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Post by dragon on May 24, 2009 12:19:06 GMT -5
Sick of being stuck, and with an irritating itch that needed scratching, C'oar broke a few rules handed to him by the healers. His thigh and arm had mended well, no longer bandaged. So had all his bruises. But his tendon was still terribly tender and weak, making him for a rather slow moving person. But at least he could move. His ankle was stoutly wrapped up to keep him from flexing the joint, but that was ok.
He had shunned the crutches offered him, electing instead to use a stout staff. He preferred it anyway. And something else they had forbidden him: dragonriding. Well, that was not something he liked, either. For long distances (which meant anything more than ten feet) C'oar much prefered the less stressing and far faster method of travel that was atop Frosstyth's shoulders. And he'd even devised a really interesting way of getting back down without hurting himself. It usually involved rolling to one side, and then sliding down the proffered wing of his loyal, trusty brown. Like a long slide, until he made it to the bottom, landing on his good leg. From there, he merely stood up, and hobbled off.
And in this fashion, he had made it all the way to the gather at Selenitas hold. He'd really wanted to go to Hyphen hold instead, but Frosstyth had protested - that was a much longer flight, especially since the young brown was not supposed to be betweening yet. So, to the gather they went, instead of to the family forge where he knew he could get what he wanted.
Here? He'd have to just hope they had what he wanted. And so, leaving Frosstyth to loll in the feild outside the gather square, C'oar had started his slow, gimpy trek toward the Smith's stall. The music, smells of pies and drippy meats, laughter and gaity were completely lost on the young man. He had a mission in mind. And only after it was accomplished was he going to be distracted in the slightest.
He needed a sword. A real one. A sharp one.
At least he didn't stick out too terribly, other than being a gimp with a staff. He had dressed propper for the occassion. Though still in the typical sleeveless tunic that he tended toward, it was at least a nice one. With finished edges, instead of looking like he'd ripped the sleeves off. And in dark brown to match Frosstyth's hide, it was edged in red stitching. Not fancy, but at least presentable. His trousers were of a grey cut, that merely fit well and (miraculously) were clean with no weird spots on them. He wore the one leg over the top of his restraining cast, and as such mostly hiding it. He'd also wrapped the rest of the cast in some light leather, to protect it from being scuffed to bits, while his other foot was in the typical boot that he used to wear.
For the moment, Storm had elected to stay with Frosstyth, rather put out that C'oar didn't like him trying to ride on the top end of the staff...
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Post by nightingale on May 24, 2009 20:49:34 GMT -5
Mine, I have found Frosstyth. His must not be far away.
Saeo lifted her eyes from the bubbly pie she had been picking at, drawing a curious look from the boy seated beside her. “Is Cherilith talking?” He asked. There was only a vague curiosity in his voice, but he couldn’t disguise the wonder flickering in his dark green eyes. “Yeah.” She told him simply, licking strawberry filling from her thumb as she scanned the crowd. With a gentle prompt from her bonded, Freckle lifted her head from Saeo’s hood and flashed a picture of C’oar into the boy’s mind. Brownpest. She told him solemnly, blinking her bug eyes less than mysteriously. The boy blinked back at her, then nodded awkwardly and set his focus on another area of the crowd.
The girl set her pie down on the stair next to her and stood, brushing sand and grit from her dark leggings. She wasn’t dressed in the most Gather worthy of outfits –her attire consisting of a grey jumper, a black sweater and dark mahogany riding boots- but it was new and easy to move around in. Maneuverability was important when you were racing on dragonback to beat a fugitive brownrider to a Gather with your younger brother in tow, and it allowed her to conceal a small dagger on her thigh just in case things got rough. Freckle felt very important and mysterious riding about in her new hiding place, and was making a game of squawking at anyone who approached them from behind. Baby had long since gone to seek adventure among the stalls and musicians lining the hold corridors, and she could tell that he was enjoying himself immensely.
Frosstyth! There you are! Cherilith keened as he spotted his clutch brother, and angled his wings for a landing. The young blue touched down at a swift trot, folding his wing against his back as he made his way across the clearing. We have been waiting for you! Did yours forget that he is not supposed to fly until his leg is better? No matter –we saw you were leaving the Weyr and guessed that this is where you were headed. I did not think it would take you so long to get here…I suppose I must be rather fast then! He crooned happily, clearly pleased at having won their unofficial race. Could you please tell yours that Mine is looking for…oh, nevermind. She has found him.
