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We Are On Errantry, And We Greet You


Date:  February 23, 2005
Place:  Master Beast Hall's Apprentice Lounge
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:  One!  One runner!  Bwahahaha!  Yes, I'll stop it with 
the Count Von Count impression now.  M'rek has Kassima given six green 
runners to deliver where she wills.  Since he suggested Learan as a 
recipient, and further asked her to check in with Cailin on the 
subject, the Beastcraft seems a good place to start.

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The Log:

MBH-Lounge>> Learan settles down to have a nice, quiet read of the latest
messages. Quiet and peaceful, even the apprentices are studying quietly.
What could go wrong?

MBH-Lounge>> Cailin's entrance is like any other day. Hides in one hand, a
cup held in the other. Surely she's up to work and no form of trouble. But
then, she doesn't have to cause trouble, it just follows her at times.

You stoop, and enter the poorly-lit lounge.

Learan is so engrossed with his hides, he's not aware of his aide's
arrival. Or the sudden whispers and quick pointing by the apprentices.

Now, Kassima... she causes trouble. Or, occasionally, goes out drinking
with it, and plans to have children named Lemonsmile with it. But there's
no obvious trouble with her today, just bundle of wildly-painted cloth; and
she's whistling, as she enters. Whistling cheerfully. Surely that's a good
sign? "Duties to the Beastcraft and her Masters," she's greeting a moment
after ducking in, scanning the lounge already for a particular person or two.

Cailin takes advantage of being missed by her Craftmaster to claim a bit of
nearby table for her things, and then drop into that conveniently empty
seat, -just- before trouble's accomplice(?) announces it's self with the
ominous whistle. "Beastcraft's duties to Telgar. Heya Kassi." Surprise
Learan, the tag team is here?

Learan looks up at the whistle. Such a cheery noise is a sure sign of the
arrival of trouble, and his notion is confirmed by the all too familiar
voice of chaos. "Howdy, Kassima," he says, calm on the exterior.
"Beastcraft's duties to Telgar, of course. To what do we owe the distinct
pleasure of your visit?" he asks, brows raised just so. "Here to raid my
liquor cabinet again?"

"My luck is in," Kassima observes, pleased; there's an ominous phrase for
you. "Cailin, Craftmaster Learan, g'devening t'you both. I'd hoped t'be
finding you--is this a good time? I'm here on an errand for M'rek." This
just sounds better and better. "Raid the... nay, Craftmaster, 'twasn't my
intention. This is pure business, sad t'be saying."

"But you'd not turn it down if he was offering, I expect." Cailin surmises
and then grins at them both, "An errand for M'rek? He the one wanting the
drink then?" Hey, it's a safe guess.

Learan looks dubious. "Somehow I think it may not start out that way, but
will end up with the scotch." He sets the hides aside on the small table
next to his chair. "Errand?"

Kassima slants Cailin a grin, ambling further into the room. "I'm nay
*crazy*," she reasons, "or at least nay that sort of crazy. I'm sure M'rek
would be utterly delighted with a drink. Assuming Ulfianth would let him
have it, since he said something once about the lord bronze nay favoring
drunkenness right now--but nay, that's nay the errand either; 'tis
something a bit serious, actually." She starts to unwrap the cloth bundle
as she speaks. Nestled within it is something green, and when she pulls it
out and sets it on the table, it proves to be... a green figurine of a
runnerbeast, about the size of a fist. This is serious? "This is for you,
Craftmaster. If'n you're willing t'be taking it."

Learan eyes the runnerbeast. Suspicion is replaced with wonder. Then with
confusion. "Why, praytell, is M'rek having this delivered here to me?" he
asks the greenrider, eyes not leaving the figurine.

Cailin casts Learan another grin, "Probably because it usually does come
round to that, one way or the other. You'd think it an unlimited supply."
Teasing, surely, "Lord Ulf isn't letting him drink? Shards. What a bender
this will lead to..." No doubt, "You're brining Learan a green runner?"
Well this gains two raised eyebrows.

"It might be a payback for all the scotch. If'n all goes well, the holders
of these stand t'make a tidy mark profit." Kassima's tone is droll, but she
dismisses that with a quick headshake and turns serious. "'Tisn't the real
green runner," she turns her head to promise Cailin. "A few of these have
been made, and I'm handing them out. D'you remember the conversation in the
bar?" But that won't be enlightening to Learan, so she faces him again and
explains, "There are people out looking for a certain green runner
figurine, it sounds like. Nay necessarily very pleasant sorts of people."

The corners of Learan's mouth turn downwards. "Are you asking me to hide
this item from these not very pleasant people as you call them?" he asks,
tone matching the greenrider's drollness. No one can be droll as a Herder.
Humorless folk according to some. "I think I'll pass on that honor."

"It's not the same one your wingrider won either, I'm guessing. In that bug
eating contest of theirs." Not quite a question from Cailin as she looks
back to Kassi, and then grins a little crookedly, "No. If they wanted them
hidden, they'd have been more careful about them being seen. Am I right?"

Kassima shakes her head by way of answer, and glances about for an empty
chair; finding one, she pulls it over so she can sink into it. "Just the
opposite, really. M'rek wants t'be distracting these people by sending 'em
on the wild goose chase, I believe--ideally, you'd be putting the item
somewhere that it could be seen, so word could get out that you have it.
And then someone might come who wishes t'buy the runner from you. At which
point you should go ahead and sell it, by all means. Sell it dearly, even.
There should be nay danger in it; only money, and a favor done." She
pauses. "But these people are responsible for some mischief. If'n you've
heard about the business with Vahara... exactly right, Cailin. They should
be seen quite openly."

<Herder> Learan says, "I distrust a close-mouthed man. He generally picks
the wrong time to talk and says the wrong things. Talking's something you
can't do judiciously, unless you keep in practice. Now, sir, we'll talk if
you like. I'll tell you right out, I'm a man who likes talking to a man who
likes to talk."


Q  Idle  Name            Rank          Posting  Location                      
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
     6m  Cailin          Billy Clanton MBH      MBH - Apprentice Lounge   
     0s  Kassima         John Ringo    TGW      MBH - Apprentice Lounge   
    47s  Learan          Wyatt Earp    MBH      MBH - Apprentice Lounge   
    59m  Liah            Doc Holiday   ISA      MBH - Masters' Study   
     1m  Shimshon        Ike Clanton   ISW      Hatching Galleries -- Ista 
------------------------------- ( 5 players ) ------------------------------


<Herder> Kassima grins. ;) And sees the statuses, and laughs!

