Last tithe train of the turn (All Fort Weyr)

[Free play!]

The winter was almost come, the days grown short and chilly, so the last of the year's tithe trains was passing through, having come from Fort Hold itself, with traders who'd stocked their carts and wagons full of tithes and other goods that would help the Weyr winterize themselves for the coming cold. The wagons, all in a half-moon formation, would open make-shift stalls for laying out all their wares that were not included in the last tithes. It was always possible that there were those who looked for a little something extra, a gift or to trade something of their own, so it was worth the effort to bring extra wagons fully loaded, just in case. 

On this particular day, the weather was hazy with mist, but not yet raining; and the temperatures hadn't dropped low enough yet to let the water on the ground start freezing. Still, with clouds overcast, it was a bit dreary, but with limited time in which to make their purchases and trades, there was a good turn out of customers. Or at least those who wanted to browse. 


Draped in a long overcoat, much like an old duster, a lone figure sat perched on a barrel between a couple of the wagons, just beyond the stalls that had been erected. His complexion was dark, and his skin well-weathered, so it wasn't likely that he appeared the most approachable sort. He wore no scarf about his neck, but it was apparent that he'd come at least moderately layered in preparation for the cool weather. The boots he wore were crusted in mud, the thick leather of which appeared cracked and worn enough that they must have been about ready to deteriorate. 

Half-hunched, the figure kept one foot propped up on a stool below him, his wary eyes on the lookout -or perhaps only curious about the crowd that began to gather. Either way, there were only two people that he was interested in meeting that day; and he hardly knew what either of them looked like. He'd have to get to asking.




(and specific tags @Keket or her aunt for a plotty thing)

It had been several months since Keket had Impressed her lovely Green Passerith, and the dragonet had grown exponentially since then. She would never be a massive dragon, like a Gold, but she was still going to be average sized, and it was already starting to show. It was a rare occurrence when Keket was physically separated from her dragon, but it was a rare time that day. The only reason Passerith was not with the young woman was because the girl had gone to visit her aunt first. There was a constant mental contact, the green curled up a bit pitifully inside their room, staring with nervous, whirling eyes at the doorway.

Keket had gone to see Hylee, and the woman had invited the girl to come with as the last tithe came in. At first, Passerith had questioned if she could come now, and Keket had shared the chill in the air. The green had considered, before deciding to try and be brave and stay inside their safe, warm room. Wandering the stalls with the woman that had raised her, Keket hummed idly under her breath. Reddish hair was back in a loose braid, a strap holding it more in place around her forehead as she idly glanced over the stalls. Being a Weyrling, she didn’t really have much in the way of marks, but it was fun to look.

Hylee, on the other hand, was on the hunt for something particular she wanted. Keket followed her aunt, passing a few stalls, her gaze hovering across a few with interesting wares, before scanning over a man on some barrels. He looked a bit worn out, and since he didn’t seem to be selling, she moved on, ”Aunt Hylee, what were you looking for again?” The slightly portly woman shrugged, ”A few replacement things that are of a bit higher quality than the general stores. I’m glad to be able to spend with with you, dear, it’s so rare now days.” Keket grinned warmly at her mother-figure.

”You know Passerith takes all my time. But I’m glad too…” She glanced over a display of elaborate and fancy combs. The older woman browsed one setup, before raising a hand and calling out, ”Keket! Come see this.” The Weyrling thanked the vendor for the display, and went to see what her aunt had spotted.

The weathered man's eyes followed idly after several individuals before overhearing someone call the name of one of women he happened to be in search of. Could the day really have been filled with so much luck? He'd hardly set out on his quest and the prize seemed to already have appeared before him. Of course, finding the women he was looking for, was only half the trick.

The man's eyes darted through the crowd until they located the source of the voice who'd called, meeting Keket's gaze only briefly as she and her aunt passed. Watching after them a moment longer, he then turned his eyes away, casually rising from the barrel on which he sat, and adjusting the belt at his hips as he did so. 

Letting the women get ahead of him, he kept tabs on their whereabouts, not wanting to seem too eager to approach them; though it may be expected, given that they were surrounded by merchants more than willing to haggle a price to make a sale.  Passing behind one of the carts to sidle up beside one of the merchants, he was soon poised near the fine combs and dangling hair-ornaments so that he could address the two women.

"Something in particular I can help you ladies find? You both look to be on the hunt for something special."

When the man smiled, his face dimpled and crows feed around his eyes deepened, but his countenance had softened. His voice too, was not unwelcoming, even if by all other appearances he may have seemed a rough fellow. But certainly appearances could lie.

