mug of milk later, she's
finally done with food, and she carts the heavy plates back to... well, no,
not her chair; it's too far from her son and conversation, but here's
another chair conveniently empty nearby. "This isn't the white rhinestone
pants again, is it?" she asks after Kich's question. "I don't have t'hide
under a table, do I? Believe me, Pwert, I've *nay* interest in guarding
Yancy from harm. Kai's another matter. But a *small* glass really would
wash this down admirably. Just under a month," she informs Brees with a
broad, proud smile. "And already so active! Which can be a bit troublesome,
mind. But thank you; I like his name, too. Oh, hey, a kilt! Nice fashion
choice, K'ran. Wait, wait, what was that about something being wrong with
the food?"

"Oh really?" Yselle says, interested. "What's it made of?" She pauses and
wincing says "Whatever that was, is Dianneth's fault isn't it?" She takes a
deep breath, and changes the subject quickly. "K'ran's gather outfit. I was
always, uhm, partial to it." She turns a little pink around the ears and
changes the subject /again/. "How are you feeling now, Kich?"

Simone seems to think the tables are under control, or were, until she
heard that little slip of a girl with a baker apprentice knot mention the
beer. Nope. That's not going to happen.

The tall Igenite nods vaguely. "Seems a lot of people knew my mother." With
a wry chuckle, Rosi cuts into a sausage with her fork, even as she stands.
"And I'm glad I made you a profit, there were a few at Igen who lost quite
a bit, I surprised a lot of people when I impressed, no one more so, than
myself."

K'ran seems to have recovered from his bout of coughing -- ale soothes all
wounds, and all that -- though his voice is still a bit raspy. "I think
you've seen it, Kich. Deep blue jacket and all; I've worn it to Gathers
before, but I'm more than happy to come up and model it around your weyr
some time, 'specially if it'll help soothe Kiki to sleep. But, um." He
pushes his plate away, just a bit, enough that he won't jostle it when he
gets to his feet and then stands up on his chair. "Could I have everybody's
attention for a short but brief announcement?" he calls; and in a quieter
aside to his tablemates, "Have to do this. Otherwise the holdfolk'll skin
me alive."

Banain shakes his head. He will not fight with apprentice tonight, no
matter how annoying she gets. Must..have..manners. "I'll not..shoot out of
the side of my mouth..." He says softly, then remembers he should get
something to drink. Noticing Simone he gets up, "So in your professional
opinion, what's good around here?" The young man asks, eyeing the table.

Pwert raises a brow softly, "While I don't doubt you've your reasons, I've
always found Banain to be an excellent companion and friend." He blushes,
"Really, you think so? Me, handsome? Beer? Sure, you're old enough to have
a sip, right, Master Denra's not gonna flail me or anything?" He sighs as
Banain takes off. "One moment, I'll got get some now." As he lines up for
the brew, he looks up at K'ran.

Simone blinks at Banain. "Well, in my professional opinion, everything."
she grins. "Do you like spicy food?"

Elaia positively beams at Pwert, adding "Although if you see a nanny or a
handyman, deny it's for me. They're stupid anyway. Lot they know." She
pauses, and to sweeten the deal adds "You're /extra/ handsome today
though." As for Banain, she says "You look stupid talking out of the side
of your mouth anyway."

Brees takes a look over at Rosmyn's plate and shakes her head. "I was going
to steal food off there, but I should have known better." She jokes to her
sister then turns her attention up to K'ran.

"Rosi? I _thought_ I heard a familiar voice." Kichevio abandons her food to
give Rosmyn a quick, warm hug. "Kiralee keeps me updated on how wonderfully
you and--Ivalth?--are doing, but it's good to see you! Has your class
graduated yet?" She sits back down to guard her cheese sticks, since
Rahlan's ambling by looking far too innocent. "I'm feeling fine, Ys--a
little tired, but that's about as usual. Being able to fly and /between/
again helps..." Seeing no white rhinestone pants as K'ran calls for
attention, she just shrugs at Kassima and perks her ears towards the
Weyrleader.

Kassima admits to Rosmyn, "I didn't know much about you, t'gauge m'chances;
I make it a habit t'bet on the children of m'friends is the thing. Works
out as often as nay. D'you need a place t'sit? There are more stray chairs
over here, I think--mmm. These sausages are lovely." That's after sampling,
and, yes, swallowing a bite of the food in question. "We need t'have feasts
more often. Only 'tis really as well we don't; I'd weigh half the world. Is
Kai behaving himself, Ys?" she asks, attention never far from her
offspring, but then she quiets at K'ran's request and returns Kichevio's
shrug with a helpless one of her own.

Banain hears Elaia, just before responding to Simone. It's hard to flirt
with a girl when there's annoying person yapping at you. But one can try
anyhow. "Spicy food is my favorite," He says with a grin, "Well, do you
have a spicy drink?"

Yselle leans back in her chair, still holding the baby against her. She can
see K'ran a little better from that vantage. One hand reaches to smooth the
hair against the tiny head as she listens. She just grins at Kichevio and
nods. "I'm glad to hear it," she hisses. Since she's being quiet and
attentive and so forth, her response to Kassima is to lean back a little so
that she can see her offspring better and judge for herself.

"So," K'ran begins, awkward at first -- he's apparently more for bellowing
orders in drills than public speaking -- "we're blessed, tonight, to all be
together here, someplace warm in the middle of the sharding snow, and with
friends from beyond Telgar, too. And the Bakers have put together a
magnificent dinner that you should all of you try before it disappears." He
pauses there, briefly, to gesture back behind him toward the beer tables.
"We've also invited holdfolk from our beholden areas to bring craft brews
that they work on Turn-round, and show them off for our benefit. By the end
of tonight we'd like to pick a favorite, so that somebody can go home with
bragging rights 'til next Turn. So, please -- give it all a try, and a
while yet I'll call for a vote on which is the best of the lot. Other than
that? I hope everybody enjoys themselves."

"You /like/ her don't you," Elaia, ever appropriate, ever dimplomatic,
hisses at Banain. It's not that she's ignoring K'ran's request to be quiet,
well, okay, she is, but everyone else is shutting up, so she lowers her
voice a little so as not to be so obvious. "He stinks," she tells Simone.
"He'll take advantage of you if you let him." And so saying, /now/ she
piously shuts up, although she's watching Pwert and his progress with her
illicit alcohol more than paying attention.

Simone eyes Banain with a grin. "Well, if you want to wash spicy food down,
I'd recommend a hard cider, or one of the darker lagers. I can only take
responsiblity for the food, so you're taking your chances with the ales."
smile. "I'm Simone. Baker Apprentice, and just hush me up if I..." she
glares at the younger apprentice. "I'll get a journeyman here to discipline
you, young baker. It's rude to interrupt people when they are talking." she
then turns her attention to the Weyrleader.

Isawen listens to K'ran's speech, slowly chewing on some sausage. Even
Rahlan's attention briefly flickered from the food, partially since he's
decided the cheese sticks are just too well guarded. Isawen, reminded of
the beer, takes another gulp from her drink, apparently having decided it's
safe by now.

Rosmyn lifts her mug of water in response to K'ran. "Here, here!" Once the
speech seems safely over, she returns Kichevio's hug just as warmly.
"Kiralee is a sweetheart. And Ivalth is not too thrilled out there, she
doesn't like the white stuff but we've been out of the barracks for several
months now. I'm in Sirocco, Mama's old wing." She settles on a nearby chair
at Kassima's and Kich's table. "I don't get to eat like this that often."
Overhearing Banain, she grins and mouths to him when she doesn't think
Simone is looking. "Say you like spicy girls too!" Hiding a smirk at the
rebuke Elaia is given by the aforementioned baker, Rosi takes another bite
of her sausage.