<Herder> Kassima says, "What's really sad is that I saw mine, the 'Ringo'
part first, and thought, 'I'm a drummer for the Beatles?' ;)"

<Herder> Cailin laughs!

Learan raises a finger. "This sounds all very interesting, Kassima, but why
in Faranth's long line of progeny would I want to get mixed up in all this
? What's in it for me?" he demands quietly. "I'm not about to play a sap
for someone else." He eyes the figurine again. "What's so special about
this, anyway?"

Cailin bites her lip a little and then confesses in response to Kassima's
comments, "I've not told him of Vahara's problem. So if he knows it, it's
not from me." Yet another of how many things she keeps close, "How many of
these are being passed out anyway?"

"Aside from the money? I don't think there's much," Kassima confesses,
rubbing momentarily at her temple. Her tone is fairly quiet, not pitched to
carry beyond the table. "If'n you don't want t'take it, I can find someone
else. I thought of you, Cailin, if'n the Craftmaster didn't wish," she
adds, looking towards the Journeywoman. "I'd take it m'self, but 'tis
better t'have as few in one place as possible, y'ken? T'keep them busy."
She nods to the last question as if she was expecting it. The greenrider
leans back in her chair. "There've been kidnapping attempts made recently,
relatively recently, on Lady Vahara of Bitra. Aye? One of the parties
responsible was found and questioned, and claimed that they're after a
special green runner figurine they think she has. Only she doesn't have it.
Which is where you come in, Cai--she put it in storage, and it's gone
missing; you wouldn't happen t'know of any Flock members who'd likely make
off with such a thing?" After the question she gets back on track: "The
real one has something inside, methinks. This one just has pebbles. If'n
those looking for the real runner are distracted awhile, 'twill give more
time t'locate the real thing. Nay t'mention drain some marks off of them,
always a fun activity." She considers Cailin's question, and answers,
"Several--I have six, but those aren't all of 'em."

<Herder> Learan says, "Jays, Kassi!"

<Herder> Kassima says, "Oh, what? You *can't* tell me you're surprised by a
long pose from me. ;)"

<Herder> Shimshon hides at Ista.

<Herder> Cailin giggles :)

Learan snatches up the runner figurine. "No. Cailin's got enough troubles
of her own without adding people willing to kidnap over this trinket." He
turns it over slowly, carefully examining it. "I still don't get it. Why is
this thing so special people will commit desparate acts to obtain it? It
isn't even that well carved." He levels a serious look at the verbose one.
"Spill it."

Kassima shakes her head to that. "That one isn't," she explains. "'Tis
false, clay--Josilina of High Reaches made it. First time she'd worked with
clay, methinks, so cut her some slack on the well-made thing?" Wry
amusement touches her voice there. "Certes better than I could've done. The
real one--I don't think anybody knows exactly what they want it for. M'rek
at least thinks there's something inside it. But what? He doesn't know. Or
isn't telling me, if'n he does. Whatever 'tis, m'Wingmate was told nay
t'ask fewer than twenty marks for it or accept fewer than five--but the
price range shouldn't always be the same. You could ask ten. Or thirty.
They might even pay thirty."

Cailin might well have been leaning forward for either a closer look or to
take it herself, but once it's in Learan's hand she just sits back, "Who
would have raided the stores for such things? Oh shards. Who wouldn't have
picked through things given a chance. The Flock certainly harbored a few
greedy little creatures. Unlikely it would have been Elinore. Unless she
knew it to be Vahara's. Then she'd delight in snatching it from her. Kase?
Well, I don't think she'd have, but I can't rule her out of a lot of
things. Not that she can be asked now..." She lapses into silence then,
running through the others mayhap.

"Aye, methinks that's the problem. Mayhaps the nature of the gewgaw can
help? I mean... a green runner. Bit of an oddity. The color's generally
considered bad luck, for one thing." Kassima deadpans after a moment,
"Assuming one isn't a greenrider. Does anyone particularly *like* runners?
Or green, aside from Vahara herself? I'd be guessing--stress
guessing--'twould have been found, if'n 'twas Kasedy."

Learan sets the figurine on the table. "I'm still missing where I would
want to invite possible trouble to my Hall, Kassima?" he asks plainly. "If
someone's in trouble and needs my help, that's one thing." A sideways
glance towards Cailin. "But this just seems... reckless."

"Elinore's family breeds them, runners I mean. But I can't say she'd have
been fond of it for being green unless she knew it to be valuable or
Vahara's... But in the latter case, I expect she'd have gloated over the
find. There were a fair few others that liked runners though." Cailin
pauses, "Cordenia. But I can't remember if she favored the color too. Ghesa
maybe, or Kinara. They both were ones turned away by Vorlin and were known
to have filched a thing or two on departure." If she catches that glance,
she says nothing of it, but she falls quiet once again.

Kassima gives this serious consideration; her fingers take to massaging her
temple again. "You were M'rek's suggestion, Craftmaster, I imagine because
he trusts you somewhat. Doing it might be helpful t'Vahara, if'n it
distracted 'em from going after her. And... I can't represent Telgar, much
less m'sweep range, but I dislike that this sort of thing is going on
there. I'd like t'see the buggers caught and dealt with. So it could be
helpful that way--if'n you took note of whoever does the buying. Is that
reason enough?" She lifts her shoulders in a shrug. "I don't know," she
says, sounding honest. "I'm nay going t'blame you if'n you don't want to,
Craftmaster. 'Tis an offer, only that." She looks back to Cailin at the
last and nibbles on her lower lip. "Cordenia, that name's fair familiar.
Mayhaps I met her at the campout. That's names for M'rek t'work with,
anyway, even if'n they don't pan."

Learan considers this in silence for a long time, his eyes never leaving
the odd figurine of green. He steeples his fingers together, tips tapping
his lower lip. "Very well, I'll do this," he says, standing and sweeping
the runner up. "M'rek will owe me," he tells Kassima forthright. "I'll put
this away for now."

"Aye. You might have. Cordenia always said she was there to do her duty,
not that she wanted to reply to Verity's summons. If she took the runner,
then it was probably not out of spite or a hope for gain. More likely that
she just liked it and thought no one would miss." Any other suggestions she
might have had, or comments stop again as she she listens to Learan accept
and gives a light grin, "He's a good one to have indebted to you."