Hylee had paused near another vendor selling various ornaments, and had called Keket’s attention over, ”Hun, this would look lovely in your hair.” The wolder woman had always tried to get Keket to dress finer than she did. Not that she didn’t spruce herself up sometimes, but the girl had usually been more interested in comfort than looks. Granted, if one could do both, why not? But in her experience, such frippery usually was more trouble than it was worth just to look fancy. But she obliged, and eyed the slightly complicated looking dangly thing in her aunt’s hand. And not for the first time, the girl was glad of an easy excuse.

”Oh, that’s very pretty, Aunt. But I think Passerith might be afraid of it, it’s so jingly seeming.” She smiled and admired the ornament before gently laying it back on the table. ”something in particular I can help you ladies find? You both look to be on the hunt for something special.” The voice was not unpleasant, and the Weyrling turned with her Aunt to face the rugged looking man that she had noticed on the barrel.

”Good day. I’m not, but my Aunt may be…” Hylee eyed the man suspiciously, before shrugging it, ”Whatever you’re selling, we might be interested. I’m after specific sewing supplies, and perhaps a new set of personal knives.” The slightly plump woman had a no nonsense tone, her gaze firm on the man. Keket eyed him curiously, but remained quiet. She wasn’t really shopping, but if something jumped out at her, that she could afford, who knew?

"Ah."  The man was leaning onto his palms over the makeshift counter behind the display of hair combs, so as Keket answered him, mentioning personal knives, his eyes fell to her belt, idly scanning for what kind of blade she already wore; if any any all. 

Spying the end of her knife though, there at her side, he motioned for her, "Sewing supplies will be down the way here, a bit, but let me see here what you are replacing. Are you looking for something that is similar to what you already have?"

Hylee glanced at the man, ”I’m after more cooking knives, not personal knives. Keket, don’t you have an old thing, though? Here, let me just go look at those supplies, I’ll be back.” The Weyrling opened her mouth to say something as her Aunt wandered in the designated direction, but the girl realized she was on her own. Shifting a little, she turned back to the man.

He seemed friendly enough, but this wasn’t her first market, and she eyed him briefly before reaching and pulling her knife out. It was very true, it had definitely seen better days. The blade was sharp, but barely held its edge anymore, and the metal was pockmarked and dented in a few places.

She offered it to the man, letting him have a closer look. A tendril of thought as Passerith sent a little worry thread at her, just missing her, etc. Keket smiled inwardly and sent love back towards her slightly pouting green.

The man nodded, seeing Keket's Aunt off, as she turned from them to look for the other supplies they were in need of. But, as soon as the girl shifted back in his direction, offering up the dinged blade, his attention was all for her. Now that the woman Haylee had confirmed the girl's identity, he knew that this was the very person he had been hoping to find. All the luck of Faranth was with him today!

"Mmm. I see." Grinning across the display, the man scrutinized the condition of the blade and guessed at its original value, but kept most of his thoughts to himself.

"It has certainly seen better days, lass. It's definitely time to get a new one." Looking up to meet the girl's eyes, his expression softened on her ever more, as read the suspicion in her eyes. Not that most customers might not be suspicious of a merchant trying to haggle them for the best sale possible, so he couldn't be sure if her feeling was any different.

"If you'll let me keep it for a candlemark or two, I'll have it sharpened and treated for you. No charge." Guessing that her suspicion may have only deepened then, if she wasn't a naturally trusting person, he grinned, going on to explain himself. "You're right though, if you're wondering what an old man like me could want in return." 

Winking a blue eye at her, he paused, only to reach into a pocket for something. Procuring a piece of folded parchment with a name and place of residence scrawled upon it, he waved it in the air between index and middle finger, as he prepared to toss a proposition at her. "Honestly, I don't know anyone here who's brought personal belt knives with them to vendor, though there are some that came with the tithe. I have a friend though, who lives in Telgar and specializes in the trade of knives and metal-wares. If you contact him directly, I'm sure you could get a good price out of him for a blade of better quality and design, that may last you a good while longer than the ones you'll find here. 

"Anyway, if you're wondering, every time I send him business, he tends to feel more generous the next time we meet to trade. I get better deals too, that way." With a laugh, he passed the folded parchment over to her, certain that she would be inclined to take it. "You'd really be helpin' me out. Though, I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help to you today, young Miss. But if you'd like, I'll keep my word and have this knife back to you when you return."

It wasn’t that she was outright suspicious, but it was more in her nature to not trust someone right off the bat. She wasn’t judging his slightly grungy appearance, it was more that she had dealt with merchants before, and she knew from experience that they often just saw a pretty face. But besides the normal mistrust between seller and buyer, she found she had an odd feeling about this man. Perhaps it was his appearance. Could she truly be judging? That thought alarmed her enough that she forced herself to relax and pay him polite attention as he inspected her beat up blade.

