The following is a log of roleplay on Star Stones MOO, logged by D'ney.
All references to the world and characters of Pern™ based on Anne McCaffrey's fiction
are copyright© 1967 by Anne McCaffrey, all rights reserved. The Dragonriders of Pern® is
registered U.S. Patent and Trademark Office, by Anne McCaffrey and used here with
permission.
Weyrling Barracks
When not in use, the barracks has an almost barren look to it. Plain in decor
and fairly spacious, the area often seems almost crowded when there are
Weyrlings despite the capaciousness the barracks offers. Dragon couches, set
a uniform length apart, are orbited by cots and presses for the non-winged
half of the pairs. The pool that has been set aside for the sole use of the
Weyrlings is to the south and the Weyrlings' Grounds is northwest.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Spitter, Wan-Hyo, Culpa, Cocoa, and Aerieki.
You see Igen Weyrling Chart and Thanks SearchCo! here.
Halis, K'rah, and Betha are here.
The following dragons are here: Jaath, Nhaeth, and Olexath
From here you can go:
Pool
WeyrlingMaster's
Office Weyrling
Grounds
Halis is idily milling about with Olexath, oiling the blue's bulk of a hide.
She hasn't spotted anyone else just yet so no salutes issue from her
direction she's so focused on oiling the itchy spots.
Halis
Warm deep klah colored eyes look out from a rather delicate face. Freckles
happily dance across a small alluring nose, barely there pale pink lips
sitting just below. Golden hair stands in odd little spikes and twists all
across Halis' head, exposing her small elfin ears. If they had pixies on
Pern, she'd be one of them. Highlights are noticeable here and there, almost
platinum streaks compared to the rest of her hair. The hair is closely cut
in the back and left a little longer near the front so she can spike it.
Every so often the few highlights still noticeable catch a ray of sun and
sparkle slightly in the light. She is well toned and long limbed but still
has a few curves here and there. Simple movements cause muscle to move and
flex under her smooth skin, and though shy one would never know it by the
simple way she carries herself.
Golden-yellow linen tunic drapes from Halis' shoulders, belted with a simple
black wherhide belt. Black linen trousers tuck into sturdy boots of polished
wher-hide. Though rather plain Halis seems to wear the garment easily enough.
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single, simple look, wrapped
with a blue sisal ribbon, to denote her rank as Igen Weyr Junior Weyrling,
rider of Olexath.
She is awake, but has been staring off into space for a minute.
Carrying:
Halis' Wingleader Manual
K'rah strides in with her usual purposeful intent. She's expecting everyone
to snap to attention, and if they didn't see her coming well, that's alright
she'll warn 'em. "Lesson Time!" She calls loudly enough to be heard in all
corners of the barracks. "Lets go!"
D'ney is oiling straps -- or Nhaeth -- it isn't clear which: as much oil is
going on one as on the other. The warning of a lessons brings her to her
feet in knee-knocking rapidity, and a salute goes out to the approaching
figure. Nhaeth attempts one too, lifting his paw awkwardly, then putting it
down again in apologetic fashion.
D'ney
Short, slightly gaunt around the edges, this adolescent bears Igen's glare in
the burnt brownness of her skin. Uncertain growth has worked away the
childish plumpness from the avid angles of nose and chin, further accenting
pinched features with their harsh planes and abrupt peaks. Below forehead's
darkness, a primal acidity informs her hazel eyes, restrained by stubborn
mahogany curls -- but flaring inevitably into the compact rebellion of a
muscled shape and habitually agile motion.
A golden-yellow linen tunic drapes from her shoulders, straggling under a
thick jet belt at the waist and falling nearly to her hips. The trousers of
black linen are similarly buckled in to keep the outfit snug against the
hazards of adolescent frolic, its hems disppearing into a pair of
extra-polished wherhide boots.
Double cords of maize and jet intertwine in a single, simple loop, wrapped
with a brown sisal ribbon, to denote her rank as an Igen Weyr Junior
Weyrling, rider of Nhaeth.
She is awake and looks alert.