Banain shushes the girl with his hand, ignoring what she says. He's
listening to the Weyrleader. The boy gives a nod of his head, and grins,
giving a light clap his hands. That's just in case he's the only one he
claps. Hearing Simone's words he smirks a bit. "I'm Banain, oh and this is
my friend Elaia." Kill her with kindness. "Nah, you don't know have to be
quiet, I don't mind."

Brees listens attentively to K'ran then nods and heads off towards the meal
table smiling over at Simone. "Ista's duties to the bakers. This looks
wonderful." She says grabbing a plate to pile it up with food avoiding the
meatier and sweetened items on the table before moving along. "Do you know
if there's anything around here but ale to drink, apprentice?" She asks
Simone more quietly.

This announcement causes Kassima's expression to shade momentarily morose.
"Why is it," she asks of no one in particular, "that 'tis when I can't
drink that we finally have a big, sanctioned chance to get completely
schnockered? Why? Life is simply nay fair." Sigh. Sigh. She leans forward
in her chair to take a peek at Kaisan, and is apparently satisfied since
she flashes Ys a grateful, slightly sheepish smile. "We have wonderful
Bakers," she says to Rosmyn, "though I still miss Ofira's special stuffed
mushrooms. Nay anyone can make them quite the way she did. She didn't make
sausages like *these*, though--I like 'em. They might kill me with the
spice, but I like 'em." And she cuts free another bite, slathering it with
mustard before popping it in her mouth, as though to prove the point.

Pwert returns from the tables bearing three mugs, smiling to as he hears
Banain call Elaia a friend. He hands over a small mug of Cherry Wheat
Lambic, explaining, "I hear girls like fruity stuff. I hope it proves true
and you'll live it, Elaia." He offers a spicy smelling mug of ale to Banain,

Simone nods politely to Brees, indicating the end of the table. "Yes,
Ma'am, there's klah, tea, milk, water, hot mulled cider. Juices, too."

"Here, you wanted something spicy, right?" Pwert asks. His own seems to be
smooth cream stout one

Elaia turns up her nose at Simone and notes "Don't say I didn't warn you
/apprentice/," so there. "When you're all broken hearted and crying, don't
say I didn't tell you how it would turn out." As soon as she's in
possession of her alcohol, she looks around and mutters something about
parents again. "I'm going to go drink this somewhere private," she bats her
eyes at Pwert as if suggesting he could come with her. "I know /all/ the
hiding spots around here. Nice private secret spots. We could be alone. Hm,
fruity! Cool!" And she dances out the ways she came.

Elaia walks towards the inner cavern.

Brees shakes her head after Elaia then smiles over to Simone as she heads
down for a mug of tea. "Thank you." She says then turns back towards the
people heading over towards her sister. "Mind if I join you, Rosi?" She
asks smiling to the others around.

Simone eyes the younger apprentice. "And don't think I won't report to your
Master, you little snot." she mutters, under her breath, as she turns to
accept a new platter of cheese sticks for the table, handing the empty one
off to a lower caverns staffer.

"Good speech," Yselle tells K'ran. "Thirsty work though, I'd say," she
offers him her as yet untouched glass. She grins back at Kassima and says
"He's just a delight to hold," she says, looking at the baby again. "You're
so lucky Kassi."

Kichevio lifts her mug--hard cider--at K'ran's mention of 'sharding snow'.
"Hear hear," she comments. "The festival is good, but the weather is
frightful. The next one can be on a beach...you're in Sirocco, Rosi? Myn
never had anything but good things to say about her Wing, it's very
fitting." She listens to Kassi's fond reminiscences about stuffed mushrooms
a little skeptically, shaking her head at the mere _thought_ of eating
'shrooms, and scoots over a bit to give Brees a seat. "Pull up a spot,
Brees. Is there a guild war going on amid the Bakers down there?"

Rosmyn likes Simone more and more and absolutely beams at the baker before
nodding to Brees. "Lots of room and did you leave your little one at home?
I suppose if he doesn't like between , he wouldn't like the cold here." She
nods to Kichevio. "F'tan is a great Wingleader too. He explains things
without me feeling like he's talking down to me, you know what I mean?" She
peeks over at the serving table but shrugs, settling into her chair instead.

His announcement done, K'ran resumes his seat and leans back easily, the
better to enjoy his own mug of ale. "Surely you could have a *little*,
Kassi," he says. "I mean, just kind of... rinse your mouth out with it?"

Banain accepting the drink from Pwert, grins, tasting at it. "I like this
one." He says with a nod of his head. Hearing Simone, he laughs. "The girl
is terrible... "

Brees does just that pulling up a chair to join them. "Yeah, I left all the
children at home tonight. And no, I don't think Deris would like it here.
I'm not sure about Katela. But this is a trip for me to have a break." She
says finally reaching down to unbutton her flight jacket.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle idle.

Finishing off her plate, Isawen glances over at the food table, considering
what's out. Noting the fresh supply of cheese sticks, she hops to her feet
to get some before they are all snatched away. As she loads her plate back
up again, she pauses to grin at Simone. "This food is excellent," she tells
the baker quickly, not wanting to interrupt her conversation. "Pass on my
complements to the other bakers, will you?"

Kassima matches Yselle grin for grin, nodding to her over her mug of milk.
"I'm blessed," she says with all honesty. "He and his sister, and Kazy, and
the elder five even though they're a bit big t'hold now... I certes can't
deny m'luck. Or m'wealth." She slips back out of serious mode to admit
cheerfully to K'ran, "I'm thinking of flouting Healer's orders enough for a
glass--a small one. But then the question becomes, a glass of which? Oh,
Brees, I've been awful! I didn't ask after your new spawnlet. Or K'tdan's,
either, and I should have."

Pwert looks confused for a moment, "But, she's always nice to me, Banain.
Though," he looks about cautiously to be sure the girl truly has sneaked
off, "She was quite rude to Rosmyn yesterday. You don't study in the Living
Cavern unless you're beggin for an excuse to procrastinate." He looks up at
Banain, "So, what'd she do to put you foul? Beyond saying she hates you
wand what not?" he takes a sip of ale, before smiling at Simone, "Hey, Have
we met? I'm Pwert, by the way." he switches mug hands and offers his right
to Simone.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima apologizes for any slow posing. Idiot me made soup.
Idiot me heated it near to boiling. Idiot me then spilled it over my thumb,
and now I'm nursing some degree or other of burn. :P

Simone seems to think the tables will be all right if she leaves them, but
maybe it's an older Journeyman telling her to get a plate and have a seat
that does it. She seems to follow solid advice, chatting animatedly with
Banain as she does so. "Nothing worse than a know it all." She nods to
Pwert. "I'm Simone, well-met, Pwert. Hope you're enjoying the food."

Rosmyn watches Pwert and Banain with growing amusement, the talk of babes
and such not of great interest to her. Shaking her head at the pair, she
observes them for a moment more, before grinning over at Brees. "I was over
at Ista the other day, but you were busy, met up with some of the new
weyrlings. They seem like a nice group. Well, most of them at least."

Banain just shakes his head. "Nah, not now. I'll tell you tomorrow or
something. It's just too long and it would foul up my good mood." Pushing
his hair back he turns to Simone with a smile, finally returning to his
food with the drink, "That she is alright. I'm sure Dendra will straighten
her out eventually, girl won't survive with that attitude."