As he offered to have it sharpened and cleaned up for free, she had to quirk a brow. But she remained politely listening, even if the offer was a bit suspicious. Wasn’t he here to make money? As he reached into a pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, she automatically accepted it. Unfolding it, she glanced down at the name and address, before looking back up at him. Was it worth it to her to write and order a new knife like this? Her brown eyes slid to the one the man was holding, analyzing how much she used it, how long she’d had it, and its current saddened state.

At the explanation that the man kicks him a deal, it all made sense, and she had to smile lightly. ”Well, I thank you for the offer, and I’ll take you up on it. I can return in a while. And I’ll consider writing your colleague. My current knife has…as you can see…seen better days.” She tucked the parchment into her own pocket, before extending her hand to offer a shake.

The man's eyes brightening as Keket promised to take his offer, he reached to take her hand with a shake. 

"Alright, young Miss. You do me that favour and I'll get this old thing back to you by the time you and your mother are done shopping." After straightening himself, releasing her hand, he went back to a scrupulous inspection of her knife again, quirking a brow over it. 

"You know this thing is almost as haggard looking as I am." Letting out a belly laugh because he knew what  turns of sun and exposure to the elements did to a man's appearance, he took her knife and turned to get to work on it.

"Alright, I better get to work on this. Come back later, lass."

Galaeanyss sat on the rear of one of the wagons. Chin resting on cupped palms, she watched as the men did their thing. It went more or less the same as every other quick-set-up marketplace that she had seen of late. She had spent quite a bit of time over recent Turns tagging along with caravans. They got her from Crom to Fort in a reasonable amount of time. 'Reasonable' being an adaptive word. It often took a number of Sevendays to make the journey; it was not a small stretch of land to cross and they did make frequent stops to peddle their wares. She could have requested travel via Dragon. It was within her rights given her station but they were a grouchy lot. Given their promiscuous nature, she doubted that they would be as understanding as traders were of a committed relationship like the one that she had with Kier. They would probably complain that making so many trips was a frivolous and a waste of their time. She opted to save what favor she could muster for a date when it would be more handy. So, she traveled by ground. Long and boring but it got the job done just the same.

The Junior Lady eavesdropped over a conversation between so scruffy looking fellow, a fat chick, and a younger lass who held the pompous poise of a Dragonrider. Eavesdropping was her primary pastime during these little excursions. This one played out a bit more dubious than most, which was not to say that she had not seen her fill of unscrupulous behavior because she had. This one was just a bit more overt than most. Secret notes and cryptic exchanges. They were either bad at their job or one had to be blunt enough for the other to get the gist. Either way, it seemed like as good of an event to insert herself in to as any other.

Galaeanyss slipped off the edge of the wagon. The cold hardened ground issued a crackle as her booted feet touched down. It was cool there, the season and the location handled that, but it was only a tad nippy for one who grew up along the edge of the Northern tundra. Still, she tugged the hood of her cloak over her head, careful not to pull her hair free from its bun. The hood was not so much to protect her from the weather as it was to keep her identity under wraps. She had not had the best of experiences when it came to dealing with Rider types: that one vile brute of a Greenrider, and of course her sissy brother. Neither were at the top of her list of favored folk. She got along well enough with Fort's Weyrwoman. Arrogant, bossy, took pleasure in showing others their place. Yes, the Junior Lady rank showed through rather clearly in Karene. Still, it was best not to intrude upon her good graces if it could be avoided.

Nyssa around the misaligned stalls that stood as a barrier between the people that she had been watching and herself. She came to stand next to and slightly behind Keket. "Traders gifting their services," she said. "You don't see that level of etiquette breach often."




OOC: Looking for somewhere to put Nyssa. This looks like it would work. (^__^)

After shaking the man’s hand neatly, she turned to find her aunt. The older woman had wandered towards some of the smaller goods selling vendors, such as the needles she had been looking for. Some sort of special curved ones or something, Keket couldn’t remember the exact term for them. Then again, she had never been much of a weaver.

It was as she turned that she heard a voice, and realized that a girl had come up beside, and slightly behind her. So the Weyrling turned and met the girls gaze evenly, ”I didn’t realize there was a particular etiquette for offering deals. Hello, by the way.” Keket glanced the girl over, wondering where she had appeared from.

The glance wasn’t judging, it was more curious, and she tilted her head a bit, ”I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Keket, Impressed to Green Passerith. Did you come in with the caravan?”

