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:
	5/8/97

Log Cast:
	Mehlani, Caitria, Torlin, Emlyn, Kassima, C'vadan, Jalimax, Rosalen

Log Intro:
	Over the past couple of Turns, young Mehlani, daughter of F'hlan
and Melora, has continued to lead a quiet life with her father at Benden
Weyr. She's been getting old enough, though, that at least two Crafts have had
their eye on her -- the Harpers, in the guise of Journeyman Skye, and the
Herders, represented by Caitria, who's long allowed the girl to help her out
in the runner stables at the Weyr, and who has especially noticed the mutual
fondness between Mehlani and the stallion Tsornin. Once Mehlani reaches her
twelth Turn, Caitria decides it's time to approach the girl again about getting
into the Herdercraft....

----------
You open the gate and enter the runner pasture, remembering to close it 
  behind you.
Runner Pasture
The side of the Bowl towers up over your head, sharply edged against the sky 
  above. The pasture takes the shape of a large semi-circle, fenced in with 
  sturdy wooden timbers to keep the herdbeasts in the feeding grounds from 
  escaping into here.
Some puffy clouds skirt across the summer skies.
Contents:
Tsornin
small shed
Pi
Mareth
Obvious exits:
Feeding Grounds Beast Hold Bowl

Padding quietly into the pasture, with bronze Holl riding staunchly on her 
  shoulder, Mehlani pauses by the fence and smiles a little at the sight of 
  Tsornin out.

Atop Tsornin, Caitria spots Mehlani and smiles, gently urging Tsornin towards 

Tsornin
 Rather massive even for a runner stallion, Tsornin's vibrant blood-bay hide, 
  mahogany with red undertones and black points, gleams with the care that his 
  mistress bestows upon him. His jet-black mane and tail are carefully 
  brushed, and free from burrs. Tsornin is currently saddled, the dark brown 
  saddle, tack, and saddlebags shining.
Carrying:
Caitria

"Hello...." the girl breathes, while Holl sits up more readily, as if to peer 
  at the woman and the runner and see whether they pass muster. Evidently the 
  fire lizard approves, for he croons.

Tsornin whickers at the firelizard, and Tria chuckles. "Quite the watchlizard 
  you've got there."

Mehlani bobs her head solemnly, while Holl curls his tail anew about her neck.

Caitria climbs down from Tsornin's dark brown saddle.
Caitria has arrived.
Caitria rests a hand along Tsornin's neck and inquires, regarding Mehlani 
  thoughtfully, "How many Turns do you have now, kiddo?"

"Twelve," says the youngster, in her usual grave manner. Twelve? She still 
  looks only ten, with her small size.

Caitria's eyebrows lift briefly, but then she shrugs. Not like Mehlani would 
  tell a falsehood. "Did you ever think of apprenticing?"

Caitria
        The very faintest hint of inkstains still remain on Caitria's right 
  hand, the product of carelessness while doing hidework. Her jet-black hair, 
  which falls to her mid-back when unbound, is braided and coiled about her 
  head. Caitria's large, gray-green eyes are almost too large for her slender 
  face, and reflect her moods. Freckles dot the fair skin of her face, 
  especially along the bridge of her nose. Standing 5'4" tall, Caitria is 
  petite and moves with an unconscious grace. She looks to have somewhere 
  around 24 Turns. Her figure is only slightly fuller than it was several 
  turns ago.
        Tria is wearing a short-sleeved shirt of dark green material, and a 
  pair of black wherhide pants, which are tucked into her knee-high boots, 
  also of black wherhide. On one shoulder, Caitria wears a rather intricate 
  knot to show her Master Herder rank, Craftsecond position, and post as 
  Benden's Weyrherder.

A few flashes of lightning light up the skies on occassion, followed by 
  rumbles of thunder. A stiff wind drives the rain.

Mehlani issues a soft little shriek, as the wind picks up; Holl trills a 
  warning to the girl, and flaps his wings at the beginning of rolling thunder.

Caitria hrms softly, squinting skywards and then wiping her face. "Hm. Maybe 
  this isn't the best time to be discussing this. Not, at least, in the 
  pasture." She grins.

On 'Lani's little shoulder, Holl lets out a loud trumpet again as thunder 
  rolls. Mehlani, her hair beginning to be plastered to her head, shakes that 
  head firmly.

Caitria takes Tsornin's reins and leads the runner after her.
Caitria tells Mehlani, "I'm going to get him settled inside. Y'probably should 
  get inside somewhere before you get drenched." A pause, and then Tria grins 
  ruefully. "More drenched."

