The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) 1967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright. This is a log of roleplay on PernMUSH, available online by permission of Anne McCaffrey, author of the Pern novels, and recorded by A.S. Korra'ti (piper@murkworks.net), player of Mehlani of Telgar Weyr on PernMUSH. This log may be distributed freely as long as this header remains intact. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Log Date: 4/16/96 Log Cast (in order of appearance): Humans: Anra, F'hlan, T'fian, Elyandra, Maarie, Davidon, J'dar, T'nnar, R'val, Jazmin Dragons: Tzornth, Meroth, Vidarth, Zibrith, Brenneth, Chaeth, Salith Log Intro: As is the case in any of the Weyrs of Pern, there are green dragons rising almost every day. But in this particular season at Benden Weyr, the greens have been particularly proddy. F'hlan, bronze Tzornth's rider, taking time off to heal from a nasty Threadscore to his leg, has watched his dragon linger fretfully near the Feeding Grounds all day, as if anxiously awaiting the sight of glowing wings. Already, once today, F'hlan has watched his dragon almost begin blooding without a sign of a green; but when no green showed, F'hlan hauled him back into their nearby ground-level weyr. But Tzornth hasn't settled down, and it doesn't take long before the dragon gets out again, aiming for the Feeding Grounds..... ---------- Tzornth's Weyr(#8157RJ$) This is a smallish weyr, and one whose walls are roughly hewn, suggesting it might have been one of the last ones cut into the walls of Benden Weyr. The stone floor, too, is less smooth than in other parts of the Weyr, tilting very slightly towards the dragon-shaped depression near one wall. Higher up along the walls are several nooks and tiny ledges where fire lizards can roost. There are two exits out of this chamber, one out to the Bowl, and another into a smaller chamber towards the back of the weyr, obviously intended as personal quarters for whatever rider resides here. The sky is hidden by a grey blanket, and there is a chilly dampness to the air. Contents: Aeyri(#9556IMes) Obvious exits: Quarters Bowl Tzornth has arrived. Anra has connected. Tzornth lumbers out of the weyr to the Bowl outside. You head down the low steps into the... South Bowl The southern half of the bowl is the largest. Its expanse stretches out, partitioned into sections by the color of the ground. The shore of the lake stretches out to the southwest. The bowl's patch of wildflowers, gardens and a few small small trees stretching out in that direction also, grading into the Runner Pasture. The rest of the southern bowl is pressed earth as hard as rock, raked with dragon talons from turns of launchings and landings. Towards the weyrling barracks, the ground is scarred in regular patterns from the performance of age-old drills. The rest of the ground is scarred more irregularly, and a large pile of firestone is stacked neatly by the wall. The ground also has black stains from the firestone. Fall leaves cling around the edges of the bowl, and the trees near the lake are bedecked with bronze and red splendor. The sky is hidden by a grey blanket, and there is a chilly dampness to the air. Contents: Tzornth(#742IMQaes) Kayne's Trader Wagon Obvious exits: Feeding Grounds Runner Pasture Lake Shore Weyrling Barracks North Bowl Weyr Entrance Above, Meroth flies over from the north end of the bowl. Tzornth springs into the air for a quick flight over the fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again. Meroth backwings for a landing. Vidarth lumbers here from the north. T'fian quickly slides down Meroth's foreleg and jumps to the ground. A dragon lands, shooing off a bunch of layabouts who are in his way. Franklin has left. Meroth springs into the air for a quick flight over the fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again. F'hlan mumbles, stunned, "Oh no..." Evidently, he was NOT wrong. Zibrith lumbers here from the north. Elyandra walks here from the north. Vidarth springs into the air for a quick flight over the fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again. Brenneth lumbers here from the north. Zibrith springs into the air for a quick flight over the fence and into the feeding grounds, where she settles again. In the Feeding Grounds, Chaeth is here and rumbles to the dragons, blood already covering his muzzle. Brenneth springs into the air for a quick flight over the fence and into the feeding grounds, where he settles again. In the Feeding Grounds, Tzornth BUGLES, fiercely, as