Actually, Freckle was the one who had spotted him. The little green shrieked with triumph and threw herself gracelessly from the hood she had been using as camouflage. She landed in a rather undignified heap, but a moment later she was off and skittering toward someone nearly hidden by the crowd. When pressed, she offered up an image to her bonded. “Got him.” Saeo sighed, motioning for her brother to follow as she threaded her way through the crowd after Freckle. MINE BROWNPEST! FRECKLE MINE BAD BADPEST MINE!! The salamandyr unceremoniously dug her claws into the fabric of C’oar’s pant leg and –lacking the grace to climb any higher- clung on for dear life. Saeo arrived shortly thereafter, and stood with folded arms directly in his path. Her brother stood a pace behind her, still unsure of what his role was in this particular mission but egger to back her up any way he could. “Alright, feel free to make a lame excuse.” She sighed, raising an eyebrow at the brownweyrling. This was going to be good…
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Post by dragon on May 25, 2009 2:32:43 GMT -5
C'oar pulled up short when his leg was assaulted by a rather familiar looking little green pest-thing. Oh, shards. He'd been caught. Saeo couldn't be far behind. Or very far at all for that matter. He took a glance around, and saw her coming, followed by someone else ... someone he'd never ever seen before. Who was this? He took a moment to stoop and peel Freckle off his leg. "Hello, greenpest." He said, straightening as Saeo planted herself before him.
He handed her Freckle. "Here, I think you lost this." He said, rather nonchalantly. And then he grinned at her when she blasted him with her question. "What? It has to be lame? I can't have an inventive one?" C'oar asked, before his gaze flickered over toward the lad following her around. Hm ... she'd picked a younger one to be her consort, this time. He vaguely wondered where she'd dug him up ... and whether or not he was a local.
"Actually ..." C'oar trailed off, knowing that no matter what he said, she was going to tear it to ribbons.
Frosstyth rolled upright again, up from sprawling on his side in the sun. Storm squawked in indignation as he tumbled head over tail off of the brown's head and onto the grass in the process. Tucking his legs beneath him, Frosstyth swung his head around to regard his smaller brother. I didn't forget. But it was better than letting him walk ... and I think he would have, too. He's rather intent. And here was a lot closer than where he wanted to go. And ... well ... I was kinda taking my time in getting here. I didn't see any point in rushing. You guessed well, if by accident. I had to do some prodding to come here, instead of going to Hyphen. That is a long ways away! the brown grouched, before taking on a lighter tone. Are you and yours having fun sneaking about the place and hunting? I bet it's hard, finding anyone in that crowd over there... And yes, little brother. You are fast! Frosstyth agreed, rather readily.
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Post by nightingale on May 26, 2009 1:20:31 GMT -5
Brownpest bad yuck! Freckle grouched as she was disentangled, snapping at the boy’s fingers despite the fact that she was in no position to actually reach them. Saeo accepted the squirming green, pulling her back quickly so she couldn’t get any ideas about going in for the kill. The salamandyr trilled angrily as her bonded placed her on her shoulder, but quickly decided that C’oar wasn’t worth a full-on frontal assault and returned her lookout post nestled in the hood of her jumper. Saeo eyed her friend skeptically, placing one hand on her hip as she waited for him to answer her question. When none came, she rolled her eyes and sighed. “What part of ‘Don’t ride Frosstyth until the cast comes off because you might ruin your leg forever’ was so hard to understand when I first told it to you? I’d be glad to go into detail, really. Just tell me where to begin.”
She noticed the brownweyrling looking past her, and suddenly remembered that her brother was with her. The boy was half-concealed behind her left shoulder, peering awkwardly up at the older boy. He was just under Saeo’s height, but considering that the girl was rather short to begin with he was far from an imposing figure. He was dressed inexpensively but immaculately in dark greens, browns and white linen. “Oh, C’oar this is my younger brother Amone of Selenitas Hold.” Saeo explained her expression softening slightly as she laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder and nudged him forward. Amone glanced toward her briefly, his face anxious before returning his attention to C’oar. “Good afternoon…" He offered weakly, giving his head a small, polite nod. "Sorry, I’m acting a bit of a fool. I didn’t expect you to be so…big.”