Carrying:
Rip
Inky dollops of dusty rose salmon coalesce the creases of his vast expanse of
seasoned black cherry hide, cluttering into gangly extremities seeped in
sepia before vanishing beneath a facade of dusky darkness. Sleek sheets of
lengthy mocha-washed wings drizzled with an ethereal edge of frosty pink
coral veins engulf him, cluttering the smooth, rounded ridges that bud from
his elongated neck and rosewood headknobs, leaving only a whim of the large,
expressive eyes that light his nervous triangular head. Hints of deep well
metallicy limn his soot-smudged physique, creating golden glimpses that
overshadow the disproportions and discrepancies and glitter the lengthy
starscape frame from rich hazelnut tail to clever ebon talons with heroic
motes of succulent, suffering incandescence.
Nhaeth is 10 Months and 7 Days old.
Betha comes walking in a moment later after K'rah. At the moment she's
dressed in a loosely fit robe that drapes just low enough to hide certain
parts of her body. Hair is up in a well it looks like she's ready for
/action/. Wink wink. Nudge nudge. "I'm hear for that mating lesson you're
going to teach. How do you want to start this off K'rah?"
Halis stands up nearly as quickly as D'ney and salutes rather quickly.
Hearing Betha she salutes her as well and then blinks a bit at the rider's
attire and comments, "The what?" Chart is eyed and 'ling blings again ..
gotta be a different one.
Lime dozes off...
Mating lesson. A cot down, a head that belongs to another brown weyrling bobs
up in surprised response. "Did anyone say mating lesson?" he queries
innocently, swivelling to grin at the carefully-expressionless D'ney. Oh,
and he didn't forget the salute; hand raises absently.
K'rah crisply returns the salute and smiles. At least they have this much
down. Her attention is then caught by Betha, who doesn't even have the
excuse of a proddy green. "No, today is formations...." So sorry to
disappoint. "We'll not be doing mating for a while yet." She sighs and looks
to the weyrlings. "Alright, you've all read the manual right, so someone
start off by naming and describing a formation."
Once, twice, thrice Betha blinks, stomps over to the chart...Fingers jabbing
at it then moving along. Head is cocked back and without a word rider pads
out. Mumbing something about killing a certain blue dragon when she gets
outside. And all she says after that is, "Be right back." Oh, and she
returns the salute of any 'lings that saluted when she comes in too. Stomp,
grouse, stomp. *slam*
Betha walks toward Weyrling Grounds.
G'red's grin is annoying to D'ney, who shifts her weight to her other leg,
cushioning an arm on Nhaeth's hefty build while she tweaks on the tangle of
flight straps. "I know one," she volunteers, neglecting to raise her hand.
"The one that
(Satler) Remorth looking somewhat smug about something quickly dives to the
ground making the sleeping dragon as soon as he figures out his rider is
coming out. ZzzzzZZZzzzzZZZzzzzZZZZzzzzzzZZzzzzz.
's a straight line." The simplest? Perhaps.
Halis hides a giggle with a cough and and answers since she's had the basic
formation's class already. She'll use the same one she did then, "There's
the V and the inverted V formations. Wingleader in the middle, the rest of
them fanning out in decending order by color." She wrinkles her nose a bit
at Olexath as he shoves his tail in her face. << It itches! >>
(Satler) Betha walks right up to Remorth and just starts shacking a fingure at
him. Lips don't move, must be one of those silent sort of things. Remorth
unlids an eye and regards Betha for a moment then rumbles almost comicly.
"Not funny!" Betha finally says.
K'rah nods, "Good Halis, and that's right D'ney. Now in the Line formation
that you described what order do the dragons fly in?"
(Satler) Betha clambers up limb and straps, finally settling on Remorth's neck.
(Satler) Remorth lets his wings caress the air moving his bulk toward Sky
Above Weyrling Grounds.
(Satler) From Sky Above Weyrling Grounds, Remorth lets his wings caress the
air moving his bulk toward Sky High Above Southeast Bowl.
That's the difficult part. D'ney's the type who studies in the dark, when no
one's looking. Scrunching up her face, the weyrling hesitates, then blurts;
"Wingleader first?" Seems the sensible thing to do, after all. "Then the
rest of them, from bronze to green." With D'aad in the middle.
(Satler) From Sky Above Weyrling Grounds, Remorth has arrived.
(Satler) Remorth has arrived.
(Satler) Remorth offers a leg down for Betha, who slips off and dismounts.
(Satler) Betha walks toward Weyrling Barracks.
Betha walks in from Weyrling Grounds.