he eludes his rider to return to the feeding grounds. Isolde has arrived. In the Feeding Grounds, Vidarth hops over the fence, wings spreading as he sails into the grounds, and descends on the nearest beast, snatching it between his large claws, and crushing it, causing it to squeal in agony as it dies. He rips open it's throat as he lands, and drinks it's blood as it spurts out. F'hlan eyes the feeding grounds, and sighs. With the sudden gathering of male dragons, he thinks, there can be no doubt. Resignedly, he leans against the entry wall of his weyr, watching. In the Feeding Grounds, Meroth swings head around, snapping his neck back and forth. His purple/red eyes land on a slow moving panicked buck and with a quick jump leaps onto the creature, crushing it. He brings his muzzle down to the creature's neck and tears it open, quickly lapping at the fountaining blood. In the Feeding Grounds, Zibrith makes quick work of jumping over the fence and snagging a fat, tasty looking buck. She carries it to a ledge, her eyes blazing red fury as she BUGLES to her rider, whos eyes are faded as she fights to control the glowing green beast! She reluctantly tears only the throat of the large animal, ending it's pain as she sucks the lifeblood out of him. In the Feeding Grounds, Brenneth pounces, snagging a herdbeast with his talons and shredding its neck. he fastens his massive jaws to the ripped flesh and drinks greedily of its life's blood. T'fian shakes his head, watching his blue in the feeding grounds. "Shards," he mutters quietly. F'hlan, even after 18 Turns of riding, winces slightly at the uncommonly vicious flurry of feeding. In the Feeding Grounds, Tzornth slashes open a squealing wherry. The bronze's eyes whirl a hot shade of magenta. In the Feeding Grounds, Chaeth reaches out a claw and swats a slow moving herdbeast, knocking it senseless to the ground. He dives for it, his powerful jaws tearing into the soft flesh to drink from the blood within. The dry corpse gets thrown aside as the brown pauses to watch the glowing green. In the Feeding Grounds, Vidarth drops his first kill with a crash to the ground as he algihts upon the soil near the corpse, and snapping out with one paw to knock a nearby beast into the pens, stunning it. Before the confused animal can move, he descends upon it, tearing out it's throat with one swipe of his claw, bringing the dead body to his muzzle where he laps at the juice.s Elyandra runs up to the gate and reaches a hand out as if to grab at her dragon, "Zibrith NO!" Her eyes remain faded as her dragon sucks on the neck of the buck. She soon tosses the empty carcass aside and slips off the ledge, tackling a large wherry and crushing it's neck right there. Zibrith tears open the fat belly and sucks on the intestines, blood dripping from her tongue as she hisses at the nearby Vidarth. "This," murmurs F'hlan succintly, "is going to be difficult." T'fian glances at Elyandra and then over at F'hlan, momentarily distracted from the sight of his dragon's blooding. Above, Salith flies over from the north end of the bowl. In the Feeding Grounds, Zibrith BUGLES defiantly at all the males around her, swinging head around as one gets near her on the left, then another on the right! Her screech of anger rises from deep within her, growing to a deafening bellow as she warns them off! In the Feeding Grounds, Tzornth eyes his rivals, and a low rumble thunders in his throat. Then, with near-blinding speed, the mature bronze takes one more kill. Above, Salith flies downward towards the feeding grounds. In the Feeding Grounds, Salith flies over the feeding grounds from above the bowl. In the Feeding Grounds, Meroth sits up on his haunches and roars, blood dripping from his muzzle. He drops onto another buck, quickly and easily killing the slow beast. In the Feeding Grounds, Brenneth discards the empty corpse and quickly turns another beast into a corpse as well. He sucks down the blood quickly, his eyes whirling faster, tinged with purples, as he looks to the glowing green Zibrith In the Feeding Grounds, Vidarth swings his red-whirling gaze around to eye Zibrith's glowing form heatedly. Muscles ripple smoothly as he slides from the corpse of his latest kill to dart onto the nearest herdbeast, snapping it's neck in an instant. He tears out it's throat and drinks it's blood. In the Feeding Grounds, Chaeth bugles in return to the green chalenge before nabbing another animal and sucking the life energy out of it as well. Maarie comes here from the direction of the runner pasture. Maarie walks