“So what are you here for?” Saeo asked, folding her arms over her chest and casting him a barbed look. She wasn’t willing to play nice just yet, but the blueweyrling had already decided that she wasn’t going to take him back to the Weyr. What would that accomplish anyway, apart from making both of them miserable? There was no sense in wasting a good Gather now that they found themselves in the middle of it, and she had quite hoped to see her sister’s new baby before they left. Spending a candlemark or two wandering now that she had established C’oar hadn’t done himself another injury couldn’t do any harm. Her only regret was that she had left her new Gather dress back at the Weyr…well, she would have been cold wearing it anyway.
Yours would really have walked all the way to Hyphen? Cherilith asked, his eye ridges arcing incredulously. But that is so far! I am not sure that even I would want to fly so far from home. The young blue really could picture C’oar making the trek on foot, though the image was not a pleasant one. Silly boy! It as a good thing that Frosstyth was there to make sure he didn’t do anything too silly for his own good! Freckle is enjoying the sneaking parts. He crooned amiably, settling down in the grass next to his larger brother. My Saeo seems happy just to be here. Did you know that she was clutched at this Hold? We are going to fly over her house later, and she is going to show me her storybooks! Would you like to come with us?
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Post by dragon on May 26, 2009 12:37:26 GMT -5
C'oar chuckled breifly, the foreign sound coming off a great deal like rolling thunder. "Oh, I understood it perfectly. Which is why I was very carefull when I did it. And Frosstyth also understands, so, he helped me out a lot. Besides ... riding him was a lot better than walking all this far." He explained. "Besides ... it's good to get out. And no, you don't have to reiterate all that speil again. I remember it from last time." He shook his head, before his attention came to rest on the boy again.
He listened to Saeo's introduction, and then a brow ooched its way upward. First a little and then a deal more. "Goodday." He greeted, in turn. Didn't know he was so big? That implied that the lad knew of him. And how would he know that? He was pretty sure Saeo didn't go around talking about him. Well ... take that back. Considering she was a healer now, she probably was boasting about all her acheivements in patching people up ... him included. Though C'oar was also interested to find Saeo had a brother. Somehow, as silly as the notion had been, he'd never really thought about her having a family at all. "Nice to meet you, Amone. I'm C'oar." Shifting his staff to his other hand, he offered the proper one for greeting the lad as if he were an equal.
C'oar considered Saeo again, for a moment, not at all perturbed by the barbs she kept throwing at him. He'd started out with pretty thick skin, and after hanging around her through thier candidacy and subsequent weyrlinghood, he'd gotten quite used to her ways, skin only getting thicker for it. "What am I here for? Why, I'm here to put you off your rocker, why else would I do something so foolish?" He commented, sarcastically, with a slight grin, before continuing. "Seriously, though. I'm going to buy a sword. I'd prefer to make it myself, but that doesn't look to be happening any time soon. And having one sooner rather than later is in my plans. So that next time I am better equipped." Next time. Oh, yes, it was not a delusion in anyone's mind, so far as he knew. There was going to be a next time. So long as Benden existed, there was going to be a next time. "After that? I may see about one of those blue pies." He shrugged his shoulders, leaning on his staff again to get more of his not inconsiderable weight off his feet. With his free hand, he gestured at her. "What's with the hood?"
Frosstyth huffed, and shifted his limbs around him, reaching over to nudge his blutch brother affectionately. Mine is ... determined. Persistant. Yes, I think he would have walked all that far. Or caught a wagon ride for part of it. I know he would have found a way to get there, regardless of what I did. I convinced him to come here instead, though, because it was closer. Even if what he wanted would be far more expensive, having to buy it instead of make it. Mine wants ... he ... The dragon huffed again. He wants a toadsticker. he commented. Though why he wants to stick toads, I don't know. Unless he was insinuating that Bendenites were toads? He says it's for using in the next attack. And as silly as his could be sometimes, Frosstyth surely was not going to let him do it the hard way that would surely hurt him, no. He would take care of his, even if it meant irritating the snot out of the healers in the meantime. It was the lesser of two evils, so far as the Brown could tell.
Freckle is sneaking? Oh my. What is she sneaking up on? I pity whatever she pounces upon! If she doesn't kill it through might, she will kill it by fright when it sees her! Frosstyth commented, mostly in jest, but with real concern over whom the vicious mandyr might be stalking.
No, I didn't! That is interesting! I wonder if mine knows that ... mine says he is from Hyphen ... or, from that area. I am not sure. Storybooks! Oh! What is in storybooks? I would like to come ... but I do not know if mine would go. Or of yours would let him... Frosstyth mused, cramming his own snout into his own upturned forefoot and scrubbing it industriously. Failing to scratch the itch, he sneezed violently. Which startled Storm into between.