Kichevio nods, agreeing with Rosmyn. "F'tan still remembers being an
average wingrider. He's not the sort to talk down to anyone, since he's
been where they are and suffered what they have." To her credit, she
manages not to call him 'Tany'. "You're still Weyrlingmaster, Brees? How's
the group? I missed the Hatching, but Damon--D'mon now, I guess--stood here
before you got hold of him."

Pwert nods firmly to Banain, "Definately. Imagine," he says, slightly
indignantly, "Leaving with a beverage meant to be enjoyed with good
company." he lifts his glass to Banain and takes another draught, "Well met
indeed, Simone. And," he picks up a fork and takes a bite of the sausage
off his plate (left precariously on the edge of the table at that) and
smiles, "I am now, thank you. These sausages are really quit scrumptious."

Brees laughs over to Rosmyn. "Most of them? Which ones did you meet? And
yeah, I've been very busy since they hatched either with them or trying to
get a little time with my kids." She turns to smile over at Kassima.
"They're both doing well. I had a boy, Deris, just a couple days after I
saw you at the craft fesitval, actually. And K'tdan was good with the
name." She says with a grin. "Katela's getting big." She turns to nod to
Kichevio. "I am. It's a good group, all in all. D'mon, yes, he's doing
well. And Jh'or went to get his stitches out today, so it's all going well."

K'ran, surprised, leans forward again -- half to stab a sausage with his
fork for nibbling, and half to wonder, "Damon? The huge one? What'd he
Impress?"

Brees smiles over at K'ran. "A bronze, Alzaeth."

Isawen, food in hand, stops by the drink table before returning to her
seat. Uncertain what to take, she stands there for a moment before she
pours a glass at random. She moves to retake her seat, then takes a small
sip from her drink. Only to spit it right back out. "Ugh! What was that?"
she asks, glaring at her drink.

Rosmyn giggles outright now, enjoying the show of testerone from afar. She
does manage to tear her eyes away long enough to answer Brees. "Umm, you
know, none of them introduced themselves, now that I think of it. But there
were two sisters? One pleasant, the other ..well, lets just say, I'm glad
she impressed at /Ista/." Isawen's dislike of her drink is noted and she
grins sympathetically. "I guess you take your chances?"

Kassima has to laugh at that. "Good with the name, i'truth! Katela's a
lovely name, and a fortunate one, with the letter and all. I admit, his
being m'namesake made me curious whether he'd pass the K on to his
children. Felicitations t'you and your weyrmate both! 'Twill save
m'felicitations for K'tdan t'give him in person." After a few bites of
vegetables, she chimes in to the Hatching talk with, "I couldn't make it
either--'twasn't long after Kai's birth--but Khari went t'see her
half-brother Stand. Jhor would be so proud that one of his children ended
up on a green! Was it Dulath, Kich, who Searched Damon here? Wonder if'n
he's feeling smug now." Isawen's spit-take gets a half-surprised,
half-alarmed glance, and she quips, "Whatever I do drink, it shouldn't be
*that*, apparently... what's wrong with it?" she calls.

Telgar Weyr> S'dar says, "oh ack :("

"Alzaeth." K'ran turns the name over on his tongue briefly before Isawen's
disgust calls his attention. "It's a nice name... s'the matter, Isawen?" he
wonders. "Which was that?" He gets up to join her by the display of
potables. "Tunnelsnake in your drink?"

Yselle has been sitting just smiling warmly at the baby, stroking his hair
dreamily. "Kat was here not so long ago," she says, suddenly, breaking out
of her revrie. "Didn't you see him Kassi? He was showing off how his arm's
all healed now." With some amusement she muses "Maybe he /does/ come to see
me." Still, she positively beams at the discussion of Damon. "Really?" she
says. "Wow. I was always so sorry he got left on the sands."

Isawen shakes her head, staring at her drink as if it had bitten her. "I
don't know what that was, but it was -awful-. They should warn a person..."
Making a face, she quickly grabs up a piece of bread and stuffs it in her
mouth, hoping to get rid of the taste.

Banain grins, taking his seat. "Watch that there Pwert..." He says pointing
to the accident waiting to happen. "Actually my friend, I believe she
wanted you to follow her..." The boy says raising an eyebrow.

Kichevio duck-dodges Isawen's spit-take. "Not drinking from the fifth
barrel on the left," she notes for future reference. "Damon did seem like a
nice guy. And on a bronze, he'll be a good intimidator." She winks at
Brees. Have him nearby if you're negotiating a tough deal, and have him
growl or something at certain appropriate moments."

Brees laughs over at Rosmyn. "I see you met our new goldrider then, Griere.
She's an, um, interesting one. And the pleasant one would be Ceryca, unless
I've got another pair of sisters I don't know about." Brees smiles over at
Kassima and nods. "Thank you. And congratulations on your little one. I
could tell K'tdan to come visit you?" She offers. "Or order him. That would
be fun." She laughs over at Kichevio and nods. "I just may have to do that
at some point."

And Kaisan seems to appreciate such treatment, since he's settled down into
a quiet doze in Yselle's arms. His mother, meanwhile, shakes her head. "I
didn't," Kassi answers, "more's the pity, but mayhaps next time he
visits--he seems more inclined t'visit *another* greenrider than me these
days," and that's pure tease. "You might try a sausage, or the steak," she
offers to Isawen, watching that bread-stuffing. "They're both strong and
good enough flavor-wise that they might kill whatever-it-was. Oh, thankee,
Brees; and as for order... well, there's nay *need*, but far be it from me
t'deprive a greenrider of any chance t'be wicked to a bronzerider." Isn't
she just innocence itself when she says that?

Rosmyn purses her lips as she searches for something polite to say about
the girl. It's hard and her brow furrows as well. "Umm, well, she can cut
hair nicely. I'm sure she'll do Ista proud." Her meal with no utterly no
redemption finished, she places her plate down on the table and looks
toward the drinks. "Anything safe over there? I'm not much into spirits."

Pwert blinks, "Really? Shards, I thought she wanted some time to herself,
sneaking off like that." Hastily, he grabs up his plate, assembling a few
more odd items, and refilling his ale with a different brew and balancing
it on the edge of his plate, "I remember a few of the hideyspots," he says
with a wink, "Ah, it was nice meeting you Simone." He waves to Kassima and
K'ran one more time, and slips into the inner caverns.

Pwert walks towards the inner cavern.

Yselle leans back in her chair to grin at Brees in some amusement. As for
Kassima's comment, she snorts. "I'm sure if I give him what he's after
he'll find himself another greenrider to visit," she says. "Still, he's
kind of fun to have around, you know. I'll be sorry if he ever gets bored
and stops coming here. Still, I suppose his father and brother are here."

Banain finishes off his drink, and watching Pwert just shakes his head.
"Poor kid.. doesn't know what he's getting himself into." He gets up
though, and with a wave to the others, disappears outside. "I think I'm
going to take a walk."

R'var waltzes in. Flush-faced, pleasantly buzzed, he seems to have been
enjoying the festivities somewhere else. Likely he has come around for
something to eat, bottomless pit that he is. He wears breeches, a belted
tunic, boots, and a crown of leaves purloined from the autumn garlands.

Banain walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

K'ran tips his head to one side as he eavesdrops on the conversation
between Yselle and Kassima, but reserves comment in order to polish off
what's left in his mug. Eventually, he must ask, "This is Cav's boy?"

Isawen nods thankfully at Kassima's advice. "You're right, that sausage
would probably do the trick." With a glance at the cask, she shudders. "And
perhaps I'll stick to klah for the rest of the night." At the sight of
R'var, she makes a face, but carefully schools her expression as she
reaches for some of that sausage.