north. Davidon heads into the South Bowl area from the lake shore to the southwest. In the Feeding Grounds, Salith heavily slows down his descent, aligning his sweep with the fleeing herd. An isolated buck is merely scratched by his extended talon, then animal topposed on the ground in a dissipating spurt of blood. The browns jaw closes over the wound, starting to drain the carcass of its offering. In the Feeding Grounds, Brenneth lets the last carcass fall from his jaws. He crouches back, ready to follow the green to the skies, licking the blood from his muzzle as he studies her, intently. In the Feeding Grounds, Zibrith makes quick work of the wherry and then jumps on an unsuspecting doe. The captured beast shreiks in pain as her talons rip into it's flesh. She knocks it unconcious as the audible sound of it's neck cracking echoes across the bowl. She drops it, head first, onto the ledge and then rips it's throat out, sucking the blood from it's neck. She tosses the limp body aside and TRUMPETS her defiance to the males around her, flinging blood across them as she leaps towards the sky, daring them to follow! In the Feeding Grounds, Zibrith takes flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry her aloft -- much to the relief of the wherries. Above, Zibrith rises up from the feeding grounds. In the Feeding Grounds, Vidarth, Tzornth, Brenneth, Chaeth, Meroth, and Salith take flight, using the thermals rising from the bowl to carry them aloft -- much to the relief of the wherries. Maarie walks here from the north. J'dar walks here from the north. Maarie opens the gate and enters the runner pasture, closing it behind her. Above, Tzornth trumpets, ringingly, as he gains an early lead into the sky. J'dar looks around, lost and disoriented. "Where...?" J'dar Before you is a growing lad, of about 16 or 17 turns. He stands at about average height, but you're sure that he's not quite done growing yet. J'dar is thin, but not skinny, and his recently trimmed mop of dark blond hair reaches just past his shoulders, when it isn't stuffed under his flight helmet. Always good-humored, his brown eyes glitter with amusement, even when he is doing chores. He favors his right leg slightly, more when it's late in the day, but doesn't seem bothered by it. He wears a simple tunic, bright blue in color, and black trousers with black boots. They are reasonably clean, although it's obvious he's been doing a lot of work. A knot of blue and black cords on his shoulder indicates that he is a bluerider at High Reaches Weyr, with a badge on his flight jacket showing that he is in the Glacier wing. Above, Zibrith soars up and up, her eyes glowing blood red as she turns to tease the oncoming males, hissing and crooning up them as she widens the gap with her small size. Her powerful wings carry her up and up, past the lip of the weyr. Above, Salith glides down from above. F'hlan, face drawn and slightly pale, glances at the young rider who must have come in with one of the out-Weyr dragons. He nods, brusquely, at Elyandra. Elyandra stands there, death grip on the fence of the Feeding Grounds as she stares, eyes blank, at her dragon, not moving. Not noticing the others. Aware only of her glowing green lifemate's emotions. T'fian chews on his lip, shifting from foot to foot. Above, Meroth roars in his high pitched voice at the bronze. His wings thrust in an easy rhythm, pushing himself forward, trying to overtake the bronze as he wings after the glowing green. Above, Vidarth makes no sound as he rises swiftly in pursuit of Zibrith, tilting his wings into the familiar thermals of the Benden sky. Muscles ripple smoothly as he maintains a regular, consistent pace, rising after the green. Above, Salith pumps his wings after the rising green, his stregth giving him a rise. The green he lusts for is escaping... But she belongs to *him*. Muscles clench under the brown hide, and his bulk finally gains speed to the jittering prize. T'nnar walks here from the north. Above, Brenneth soars after the green, bugling his own challenge to the other males. Unfamiliar skies and his young age make no difference to him as instinct takes over. R'val walks here from the north. Davidon looks up into the sky, wiping rain from his face as he tilts his head up. Above, Chaeth gets a slow take off and pushes himself hard to keep with the pack, even at the tail end of the pack. His height is low as he pumps hard to gain some speed. F'hlan shivers slightly, his gaze now lifted skyward and following his bronze. Jazmin walks here from the