Post by tuathade on Sept 27, 2011 18:58:37 GMT -5
Well, this was completely unacceptable.
The prison weyr's records were in shambles. The senior goldhandler was a drunk. They had no gold dragon, and the replacements would not be arriving for a few sevendays at least. The hatching had been a success - if you could call it that, with all the atypical colors - but nonetheless, most of the weyrlings were criminals. (One was a murderer. A murderer with a yellow. Who had authorized that?) On top of everything, dozens of outlaws were still at large - and given the appearance of that one little grey, Passith, at least a few of their eggs had hatched.
Whenever the best case scenario involved dead infant dragons, you knew you were really fucked.
Still, there was nothing left to do but salvage what was left of order in the weyr. And the first step to that was visibility. Qu'an could have easily holed himself up in the Warden's office (the one he now shared with L'rin, albeit reluctantly) and set to work on paperwork there. But it was better for people to see him out and about. The sooner they learned that sharp eyes were watching their every move, the better. He'd spent the morning on his rounds around the prison, observing the guards at work... But for the moment, he was taking a break to discuss the situation with his dragon.
Hunt down the outlaws, was Kzerzath's first sleepy suggestion, upon being awakened. Kill the interlopers. The bronze had been napping by the riverside, basking like some fearsome, massive Pernese crocodile. Still, for the occasional... unreasonable violence of his advice, Kzerzath provided a useful sounding board. It was good to have someone in his head with a different perspective, to keep him from falling too far into his own doctrine. How did non-riders manage such things?
It would have made an odd sight, the new Warden standing next to his dragon, while the two conversed in outward silence. Still, as Qu'an pored over the notes he'd taken on a fresh hide, he kept watch through his dragon's eyes... and Kzerzath, fully awake now, was sharp and alert. The river was a public area, central to the weyr. Plenty of people passed through on a regular basis.
The prison weyr's records were in shambles. The senior goldhandler was a drunk. They had no gold dragon, and the replacements would not be arriving for a few sevendays at least. The hatching had been a success - if you could call it that, with all the atypical colors - but nonetheless, most of the weyrlings were criminals. (One was a murderer. A murderer with a yellow. Who had authorized that?) On top of everything, dozens of outlaws were still at large - and given the appearance of that one little grey, Passith, at least a few of their eggs had hatched.
Whenever the best case scenario involved dead infant dragons, you knew you were really fucked.
Still, there was nothing left to do but salvage what was left of order in the weyr. And the first step to that was visibility. Qu'an could have easily holed himself up in the Warden's office (the one he now shared with L'rin, albeit reluctantly) and set to work on paperwork there. But it was better for people to see him out and about. The sooner they learned that sharp eyes were watching their every move, the better. He'd spent the morning on his rounds around the prison, observing the guards at work... But for the moment, he was taking a break to discuss the situation with his dragon.
Hunt down the outlaws, was Kzerzath's first sleepy suggestion, upon being awakened. Kill the interlopers. The bronze had been napping by the riverside, basking like some fearsome, massive Pernese crocodile. Still, for the occasional... unreasonable violence of his advice, Kzerzath provided a useful sounding board. It was good to have someone in his head with a different perspective, to keep him from falling too far into his own doctrine. How did non-riders manage such things?
It would have made an odd sight, the new Warden standing next to his dragon, while the two conversed in outward silence. Still, as Qu'an pored over the notes he'd taken on a fresh hide, he kept watch through his dragon's eyes... and Kzerzath, fully awake now, was sharp and alert. The river was a public area, central to the weyr. Plenty of people passed through on a regular basis.