It would seem that the bronze fire lizard agrees with Caitria, as he continues 
  to creel anxiously on Mehlani's shoulder; at last, the girl bobs her soaked 
  head. She pauses briefly to run up to Tsornin and hug his neck, before 
  turning to hasten off across the Bowl, aiming for the Lower Caverns.

[And shortly...]

You walk past the lintel and into the wide living cavern.
Benden Weyr's Living Cavern(#750RJM$)
This huge cavern is sufficently roomy to hold a large portion of the Weyr's 
  population without feeling cramped. There's always a bustle of activity 
  here. Fragrant dishes are constantly in prepartion for mealtimes: currently 
  for the evening meal. Drudges are always present, either cleaning under 
  Salless' watchful eye, or helping fetch and carry. A myriad of glowbaskets 
  and many ever-lit hearths make the cavern warm and inviting despite its 
  size. The scents of cooking meats, baking breads and pastries, and the 
  pungent aroma of spices hang mouthwateringly in the air. It is little wonder 
  that those seeking to relax nearly always find their way here to do it. Dark 
  summer blooms of vivid hue decorate the tables.
A short tunnel jaunts eastward out to the bowl and the merry sounds of 
  cooking, chores, and laughter echo from the kitchen at the southwest end of 
  the cavern near the westerly passage to the rest of the lower caverns. To 
  the southeast is an entrance to the infirmary weyr to care for injured 
  dragons and riders.
Contents:
Salless
Athena(#9341V)
Obvious exits:
Lower Caverns  Kitchen  Bowl  

Torlin walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Torlin has arrived.
Torlin looks at you for a moment.
Torlin comes strolling, slowly, casually.

Mehlani bursts into the lower caverns, dripping and soaked, and panting 
  breathlessly. The bronze fire lizard on her shoulder clings for dear life 
  before she finally stumbles to a halt and stands there trying to get her 
  bearings.

Torlin
A hearty young fellow, Torlin looks to be around 14 Turns old. He is about 
  5'1" tall, has ebony black curly hair, which is cut as short as most of his 
  dragonrider ideals have it. He has large brown eyes which make him look 
  cute. He'd never admit this, though. He is wearing a coarse grey tunic over 
  a pair of black leather pants, and looks like he feels at home.
Carrying:
Champion

Torlin stops dead in his tracks. "Oh, my," he utters.

In a gesture that anyone who's been living in Benden Weyr for any length of 
  time at all would probably recognize as being imitative of her father, 
  Mehlani shoves a wet lock of auburn hair out of her blue eyes. The bronze 
  fire lizard coos pleadingly, and the young girl murmurs something to the 
  little creature before she pads, drippingly, to the hearth.

Torlin looks at the entrance, and at the wet track left by Mehlani. Then back 
  at the girl. "What happened? you're all wet." He seems to be master of the 
  obvious...

Mehlani turns her head to the sound of the nearby voice and replies solemnly, 
  "It's raining." A peal of thunder echoes from the Bowl. If Torlin is master 
  of the obvious, it would seem that this girl is a mistress of understatement.

On Mehlani's shoulder, her little bronze companion creels again, pleadingly, 
  and the girl scoots closer to the hearth until the fire's proximity seems to 
  satisfy the creature.

Torlin takes one look down the tunnel, and nods. "Looks like it." He grins. 
  "But what brought you out there?"

"I was in the field, and Caitria said to go in," says the girl soberly, as she 
  begins to methodically wring water out of her tunic.

Torlin walks to the hearth, and pours himself a cup of klah. "Too late, it 
  seems..." He smiles.

The girl with the fire lizard nods solemnly, as she stands there dripping. Her 
  bronze settles down a bit and starts pawing at her hair, as if trying to 
  coax it along in getting drier.

Champion flickers out of /between/, and makes a quick sweep of the area.
Champion has arrived.

Torlin looks up as the brown blasts in. "Well, back finally, huh?" He notices 
  the icey look of Champion's hide. "Come here, you tyke, you." The lizard 
  obliges.
Torlin carries him to the hearth, and starts warming him, all the while 
  talking to him. "You should know better than that. Going between when you're 
  all wet, sheesh. It's a wonder that you're still with us." Torlin begins 
  sounding more and more like an old auntie...

Mehlani smiles a little; the boy and his brown seem almost the opposite of the 
  girl and her fussing bronze.

Champion isn't listening. His interest is directed toward the other pinkthing 
  in here. It doesn't take much imagination to interpret the looks he sends 
  Mehlani as flirting...

On Mehlani's shoulder, Holl cranes his bronze head around and peers 
  inquiringly over at that brown fellow over there. Who are you and what 
  business do you have with my human? << ? >>

Mehlani blinkblinks solemnly at the brown, still not uttering a word.