The flitter reappeared over C'oar, and chittered a scolding back in the direction of Frosstyth, before landing neatly on his pet's spacious shoulder. At that point, the flitter noticed Saeo, Freckly, and Amone. Tilting his head, he cheeped with interest. Who was this new one? That was littler than Saeo?
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Post by nightingale on May 27, 2009 23:49:53 GMT -5
With every moment that passed, Saeo was finding it more and more difficult to continue glaring at her friend. A tiny smile managed to break past her defenses, and once it was free it quickly spread over her face and removed any lingering displeasure. She would have liked to chew him out, but couldn't really blame him for doing something she probably would have done herself –granted, she was quite certain that if she was the one trying to vanish, nobody would have seen her leave.
She tilted her head and watched for a moment as Amone continued to smile nervously up at C’oar. His expression was shining with a deep and tangible admiration, and she didn't have to bother guessing at where he had picked up that attitude. The pair of them had always been remarkably similar, and she distinctly recalled nearly giving herself a coronary episode upon meeting her first brownrider -now her good friend G'tor. Hadn’t C’oar been there as well, she mused. He would have been Cloar back then...shards, had it really only been a year ago? It seemed strange that they had only known each other that long. Looking at him now, it was hard to imagine a time when he hadn't been there. She wondered how in Aslath’s name had she managed to get by so long without him.
A small frown crept onto her face as swords were mentioned. “Oh you don’t really mean that.” She sighed, freckles gathering unhappily over the bridge of her nose. Before Benden, the idea of his welding a sword would not have bothered her in the slightest. Then again, before Benden the concept had been an utter fantasy. Now the full effects of mortal combat were very real in her mind –putting seventeen stitches into your friends arm, crying for hours until you couldn't breath and sleeping next to him just to feel his heartbeat real. “I know we had a deal about my patching you up when you did stupid and reckless things,” She sighed, fixing him with a very disapproving look. “But something tells me that if you’ve got yourself a proper weapon you’re just going to go out looking for trouble…”
She sighed, giving her head a tired shake. Want was she saying? It wasn’t her place to be telling him how to live his life and dispatch his enemies. “Well, I guess if you’re northbound on the idea we’ll just have to tag along. You can buy us sweets and face paint later to make it up for the inconvenience.” She smiled briefly, then frowned again. "Wait, what do you mean by 'what's with the hood'? I happen to LIKE this jumper!"
A toad sticker? Does he want to stick toads to things? What is the point of that? Cherilith rumbled, very much confused by the idea of sticking Benden riders to things and even more so with the idea of driving Benden riders away with sticky toads. He chirruped in alarm as Frosstyth joked about Freckle’s less than stunning appearance. Oh Frosstyth, that is so very unkind! Freckle is not so frightening! He scolded, but the faintest hint of amusement resonated in his voice. His pale blue eyes brightened suddenly at the mention of storybooks. There are many, many lovely things in storybooks! Mine once read me a story where a man murdered another man and hid his body under the floorboards in his house, but he felt so guilty about it that he imagined could hear the heart beating even though the man was dead! He went quite mad by the end of the story…why would My Saeo not want Yours to come? He does not have to come if he does not want to, but I am sure that she would love to have him with her. He makes her happy. His expressive features lifted into a smile, illustrating his point.
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Post by dragon on May 28, 2009 14:30:29 GMT -5
C'oar smiled slightly as he saw Saeo's expression finally melt and brighten considerably. It was good to see her smile again. And it also told him that maybe she wasn't going to chew his ass so hard after all. Which he was happy to know, indeed! Though ... the continued wordless staring of her younger brother was starting to unnerve him somewhat. What was that all about, anyway? Just what sort of tales had Saeo been telling the kid, anyway??
"Well ..." C'oar started, in his own defense. "Reckless, maybe. I'll give you that. But not stupid. I knew what I was doing, and what was at stake." He pointed out. "I reckon you wouldn't like me very much if I hadn't done a great deal of what I did do. And I think it was worth it." He shrugged. "I can heal. And no ... a proper weapon won't make me charge out into the fray like a booze-addled draybeast." He shook his head, and heaved a sigh.