Slightly relieved, Kassima nods her assent. "'Twill let him know it," she
says, again not appearing particularly surprised. "I'm sure he'll be
grateful. I am, too. If'n and when anyone comes by looking for that
runner--or if'n anything suspicious happens--send word t'him or t'me, if'n
'twould, t'let us know how it went. Thankee much, Craftmaster Learan."

Learan wanders off to do Craftmaster duties.

Kassima turns her attention fully to Cailin, then, once the Craftmaster is
gone. "Did she come from a Hold... I can't remember the name, quite. Wait.
Eris-something? Erisbahn, was that it?" she wonders. "If'n the true thing's
painted clay too, I could see where she might have thought so. Interesting.
M'rek would love t'be here asking you all this himself, y'know," she adds
with a grin for her friend. "'Tis driving him nuts that the messenger needs
a messenger."

"Aye. She was a minor holder. Small holding though. She left it in her
brother's charge, but I'm afraid I never got to know her well. She fell
into the group that tried to befriend me, you see." Which at least means
something to Cailin, "He asked me if I thought Learan would let me stay
there, at least in the interim. But what would I do with my self there?
Step on Shim's toes all the time? I hardly doubt anyone needs me to be there."

"Befriend you a'fore or after 'twere known as an associate of the Lord's?"
Kassima wonders, curious. "There are times I'm bloody glad 'twasn't born
into such messes. At least Weyr politics are relatively straightforward.
Stay at Ista?" It's a new idea by Kassi. One which makes her look
thoughtful. "I can see where he'd like that, aye, but I can't answer your
question. I don't know much about the Crafter needs of any Weyr save one.
Things have been peaceful for you, though? Nay trouble?"

<Herder> Shimshon says, "Cassie's pretty. SHe can stay."

<Herder> Shimshon says, "Cailin's pretty too... Wow, my head's not here."

<Herder> Kassima laughs. :) There was a Caissie running around for a little
while. I was asking Cai when exactly we'd had a love child and why I wasn't
dead yet.

Cailin's grin slants crooked for that, "Ahh well. I don't think she knew
who was the father of the child I carried then. Not many did. Shards, some
even missed the pregnancy far longer than I expected them to. Unobservant
souls, but Kase was the worst of those." Was, "Aye. I expect things are
simpler most anywhere than Bitra." She shrugs, "It'd probably make him
happier, aye. To have his charges where he could see them rather than wait
for us to visit. Just. I've not brought that thought to Learan yet either."
Slacking lately?

<Herder> Cailin says, "Thanks Shim ;)"

<Herder> Shimshon says, "No prob ;)"

Kassima screws her features into a bemused face. "They were just trying
t'get on your good side because 'twere a Crafter at Bitra, then? Since I
get the distinct impression that you don't think 'twere actually trying
t'befriend you for you. Odd tactic. Would it really have helped?" Only a
nod for the mention of Kasedy, for the past tense. No surprise here.
"Funny, that. In a Weyr, y'know, usually the second someone looks a bit big
in the middle or misses a drill or aught else, the pregnancy rumors start.
Or so runs m'experience. Although Josilina seemed surprised... hah, I'm nay
going t'be disputing *that* point." Not hardly. She grins, briefly, and
nods to the last. "I couldn't guess what he'd think of the idea. Except for
missing your help as his aide, mayhaps he'd even take to it?"

"Perhaps. But a crafter he favored, in their eyes. A journey he let run his
stables and gave his ear more often then not? I suppose they had cause to
think I'd be of help. Some thought I would be, others claimed to just be
trying to find friends. But I steered clear of the Flock as friends
regardless. For what if I favored one that really wasn't angling and then
called the attention of those that were to the girl? No. Better I kept them
all at the same arm's length." Cai shrugs her shoulders then, "I wasn't
ever fond of being someone's pawn in their games. I'd rather be a player
than a game piece." She chuckles, "We thought it better no one notice at
first, it was going into winter, and I was able to layer well. It wasn't
until I flaunted it at that dinner of his that most the rest noticed." She
toys with her cup then, but not really taking a drink, "I'm not sure what
he'd think, in truth. I'm not sure what I think of the idea either. There
are...advantages and disadvantages of either possibility."

"Point and point. Did they fish for M'rek's favor the same way, for similar
reasons; or would his friendship and favor be less of a boon to them?" With
the business of the green runner mostly over, Kassi relaxes somewhat in her
chair, stretching her legs out under the table. "I feel sorry for those
lasses. Nay all of them. The ones who mayhaps didn't really want t'marry
him, though... didn't we speak of that once? There for their families, or
for an escape, or for whatever other reason. It can't exactly be a fun
vacation." She taps her boot-toes together idly. "Methinks I'm with you.
Most of the time--a point was raised, recently, that sometimes 'tisn't so
bad t'be a piece so long as you're serving a worthy purpose. I guess by
running M'rek's errands I'm sort of making m'self a piece of his for a
time, but I don't mind that. 'Tis of m'own will. Ah, I see...." And she
does. Her grin is drolly understanding. "Their expressions must've been a
treat for you? What's the disadvantage? Besides that you'd nay have as much
work t'do, mayhaps, from what you said."

"You know. I saw little of them doing so with M'rek. I expect they were
never as sure what to make of the man who could publicly spar with the Lord
and walk away. You might have noticed, our M'rek has a knack of managing
the inexplicable." And that amuses Cailin, but the next sobers her more,
"Bitra wasn't a place that many were prepared for. Verity did some of those
girls a disservice. Thrusting them all under His nose and into His world.
Not that he bother with those that didn't bother him, but still It was
hardly a kind place to send many of them. Not many can walk away from Bitra
untouched by it's influences." Herself included, "I suppose it's rather
impossible to always be all of one or the other. Piece or player. But aye.
I was the one that decided to play, even if the game has changed along the
way." - "Oh they were. Quite. But better still were their faces when he
called me Lady." Cailin gives a wink for that and then shrugs, "He's worked
hard to see that I'm secure here. And while I'm sure I would be either here
or there. There are certain things made easier by location."