north. Above, Zibrith turns on a wingtip, suddenly darting the opposite way and flying directly over the heads of the males! Her defiant BUGLE sounds more like laughter as she flies straight past them, though she is still far above. She gracefully soars even higher! Above, Vidarth soars upwards after Zibrith, wings lustily pumping the air, working the muscles in his back and shoulders intensely as he pursues, lifting on the thermal he tilts his wings into, maintaining a steady pace upwards after Zibrith. J'dar stays with the others, eyes drawn to the shapes above that can only barely be seen. "Come on, Brenneth, don't get left behind." Above, Tzornth banks, hard, allowing himself to spare the power to do so. The maneuver costs him precious distance, though, allowing those rivals immediately behind him to get closer.... Above, Meroth bugles his frustration at the quick maneuver of Zibrith. Banking sharply, his form is perpendicular to the ground and the wind pushes him back around onto her course. He quickly evens out and wings after the green. Elyandra feels no rain, no cold, though her riding leathers are soaked through at this point and her dark curls hang loose from her braid, dripping raindrops into her eyes. R'val's hands curl into fists at his side as he looks upwards after the rising dragons. Above, Salith spreads his wings, expecting the green to fly past, then backwings, and fans his wings again, forcibly changing the direction, turning rather quickly past his initial miscalculation. With a bugle, he resumes advance over the still growing gap to the green whose calling flames his mind. Above, Chaeth uses his position at the back to his advantage as he makes as quick a turn as he can manage to follow the path of the glowing green, he allows himself a soft rumble as he pulls ahead of the pack. Above, Brenneth takes advantage of his small size and agility, he turns almost as quickly as the green, and manages to follow her maneuver before getting too far behind. T'nnar T'nnar is a dark young man of middle built, some 24 turns old. His eyes are black, and hair, too, and it goes all ways but down. He moves smoothly and liquidly, but a bit hurried... Is if time goes a tiny bit faster for him. His firelizards actually flutter around in this same sped-up way. His face is contrary to this image... Serene, somewhat. Hard to remember. He wears his brown wherhide jacket, over the gray tunic and blue dyed trousers. Overall, his gear seem to be well kept, but also used a lot, since the Fall hasn't been merciful on the weyr. He wears the Benden Wingleader knot on his shoulder. Jazmin opens her eyes briefly as she almost walks into a bystander before shutting them tight again, her concentration on her lifemate. Above, Zibrith trumpets in suprise as blue Draeth suddenly appears beside her! He came out of nowhere, being a late addition to this situation. She reaches out her talons and rakes at him, slashing his left flank from tail to toes! Black ichor rains over the onlookers as the blue SCREAMS in pain and immediately glides downward toward his rider. F'hlan, with some effort, jerks his gaze down from the dragons. It's raining -- the riders need to get into shelter. Warily eyeing Elyandra, he edges to her, and says as clearly as he can manage, "Elyandra. The guest weyr." Above, Tzornth ROARS, sounding strangely pleased at Zibrith's fierceness. Finding himself neck and neck with Chaeth, the Benden bronze ekes forth more power, to try to regain the lead he's lost. Elyandra blinks at the words of the bronzerider, realizing suddenly where she is, though her eyes remain faded still. She follows him to the guest weyr. T'fian forcibly rips his eyes from the sky, ignoring the rain, at F'hlan's voice. He looks at him and Elyandra. F'hlan turns, then, and limps off through the misting rain -- though not without another tense glance skyward. [The dragonriders head off with an effort to....] You push aside the curtain and enter the weyr. Guest (Ground-floor) Weyr(#392RA) This is a large, ground level weyr not far from the junior queen's weyrs. The stone couch is covered by several thick blankets, and is very comfortable while providing a soft place to rest. Several glowbaskets give off light, and the floor has been worn very smooth. A passages leads out into the bowl. Contents: T'fian Elyandra Obvious exits: Bowl J'dar comes into the weyr from the bowl. Tzornth> Chaeth rumbles at the bronze starting to edge him out and strains to push ahead, trying to keep up with the larger dragon. Elyandra blinks and looks around