Brees grins over at Kassima and nods. "I'll have to order him then. What
good is having him as one of my assistants if I can't order him about?" She
jokes then laughs over to Rosmyn. "She does have some redeeming qualities,
well at least if you stay on her good side."

Rosmyn looks out to the bowl, and after a silent conversation, grins. "I
asked Ivalth to keep an eye on him." But when she looks out that way, she
can't help but note the arrival of R'var, given his odd attire. Her eyes
widen but once again, she bites her tongue, being on her best behavior is
so hard and she sighs, slumping into her chair. "I'll remember that Brees.
Oh, I did see K'tdan too. He's all talk, isn't he? He flirted with me as a
weyrling but didn't give me the time of day as a rider." She doesn't look
overly upset at that however.

Kassima points out while breaking a piece of cornbread, "Or a bluerider,
brownrider, Crafter, or Lower Caverns woman; I don't think K'tdan confines
himself t'greenriders, only t'females." Pause. "And I'm nay dead sure about
the females. Fortunately, since he calls me 'Auntie' and since Cav would
kill us both I don't have t'worry about him getting flirty with me--aye,
K'ran, one of 'em. I heard Aine's latest was a lad, too, so he has three
now. Methinks he's a sister here too, Ys: Kaveri, Keri's daughter, though
for all I know she *might* be gone to a Craft. I've lost touch. What,
Brees, y'mean you've made that letch an *Assistant Weyrlingmaster*?" She's
amused rather than truly scandalized, though. To Isawen, she recommends,
"Y'might try the cider if'n you're wanting something different. 'Tis
usually well-made, though I've only had the milk yet tonight m'self so I
can't swear on m'life to the quality."

Yselle looks up at K'ran, a little startled. "Oh," she says after a moment.
"Yes. K'tdan. Faorath's rider." She assures Kassima "I've heard all about
it. He kind of reminds me of Tel, actually. Except Tel's a little less
discriminating."

Brees nods her head over to Kassima with a laugh. "Not just females, just
mostly females." She says with a grin. "And I did. He's doing a good job at
it so far as well." Brees laughs over at Rosmyn. "He knows you're my
sister." She says as if that explains everything.

K'ran nods at the answers, and lets his attention slide back over to
Isawen. "If not the cider or the klah," he recommends, "something light.
Look for something that's an easy amber color, hm? Those go down smoothest."

Rosmyn looks a little put out at that. "Well, just cause I'm your sister
doesn't mean I don't like having someone pay attention to me once in a
while. You are as bad as Da sending his cronies out to spy on me."

R'var overfills a mug, and watches ale spill down his hand and forearm a
moment. It registers, then, in his mind. He runs his arm over his mouth,
and then slurps the mug's edge to even it out. His low-lidded, thickly
lashed eyes gaze off contentedly beyond the rim. Noting Isawen, the
reluctant Keranian he enjoys tormenting, he seems to wait for her to take a
bite of the sausage before he flashes a roguish grin. He nearly lets Yselle
pass without some further antagonism, as he nearly does not recognize her
the way she dresses. He flicks one of the leaves on his head, and walks over.

"'Tis half a wonder he hasn't more children yet," Kassima drawls. "I hope
he'll remember t'encourage their mothers t'name 'em with the Fortunate
Letter." Her eyes wander back towards her own K-named child, and a soft
smile automatically crosses her face before she snaps back out of it. "Is
he? Well, what d'you know. 'Twill have t'congratulate him on that, too. And
ask him by the end of the class which of them are the worst gamblers; a
hunch tells me he'll have found out along the way."

Suan walks here from the Inner Cavern.

Yselle looks quite abashed, actually, and a little uncomfortable. "K'ran,"
she says, after a moment. "I..." she looks awkward. "It's... yeah. Um.
Faranth's knees, what are you wearing R'var?"

As the sound of breaking glass in a bar, there are certain things that
K'ran simply cannot stand to hear, and the sound of spilled beer is
apparently one: when R'var overfills that mug he half-turns and prepares to
unveil the Weyrleader Death Glare -- until he takes in the bluerider's
attire, and begins to snicker. "That's an interesting costume, R'var," he
mentions. "I wish your sister were here to see it. Did you think this was
supposed to be fancy-dress?"

Suan comes into the cavern, sleeping child in a sling around her body.
"Sebrings' duties and a good evening!" She carries a basket of redfruits on
her free hip.

Isawen, munching gratefully on the sausage, struggles to frown at R'var and
chew at the same time. She gathers her plate back up and considers
Kassima's recommendation, nodding at K'ran as well. "I just...thought
they'd all be somewhat the same." She scoops up a mug of cider as a backup.
She carefully examines the casks again, this time taking only a small bit
of a much lighter beer. Peering at it closely, she says, "Maybe this one
will be safe."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Memo to self number two: if you're going to try
sucking on a burned thumb to see if that makes it stop hurting, do so
*before* the multiple applications of butter and peach moisturizing lotion,
not *after*. Ugh."

Telgar Weyr> Suan chuckles.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Poor you."

Suan bustles along in her fancy dress, offering the fresh redfruits to the
cooks by the kitchen.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Cold water is the best though."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "This is turning into a comedy of errors. ;) I
suspect I made an interesting face when I stuck my knuckle in my mouth and
only then remembered all the stuff I'd put on it. Ick, ick. Yeah, I'm doing
that periodically too, and a cold pack."

Telgar Weyr> Yselle managed to grate one thumb and burn the other before
her exams.

Brees waves over to Suan. "And Ista's to Sebrings." She calls before
laughing over at Rosmyn. "I'm not that bad, am I? Beside Kat's Kat. He
probably would have done the same thing even if I hadn't said anything to
him." She says then smiles over at Kassima. "I'll have to ask at some point
and see if he knows. And it is kind of suprising he doesn't have more
children. He's a good father, though." She says then turns to dig into her
food.

Telgar Weyr> K'ran feels your pain, Kassi. I've been cooking a whole mess
of caramel on the stove, lately, for the purpose of peanut brittle and
whatnot. Last night I managed to get a bit of molten sugar stuck on my
thumb and forefinger.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Oh ouch"

Simone heads over to take the basket of redfruits from Suan with a smile.
"Baker's duties, and thanks very much."

Telgar Weyr> K'ran says, "Yeah. Burns on the fingers are not the most fun
thing in the world. :}"

Suan smiles. "The Sebrings wanted to offer something for the festival too,
since you've been so kind with your hospitality here." She smiles and nods
to the baker and then turns to the tables, getting herself some stew, a bit
of bread and some mulled cider before looking around for a place to sit.

Rosmyn calls out her duties to Sebring as well but unfolds herself from her
chair, smirking down at Brees. "No, you just got him sufficiently scared
with that Weyrlingmaster look you have and introducing me as your sister,
that's all; not that I'm interested in him but shells, some times.." She
glances out to the bowl once again. "Ivalth says Banain is starting to look
blue and wants to know if he can keep that colour as it looks better with
his hair colouring. So I guess we are heading home." As she fastens her
jacket, she nods to K'ran, then to the other Telgari's she knows. "Thank
you for your hospitality it was a true pleasure."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima owowows! Yeah, that sounds worse. Ow.

Telgar Weyr> Maylia once upended a pot full of boiling water (and
spaghetti) on my foot ... *that* hurt. Lemmetellya, shoes hurt for weeks.
(oh, and hi :) )

Telgar Weyr> Suan ignited her thumb lighting a sparkler once. Yeah, not fun...