Kassima turns this notion over in her head. "Is that an oversight, or is it
just me? I'd think winning the attention--or respect, better yet--of M'rek
would at least be a way t'get *attention*, if'n nay favor. A'course, I
don't mean going t'bed with him since Faranth only knows what that would
do. But if'n they could make M'rek take interest in them that might make
'em interesting. Ach, well, I don't know, and I truly don't think I want
to. Trying t'win a husband is never going t'be a problem for me." This is
said not wryly, but with a grin. "Mmm. Aye, even if'n the Lord didn't pay
them heed, there are the other women t'be considering. 'Tis a pity. I hope
some of them have gotten out, since... this search has run long and long.
Piece, player, spectator--" The greenrider's head tilts as she thinks.
"There's something t'be said for each. Oh, that must've been *lovely*. Hah.
Well, it can't be so much longer, can it? I'd say within two months. A
time, but nay an unbearable time. One hopes."

"Bedding him like as not would have had the opposite effect." Cailin muses
and then shrugs, "It's not like he was there day to day. Oh a few ended up
befriending him. Ones like Kase. But I expect they mostly didn't have as
much opportunity." She does drink then, before setting aside her cup,
"Trying to win a husband was never something I intended to make a problem
for me." She'll nod for the next, "Some get out. But His aunt usually would
find two more for every one that would leave. It was part of the hope that
Cain would put an end to some of that." But who's hope? "It was quite
interesting. And aye. I expect it's not horribly much longer. I suppose,
stay or go, it doesn't much matter. One protection for another."

"'Twas what 'twas thinking, aye. I suppose you never know, men are so
bloody weird, but that's the logical assumption by me." Kassima nods
acknowledgment of this point--with a grimace for the mention of Kasedy.
"Mmm. Just as well more didn't, then, for his sake. Oh, I know--'twas those
Blooded lasses I meant. They'll probably have t'win one of some stripe or
another, or be given. I'd have been expected t'marry if'n I'd stayed at
home, although 'twouldn't have been imperative. So 'twas thought the lad
might placate Verity? Did he?" She'd have to ask. "It might be nice for
M'rek t'have you there, but I'm nay sure 'twould really do much for his
restlessness. Being grounded just doesn't seem t'sit well with him 'tall."

"I'd have wished she'd have not drawn him down with her, if I could have
had a wish there. But that was inevitable, I expect. All things considered.
That she would, that he would, that things went as they did." Cailin sighs
and then shrugs, not quite casual about it, but feigning it got the
unobservant." She chuckles then, "I'm fairly sure I was never expected to
marry. I expect my craftleaders are the ones, if any, that might have
wished I had. But I never had even expected a son for myself. Or a
relationship, even if it not one most would prefer." But Cai was never like
most, "You'd have to ask Vorlin of that, if you want to know." And she
would pass the mark? "You really think it'd help him that much to just have
me there?"

"He's told me some of it," Kassi comments, watching her thumbs twirl around
each other in her lap. "Some, and his version, but I'm inclined t'agree
with you on who brought whom down. Even without knowing the woman, I'd
wager it. He'll survive it. But what a bloody mess all around." She looks
up then to make an amused face at her conversation companion. "Because of
the family aspect? Somehow I can be imagining that. I didn't think I wanted
children, either. Used t'think I didn't want a weyrmate or aught like one,
but I did change m'mind on that. Life's weird that way. And many, many,
many... *many* other ways. Ask Lord Vorlin?" More amusement. "I don't think
so. --Nay sure, truly. He's fidgety, see. You can be imagining it--he wants
t'be out, doing things, seeing people, getting stuff *done*, and nay
handing out errands t'others. Mayhaps if'n 'twere there he'd feel more that
he was accomplishing something, because he'd be protecting you; but unless
someone *did* try something for him t'thwart, I don't know if'n 'twould be
active enough t'be such a help. You could visit him again? See what he
thinks? He'd probably be glad of the visit, anyway."

Cailin nods slowly, but with little sympathy in her expression as she says,
"She is the one that set her path with her ambitions. There was a time she
was was harmless, despite them. But then she was given the real opportunity
to try and realize them." The herder cuts herself off there, "M'rek didn't
deserve what she brought on him, even if he meddled." Her smile then still
reflects humorless with the other, "I've never seen myself the mothering
type. Not like this, but I suppose I manage well enough in some situations.
I wish things could have been different for my Foster. He didn't deserve me
leaving him as I did either." She lets out a slow sigh, then nods, "Fair
enough." - "I'll visit again. hat at the least. I need to see him soon
anyway. I have...business of a sort, to sort out with him."

Kassima murmurs, "I wonder if'n ambitious people are ever entirely
harmless." A pause, and a darkly amused snort. "I wonder if'n *anyone's*
ever entirely harmless. Well. Nay, I'm nay about t'be arguing that he did.
Or that she deserved what she got. Funny how deserving doesn't enter into
the fates of people much, isn't it?" She flicks her fingers though as if to
dismiss the entire topic, at least for a moment. "I know you've mentioned
you fostered, but I can't recall whether I asked why 'twas he couldn't come
with you. Mothering's as much a learned art as aught else. Some people are
born with much talent at it, some with little, but nigh anyone can pick up
the basics if'n they try hard enough--aren't I just living proof of that?"
She agrees with the last, "'Twill have t'see him again m'self once I've at
least some of these runners delivered. I might have news, but he'll want
t'know how it went either way. You might see him first--tell him, would
you, what you told me, about those three women? Along with your other
business, which I hope is of a more pleasant nature."

"Probably not. But they are more so when they have no tools for their
trade." Cailin suggests with another of those shrugs. "Oh I suppose
harmless is depending on perspective. Kase I always thought more of a
danger to herself than others with her ambitions. But then she had to find
a way to change that. And maybe I'm to harsh to think she did. But she
should have been smarter than that. She should have known to play with fire
is to risk getting burned." Or worse? "I've not found sympathy for her yet.
Not considering what she almost took from me." Well. No one ever said Cai
was the forgiving sort, "He decided to stay behind. He wanted to keep his
choice of profession. And I rather expect his options were better there,
then else where. Even in the same field. I gave him the best that I could.
Left him my runner. Set him up as the sole jockey of Vorlin's best
runner..." And probably more than that, "Just not sure if it will ever make
up for my leaving him." She's quiet a bit then before she goes on, "Aye.
I'll tell him what I remember of them when I get the chance. I'm waiting on
another to meet me there when I do speak to him, of course. Pleasant
though? Well, it'll give him something to do. And it's something I suppose
I need to get done."