Champion slowly works through all the muscles in his body. Tighten, relax. 
  Tighten, relax. His eyes whip upwards, noticing the bronze. And nothing 
  more. He returns to his attempted flirt with the human.

Torlin is oblivious to all this happening. He is reaching for the oil pot in 
  his belt.

Gradually growing drier, Mehlani smiles at the brown, a brief little smile 
  that involves both ends of her mouth curling up for a moment. Her bronze 
  peers around the side of her head at this interloper, his eyes whirling 
  slightly yellowly as he tries to figure out exactly what the other fire 
  lizard thinks he wants.

Champion begins tilting his head from side to side, and even actually winks at 
  Mehlani. Then, he sends Holl a slight glare, and returns his eyes to where 
  they were before.

Torlin finally follows Champ's glance, and sees the target. He shoot a look at 
  the lizard, and grins. "He flirts with anything female," he explains.

The bronze on Mehlani's shoulder protectively curls a wing about the back of 
  her head, while the girl ohs softly, blushing a bit.

The brown Don Juan turns his attention to the bronze. He is in the way. His 
  eyes become red... Then a hand is laid over his head. "Relax, you punk! You 
  don't want to get in a fight over her, you hear?" Torlin's voice is both 
  soothing and commanding at once.

Mehlani takes a somewhat bemused step back and murmurs, "Oh dear," as Holl 
  chirps commandingly at the brown, in an unmisktable 'my girl!' tone.

Emlyn walks in from the bowl.
Emlyn has arrived.
Emlyn looks at you for a moment.

Torlin takes away the hand again. He deposits the brown on his shoulder. "I'm 
  sorry. He usually isn't that obnoxious. He's usually OK." He reaches forward 
  a hand. "I'm Torlin, and this li'l fellow is Champion."

Emlyn comes in with her brown firelizard perched on her shoulder. His tail is 
  wound tightly around her throat. She salutesthose riders who look her way, 
  then goes to get herself a glass of juice. She smells of firestone, and 
  there's a patina of ash over her gear.

Mehlani gravely accepts the offered hand, with a small one of her own, and 
  replies in her small soft voice, "My name is Mehlani." Her bronze chirples, 
  relaxing a bit. "He is Holl."

Emlyn brings her glass of juice to where the youngster and child are getting 
  aquainted. She smiles warmly as she takes a seat. "Hello."

Mehlani turns her head to Emlyn and bobs it, silently.

Torlin looks at the rider, nods and says, "Hello. Been practising with 
  firestone?"

Emlyn nods to the young man. "Yes. Another rope drill today." She sniffs the 
  sleeve of her jacket, then sneezes. The weyrling says, "That wasn't too 
  smart. Inhaling a nose full of ash."

Torlin winces. "Well, I hope there are up sides to dragonriding as well... I'm 
  Torlin, and this" he points to the girl "is Mehlani."

Emlyn extends her hand to Torlin and grins over at Mehlani. "I'm pleased to 
  meet you both. My name is Emlyn."

The young girl shyly acknowledges this with another nod, apparently content to 
  limit her responses to non-vocal ones, at least for now. On her shoulder, 
  her bronze resttles himself, more at ease now, and he lets off a brief croon.

Torlin accepts Emlyn's hand, smiling. Then his firelizard stirs. He sends it 
  one look. Not a pleased one. And the brown quiets down again, grumbling.

Emlyn sits back, her own firelizard extending his wings to remain balanced. 
  She answers Torlin's previous statement, saying, "Well, there are up sides. 
  Protecting the holds and crafts is a wonderful thing." She smiles and adds, 
  "Of course, there are many ways to serve, not just from the back of a 
  dragon."

Caitria walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Caitria has arrived.
Caitria wanders in from the inner cavern, her mostly-asleep-looking daughter 
  in her arms. "Hello, all."

Emlyn is sitting with Torlin and Mehlani. She smells of firestone and has ash 
  on her gear. The weyrling turns and salutes Caitria. "Afternoon, Tria! How's 
  the little one?"

Mehlani, rather more dry now than the last time Caitria saw her, bobs her head 
  solemnly at the Herder. The girl is standing by the hearth, and Holl, as 
  always, is perched proudly on her shoulder.

Torlin takes a sip from his mug of klah. He nods respectfully at Caitria.

Caitria winces just a bit. "Emlyn, I'm not a rider. If I hide my knot, will 
  you not salute me? And she's fine. Didn't chew on very many hides today." 
  She flickers a smile to Mehlani, and chuckles at the show of respect from 
  Torlin. She mutters to herself, "... not... sharding scary!"