K'rah smiles and nods, "Good, you've got it, and just keep in mind that unless
the formation is inverted, the wing always flies in that order. Make sense?"
She looks around the room, making sure there aren't any questions, and then
asks, "So, who wants to explain the Row Formation?"
A boot shoved sideways ensures G'red's silence -- for a while. That is, until
he decides to be contrary and speak up, his dragon crooning softly behind.
"Uh. The row formation means the dragons line up in a row, right?" He's
excitable, this boy. Fingers wave in front of him, clasp. "In terms of...
colours?" Oops.
Halis can but doesn't really /want/ to. She peers about, wondering if anyone
else is gunna answer the question. Hearing G'red's partial answer she pipes
in with her own, "There's the one with three rows. Wingleader in the middle
one, second on his .. right and then the next largest bronze on the left.
Then the rows go back from them in terms of colors. Bronze, brown, blue,
green." She's on a roll today it seems ...
Betha quietly walks in, as to not disturbe the lessons being taught. She'll
just hide behind some weyrling for the moment, letting the poor sod shake in
his/her boots.
K'rah nods approvingly, "Right Halis, that's good. You've done your reading,
I'm impressed." She then looks to G'red with an encoraging expression. "Keep
going, where do the colors go?" The bluerider starts pacing acround the room
as she speaks, taking a good close look at each dragon and weyrling pair.
D'ney scrutinises in her turn, from G'red to Halis to the weyrlingmasters.
She feigns a leisurely stretch, leaning forward a little, from thence to
throw Halis a covert thumbs-up. Reading certainly isn't her forte. And
G'red? He parrots, "Bronze, brown, blue, green, after the Wingleader and
Wingsecond." Like Halis said.
K'rah shakes her head, "In the Row formation the Wingleader is in the center,
with the wingsecond on his or her right and then the colors fan out on either
side. Make sense?"
Halis oils Olexath's tail since he refuses to remove it from her face. She's
still paying attention of course, a small little happy smile on her face at
the praise. Though it isn't so much that she's read, it's that she's already
been over this, a review for her and whatnot.
G'red nods, and keeps at it. D'ney looks disinterestedly at his lifemate.
Huh.
K'rah nods approvingly, "Ok then, one last thing before we try these things
outside. Can someone explain what it means to tighten or loosen a formation,
and why it's done?"
Halis knows. While oiling the tail she ventures an answer, "Well to tighten
wouldn't it be to get closer together? And loosen would be the opposite?"
As for why it's done ... she's at a loss.
D'ney leaves off the propping, moving to Nhaeth's other side instead. All the
better to glare at G'red with-- "Moving closer together?" she guesses without
much thought as the next question passes her by. "How far would they move?"
is tacked on as Halis, clever Halis, confirms her careless reply.
K'rah nods, "Right, tightening the formation is moving closer together, and
loosening is moving it farther apart. Formations should always be
symmetrical, so picture the distance between each dragon increasing or
decreasing as requested by the wingleader. Formations are altered like this
during threadfall, depending on how heavily the thread is falling. If it's
more dense, we fly closer, if it's lighter we fly farther apart. Everyone
understand?"
Halis does indeed understand now that someone's told her. Olexath's finally
oiled enough and is looking forward to playing formations again ... yes
that's how he sees it. Halis has been trying to get him to see it as
preparing for something that saves several things...including his own hide
one day.
D'ney mutters, half to herself, "'Long as we kill the Thread," but goes on to
nod at K'rah nevertheless, mimicking the formation in miniature with her
hands.
K'rah smiles, "Alright folks, since I don't see any questions, I'd like
everyone mounted up and out on the weyrling grounds. We're going to run
through these formations on the ground. Hurry folks."
K'rah strides with militaristic precision toward Weyrling Grounds.
Halis walks with the usual spring in her step toward Weyrling Grounds.
Olexath strides with a grace not oft seen in a dragon toward Weyrling Grounds.
Betha smirks, this ought to be intersting and out she goes.
Weyrling Grounds
When in use by a class of Weyrlings, the Weyrlings' training ground area is
often busy with Weyrling pairs employed in practice drills or relaxing. The
air space overhead can be a danger zone to those not used to the antics that
young pairs tend to engage in, often seeming crowded as young dragonets test
their wings. The ground area seems spacious, never being quite as cramped as
the area overhead. Well-worn paths in the packed sand show the take-offs and
landings that many Turns have dug. The southeast section of the bowl is
northwest from here and in the southeastern direction is where the Weyrling
pairs call 'home'.