"Alright, then, come along." He wasn't so sure about the face paint, but he'd be happy enough to buy her a pie or something. If he had the marks left to do that with. The sword was coming first, no two ways about it. He shifted his staff back to the other hand, and then headed out. Moving was still awkward, and he sorely missed being able to walk without really having to think about it...
"Hey, now. Don't get up in a wad over it, I was just curious. I haven't seen you wearing it before, so I asked. I never said it was bad. Nor did I say it was good. I didn't say anything at all on the matter. I just asked. It makes you look ... different." He smiled at her slightly, before returning his attention back to what direction the ground in front of him was sloped, for proper placement of his bum foot.
Thankfully, the smithy stall was not that far away. And C'oar was glad for it, taking to standing on his good leg and leaning his staff on the booth itself. "Goodday." He said, to the vendor. "I'm wanting to buy a sword. Hand and a half, full and thick tang, smooth pommel. Braided leather hilt if you've got it. Balance two fingers up. Do you have anything like that? I don't care what the guard looks like." C'oar asked. If he was going to get a sword, he was going to get one that he knew he could weild, and also one that he could count on. It wouldn't be any small sword, but it wouldn't be a giant one, either. Something he could use two handed or one handed, either way. And hopefully they had something besides iron!
Frosstyth blew a sigh, throwing dust away from his snout. I am sorry, Cherilith. I did not mean to be insulting. Apologies to Freckle. He said, with sincerity. He eyed a leaf as it blew past him, but resisted - with a mighty effort - from snapping at it. His had expressed a dislike of his snacking tendencies, and Frosstyth was making a mighty effort to stop eating leaves. Because his had asked him to. It was hard ... even though leaves didn't really taste all that good...
That is a very strange story. I guess it's a good reason why not to bury people inside your sleeping spot. I would imagine that would smell really bad after awhile... Oh! Mine will like to know that ... that mine makes yours happy. I think mine likes yours ... though why he won't say so, I don't know. I suspect maybe he's not supposed to, so he's keeping it a secret? I don't know. I think mine would like to go ... if he didn't have to walk. Walking too far on his ankle makes him grouchy sometimes. I don't know if mine is interested in storybooks or not. I can't say as I've ever seen mine eating storybooks before.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on May 28, 2009 18:15:16 GMT -5
Danmer looked C'oar over critically for a moment. He didn't like selling swords to just anyone, but the boy carried himself well and he knew what he wanted. Nodding, Danmer went to a rack of swords of various lengths and pulled one down he thought his customer would like. It was actually one of the ones his father had made and sent with him. The length and balance were right, and hilt wrapped in dark brown, braided leather. The blade was good steal and the guard had a simple geometric design. "How's does this fancy you?" he asked amiably.
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Post by nightingale on May 31, 2009 0:39:19 GMT -5
The young bluerider laid her hand against her Amone’s shoulder, bidding him to stay beside her as she moved to follow C’oar into the crowd. She couldn’t decide whether or not she liked not having to worry about matching the brownweyrling’s much longer stride. On the one hand, actually being able to keep up with him was a pleasant change of pace in a very literal sense. Of course it was also a constant reminder that the boy was still not entirely himself. Maybe that was why the idea of him buying a sword put her on edge. Where there were swords there was bloodshed, and Saeo was not at all sure she would be able to handle seeing any more of her friends get hurt when paintings of the siege were still drying on her memory.
His continued commentary on her hooded jumper brought a small frown to the girl face. “Well you might at least give me your opinion on that difference.” She huffed, thrusting her chin out a little further. “Not that it counts for anything. I don’t dress myself in the morning hoping to impress you.” Amone offered the brownrider a quietly apologetic look. “I would just tell her that it’s pretty if I was you. You really don’t want to start this argument.” Saeo made an indignant huffing sound and breezed her way to the front of the procession, deciding that she was going to ignore both of them.
She reached the smith stall a few seconds before the boys did, and set about making herself look very much occupied with admiring the various bladed weapons. She had half a mind to trade in her own dagger for something a little more functional –the one she currently carried was of the throwing variety, and had spent some time embedded in her thigh during the siege- but the girl quickly decided that she wouldn’t have enough marks to make up the difference. In any case, what little pocket money she had was going toward trinkets, books, and sugar candy.
Cherilith inclined his head ever so slightly, his large eyes widening in an expression of pleasant curiosity. Well I would hope that he likes her! They have been friends for a very long time after all! A year may not have been long by most standards, but because the young blue had known him as a friend from the day he hatched, it seemed that His had known him for a very long time indeed. You confuse me Frosstyth. Why would it be wrong for him to like her? Has she been unkind to him in some way? I had thought that one could be friends with whomever they wanted.