Emlyn laughs quietly in answer to Tria's question. "No, I'd still salute you. 
  It's not the knot I'm showing respect, after all."

Caitria sighs heavily as she seats herself. "Flannery lied to me, then," she 
  says, her eyes twinkling with humor. "She said that weyrlings were told to 
  salute big knots."

Emlyn grins and lifts her glass. "Oh, well, we are taught that, as all 
  children are, I suspect." She looks to Torlin for confirmation, since the 
  young man is on the cusp of childhood still. The serious Mehlani gets an 
  inquisitive smile, too.

Mehlani nods her head, quite seriously.

Caitria ahhs. "Mehlani--that's right, I wanted to talk to you." She gets up 
  again, to sit closer to the girl. "I've been watching you with Tsornin; you 
  do very well with him, and he seems quite fond of you."

Torlin nods.

Kassima walks in from the bowl.
Kassima has arrived.

Emlyn salutes Kassima sharply when the greenrider arrives.

Mehlani blinkblinks and turns to Caitria, quirking her head a little.

Kassima strides into the Cavern with her usual long steps, though she's not 
  looking where she's going; her eyes are on a piece of hide that she holds, 
  and a stray stick of charcoal is tucked behind one ear. Even without seeing 
  Emlyn's salute, she returns it--one might almost think she saw that 
  coming--and nods to the rest before flopping inelegantly into her usual 
  seat. "Evening," she greets.

Caitria gently bounces Caidan as the infant starts to wake up a bit more. She 
  ponders waving the infant at Kassi...but no. That would be bad. She says to 
  Mehlani, once Caidan is a bit more settled, "I was wondering if you'd ever 
  thought to apprentice with the Herders."

Emlyn looks up with wide eyes at the mention of apprenticing. Then she grins 
  from ear to ear and looks at Mehlani.

Torlin looks at Mehlani with an appreciative smile.

Mehlani blinks a time or two, and murmurs softly, "Sometimes."

Caitria nods. "Ever talk to your folks about that?" she inquires, her tone 
  instinctively lowering to about the same volume as Mehlani's.

C'vadan walks in from the bowl.
C'vadan has arrived.
C'vadan returns from another glorious day of drills. He heads straight for the 
  juice pitcher.

Emlyn is facing the entryway. She salutes C'vadan sharply.

A male voice sounds from the inner caverns, "Torlin! Would you come down here?"

Mehlani replies with equal shy brevity, "Sometimes." Holl turns his head 
  around to peer fully at Caitria, now, his eyes whirling curiously at this 
  human who's focused her attention on his personal charge.

Torlin jumps to his feet, almost spilling his klah. "I've got to be going!"

Kassima tugs the charcoal from behind her ear--managing, as usual, to leave a 
  streak of black dust across one cheekbone in the process--and jots down a 
  few quick words on her hide, then hrms, brow furrowed. "Nay, nay," she 
  mutters to herself. "That just doesn't work. But mayhaps if I substituted 
  'pants' right about *here*...." Scribble, scribble. "Ugh, that's worse than 
  'twas a'fore! Afternoon, Cav, sir." She salutes the Wingsecond sharply, if a 
  bit preoccupiedly.

Emlyn is listening to Tria speak with Mehlani about apprenticing.

C'vadan returns Emlyn's salute with a smile, then takes his cup, as well as 
  the pitcher of juice, over to where Caitria is sitting.

Torlin walks quickly down the hall.
Torlin walks towards the inner cavern.
Torlin has left.

C'vadan smiles at Kassima. "Whatcha doing?" he asks the greenrider.

Champion flies up, chirrups once, and then disappears into /between/.
Champion has left.

Caitria gives the bronze an amused look, then inquires, flickering a grin to 
  Cav, "What was their reaction?"

Kassima sighs, pushing her hide away from her to regard it all at once. 
  "Trying to write another song-like-thing," she explains, tapping the notes 
  that she's scripted. "It gives me something to do. But I'm nay having much 
  success." She frowns at the hapless hide, as if it were somehow at fault.

Emlyn smells of firestone and has ash on her flight gear. She looks tired, but 
  is listening to both conversations now.

C'vadan downs his first cup of juice and pours another.

Jalimax has connected.

Emlyn asks Kassima, "What sort of song are you writing?"

Another greenrider at Thunderbolt table answers, "Scary ones."

"Comic," Kassi admits, scanning over the hide. "I try to be comic in most of 
  m'songs--the one about K'nan and his kilt, or the greenriders, or any of 
  those. This one's about all the colors of riders, though the brown and 
  greenrider verses are a bit short... and I can't decide which greenrider 
  verse to use. K'nan gave me some help with this one--he suggested one, but 
  there's another that I like better."