her, clenching and unclenching her fists. Jazmin comes into the weyr from the bowl. T'nnar comes into the weyr from the bowl. Tzornth> Brenneth falters briefly, seeing the attack, but hormones quickly overpower any semblance of sense, and he redoubles his effort. She *will* be his. Tzornth> Salith 's eyes flash *red* for a moment, before violet swirls take over again. He speeds toward the green, the anger at the blue's insolence propelling him forward. The wings sweep, and the green grows in his sight just before she manages to take the flight again... His muscles bunch slightly, and heave under his hide. R'val comes into the weyr from the bowl. R'val staggers in the others, and slumps against he wall nearest the door, watching Elyandra with a dark, heated gaze. Tzornth> Zibrith watches Draeth swoop towards the ground with a triumphant BUGLE! She swings her head around, realizing that the other males have closed the gap a bit. She begins pumping her wings in an effort to fly higher, causing herself to tire some with the effort. Despite her efforts, the males seem to slowly be closing the gap. She croons pitifully in frustration as her eyes blaze red. Tzornth> Meroth bugles his frustration at the brown and bronze leading the pack. He thrusts his wings against the air, darting forward and nimbly sliding around the slower males in the pack. F'hlan, once in out of the rain, leans with a tiny measure of relief against a side wall. Surreptitiously he massages the outer side of his right thigh, as if the leg pains him. T'fian slides against the farthest wall from Elyandra, looking at her and through her at the same time. Tzornth> Vidarth tilts his wings into the stiff breeze in the Benden bowl and rises in pursuit of Zibrith, pumping the air more determinedly now, with increasing energy as he ceases to restrain his efforts and his back and wing muscles ripple with effort as he darts up after the glowing green. Elyandra's eyes dart from face to face, all familiar, yet all so strange. Though her eyes are with her dragon, faded and wide, they are lit with confusion as the riders faces meld in her mind with those of their dragons. Tzornth> Tzornth SNARLS irritably as Meroth wings ahead of him -- he will NOT be outdone! The bronze arrows onward now with as much power as he can muster. His eyes blaze radiant violet. Tzornth> Brenneth watches Zibrith's sleek greenness with red-violet eyes. Noticing that she tires, he cuts across a brown's flight path and surges forward, determination carrying him along almost as much as the air currents do. Tzornth> Salith trumpets his challenge, as he sees Zibrith slowing, the sound aimed to surprise and startle the surrounding males, as well. He now puts his full strength in the flight, as the green hopefully won't wiggle and straggle as much. His wings are tight with the new vigour. And Zibrith will be his. Tzornth> Chaeth strains with the effort of trying to catch Tzornth, and then Meroth adds to his desire.. he pushes, harder than he's pushed himself before and then with a BUGLE of frustration, one wing hangs a bit oddly and he starts to plummet to the ground. J'dar paces, but his attention is on Elyandra and not where he's going. Jazmin screams softly and races outside. Tzornth> Chaeth flies downwards towards the bowl. F'hlan sucks in a slow breath, glancing after Jazmin. Aye, he thinks, this _is_ turning out to be difficult. His face has gone white, strained. Jazmin leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl. Tzornth> Tzornth with one brown challenger gone ROARS in triumph. Salith, now, must be bested. Tzornth> Southern Bowl Airspace Tzornth> You hover above the southern end of the great bowl of Benden Weyr. Jutting from the walls of the Weyr are many ledges that lead to the individual dragonweyrs. Directly below you are the sands of the southern bowl, and just off to the side is the part set aside as the Training Grounds for the weyrlings. Close to the training grounds you can see the waters of the Weyr lake and the large pen that serves as the dragons' feeding grounds. To see a list of landing areas, '+view landing sites'. You can see the dragonweyrs of Dawnslight and Aerie wings. Use '+view dawnslight' or '+view aerie' to see them. Tzornth> The sky is hidden by a grey blanket, and there is a chilly dampness to the air. Tzornth> Contents: Tzornth> Salith Tzornth> Meroth Tzornth> Brenneth Tzornth> Vidarth Tzornth> Zibrith Tzornth> Zibrith sees her efforts to gain altitude are fruitless as the males get closer and closer. She rumbles as her mind whirls along with