Telgar Weyr> Suan sighs. Did I miss the party completely? I got called away
unexpectedly. :/

Kassima nods a greeting to the Trader, forestalled from a more audible one
by a mouthful of cheese. "Nay much of a drinker?" she asks Isawen once
she's swallowed with amused sympathy. "Beer's nay m'area of expertise
either; I go in for the harder liquors or wine, but I can promise you
they're different. Do you gamble too?" she inquires of Brees. "I'm glad
t'hear the last. Mind you, I suspect Cav would skin him alive if'n he
*weren't* a good father t'his spawn. Oh, pleasure t'meet you, Rosmyn.
Duties t'Igen and her queens, clear skies, and all that, hey?"

"It's the new style," R'var assures Yselle in his low, slurred voice, the
words running together as if trapped in dark syrup. "Want me to make you
one?" He smiles sedately at Yselle, and shows Kassima a warm nod. "Hey." He
blinks so slowly that his thick lashes touch the lower, linger there a
moment, and then rise again. "You look almost normal, Yselle. Nice. So this
is the dress Tel was trying.. ah, telling me, about." He licks his lips.
"Telling about," he affirms.

Brees offers a hug out to Rosmyn. "Have a good trip home and come visit
sometime." She turns back to her food with a proud smile. "I have a scary
Weyrlingmaster look?"

Rosmyn laughs as she hugs Brees. "Yes you do. It comes with the knot." And
then she's off.

Rosmyn walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

K'ran half-rises to bid Rosmyn a farewell -- "Thank you for coming, hm?
And, hey. Take back something for Sarai and M'val and Terrilia, Rosmyn.
And, for that matter, anybody else." His eyes then track that basket of
redfruits. "What else can we offer the Sebrings, Suan, other than redfruits?"

Yselle's gaze is glazed for a moment. She looks up and /smiles/ at K'ran,
whether he sees it or not. Just smiles. Of course, R'var's the cure to any
smiling. "Thank you," she says. "I'm so glad I look /almost/ normal. If I'd
known you liked it so much I would've worn a dress just for you a long time
ago," sarcastic? You bet. "And honestly? T'van is not /my/ property, all I
have to say is that if he was messing around with you, he's got less
discrimination than I credit him for."

Suan chooses a seat within earshot of Yselle, as she's the person she has
seen the most of since coming to the weyr, and begins to enjoy her late
dinner.

Simone sets the basket of redfruits near the end of the tables with a
smile, looking pleased as punch that her food is liked. She finally,
finally, gets herself a plate and sits down.

Isawen shakes her head at Kassima. "No... I don't drink very often."
Looking hopeful, she takes a tentative sip of the new drink. "Oh, this one
is much better," she says in relief. "More like the first one." Satisfied,
she struggles to carry her beer, the cider, and the plate all back to her
seat.

Kassima nods with cautious amusement back to R'var. "Nice hairpiece," she
seconds; it's hard to tell whether she's being deadpan, or actually means
it. "--Y'know, Ys, if'n I didn't know better, I'd think he was flirting
with you, with all that lip-licking going on." She grins at Isawen's
relief. "D'you know which one that is?" she asks. "I'm limiting m'self
t'one glass tonight, and trying t'choose which one t'try. So if'n that
one's good...."

K'ran, again, half-rises, just in case Isawen should need some help getting
back to her seat. "Which one did you get?" he wonders of her, gently -- and
when he dances a look back toward Yselle and R'var and *their*
back-and-forth, his lips curve with amusement.

Telgar Weyr> Suan sighs. BRB

Brees looks between Yselle and R'var with interest and a laugh before she
turns down to finishing up her food.

Isawen carefully sets down her plate, managing not to tip anything bad
enough to spill it. She points out the cask she poured her drink from.
"That one... I forgot to check what it was called." She pauses, hands going
to her hips, as she notices a boy by the casks. "Rahlan! Don't you dare!"

"I'm not proddy," Yselle says drily. "And I haven't had any of this either
yet," indicating her beer. "Therefore I'm completely immune to R'var's
charms." She even adjusts the baby in her arms to cover her low neckline a
little. Still, now she mentions the beer, she does reach for it and take a
sip, nodding to K'ran who brought it for her in the first place, so long
ago. She frowns a little as though trying to place the taste.


[Editor's Note:  Another descfest follows. ;)  I *did* try 
all of the beers, though not at once, but I'm putting the
descs all together for the sake of easy reading.]

---

Beer Table:
A series of tables has been lashed together in an expansive U shape, and
set to one side of the living cavern's hearth where they command attention.
The table is laden with a series of casks and barrels, presumably all late
seasonal brews brought into Telgar for the festival, in defiance of the
weather. Behind the table toil who can only be the brewers themselves; they
smile generously at any who compliment their work, and scowl if their brew
goes unfavored. A 'beer-menu' lists the various potables available -- some
are normal brews, while others, owing to the tastes of their makers, are a
bit more exotic.

                           Beers available include:                           
                        ------------------------------                        
                         Autumn Golden Lager - 'lager'                        
                        Amber Barleywine - 'barleywine'                       
                          Strong Amber Ale - 'amber'                          
                        Cream Raisin Porter - 'raisin'                        
                        Cherry Wheat Lambic - 'cherry'                        
                         Smooth Cream Stout - 'cream'                         
                       Autumn Festival Ale - 'festival'                       
                            Bastard Ale - 'bastard'                           
                          Dark Garnet Ale - 'garnet'                          
                             Spiced Ale - 'spice'                             
                            Harvest Ale - 'harvest'                           
                               Yule Ale - 'yule'                              


Autumn Golden Lager:
This lager boasts a rich golden color, delightful floral bouquet, and
light, fresh flavor of newly mowed hay. It pours yellow and fizzy, with a
large head that fades quickly. The aroma of fresh bread is carried up from
the glass. Its flavor starts softly sweet followed by a hint bitterness,
and finishes lightly spicy and a little dry.

Amber Barleywine:
This amber barleywine pours to a nice, medium brown color with moderate
head, dissipates quickly, but has good carbonation and decent lacing. It
carries a delicious smell of fruity sweetness, barley, and even a little
cinnamon. Tangy bite on the first taste, nice full mouthfeel with good
zesty fizziness and a little bite of bitter hops and spice on the end. The
flavor does not have much sweetness--only enough there to fill out the
mouthfeel and make it go down easy.

Strong Amber Ale:
Cloudy, deep amber, with a fiery red when held before bright light, this
ale carries a thin but dense tan head. Though the aroma carries fruity
tones, the flavor is malty and only slightly sweet; the ale itself is full
bodied and creamy, with a slight dryness in the finish.

Cream Raisin Porter:
Dark raisin in hue, this porter has a strong aroma of butter, klah, cedar,
and other, stronger alcoholic beverage. The head is tan and tightly
bubbled, and disappears quickly. The flavor is rather complex, some may
identify strong klah, others a creamy vanilla taste; all carry a lingering
burnt undertone.

Cherry Wheat Lambic:
This lambic has a spicy, herbal overtone, and is somewhat dry in taste, due
to wheat malt--that, in turn, compliments the tart fruit flavor. Like
several of the offerings today, this beer has a deep amber/red hue; a
strong, fruity scent also makes this one easily identifiable.

Smooth Cream Stout:
Deep, rich, and full-bodied, this beer has a klah-like aftertaste to it,
after its initial sweet flavor. Its color is dark brown with hints of ruby,
with a creamy tan head and good lacing, and the vague aroma of klah is
easily identifiable to anyone who smells it.

Autumn Festival Ale:
Autumn Festival Ale is a seasonal brew; reddish amber as the turning
leaves, with a fruity aroma and a malty kick. It pours with a white head
that fizzes away quickly, leaving traces of lace along the sides of the glass.