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Post by dragon on May 31, 2009 14:02:09 GMT -5
C'oar glanced at Amone, and then shrugged a tiny bit. Commenting pro or con on a gal's clothing ... esp Saeo's ... was suicide. No matter which way it went, it was a trap. He'd really rather just ... leave well enough alone. But ... since Saeo demanded...
"Well ... it looks functional. Nice shade of grey." He offered, hoping that was good enough. "Matches the jumper."
Well, that was awkward. He hoped it would do, as he turned his attention back to the vendor. He nodded with approval as he accepted the offered weapon. He balanced his weight on his good leg, resting his staff against the stall. That freed up both hands for inspecting the sword. He weighted it first in one hand, and then in both, before testing the balance. Satisfied with that, he nodded with an approving frown, before twirling it experimentally at his side. He was very careful where the blade zinged, not wanting to slash anyone with it. Satisfied, he nodded.
"How much for this one?" He asked, simply, before noticing what Saeo was looking at. "See anything you like?" C'oar asked.
Frosstyth wiggled in place, kicking a few rocks out from under him. A long time, indeed. he agreed, simply. I didn't say it was wrong. I just said it seemed that way, the way he tries to sit on it like he does. Almost like sneaking ... a ... a ... He was distracted for a moment by another leaf. But after a moment, he managed to shake the urge to eat it. Where was I? Oh. Mine. Um ... he is silly.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Jun 1, 2009 12:39:32 GMT -5
Danmer glanced at Saeo for a moment to see if she liked anything, before turning back to C'oar. He nodded with approval and smiled. "You handle it well," he complimented. Most youngsters these days seemed to think just swinging the blade around was enough. This lad obviously knew his way around a sword and Danmer liked that. He'd have to tell Rohm about this one. Maybe he'd like to come and teach him some new tricks. "That one is 5 and three-quarter marks," he told C'oar. He hoped the weyrling could afford it, or at least close to that amount. He liked seeing his wares go to good hands.
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Post by nightingale on Jun 4, 2009 22:28:03 GMT -5
Functional. Oh life of glory, he thought her new dress looked functional. Saeo would have liked nothing more than to have made a gratingly sarcastic comment, if not for the fact that she would have had to stop ignoring him to do so. Freckle picked up on her bonded’s displeasure eagerly, casting a sour look in the boy’s direction and trilling sharply. Dumb ick badpest! She scolded, flicking her tongue awkwardly out at him from the folds of her hooded fortress.
Amone moved to stand next to his sister, eyeing an ornamental sword that hung at the back of the stall “You think anyone actually tries to fight with those things?” He asked, nudging her and gesturing toward it with his head. The bluerider eyed him briefly, then turned to examine the finely detailed sheath intently. She shrugged. “You know what they say about a fool and his money. There’s a good chance that someone who can rationalize buying a purely ornamental weapon can rationalize trying to fight with it.” The boy nodded his silent agreement, then turned to watch C’oar as the weyrling took a few practice swings with the sword he had specified.
Saeo was trying to guess which of the daggers were made for close combat when she realized she was being spoken to. “Hmm?” She tilted her head sideways, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be angry. “What? Oh…not really. I don’t think I’ll be handling any blade larger than a scalpel in the near future.” She had practiced her blocks and maneuvers almost religiously before the siege, but after having killed her first man Saeo had come to realize that she really hadn’t the stomach for such things. The only reason she carried a blade now was for the security it’s presence offered her. She was entirely unsure that she would be able to bring herself to use it if pressed.
Very silly indeed…Cherilith mused, confusion etching fine lines of concentration onto his face. Perhaps you should have a talk with him…or perhaps I should ask Mine to have a talk with him. I am quite certain that she would be able to convince him how silly he is behaving…oh, so long as that is alright with you Frosstyth. If you would like me to keep this conversation a secret I will. He glanced up from his musings just in time to spot his brown sibling eyeing a wind-tossed leaf. C’oar still does not like you eating leaves? He asked sympathetically. The young blue didn’t understand his brother’s preoccupation with the foul tasting green things, but it seemed unfair that he wasn’t allowed to eat them simply because it was strange. So long as he enjoyed eating them, what was so wrong about it?