Perched somewhere up high, you see Satler.
Halis is here.
The following dragons are here: Muppeth, Sanath, Murath, Llywith, Caedmith,
Aidubaith, Daishoth, Remorth, and Olexath
From here you can go:
Lake
Weyrling Barracks
Nhaeth has arrived.
Betha has arrived.
Betha clambers up limb and straps, finally settling on Remorth's neck.
Scrambling quickly up Olexath's deep crystal blue forelimb, Halis soon settles
between iridescent ridges of pure midnight.
Remorth lets his wings caress the air moving his bulk toward Sky Above
Weyrling Grounds.
From Sky Above Weyrling Grounds, Remorth lets his wings caress the air moving
his bulk toward Sky High Above Southeast Bowl.
Nhaeth stumbles out, not nearly dragging his feet as much now, with his strong
haunches bunching and easing appropriately on each hop. D'ney joins him in a
clearing left amongst the weyrlings, and mounts.
You mount Nhaeth.
Inky dollops of dusty rose salmon coalesce the creases of his vast expanse of
seasoned black cherry hide, cluttering into gangly extremities seeped in
sepia before vanishing beneath a facade of dusky darkness. Sleek sheets of
lengthy mocha-washed wings drizzled with an ethereal edge of frosty pink
coral veins engulf him, cluttering the smooth, rounded ridges that bud from
his elongated neck and rosewood headknobs, leaving only a whim of the large,
expressive eyes that light his nervous triangular head. Hints of deep well
metallicy limn his soot-smudged physique, creating golden glimpses that
overshadow the disproportions and discrepancies and glitter the lengthy
starscape frame from rich hazelnut tail to clever ebon talons with heroic
motes of succulent, suffering incandescence.
Nhaeth is 10 Months and 7 Days old.
D'ney is riding Nhaeth
(Nhaeth) Balanced between Daishoth's neckridges, K'rah calls from astride her
lifemate, "Alrigh Halis. Imagine you're the wingleader, I want you to put us
into a line formation, and then move through tightening and loosening the
formation. Start whenever you're ready."
(Nhaeth) Satler flitters toward Southeast Bowl.
(Nhaeth) Settled in amongst Olexath's icy ridges of pure midnight, Halis nods
a bit and pokes at Lexie, "You heard her, let's get to work." She lets
Olexath pass the information along the lines as she calls, "Alright, line
formation everyone!" << Duilliath behind me! The rest of you by color.
Bigger ones towards the front. Let's go! >> The pair waits for everyone to
scoot into line before giving them any more commands.
(Nhaeth) Nhaeth raises his wings cautiously, arching his back with unconscious
pride as he waddles into line along with the others. In the process,
someone's toe gets stepped on, and the resultant flurry claims his anxious
attention for a while. "Quiet, quiet," D'ney snaps at dragon then lifemate,
and when that doesn't work, reluctantly adds, "Sorry. He didn't mean to do
that."
(Nhaeth) Daishoth waits to fall into position with the other blues, all the
while the blue and his lifemate are keeping track of who's going where and
how long it takes. Finally as everyone falls into place the bluerider nods.
<<Too slow>> Quip's Dai, and his lifemate agrees. "Alright, we know what
order to go in, lets fall out and try again, Halis, on your mark."
(Nhaeth) Settled in amongst Olexath's icy ridges of pure midnight, Halis nods
and pats Olexath's neck, "You're doin fine." She and her dragon wait for
everyone to scatter a bit before starting over again, "Alright everyone, line
formation!" Olexath sends the same command on down the line, deep voice
rumbling. Ok so he's trying to sound more manly, he can't help it. <<
Straighten up in the back! Closer together. >>
(Nhaeth) Astride Nhaeth, D'ney nods and watches for Halis's signal. When it
comes, she lowers her voice to a hushed version of the earlier staccato,
urging the cherry-dark brown to move back a step, then left and into place.
Not that Nhaeth truly pays much attention to D'ney -- he slides smoothly into
place sans tangle this time.