Bastard Ale:
This masterpiece pours a nice copper color with a foamy white head. The
aroma wafting up from the mug smacks of spices and malt. But it's the first
sip that makes this brew unique as an explosion of flavor hits your tongue
running. Malty and fruity to start, the smokeyness of the roasted barley
quickly takes over and runs rampant in your mouth leaving behind a pleasant
bitterness that screams out 'Drink more!'

Dark Garnet Ale:
This brew is a nice deep, dark garnet color in the mug. It's lacy head
evaporates quickly under the force of the bready aroma. It tastes, at
first, mildy sweet and only slightly alcoholic, but that quickly changes as
the flavor expands across your tongue and takes on hints of toasted bread
and caramel, and the strength of the brew becomes apparent. It evaporates
quickly in the mouth, leaving a soft alchoholic kiss behind.

Spiced Ale:
>From the cask to the mug, this beer is a deep reddish black. It's tan foamy
head vanishes rather quickly, and the burnt sugar and woody aroma is
detectable even when the mug sits on the table before you. The palate is
more compled than most, with overtones of charred spices, wood and malt. It
starts easy on the tongue, but opens up into a bit more aggressive
alcoholic taste by the finish.

Harvest Ale:
This one is a little scarly looking as it is poured. A hazy ruddy brown
with a finger high dark ivory head sits in the mug staring back at you,
almost daring you to drink. Before you can lift the mug to your lips,
however, the head has evaporated, leaving behind and aroma...and what an
aroma it is. Pleasantly sweet and musky, if you take a deep whiff, you'd
swear you had just finished doing something naughty. The taste however,
belies the murky look of the beer as it explodes on your tongue in a
jubilant dance of alcohol, malt and toffee.

Yule Ale:
A red/gold river dances from cask to mug as this beer is poured. The
enegertic head dances for quite some time, wafting the light and fruity
aroma nosewards. The taste, however, is a force to be reconed with. It's
hearty, with a broad malty flavor and overtones of woodyness that finishes
with an unobtrusive bitter flavor that just warms you all over.

---


Brees finishes off her tea and stands up. "Thank you all for your
hospitality tonight. I need to be getting back to Ista to check on the
weyrlings before bed."

"Huh." K'ran gets up the rest of the way, now, to evaluate the cask
Isawen's pointed to -- and if he happens to ward Rahlan away from the beer
with his presence, so much the better. "This one?" He draws a mug from the
cask that she's indicated. "Mmm. Little bit red-gold, darker than I
expected. So has everybody had enough? Should we vote for favorites now?"

Telgar Weyr> Harolf peeks out. Waves.

Telgar Weyr> K'ran says, "Heya, Harolf. Come have beer with us."

Telgar Weyr> R'var says, "Duuude."

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Hey Harolf!"

Telgar Weyr> Harolf's making butterhorn rolls right now.

Telgar Weyr> Harolf says, "Well. The yeast is proofing..."

Telgar Weyr> Suan wonders what a butterhorn is.

Telgar Weyr> Simone is cooling a big fat chocolate cheesecake :)

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Oh"

Kassima peers towards the cask in question, clearly making mental note.
"Mayhaps instead of a glass of just one, I could have tiny sips of
several," she murmurs. "Like at the tasting hall." Her mostly-demolished
plates of food and empty glass of milk get thoughtful looks, and she ends
up pushing her chair out from the table to rise and meander cheerfully
beer-wards. "Better nay," she advises the boy at caskside once she's there.
"She sounds like she might remove your liver if'n you do. Through your
nose. Using a fork. And then she'd dance on it and feed you the pulpy
remains." This merry advice delivered, she sees about acquiring glasses of
this one... and that one... and that one over there... oh, all right, so
she gets a glass of everything. But they're *small* glasses, with barely a
sip each. "Amber for luck, raisin *nay* in Kai's honor because he's nay a
fruit, the festival for the Festival and garnets for m'garnets, and bastard
for obvious reasons," she recites to herself as she goes. "Nay quite ready
yet, K'ran, but y'might want t'vote without me anyway. With my luck those
lovely spicy sausages have completely fried m'taste buds. Clear skies,
Brees! Regards t'your children, weyrmate, Weyrlings, and all, aye?"

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Happy Thanksgiving guys. I know I'll forget to
tell you later."

Telgar Weyr> K'ran grins. "Cooking all over the place, tonight. Kichevio
was frosting a cake, Kassi was making soup. I'm making caramel."

Telgar Weyr> Harolf says, "A butterhorn is a dinner roll I make from
scratch every T-day."

Telgar Weyr> Suan says, "How do you get the horns to grow on it?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima gets to pop a turkey dinner into the microwave
tomorrow! That's the nice thing about living in a two-person household
where only one person eats meat. The meat dish becomes easy. ;) And thanks,
Ys. :)

K'ran lifts a hand in a farewell wave after Brees as *she* gets up to go.
"Hey, thanks for coming, Brees. Take something back for your assistants,
will you? And Reye, too."

Telgar Weyr> K'ran grins. Thanks, Ys.

Brees nods her head and smiles over at K'ran. "I will." She says heading
towards the food. "And maybe for Liz, too. Make up for all her new
responsibilities." The greenrider jokes then nods to Kassima. "Thank you."

Suan sighs as the baby in her arms becomes fussy and stands, "I'm sorry.
Please excuse us."

Suan says "Clear skies!"

Suan walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Isawen grins widely, much amused at Kassima's words to Rahlan. "Especially
since he's already 'snuck' a couple drinks that I wasn't supposed to
see..." she adds. The boy, a bit outnumbered, retreats to the safety of a
group of boys closer to his age. Isawen takes another sip from her drink
before nodding her head. "I only tried two of them, but I liked the first
one better...the barleywine."

"Completely immune? How do you know for certain?" R'var shows Yselle his
brightest smile, radiating charisma like a small blond sun. "A shame about
the dress, you know.. it shall be entirely ruined in the steam baths, I'm
thinking. But it'll be worth it. Come on. Everyone's over there. We could
go bobbing for apples." He finally seems to register the baby-- probably
because Yselle now uses it to hide her cleavage. "Wuh.. hey, little man.
Look at -you-."

With a great deal of care, Yselle stands and hands the baby back to
Kassima. "He's asleep," she tells her, although, surely Kassima has worked
that out. She just stares at R'var. "You're joking right? You've just come
from Tel's bed and you've got your beer goggles on, and I'm supposed to say
/yes/ to this?" She tosses her head and says. "Sober up. Remember how
unattractive you find me." She picks up her beer, and takes a second sip.
Then she walks over to K'ran, leans close to mutter something to him before
heading out. "Steam baths," she can be heard to mutter. "Faranth preserve
us all."

Yselle walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar Weyr> Yselle says, "Take care all. :)"

Brees walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

"Oh, good," says Kassi brightly, "then his liver should make a most
satisfying liquid, squishy sound when you dance on it." There's a wink and
grin to follow, before Kassi resumes her seat and sets about sampling with
all the enthusiasm of a lush deprived of drinks for most of a year who's
now found a loophole. It's as well that Kaisan's mostly asleep in Ys's arms
and can't see what a dubious role model his mother is being, though at
least she extends her little finger as she sips each glass. At being
addressed, he stirs a little and opens his mouth to display his lack of
teeth in a tiny yawn, though as yet his eyelids only flutter rather than
opening. Kassi hastens to set down the latest glass in order to accept her
son. "Thankee for looking after him, Ys--" she calls after the greenrider.
"Pshhh. Missed her."