the firey red of her eyes, trying to decide what to do. She looks over her shoulder again, noting the location of each-and-every male before folding her wings and diving headfirst in a slow spiral towards the ground! R'val's arms cross over his chest, hugging himself as he stares at Elyandra with wide, blurred eyes, his strong frame trembling. T'nnar's eyes are intent on Elyandra, he is one with his dragon now, and it is quite possible that what his eye see it... green. Tzornth> Meroth's pale, almost-white wings falter momentarily at the sound of Tzornth's roar. He slips downward, his speed faltering. Only the green ahead keeps him from not regaining his rhythm. He quickly find the rhythm again, just as Zibrith dives. He falters again in surprise, bugling as dragons overtake him. Tzornth> Tzornth noses himself downward, slowly, but with unbroken rhythm. Momentum begins to lend speed to his descent, as he closes in on Zibrith once more. T'fian closes his eyes, starting almost and he turns to look at F'hlan, anger evident on his face. Tzornth> Vidarth tucks his wings into his side, and uses his smaller size to tilt towards the ground quickly, and dart downwards after Zibrith in swift pursuit, lithe blue form hurtling down towards her. Elyandra turns in a slow circle, clenching and unclenching her fists as she watches the riders of the male dragons. Sweat breaks out on her forhead, pasting her loose curls there as it drips into her wild green eyes. Tzornth> Salith uses his inertia to throw himself in a smooth parabola until he is straight above the green. Then he backwings, his speed zeroing, but his wings then fold with a loud *flap*, and he thunders to the ground like an arrowhead, closing to the spiralling green through the thinning ranks of his competitors, his nuzzle closed, his mind concentrated on a single goal. Tzornth> Brenneth tucks his wings in closer, diving to follow Zibrith. Keeping his dive shallower, he stays slightly above the glowing green, hoping to get closer so he can drop down from above. F'hlan, out of all the riders here, seems to be keeping some measure of consciousness of where _he_ is, versus where his dragon flies. But he is not entirely separate from Tzornth, and his brown gaze is oddly hard and level as he stares back at T'fian. R'val's eyes watch Elyandra, and ignore all else, intense and focused as he stares at her, curling his hands into fists as he lets his arms fall stiffly to his sides. Tzornth> Zibrith plummets towards the ground, opening her wings before what would be certain death overtakes her. A *fwomp* can be heard as far as the North Bowl as she darts skyward and notes, with a frustrated BUGLE!, that she's right in the middle of all the males! They surround her! All right within grasp! A suprised croon escapes her throat as she tries to turn away from them! Tzornth> Vidarth reaches for Zibrith as she swoops upwards into the group. He extends his neck in a sensual arch, seeking to twine it with hers as his claws and wings seek to foul hers in his grip. Tzornth> Tzornth BUGLES, exultantly. Above Salith, still, the bronze seeks a way to dart past the brown. His claws extend, hopefully... Tzornth> Brenneth bugles as Zibrith rises again, almost right in front of him. He pours on the reserves of his strength and extends his neck and wings towards her, straining, reaching, needing... Tzornth> Zibrith BUGLES in frustration as she finds herself in the grasp of the large bronze, his taloned limbs surrounding her! Tzornth> Meroth's dive manages to bring him near the rear of the pack. He roars, his high voice echoing through the bowl, as he realizes he's not close enough to break through the other males to reach for the glowing green form in their midst. Tzornth> Salith uses the chance as it is presented to him. He forcefully flips his tail down for the ballance, backwinging at the same time, the wing membrane stretching to a dark concavity as the air rushes into it to break his speed. And the green is NEARBY! He extends his tail, using the last of his fall to manouver, struggling with the mass of his legs to shift him right in the green's path. R'val leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl. Tzornth> Vidarth flies downwards towards the bowl. Elyandra backs up against the wall to stare at F'hlan with wide eyes. She slides down it, watching him closely. Tzornth> Tzornth ROARS again, in triumph and need. The green beauty in his grasp, he closes in, to maintain his hold... and answer the call to which, now, both dragons respond. Tzornth> Salith bugles, his