"True... say the ambitious and the ruthless are never completely harmless,
then? For that sort, every man and woman they met could be a tool. 'Twould
think. For what 'tis worth, the woman sounds like a bloody fool t'me, and
that's given M'rek's self-blaming version of events." Kassima's left brow
arches. "D'you think she came so close as that? Oh... aye. Aye, that's
right, methinks you did mention that he rides runners. D'you still see him?
Does he come here t'see you?" Gently asked; it would be easy enough to turn
the question away. "Another t'meet you? Something t'do is good. Getting the
unpleasant over with, also good."

"She had little wisdom in choosing her tools." Cailin replies. "She thought
me one, then came to me after ignoring me for well past a turn. Demanding
to know why I never told her I was sharing His bed, and had I betrayed her?
She betrayed herself, I wouldn't have needed to if I wanted to." She
wrinkles her nose then nods, "M'rek's only blame was in trying to free her,
I expect. But she was past saving." She snorts softly, "With Vorlin? Bitra?
Never. But with what she did to my protector? That I will not forgive her
memory for." The next gets a non committal reply on how much, just, "We
have some contact. But I don't exactly go to Bitra these days. Even if
maybe I could." - "I wouldn't say the last is true. I'm expecting it'll be
more like saddling myself with more unpleasant, but I at least get say in
the form... Allowing for M'rek's approval of course."

This time, the face Kassi makes is of disbelieving disturbance. "One of
those," she supposes, "for whom everything is about them-them-them, and
they can't conceive of anyone doing a thing for a reason other than *them*?
It might explain things." A pause. "The question of what the blame is might
depend on whom you asked, I'm suspecting. Mayhaps it barely even matters.
He needs t'learn whatever it teaches him and try and move on, and nay
brood, and he seems t'be doing better at that than at first if'n naught
else." A simple nod, then. She apparently understands this unforgiving
sentiment. "Nay surprising; 'tis why I asked if'n he came here. Well, it
happens. How do things fare with his career? I'm sorry t'hear that... I
don't want t'be prying, but I'm being chewed on by curiosity now, you
realize."

"Aye. That describes how she was well." Cailin agrees and then shakes her
head, "M'rek thinks it to be him, but I know that if she hadn't made this
mistake then, that she'd have made another. She thought herself best of
all. And I do mean all. And yet, she was transparent. I saw through her not
long after her arrival, and that's when she tried to sway me. All I agreed
to was not giving her secret away to Vorlin. He didn't need me to tell it
to him anyway." He wouldn't. "He's not broken beyond repair. M'rek will
recover, mayhap a bit different than before, but he's already mending." She
might have said more, but it's that ever touchy subject and so she moves
along, "He's doing well enough I expect. Would that I could watch him race
myself, but mayhap someday again." And the last gets a fair bit of
consideration before her voice drops farther, though just soft, not a
whisper. "The Masterharper is helping me find Cain a nanny."

"'Tis what I told another," says Kassima. "You can't protect fools from
their folly. Nay t'say that he's blameless; I don't know that. Nay t'say
you can't try t'prevent something like this from happening, or try t'use a
fool, come to that. But there are people... something's going t'get them.
With or without your help. By every sound of it, she was one, and mayhaps
in more than one way." She nods vehement agreement with the next: "He is
already, aye--did you see him just after? He's so much better now. I hope
he really is better and nay just putting on a show, but methinks he is, at
least a trace. It just takes time... I should think someday again." The
rider gives the Herder a speculative, suddenly amused look. "Have you ever
considered," she wonders, "attending a race or two in disguise?" Speaking
of discretion. She sits up and leans in a little to better listen. "A
nanny," she repeats with soft surprise. "A nanny?"

"Aye. She was one of those. I nearly did her in before she ever got this
far. Daring to challenge me in my own element. And there she made her
mistake with me. Gave away her falsehood for what it was." Cai gives a
crooked smile for what ever reason and then pauses, "He never told me what
happened. I had to get it from Sria when she brought me home after the
Susu. He kept coming by with others in his presence. I knew there was
something, but he didn't have to tell me if there were others there. I
pushed him a bit when we talked after, and I expect it'll be sooner rather
than later." The suggestion gains an arched brow, "Learan'd kill me you
know." But she grinning then again too. So maybe she doesn't really mean
that, or something similar. Then frankly, simply. "Aye, a nanny." Yet she
watches the rider more carefully now.

There's silence from Kassima for a time. "I'm curious too," she says, at
length, "as to the story here. Her secret, her falsehood, all of that. I
want t'be asking. But mayhaps I shouldn't?" As to the other--she's quiet
for that too. "Odd that he wouldn't. For what 'tis worth, he was, methinks,
very, very drunk when he told me. I imagine you can be getting at least
some of the tale out of him, and mayhaps talking about it will be good--it
sounds as if'n you know her, so you can offer a particular perspective. Oh,
why?" she asks, rather more lightly than the rest and with a grin to match.
"Just wait until M'rek can take you again, and make the disguise
convincing. Shells, mayhaps you could even convince the Craftmaster t'go
with you? You've said he doesn't like racing, but I recall him betting on
that *one*...." She leaves this to trail off in favor of more thought.
"Well. Faranth knows I needed the equivalent once mine were his age. I do
imagine work keeps you busy." She raises a brow. "And that there might be
certain things the right sort of nanny could be useful for?"

<Herder> Learan says, "Okay you two. Don't bring down the house ;)"

<Herder> Kassima says, "Awww, Learan, would we do that? When the house
still has liquor in it? ;)"

"I told her not to bother a new mother and foal. And she dared to attempt
to anyway. Let's just say in the exchange that followed she let drop her
uncultured act long before she supposably took Harper lessons to learn to
speak like a lady. And we she did, I countered. Not so hard t'speak one way
and then shift t'speaking another all the time." Her own accent shifting
then for a moment, "She decided we were kindred spirits. Only thing was, it
was never an ambition of mine to rule Pern or see her do so." Cai shrugs,
"Maybe he didn't know what I knew of her. Maybe he wanted to hold to his
belief he did this. Or maybe he didn't want me to think he was compromised
in taking care of me." She shakes her head then, "Well mayhap. M'rek will
be free by then after all." The last is what earns a faint smile then,
confirmation, "He'll need the right sort, as do I. I'll have to get used to
the idea, like it or not."