A few other riders register votes for this or that of the twelve brews: the
Bastard Ale seems particularly popular with Duskflame Wing, but votes for
the others seem relatively even, with only the Autumn Festival Ale seeming
to be a turkey, to the disappointment of its brewer. The barleywine,
though, is apparently a favorite beyond just Isawen, and manages to eke out
a small but clear lead among the voters. "Wouldn't thing something so sweet
would--" begins K'ran, but whatever Yselle murmurs to him causes him to
stop momentarily to watch her departure from the living cavern with a smile
on his face. "Wouldn't have thought something so sweet would be so popular.
What did you think of the barleywine, Kassima? Tell you what: we'll call
your vote the clincher."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Hey, K'ran, did you do all the beer descs?
They're great. :)"

Telgar Weyr> K'ran says, "Actually A'lex and Nimiriel did them. All I can
take credit for is collecting them and putting them on an object. They did
a really great job. :)"

Kassima listens to the votes with half an ear, her interest, however keen,
not as great as her interest in the beer itself. "Mmph," is her surprised
reaction to K'ran's proposal, but she nods agreeably and finishes her
tasting with, if anything, even more care. "Personally, I'm torn between
the garnet and the bastard ale," she confesses, after a quick pause to
confirm her mental notes on which was which. "But the barleywine was
impressive--the only thing I'd personally count against it is that it
tastes a bit like cinnamon, and I'm nay a cinnamon fan. Overall, though, I
like it."

Isawen, eyeing Rahlan pointedly to see if he could have overheard the words
about his liver, chuckles. Her vote in the matter of brews done, she sips
at her cider and finishes up the last bits of food on her plate, trying not
to make a mess with her last cheesesticks.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Plaudits to them, then. :) They're really cool.
I've only had one sip of beer in my life (and hated it; but then, it was in
a can and I was ten ;), but the descriptions are vivid enough to give an
impression even without experience to draw on. :)"

"You're the one who sees yourself in the worst light," R'var murmurs after
Yselle, but his slow, syrupy words do not carry far. Just as well, he must
preserve his shallow, self-obsessed, and oversexed reputation. He goes to
drain his mug, but finds it already emptied. He turns it upside down and
shakes out a few drops. "And hey, you," he has Kaisan know. "You could have
backed me up there, little man. Put in a good word. All you did was sit
there. And look adorable." He laughs a little, dark-eyed, content, and a
little drunk. He is having a great time. "Hey, where's your teeth, buddy?
Look at those flappy gums."

"Call it done, then," decides K'ran, and from within his jacket produces a
small blue ribbon. This he slides across the table toward Isawen, and
points her toward the beaming farmer who's patting the top of the cask of
barleywine proudly. "Here, want to award this?"

Telgar Weyr> Harolf mmm. Beer.

Telgar Weyr> R'var says, "Come on down, Harry!"

Kaisan's started to wake in truth between the jostling of being transferred
and the sound of voices: he cracks open long-lashed eyes, gazing up with
cloudy blue irises that cross and recross as he tries to focus. Kassima
laughs, adjusting the baby in her arms so that he can better 'listen.'
"He's a spawn of the forces of darkness," she informs R'var solemnly,
"which is probably why he didn't back you up. 'Twould be an un-evil thing
t'do. And his teeth are doubtless going t'be venomous fangs rather than
*normal* teeth, so for now 'tis only grateful I am he lacks them." Kaisan
answers this charge by vaguely waving a hand in the direction of Mum's
face, and succeeding quite by accident in slapping her chin. It's just as
well that her eyes have wandered towards that happy-seeming farmer, and her
attention's thus distracted; she grins at the man and seems not to register
the hit at all.

Telgar Weyr> R'var is being Duffman for the evening.

Telgar Weyr> Simone likes beer. Hubby likes beer too. But we like /good/
beer, and we mostly drink it with food. Occasionally.

Isawen blinks at the ribbon, then smiles and picks it up with a nod.
"Alright." She makes her way to the brewer of the barleywine and hands the
ribbon to him with a broad smile. "Congratulations," she says, tapping the
cask lightly. "You made a fine brew." Not that she really knows much about
it, but she beams at the farmer anyway.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima hasn't found any alcohol she really likes, except for
very cheap, sweet champagne. It's probably just as well, but kind of
comical given Kassi's deep love of almost anything with alcohol in it. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Harolf's got a sixer of Shiner in the fridge.

The farmer accepts the ribbon as if it were a precious thing, and after
nodding seriously in answer to Isawen, throws up his hands in a terrific
cheer. Some of his friends among the holdfolk clap him on the shoulders;
others curse their luck and swear to do better next Turn. K'ran's full of
laughter for this, and after the cheering dies down, allows, "We should do
this more often. Have to figure out a way to keep the Bakers coming up with
meals like this, though."

Telgar Weyr> K'ran ought to head out to Safeway before tomorrow, and get a
six of something.

Simone grins over at the weyrleader with a smile. "Just ask, I had a lot of
fun creating this menu and these dishes."

"Again this time next Turn?" Kassi suggests hopefully. "That's m'personal
vote, since if'n I'm either pregnant or nursing again by then someone
should just put a crossbow bolt through m'head." She puts this sentiment on
hold to beam and belatedly whistle for the farmer, her lack of two free
hands preventing applause.

R'var applauds for the winning farmer, and punches once at the air. When he
turns back to Kassima and the baby, he has a broad grin. "I'm headed on.
You two, you two have a great time. A great time. Stay away from crossbows,
Kassima." He shows a hand in a stationary wave, and journeys on to further
his magical adventures in the steam baths. Before departing, he makes a
slight detour to fill his mug. And drop by Isawen.

Isawen starts to head back to her seat, clearly pleased at being able to
hand the award to the farmer. Her smile falters when she sees R'var, and
she takes a deep breath. Determined not to let her good mood be spoiled,
she forces herself to smile again, biting her lips with the effort.

K'ran offers just one good-natured recommendation to Kassima as he gets to
his feet: "Don't go within arm's length of I'sai," he chuckles. "I think
I'm to bed, myself -- sleep some of this off before drills tomorrow.
Thanks, all of you for coming;" and that's to the holdfolk as much as the
weyrfolk. "G'night!"

"Did you see the look on his face?" R'var asks of Isawen as he jaunts on
over. He takes a shiny red apple from the centerpiece, and bites into it.
"Look." He nods his leaf-wreathed blond head in the direction of the farmer
she awarded.

Kassima lightly takes hold of Kai's errant arm to make him wave to R'var as
the bluerider goes. Kaisan blinks but is amenable enough not to fuss.
Whatever you say, mamajama. "'Twill do m'level best," said mamajama assures
R'var solemnly. "On both counts! And same t'you, also on both counts, I
guess." K'ran's suggestion is met with a decidedly amused snort. "He's a
talented man, but an *arm's* length would still be safe." Pause. "Probably.
G'deve t'you, too, K'ran, and thankee for throwing this shindig!"

K'ran walks down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.

Telgar Weyr> K'ran says, "Time for me to head to Safeway to do some
last-minute Thanksgiving shopping. Thanks, everybody, for coming. :)"

Telgar Weyr> R'var says, "Happy holiday, Crayon!"

Telgar Weyr> Simone says, "Wheee! :) Happy thanksgiving, K'ran :)"

Isawen follows the gesture, looking back at the farmer. "Yes..." she
begins, a little uncertain of the point. "He looks very happy. Quite glad
to get that ribbon, he was."

R'var laughs softly. "I want a ribbon," he remarks as he takes a deep drink
of his mug. "Are you having a good time? You should put on some leaves,
like me. You'll feel better."