(Nhaeth) Daishoth bugles his approval. <<Good work! You'll get better with
tight spaces the more you practice.>> K'rah can't hide her smile, that went
much better, and if Dai's saing it was good, then it must have been
spectacular. "Alright D'ney, your turn, put us into a V-formation please."
(Nhaeth) [#iww] Nhaeth wriggles worried streamers of thought into the
collective mind, interspersed with vague conviction of something he cannot
put his paw on.
(Nhaeth) Settled in amongst Olexath's icy ridges of pure midnight, Halis
smiles, glad she was able to be up front and do reasonably well for once.
She then herds Olexath back out of line to wait for D'ney's signal. Olexath
getting a scritch of approval from his rider.
(Nhaeth) Astride Nhaeth, D'ney leans down to give Nhaeth brief assurance, then
is lofted to the front, turning back to shout to the rest of the crew. "All
right, move into the V-formation. Bronzes here, greens at the back." The
brown relays a similar string of commands, albeit less roughly, and D'ney
soon desists to allow him his head.
(Nhaeth) [#iww] Daishoth envisions what the formation should look like,
wingleader at the point, in this case D'ney and Nhaeth, with wingsecond on
the right, and bronzes then browns, blues and finally greens filling out
either side. <<Like this>> He offers in an encoraging tone.
(Nhaeth) Olexath rumbles along into place as quickly as possible, though he
does have to convince a green to scoot back and let him in.
(Nhaeth) Balanced between Daishoth's neckridges, K'rah watches as all the
weyrlings fall into place, and while it's not smooth, it's not horrible and
there is nothing that practice won't take care of. <<Alright, let's move!>>
The blue starts to explain and then his lifemate takes over. "We're going to
walk in formation across the grounds, on your mark D'ney. Make sure you keep
equal spaces."
The weyrlings shuffle into position, but the transition lacks smoothness, and
D'ney waves her hand behind her back to emphasize that, with Nhaeth imaging
varie-coloured formations to the other dragons.
(Nhaeth) Olexath dozes off...
(Nhaeth) Astride Nhaeth, D'ney has to rely on Nhaeth for this, which occasions
some discomfort on her part. "Okay," she agrees with K'rah as her lifemate
begins the lanky jogging motion that marks the flightless weyrling dragon.
(Nhaeth) [#iww] Nhaeth motions the others forward as best he can. << Stay in
your formation. >> And with that, the repetitious V's that arch into view, a
spread map of dragons each in their proper places. Now if only reality could
be as forgiving.
(Nhaeth) Daishoth keeps his ever-watchful eye on all the weyrlings as they
amble forward. <<Bronzes slow down, greens, you're getting bunched! Watch the
spacing>> The blue waits until the formation returns to some semblance of
order he calls again. <<Nhaeth, tighten the formation.>> And if they're
already almost stepping on each other, this'll be interesting.
(Nhaeth) But it isn't as interesting as all that: the dragons are straggling
forward, narrowly missing the whiplashes of wings and tail. Even Nhaeth is
keeping his head straight and his eyes ahead, passing the command down with
mere effort of thought. It is Dallan who detracts from the calm demeanour of
the dragon, yelling "Tighten!" in the hopes that her voice will drift
backwards.
(Nhaeth) Balanced between Daishoth's neckridges, K'rah nods approvingly, it's
not perfect, but it's looking good. "Remember everything happens faster when
you're in a tight formation, stay alert, there is less room for error here."
That's something to be remembered especially when there's fire involved.
(Nhaeth) K'rah vaults skillfully down from Daishoth's height.
(Nhaeth) K'rah springs upward, setteling comfortably between Daishoth's
neckridges.
(Nhaeth) Daishoth ambles along in formation watching the spaces carefully.
<<Lookin' Good.>> Or, good for the first time out anyway. K'rah too is
watching, and is happy with what she sees. "Alright folks, we'll be doing
more of this later, so be prepared. When it's perfect on the ground, we do
it in the sky. " A whole new set of challenges. "In the meantime, Class
Dismissed!"
(Nhaeth) K'rah vaults skillfully down from Daishoth's height.
D'ney dismounts from Nhaeth.
K'rah with that the bluerider dismounts, and makes her way toward the office.
K'rah strides with militaristic precision toward Weyrling Barracks.
D'ney salutes K'rah's diminishing back by force of habit, then turns back to
Nhaeth and the forgotten straps.
You click your heels three times.
Nhaeth has arrived.