Emlyn shots the quipping greenrider a grin, then listens to Kassima's answer. 
  She asks, "Are these verses based on particular riders?" She nods toward 
  C'vadan. "Him, for example?"

Kassima mock-glares at the other greenrider. "They're nay so frightening as 
  *some* songs I could name, y'know--including the tune that I could've 
  *sworn* I heard B'fus seranading you with from your ledge last night. You 
  want to talk *scary*...." She gives a mock-shudder, then shakes her head at 
  Emlyn. "Nay, just riders in general. Though a song about particular riders 
  mightn't be a bad idea... I mentioned a few specific ones in the song Meli 
  and I sang at the Festival, but there weren't enough verses to get as many 
  names in as I'd have liked."

Caitria sees that Mehlani is distracted, and uhohs quietly at the mention of 
  Kassi and songs in the same sentence.

Jalimax waves as he comes wandering in. "Heya ya'll."

Mehlani, if anything, is looking rather daunted at the influx of grownups. She 
  eyes the departure of Torlin askance, and takes a step closer to the hearth, 
  fallen silent, perhaps unsure whether she ought to be talking with all the 
  other conversation going on.

C'vadan mutters to Caitria, "... a rather... person, much... her father.... 
  she... make a... Herder..."

Emlyn listens to Kassima. She tells the greenrider, "Do you know, I don't 
  think I've ever heard you sing."

The greenrider chuckles, amused by the return-shot Kassima sent at him. "She 
  can't," he tells the weyrling.

Caitria hms at her weyrmate's words, shoulders lifting in a slight shrug. 
  "Perhaps," she says, sounding somewhat noncommital.

The way Emlyn's lips quirk indicates either she found this quip hilarious or 
  she just had an attack of gas.

"You're mistaking me for Wingsecond Ryialla again," Kassi retorts to the 
  greenrider, a grin cracking through her somewhat frustrated expression. 
  "Everyone does that, and I can't imagine why. I could sing something for you 
  now, Emlyn, if'n y'liked, but 'twould hardly be kind of me to ask certain 
  people to endure such a thing."

The greenrider smiles. "Thank you," he says sincerely to Kassima, with a large 
  grin.

Emlyn laughs and says to Kassima, "Maybe for the sake of your friendships we 
  should wait for another time, Kassi."

Kassima's glare at the greenrider this time is a little more sincere, too, 
  though she does seem slightly amused. "I'm nay *that* bad," she insists 
  stubbornly. "Ask Tria. Tria, you remember that song about the bovines that I 
  wrote, don't you? Was it all *that* bad?"

Caitria grins broadly. "It was a work of art, Kassi. Absolutely hysterical."

Emlyn perks up. "A song about bovines?"

Caitria nods to Emlyn. "You should hear it." She pauses a moment. 
  "Well....maybe not."

C'vadan smirks and downs another cup of juice.

The greenrider pushes ahead. "You're nay a Harper, either, Kassi," he says, 
  smiling to show he's just playing around.

Kassima makes a face and grumbles, "Fine, fine. So the whole Weyr thinks I'm a 
  terrible singer... have it your way." Shaking her head, she does reply to 
  Emlyn, "Aye, bovines--oh. Oh, I think I see what you mean, Tria. Mayhaps 
  you're right; Emlyn, I doubt you'd care for the song."

Jalimax smiles at Kassi, "You're not a terrible singer."

Emlyn has that uncertain look one gets when you expect something funny but get 
  something slightly different. She nods and manages a smile. "Okay, Kassima." 
  Emlyn leans forward, gets the pitcher of juice and refills her mug.

Mehlani looks timidly from face to face and finally, silently, sits down on 
  the floor by the hearth.

The greenrider blinks, not really expecting the results that he got. He smiles 
  placatingly and says, "I'm sorry. I was just joking around."

Rosalen walks here from the Inner Cavern.
Rosalen has arrived.

Emlyn salutes Rosalen when she arrives. "Afternoon, Ma'am."

Kassima chuckles wryly at Jali. "Didn't know as that you'd ever heard me sing, 
  Jali... well, Em, if'n you want to hear me sing some other time, just name 
  the place and tune. If'n you'd rather nay subject your ears to one of my 
  compositions, I can't say that I can entirely blame you." Smiling 
  sheepishly, she turns her head to nod to the greenrider. "Ach, 'tis all 
  right; I know 'twas so. And I suppose you're as likely right as nay at that."

Mehlani, after a time, timidly slips out.

[End log.]