Simone unties a pink ribbon that was holding her hair back and offers it
over to R'var with a smirk. "Ribbon."

Isawen raises an eyebrow at the bluerider, and glances around herself as if
looking for backup. "Sorry, I don't have any more ribbons..." She grins as
Simone supplies one for him. "Ah, there you go. I'll pass on the leaves
though. Probably crumple and I'd never get them out of my hair..."

"I suppose there's nay harm in stripping the place bare at this point,"
Kassi observes with wry humor, having left her table long enough to fetch a
glass of cider with which to wash all that beer down. "But speaking as one
of those who got collared into helping with the garlands, I'm nay sure 'tis
the purpose the makers originally had in mind."

"Ho ho. Well look at my fortune." The young man has a beaming grin. There
is the tiniest gap between his front two flashing teeth. "If you'll tie it
on, my lady?" Bitten apple in one hand, mug of beer in the other, he nobly
bends his autumn leaf-wreathed head so Simone may attach his new award.

Simone snickers and ties the ribbon 'round the bluerider's head, making
sure there's a big ol bow. "There you be." she goes back to her dinner,
chuckling to herself.

Isawen nods in agreement with Kassima's last statement, looking at R'var
with both ribbon and leaves on his head. "Though I must say," she adds to
the bluerider, "Pink is definitely your color."

"Terribly manly," Kassima seconds. "If'n Yselle could see you now, she'd
faint at your feet. Probably ask you t'weyrmate a'fore the night was out."
Somewhere, Yselle starts plotting Kassima's death.

R'var bows a gracious thank-you to Simone, and laughs all over again. He is
too confident, roguish, and tipsy to take it with anything less than the
best of humor. "I'm telling you," he declares, lordly, as he drinks from
his mug. "It's the new style. Mark my words." Now, if you'll ladies excuse
me.. " He flashes a grin, and, eyeing the half-eaten apple in his hand, he
drops it onto Isawen's plate. "This is for you." He gives it a pat, and
starts to walk off toward his original destination, the steambaths. Likely,
sometime late tomorrow mid-morning, he will wake up there wearing only that
ribbon and a look of confusion.

R'var walks towards the inner cavern.

Kassima eyes the newly-bestowed apple, trying and completely failing to
hide her entertained state. "That has t'be unique among admirer gifts," she
decides. "Or if'n 'tisn't, I'm nay sure I want t'know about it." Looking
down at Kaisan, she instructs him, "Word to the wise: try t'remember
t'leave a woman with a *whole* apple. Got it? She may still think you're
strange, but at least she'll be less likely t'worry about your germs." Kai
fidgets within his blankets, restless. Only a month old and already he's
impatient with womanly advice.

Isawen shakes her head at the apple, muttering a much sarcastic 'thank you'
after the tipsy rider. Pushing her plate away, she shrugs and adds, "At
least he was too drunk to be insulting." Kassima's advice to the babe
brings a grin to her face and she adds, "You should pay attention. That's a
very important lesson there."

Simone nods, leaning back in her chair. "Well, I think this went well. My
first gather as a Baker and no real mishaps."

"He seemed on good behavior tonight," Kassi agrees. "Although I'm nay
really fit t'judge; we don't oft run into each other, so most of what I
know of him is hearsay. But nay anyone who spends time admiring one of
m'children can be all bad." Ah, motherly devotion. Isawen's words don't
seem to move the little boy: he only squirms more, to the point where Kassi
sets down her glass so she can hold onto him with both arms. "It seemed
t'go very well! The food was excellent; those sausages seemed the talk of
the night." There's a pause. "It occurs t'me," she says, apologetic, "that
I don't know either of your names. M'manners really are appalling. I'm
Kassima, for what 'tis worth; the bairn's m'youngest son, Kaisan."

Simone chuckles, "My manners are worse then, I've seen you about the living
cavern since I'm in here all the time and never thought of introducing
myself. I'm Simone, baker apprentice."

Isawen nods in agreement with Simone's words about the event. "The food was
wonderful. I think I ate enough for several people." To Kassima, she shakes
her head slightly, "With all the going ons, I didn't even think to
introduce myself. I'm Isawen, from Keroon." Both mother and baby get a smile.

Kassima grins wryly at Simone. "I don't spend as much time in here as I
used to, but I know I've seen you about too. Well met t'you both; a
pleasure and all that. I heard something about your posting,
Simone--assistant to Shoshana, 'tis nay so?--but nay what brought you up to
this ice cube of a land, Isawen."

Isawen points to where a group of boys are picking off the last bits of
food from the serving table. "One of those bottomless pits over there is my
brother. I came to bring Rahlan home, but now we have to wait for winter to
go back." Hearing his name, the boy looks up from where he's picking at a
pie to make a face and stick out his tongue at his older sister.

Simone walks towards the inner cavern.

"Rahlan?" Kassima repeats. "If'n 'twere Weyrborn, I'd ask if'n he were any
relation t'F'hlan by chance. Alas, that seems unlikely given givens. Has
nay rider offered you two a ride back to the Hold?"

Isawen hurriedly shakes her head, checking to make sure Rahlan hadn't heard
the last part. "Oh, I couldn't let him. You see, he ran away from home -
well, from our Uncle's actually - to come to the Weyr and see dragons and
all, but hoping we wouldn't find him. If he got to ride one home... it'd be
like rewarding him. He'd run away again for another ride home."

Kassima is a bit more successful this time in not showing her amusement...
but 'a bit' may be worth stressing. "You hear of people running away from
home t'come see dragons oft enough, but nay so oft of someone actually
coming t'*get* them. Well, 'twill agree with you; and you might want
t'spread word, if'n you haven't already, that 'twould be appreciated if'n
nay anyone gave him a ride. With it being winter, there may be riders bored
enough t'indulge a youngling who asked for such a thing." Yes, she keeps
her voice down for that part. "I can have Lyss pass the word t'my
Wingriders that he'd be better nay indulged, if'n you like."

Isawen smiles at Kassima gratefully. "Thank you for the warning, and I'd
indeed appreciate it if you did let them know. He got his wish to come to
the Weyr, and we'll be staying here for the winter, but I don't want him to
enjoy -too- much. Mom and Dad were worried sick."

Kassima nods amiably, her grin shading rueful. "I've never had a child run
from home, but 'tis still a thing I can understand. I'd likely sooner see
him tanned than rewarded if'n 'twas his parent, so...." Speaking of
parenting, Kaisan's decided that he's been well-behaved long enough, and he
starts to whimper, the prelude to a full-lunged howl. Hey! Everyone else
got to eat! When's it *his* turn? Kassima winces, and gives Isawen an
apologetic look. "I'd best get him fed and asleep; 'tis far and away past
the hour for it, but his good behavior lulled me into complacency... shhh,
shhh, Kai, nay deafening people! 'Tis rude!" The baby doesn't seem to care.
"--Shells. Nice meeting you though, in any event, and best of luck with
your brother, all right?"

"Nice meeting you as well... And Kaisan. Nothing wrong with his lungs,
certainly." Isawen winces at the sound, nodding a farewell to Kassima.
"Thank you. Have a nice night, when he quiets down."

"They're the healthiest part of him, and every part is healthy as best the
Healers know," Kassi wryly agrees, gathering up her milk mug to take with
her, and detouring to her old chair long enough to gather up her cloak.
Kaisan yells the whole time, so it's little wonder she's quick about it. "I
hope to!" she calls over his cries, on her way out. "Dream sweet and sleep
well when 'tis your turn!"

You walk down the short tunnel and out into the bowl.