This surprises Kassima; she had not, evidently, guessed it about Kasedy,
and a slow grin curves her mouth. "It might be argued that some of us have
found proper speech more difficult than others," she says, for a moment
losing most if not all of her characteristic lilt; the words are crisp, a
little flat. "A'course, it might also be argued that some of us think that
anyone who wouldn't listen t'what we have t'say because we say it with an
accent isn't worth speaking to. Was she trying t'intrigue the Lord by
coming across as uncultured, then? Rule *Pern*." She'll just let a snort
serve as her comment on that, shall she? "Mayhaps. Mayhaps he worried that
knowing too much would put you in danger, too. He did tell me there were
things he wouldn't tell me for safety's sake. I haven't the slightest." The
greenrider nods slowly, taking this in. "M'rek can't be there constantly. I
haven't heard that you've been in direct danger of late, but look what's
been going on with Vahara just for once owning a figurine... Roddy probably
would have some idea of what you'd need. And then M'rek t'confirm that it
suits. Aye, that makes sense."

Cailin gives a smile for the change and then nods, "I found it easier
t'speak as the herders at home, rather than the way my parents always
raised me to. Call it part of my defiance. But there are times to let that
pass, and I admit I drift between the two once more." She shrugs that off
for the other, "She figured that people would underestimate her if they
thought her uncultured. And it worked for some. But Vorlin? She exposed
that part of herself to him early on as well. Hoping he'd see her ploy
clever. But she always planned to carry it through, with or with out him.
Her mistake was she saw Vorlin a pawn from the start." Bad move, that.
"Mayhap he did. I just wish he'd have come to me, but I'm sure he had his
reasons not to. I've just had to hope he was letting someone be there for
him though the worst of it." Cai's silent again then, and then shrugs, "I'm
like as not as good as forgotten by many now. I expect Vorlin has done what
he can to make that so, as have others. Why draw excess attention to Cain
and I any more? We've been publicly out of it all nearly two turns now."

"I know 'proper' diction, well enough, and I've a decent vocabulary;
m'grandsire and uncle saw to that. Both Harpers." Kassima crosses one leg
over the other. "But nigh all m'kin at Da's Holding speak this way
t'varying degrees, the dialect and the lilt. I like it. 'Tis part of who I
am. M'children have it, too, a bit--Simaeva's kin too, and she's the other
who's raised 'em, in most cases--although their children probably won't."
Another of those soft snorts. "I admit that she didn't strike me as a grand
power in the scheme of things. Less because she spoke with an accent than
because she'd go t'all that trouble t'try and be dropping it, t'be
impressing a man. Seeing Lord Vorlin as a playing piece seems a rather dire
error. That one's nay apt t'be a piece on anyone's board. And I can say
that without even knowing the man, just from all I've heard from you, from
M'rek, from everyone. I think he was--" Back to M'rek now. "Somewhat;
although he wasn't talking t'Rodric for awhile there, and that worried me.
Well. I doubt you'll ever be entirely forgotten, Cailin; your lad certes
nay, which I don't think," she says with a grimace, "you need me t'be
telling you. I'd guess there'll always be value in precaution for him."

"She never stood a chance next to him, and only she couldn't see that. This
is why I would say what happened inevitable. She underestimated those she
toyed with. And she underestimated her own skills. Mostly she was a danger
to herself, but she moved past that, it would seem." Cailin drinks from her
cup, swallowing down the juice like some might wine, "Rodric did seem
concerned about him, but he didn't lend me much information in the way of
why. Or I'd have been on M'rek's doorstep sooner." She lets out a slow
breath, "Sometimes I'm not sure which is better. To be forgotten or
remembered."

Perouze comes in from the hallway.

"You can play with fire, if'n you're really determined, and survive
it--even profit by it. But you have t'know that *'tis* what you're doing,
methinks. M'rek does all the time and survives. Nay always unharmed, but
survives. Mayhaps because he's fully aware of the danger and makes the
choice knowingly." Kassima is seated at a table with Cailin, an abandoned
piece of brightly-painted cloth nearby; she would seem entirely focused on
their quiet conversation. "Rodric would know. Thick as thieves, those two.
I don't suppose--I *didn't* come for Learan's scotch, but is there any more
of that juice?" she asks, almost apologetic. Then, "Mayhaps that depends on
who's being discussed. I doubt you've been forgotten by the one I'd think
you wish t'be remembered by. He strikes me from the stories as one with
long memory."

"Aye, M'rek gets singed, mayhap even burned, but he heals to dance with
them another day." Cailin will agree, adding more, "And I've felt the heat
but not the flames. Not everyone is so lucky though. He manages because he
does know what the risks are better than anyone can. I do because I have my
own precautions in place. But she tried to think she had more immunity than
she could possibly hold." She'll nod then, "Rodric would know, but Rodric
would be careful just the same. Close to him isn't the same as close to
me." She'll chuckle then, "Aye. There is always more of this juice. Though
I confess it's through a back up delivery system. Lord Ulf's clutch does so
hinder the process. I'll get someone to fetch it and a cup, shall I?" She
calls over an apprentice, pausing in the conversation long enough to
promise the lad a eighth if he's quick about it. As she turns back it's
with a fond smile, "Aye. I don't think he'd forget us so easy as all that.
Not soon, if ever. No matter what comes between the past and future."

Talking of apprentices, there's another one making her way into the lounge,
in clean clothes for once and with her hair neatly tied back into its usual
runner-tail. Heat and flames? Perouze catches snippets of the conversation
because she's making her way over towards her mentor, although she
hesitates as she hears Cailin in such deep conversation with a stranger,
and eventually hovers a few feet away, looking at her boots.

Kassima toys thoughtfully with a corner of the cloth. "Burned wouldn't
surprise me. He'll dance with 'em always, regardless--that's nay a man cut
out for a cautious life. That's a man who'd be bored enough he'd decide to
*eat bugs*, for Faranth's sake," and her eyes glimmer with humor for that.
"Aye, and y'see, 'tis what 'twas thinking. She was probably doomed. It
sounded it. And Rodric--well, even if'n Roddy were close t'you, he might
still be cautious. He can be a cautious man. An asset, in his profession."
There's a fondness to the sentiment; it might be slightly wry, but it's not
really criticism. On to other subjects. "Oh, 'tis *that* juice--shells, I
have t'be trying it now. Thankee most kindly." The Apprentice gets a
flashed smile from her too. "I'd stake on never. Whether 'twill be
remembered for the reasons you'd want... but 'twill hope so, for you. I
still want t'see a happy end in this story for you, Cailin." A glance from
the corner of her eye catches on this new arrival, and she nods in polite,
friendly enough fashion to the young woman.