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Post by dragon on Jun 5, 2009 13:40:51 GMT -5
"Some people aren't aware those are decorative." C'oar mentioned, overhearing the siblings' conversation, as he placed the sword he had selected back on the table. It was part of why he had deliberately requested a full and heavy tang. Decorative swords often didn't even have a tang. Making them completely useless. If the handle's not attached to the blade, there's not much anyone could do with it.
"Five and three-quarter marks, eh? Could we slip some of that off by adding this?" C'oar asked, before pulling out one of his three knives. He'd started out with only one - the one his father had given him. But somehow in the attack he'd acquired a few more. Mostly by yanking them out of his own body. And he was willing to part with one of the foreign blades... the other he had other ideas for. Maybe the vendor would slick a mark or two off ... something.
"I hope you won't be doing too much scalpel weilding, either." C'oar commented. If she was having to do that, it meant that someone was greivously injured... and that was almost as bad as someone attacking someone else.
I don't know, Cherilith. Would yours really be able to make mine stop being silly? I am not sure a person can be changed like that, to suit everyone else's whims and desires. Frosstyth mused, pillowing his chin on his forelegs and staring off toward the gather. No, mine doesn't like me eating leaves. I don't really like them, either ... they taste bad, and make my belly feel bad. So I try not to. I don't know why I want to eat leaves ... they just ... His eyes traced another one flopping across the ground. ...demand to be eaten.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Jun 5, 2009 17:27:30 GMT -5
Danmer nodded. "I don't let just anyone by a real sword," he said. "They aren't toys like some seem to think." It was one of the reasons he kept the best blades in the back. Someone who knew their way around weapons would know to ask. Otherwise they had no business wielding one. C'oar was a bit younger than he normally aloud, but he had handled it well.
Danmer took the knife from C'oar and turned it over in his hand. It was Northern make, but the look of it. Well made, though not masterwork. Likely another journeyman like himself. He balanced it on his finger and tested it on a length of cord. It was a good blade and he could fixed it up into something even better. He nodded again. "For this I can mark it down to four and a half marks, how's that sound?"
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Post by nightingale on Jun 7, 2009 16:05:50 GMT -5
Saeo lifted an eyebrow in C’oar’s direction as he suggested that perhaps someone might actually mistake an ornamental sword for a weapon. “How could they not notice? It has a bleeding ship etched into the front of it! You’d have to be the most pretentious person in the world to run into battle wielding that.” She was loathe to suggest that getting run through for sheer stupidity was what a person like that deserved, but in a distant and macabre way she believed just that. The girl said nothing on the point of surgery and all the connotations that it carried. As much as she loved her work, she did not hope that an emergency would pop up any time soon.
Mine says that you cannot change people. Cherilith agreed, sighing lightly. You can only give them advice and hope they accept it. Still…I think she will do her best to convince him. He brushed lightly against his rider’s mind, and received a small pulse of inquiry in response. Frosstyth has told me that His feels as if it is wrong to like you…or, perhaps that is the wrong way to phrase it. He feels as if he should have to be sneaky about liking you. Cherilith, you’re making absolutely no sense darling. Does he have some reason to be angry with me? Not that I know of Mine. Frosstyth says that he is just silly. Well if he doesn’t want to like me, then there must be something wrong with him. Is it because we followed them? Because I’m not going to apologize for it. Oh my beautiful, please do not be upset. I am sure that is not what he meant.
“Cloar, I think you should know your dragon is gossiping about you." Saeo growled, leaning against the side of the display table and folding her arms across her chest. And just what have you been telling Frosstyth, Cherilith? I do not think I have told him anything inappropriate.The blue offered meekly, opening his mind and allowing the girl to pick through fragments of their conversation. She found precisely what she had expected to find. It seemed that as far as dragons were concerned, ‘like’ was synonymous with a great many other words that simply should not be replaced.
“Amone? Could you go see if someone has snatched up my pie from where I left it? I think Baby might like a piece when he gets back.” The boy caught her sideways glance and took the hint, nodding. He extended a hand toward Freckle, offering it as a perch. The little green was hesitant to leave Hers and the comfort of her fleecy hood, but a particularly hard mental shove and the promise of food convinced her to scrabble onto the boy’s hand with a low trill of annoyance. They vanished into the crowd shortly thereafter. Saeo said nothing. She had decided long ago to say absolutely nothing on this particular subject. If C’oar decided to say nothing, she would be just fine with that…fine in a seething and frustrated sort of way, but just fine.
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