((OOC: Just because, Crom + something I'llium would do, with watching out for strangers and the innocent girls they decide to speak with... lol))

Having helped unload the tithed goods with the other weyrlings assigned to do so, I'llium was taking a moment to wander around the stalls.  Not that he really had any marks to spend-- he'd left most of what he last earned at Crom back at his parents' cothold, figuring they'd be able to put it to use more than he could at the Weyr.  But it was a quiet day, nonetheless, to enjoy being outside for a bit before returning to lessons.  Even if it was overcast and dreary.

The weather didn't bother him, nor did the crowd.  But something in him was ever-vigilant, keeping an eye out for potentially unsavory characters, or those who might be looking to cause trouble.  It was habit now to do so, after the turns he spent as a guardsman.  Oh, he tried to rein it in, tried not to let Borsaioloth catch on, but given the strength of their bond, it was difficult to keep the blue from picking up on his emotions, if not his thoughts.

Like now, when he spotted Keket and the man she was conversing with.  A normal enough looking trader, though I'llium still sensed something was slightly off.  He just couldn't put his finger on it.  He was certainly a man to keep an eye on… just in case.

You see something?

No.  It's probably nothing.

But Borsaioloth knew him better than that.  I should come there and help you look.

No, you will be too obvious.  Remember, I told you, keeping an eye on people means staying in the background where they can't tell you are watching them.

With a sigh, Borsaioloth let it go for the moment.  Next time, he'd be the one spying on people, instead of his rider.  He could be not-obvious, too!

*Bump to keep it from disappearing from the Tracker*

Galaeanyss hoped that her explanation would be adequate. It had better be because it was the only one that she was planning on giving out. For one, it was the truth; she had booked passage with the caravan. While her rank did entitle her to use of Dragon Travel for official business, some Weyrs were less inclined to do that on a regular basis than others were. Some did not consider love-affairs to be official business, either. She did. That was most of her job and by 'most' she meant the non-boring parts that she had not brushed off on Tlina. That left her the job to work toward a betrothal and the acquisition of a Full Lady title that she deserved through birth and sheer perfection of person. It was coming any day now, she certain. Keir was so obviously totally head-over-heels for her that she doubted his ability to hold out much longer. Then Fort would be hers, all hers. Well, as soon as she figured out how to get his parents out of the picture. But one step a time.

Before she managed to get her mental number list to 'for two' she caught a prodding in the back of her mind. She stopped speaking to Keket, her attention drawn away. She got those weird feelings from time to time. It was her mind power poking at her. She did not understand what it was beyond that vague discription. It was whatever that ability was that gave someone Dragonrider potential. Supposedly that stuff ran in bloodlines. Her brother had it. She did, too, but apparently not strongly as he did because only of them had been chosen to be a Candidate and that had not been her. Still, she learned to listen to it when nagged at her.

Galaeanyss pivoted to the side on the balls of her feet. Her eyes scanned from beneath her hood the people gather about. They shifted from face to face to face until her eyes locked on to I'llium's. He was paying more attention to the two women than he should have been. Perhaps he was in league with the man guised as the trader. That would mean that he was probably trouble. She did not care much for trouble when she was not the one making it. It usually did not work out too well for her.


OOC: Sooo, I waited two and a half months. I guess I'll go ahead and skip Slasher.

#keket, #Illium

I'llium didn't immediately recognize the figure once she spun around, the length of time since he'd been at Crom having been long enough that a few details were hazy, and her shape disguised by her cloak.  But once he realized who it was that was staring at him, he had to wonder just what the young Lady Galaeanyss was doing at the Weyr.  Especially in close quarters with the trader caravan.

Had she arrived with it?  Why would she come to the Weyr?  Was she in hiding?  The cloak suggested so-- why would she want to disguise herself so?  Was she coming to surprise her brother, possibly?

The former guardsman knew who N'kyr was, though he'd seldomly interacted with the bronzerider.  But given what he knew about Crom's daughter, he doubted she was here to gift her sibling with her mere presence.

His mind running in several directions at once, he scanned the crowd again, looking for the trader, and for anyone else who might be from Crom.  Or for anyone else who looked suspicious.

What about that one, in the green cloak?  Or that one, with the red hair?

No, Borsaioloth, I'llium chided, attempting to put a stop to the blue's excitement.  Clearly, he needed to be far more careful with his thoughts.

For now, though, he thought it might be prudent to find out what Lady Galaeanyss was up to.  Striding forward, he gave a dutiful bow once he reached her and Keket.  "My lady, you are looking well.  I hope the traders have not been giving you any trouble?"

Not that he could necessarily do anything about it… but perhaps she'd been trying to warn his classmate off of the man they'd been conversing with?