"Aye. and what says that of you that you'd join him in the snack? Just that
competitive?" Cailin will tease the rider, but then nod. "Aye, that's out
M'rek for you. He can't walk away from the dance, regardless of the risk."
She nods, "I don't expect other than cation from him. Being who I am now at
any rate. Maybe it'd be different if I were different. If things were
different, but they are what they are." And she hardly seems to concerned
about that, for rather she smiles again. "Aye. It's *that* juice. And the
story will end as it will end. Cain and I will survive regardless.
Fortitude." Something like the faint sound of a rally call in that one
word. "Evening Perouze."

Perouze blushes a bit. "Did I...uh...am I interrupting?" She finally does
manage to look up from her boots and then to move to sit near Cailin,
although she doesn't really settle, she kinda perches on the edge of the
chair, as if not quite sure she's welcome in the conversation. "And which
juice?" Obviously there's something special about it, from the stranger's
tone. Pero's eyes flick to Kassima's knot, then down into her lap.

Kassima doesn't deny it; chuckles low under her breath instead. "Just that
competitive. The chance t'go down in history by eating more bugs than a
bronzerider? How *could* I refuse? I did eat more than him, too, in the
end." Always looking on the bright side. She chews this over a moment, but
shakes her head again. "Methinks he'd be cautious about some subjects
regardless--probably. Around you, though, aye, especially so. Just the way.
Methinks you will, Cailin. You're a survivor. 'Tis written all over you."
Green eyes turn back onto the Apprentice. "She'll have t'answer which
juice," she says cheerfully, "since I don't even know which fruit 'tis,
rightly; 'twill be the first time I've had any. I doubt you're
interrupting. We concluded business awhile ago, Cai, aye?"

"Aye. Business is concluded and now we mostly rehash things past." Cailin
takes that last and turns it around for her acceptance of the apprentice,
"Imported by a friend who can." She'll say of the juice. "And that
competitive doesn't surprise me, Kassi. Have you met apprentice Perouze?
Perouze, Kassima of Telgar Weyr." She nods then to the next, "He might well
be anyway. Hard to not understand. I've been dealing with cautious subjects
and people for a time now. And aye. A survivor."

Perouze doesn't get an answer. Which means she'll just have to /try/ said
infamous juice. A smile is offered faintly as the girl finally looks up.
"Duty to you and your dragon," she murmurs in a somewhat abbreviated
manner. Apparently, Perouze's ability to get over her shyness extends only
to those she spends time with regularly, because she's definitely back down
there, as it were, with this woman.

"Doesn't surprise you?" Kassima wonders with wide, wide eyes. "You mean
'tis *obvious*? Goodness me. I didn't realize. Well met, Apprentice," she
adds amiably to Perouze, bobbing her head. "Kassima, green Lysseth's, as
she says. Or Kassi's fine. Thanks kindly. Are people at the Hall as
cautious?" The question is directed to Cailin, but her eyes flick towards
Perouze with curiosity too.

"I've seen some of the ways you've won marks, as you recall." Cailin will
tease the greenrider. Then another of those hapless shrugs, "I probably
corner the market on cautious. Though you saw how the Craftmaster was over
that green runner statue. So perhaps I'm not the only one that would be
that way. He's got his reasons though, just as I have." No doubt.

Perouze smiles, finally, "I think I need directions to this conversation.
Just slightly lost here." She sounds a little amused, though, although she
also still seems a little uncomfortable with the stranger. "Green runner?
Runners don't come in green..."

Kassima argues, "The begging hardly counts as *competitive*, really, just
shameless--" And her grin, too, is shameless. "Mayhaps. Mayhaps. He's
cautious on behalf of his Crafters, methinks. Even M'rek might--*might*--be
cautious on someone else's behalf now and then." Ah, but the green runner:
she explains that after a quick headshake. "'Tisn't a real runner,
a'course, just a little statuette. A runnerbeast, in green. Someone gave it
to the Craftmaster as a gift today. Odd little piece; I wonder what he'll
do with it."

A map probably would be helpful, or a key code, but so it goes, "Hmm, it
takes a certain degree of competitive to do something like that, I expect.
Or maybe shameless. Could be either." The Journeywoman quips. "Aye. He'll
be so for his Craft, as M'rek will for his charges." Cailin agrees and then
grins, "Mayhap he'll stick it on his desk. Regardless. I doubt he'll place
it anywhere near me, considering." She shrugs again for that. Yet another
accepted fact.

Perouze nods. "Just seems funny to paint a runner statue in colors runners
don't come in. Maybe it's somebody's idea of a prank?" Or, of course, they
could think it's art, but Pero, ever-practical. "I guess I'm not an artist,
though, maybe I just don't get these things." See. She's starting to
realize Kassi isn't going to bite. She even looks at the greenrider. Sort of.

"Artists have odd senses of aesthetic sometimes," Kassi confirms, running a
hand back over the top of her head. "You should meet a lady at High Reaches
who paints--Josilina, her name is; she wears the most bright clothing
you've ever seen and hates the colors orange and grey. Just for one
example. I can't complain about anybody deciding green's a good color,
considering." Her teeth show briefly as she flashes a grin. "Or
opportunism?" she offers, laughing, to Cailin. "Mayhaps all of those. I'd
do it again, anyway, given the prize."

"Who can say why it was done. But a fine gift for a Craftmaster I suppose.
A unique runner." Cailin seems amused at the thought regardless, "I've
heard that about her. I've only met her the once. At that dinner I
mentioned at Bitra. You remember the one, Kassi." She pauses to watch the
apprentice returning from the pond entrance with a skin carried, "Her
sister I see more of. And aye, for that prize, I might have too."

Perouze hrms. "Well, I can sort of see not liking orange, but grey? Grey's
such an...inoffensive color." Pero furrows her brow. "I kind of like...I
don't know. I like things to be the /right/ color. Dragons are green,
runners are not." She grins a little bit at the greenrider.