frustration matching the green's. Then he manouves to the side, and starts a slower, descending spiral into the bowl. F'hlan fumbles at the wall behind him, jerking his gaze round from T'fian to the green rider. His face flushes, slightly. T'nnar leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl. T'fian brings his hands together, the fingernails of his right ripping into the flesh of his left palm, bringing him back to himself. He shakes his head and his eyes unglaze. Opening and closing his mouth like a fish, he turns to make his way to the entrance. T'fian leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl. Tzornth> Zibrith winds her neck around Tzornth's, along with her tail as her eyes blaze red with fire. Tzornth> Salith flies towards the north end of the bowl. Tzornth> From the North, Salith flies downward to the ground. Tzornth> Meroth opens his wings wide, angled upward. The rushing wind fills the wingssails, slwoing hiss descent and forcing him back upwards here he then banks and flies down towards the ground a far distance from the bronze and green. Tzornth> Zibrith lands on Zibrith's Ledge. Tzornth> Meroth flies towards the north end of the bowl. Tzornth> You land on Zibrith's Ledge. Tzornth> Zibrith's Ledge(#8612RJLs) Tzornth> The outer ledge is big enough for a dragon to stretch out and bask in the sunlight on those sunny summer days. Once inside though the weyr is cool and dark, illuminated by a few glow baskets on the wall. Off to the right is a couch more than large enough to sleep the 23 metre green dragon who lives here, as well as enough floor space for another dragon to rest comfortably. On the stone couch there are a couple of older sleeping furs which Zibrith insists on having. On the opposite wall are a number of pegs each holding a set of riding straps. The straps are carefully oiled and hung neatly in place. Past the couch is a thick curtain, pushed back to reveal a thinner curtain of a gauze-like material. Through this thin curtain one can glimpse the inner weyr where the humans sleep and live. Tzornth> Contents: Tzornth> Zibrith Tzornth> Shimmer Tzornth> Pester Tzornth> Basket of warm sand Tzornth> Obvious exits: Tzornth> Inner Weyr J'dar leaves the weyr and heads out into the bowl. F'hlan straightens, with an effort, and shakes his head as if ever so slightly dazed. He eyes the still-lingering visiting blue rider even as he stumbles towards Elyandra. Elyandra smiles tentatively. She swallows hard, "Um... hi?" His dark eyes oddly softened, F'hlan swallows, and says huskily, "We... must... if you do not wish, I...." Elyandra points outside, "You.. um.. they..." She blushes and swallows before smiling, "She never gives me any warning...." F'hlan nods once, solemnly. His weathered face is still just a trifle flushed, and he is still very near. Elyandra Bright green eyes dart from one point of interest to the next, not missing much as they drink in her surroundings. Every once in a while her eyes narrow, causing the delicate features on Elyandra's child-like face to age dramatically. Having always been small for her age, she still passes for a young girl were it not for her sharp tongue and lady-like stature. Even at 19 Turns, 2 months, and 4 days she stands a mere 5'1" and is dwarfed my most. Her long blue-black hair hangs in a thick braid well past her waist, a few tendrils curling at her temples and the base of her neck. Around her neck is a delicate silver chain carrying an intricately carved pendant bearing a dark malachite dragon and inscribed with a diamond shape and the Benden II sign. On her left ring finger is an intricately carved ring of a firelizard with jeweled sapphire eyes. She is wearing a large white shirt tucked into snug, form-fitting brown wherhide pants. Her pants are tucked into knee high riding boots. Proudly displayed on her flight jacket are numerous patches and knots, all indicative of her positions: Greenrider at Benden Weyr, Dawnslight Wing, and Dragonhealers. Elyandra begins to ramble nervously, "She did this last time too. Caught all of us off guard. L'nay got dragged into the middle between myself and Jazmin..." F'hlan says, gruffly, "Do you... need L'nay summoned?" Elyandra blinks, not comprehending, "Why would I need L'nay? He's off on errands or something..." She stares for a moment, "I don't need L'nay summoned. Tzornth won, not Palinth. Such is the life of a rider. L'nay knows this." [And with that affirmed, F'hlan allows himself to yield to the other rider, even as her dragon yields to his. Fade to black, and end log.]