"Unique," Kassi agrees, with a nod for Cailin. "He might've liked a ferret
better, from his reputation, but ah, well. Once only? Ah--that'd be a
memorable meeting, I should imagine." There's something a bit deadpan in
how she says this, before her attention is caught by that skin the
Apprentice carries. "Ooh. Sister being Sria? I didn't know until recently
that they had others, or at least another. I gather 'tis because grey's so
bland," for Perouze. "She didn't seem t'like it at all that some of
Lhiannonth's eggs were that color. I can see your point, but the odd color
does if'n naught else make it a memorable trinket."

Cailin chuckles, "Ahh well. I don't really mind it . It's sort of like how
not everything is as you expect it to be. Not everything is always as it
should be. But aye, a ferret he might have liked better. Or some
replacements for all that scotch." she looks thoughtful, "You don't know of
anyone that might have lifted some of that, by the by?" She'll nods then,
"Sria, yes. She stops by now and again. My sisters prompting I'm sure.
Though mayhap another's. Still, she's welcome either way. I would say them
both memorable though. But not as much so as the evening it's self was."

Perouze blinks. "Somebody lifted some of the Craftmaster's scotch? They're
in trouble," she predicts, quietly, thoughtfully. She has so far avoided
Learan's wrath, but. "He likes ferrets? I need to read up on them. Funny
little critters."

"We've done him a bit out of some of it, I suppose," Kassi has to admit,
laughing quietly. "If'n he'd tell us *how* t'replace it, we might nay have
to so oft--I hope he knows that we, because 'twould certes assume M'rek
does, appreciate the honor of his sharing it with us. Lifted it... isn't
the cabinet kept locked?" Surprise brings her voice up a note. "M'rek's
prompting? Might be. She's a good-seeming sort, inasmuch as I know her. He
does like ferrets, doesn't he, Cai?"

"Aye. The cabinet is kept locked, and there are only a pair of keys that I
know of. So if it was lifted, then there's a lock pick about. Unless he's
not been keeping track of how much has been dolled out. I've certainly not
counted as he might have. I just get out or put away what he tells me to."
In whatever condition of empty the bottles might be in? "Aye. He likes
Ferrets. As his namesake did." She nods then, "She's a good sort. I'll
forever be thankful of her sensibilities."

Perouze nods. "I haven't really got around to looking at ferrets yet.
THey...well...look kind of like furry tunnelsnakes, don't they." Maybe
somebody has been /avoiding/ the ferrets, just maybe, just a little bit. "I
think I prefer animals with actual legs."

Kassima sets her thumbnail between her teeth, thinking. "I haven't a clue
who hereabouts might have a pick. I could imagine M'rek doing it, somehow,
but he's obviously out--mayhaps 'twill have t'tell him that being on the
Sands has, if'n naught else, saved him from being suspected of
scotch-theft. Thankful of her sensibilities?" There's a low laugh. "They
have legs! Just small ones. M'son kept a ferret, once, that was sent t'me
as a gift. She wasn't so bad."

<Herder> Perouze grins. Well, they have paws anyway ;-).

"You'll get to them in time. Everyone gets to spend some time at least with
the ferrets." Cai replies, "And I wouldn't call then such around the ferret
enthusiasts." She nods, "Didn't figure it could have been either of you at
any rate. But I said I'd double check. He's worried it was an apprentice. I
think he was actually hoping it might have been one of you two, or me on
your behalf." For those doubting who else has a key? She pours her juice
then, topping off her own cup before handing what's left of the skin to
Kassima. Seems it was brought without a cup. "Aye. She was very considerate
that night, despite it all. And then there was the matter of telling me at
last what everyone assumed I already knew."

Perouze hrms. "Well, yeah. They have paws." She grins a bit. "I don't know.
They're just a strange shape for a furred creature." She shakes her head.
"Eh. You said everyone has /one/ species they don't like as much." And Pero
might have found it, judging by the furred tunnelsnake comment.

"Sorry t'disappoint him, but even if'n 'twere of a mind t'pick the lock,
I'm nay really very good at that yet." Yet? Kassima pulls a rueful face.
"I'd be tempted t'keep an eye out for anyone who looks too blissful, given
the quality of that scotch. Oh, thankee!" She accepts the skin, opens it,
and carefully takes a mouthful. Her features relax into an expression of
appreciation. "*Good*," she says. "Very good. It does sound as if'n she's
done you a service or two. I'm going t'try and see her for M'rek, too;
d'you want me t'pass on greetings?" She flicks a glance towards the Pond.
"I'truth, I should probably get going soon... though more back to the Weyr
than to High Reaches, this eve. D'you want--?" She offers back the skin of
juice, not without some regret. "I suppose 'tis true. There are some, they
say, who don't much care for chickens." Innocent? Her?

"Did I?" Cai replies? "I thought I'd have said most everyone has one they
prefer." But she doesn't really argue the point, "Ferrets are alright
though. Just not runners." A brow arched for yet, but no farther comment.
"Well, no drunken apprentices yet. Mayhap just a miscount. But aye. Liquor
of that quality tends not to stay secret." She grins again, "It is, isn't
it? You can have the rest of that if you like. I've other skins." A simple
nod to mark the next. "She has, and you may certainly do so." She'll snort
softly for the last, "Sharding chickens."

"I owe you an adoring limerick," Kassima announces to Cailin, hugging the
'skin and grinning. She picks the cloth up to wrap it in--against the chill
of *between*, maybe--and rises to her feet. "Thankee so much. 'Twill do. A
pleasure talking with you, as always, and a pleasure meeting you, too,
Perouze. I hope you get used to the ferrets."

Perouze giggles a bit. Of course, she already knew of Cailin's aversion.
"Chickens are kind of pretty, but they aren't affectionate like canines
are. Or even runners, for that matter...and...take care, Kassima." She
grins just a little bit, and then looks down again, as if remembering to be
shy. She seems to flicker from outgoing to reserved like that a lot.

Cailin chuckles, "Your most welcome, Kassima. I don't mind at all. Limerick
or no." Maybe no is safer? "Always a pleasure indeed and clear skies to you
and Lysseth."

"Take care," Kassi echoes with a smile and a wiggle of her fingers, which
she directs to Cailin too before heading out. And as she goes, she begins
to recite, "There once was a Herder named Cailin, with whom the chickens'
charms were failin'...."

You blink as you emerge from the lounge.