Pear-Lime Glace (desc'd by Michel)
Pale green in color this soup is served in a chilled toureen, smooth as cream it coats the spoon as well as the throat with a soothing coolness. There's not much to mark this part of the meal as far as sight goes. It is garnished with a small fan of thinly sliced pear and grated, candied greenfruit rind and a small grating of nutmegoid.
Sour and strong the greenfruit is the first to swarm the tastebuds followed quickly by the sweet, clean taste of pear. As the first sight of this soup shows, it is as smooth as cream marred only by the solidity of its garnish as it flows easily down the throat. The subtle warmth of nutmegoid is the only thing left besides the sweet aftertaste when the soup is finally finished.
Clean and fresh, both pear and greenfruit tantalize the senses with their light and delicate touch. A fragrance reminiscent of waning spring in the mountains with just the slightest hint of growing summer due to the nutmegoid.

Blackened Packtail Dinner (desc'd by Michel)
Juicy pink flesh peeks out from the cracks in the dark crust of fried on spices. Clear, fragrant juices puddle beneath the fillet of packtail to one side of the plate, garnished with a slice of fresh greenfruit on the top. A dark russet jacket enfolds a fluffy orangish mound of mashed tubers and fingerroots, molten butter dripping down from the top like lava from a volcano. The last third of the plate is taken up by steamed green and yellow squash in round slices with bright strips of sweet red pepper.
Sweet packtail flesh almost bites back with the spices used in the crust fried onto the outer layer; warming cayenne, bitter basil, pungent whitebulb and subtle paprika blend to bring out the full flavor of the fish. Creamy tubers, mashed with fingerroots, are a soothing blandness with just a touch of seasoning to keep the senses alive. Tender, yet still a bit firm, squash and sweet peppers are steamed to perfection, warmed completely thru and just bursting with juiciness which continues to still the burn of the blackening on the packtail.
Pepper wafts up from this plate in abundance, cayenne and white both are the first odor to assail the senses followed by whitebulb and paprika with an undercurrent of basil. As in sight and taste the fishy odor of the blackened packtail nearly overpowers the rest of the dinner as the tubers and vegetables remain merely soothing presences to tone down the heat of the main dish.

Citron Sponge with Blueberry Sauce (desc'd by Michel)
Perfectly golden all around the edges fading into a pale yellow center. Light and airy, yet still firm and moist, this confection cannot be topped. Or can it? Drizzling down the sides and pooling around the base drips a sauce of sweetened, mascerated blueberries. Purple juices stain the sunny yellow as a fluffy dollop of sweetened cream floats upon the puddle of fruit.
Citrus bite and blueberry sweetness meld into a velvety texture against the tongue. Fluffy cream lightens the flavor even more till it is difficult to discern if the taste is a single entity or all three separately.
Tangy citron combines with cloying blueberry to form a balance of fragrance, blending into a mouthwatering sensation that is reminiscent of sunshine, tropical seaspray and mountain meadows at the height of summer.

Whitebulb and Herb Breadsticks (desc'd by Michel)
Strips of dough, twisted slightly to give it a pleasing texture, have been baked to a golden brown, a bit darker where ever a ridge of the twist rises higher than the rest. The outer crust has been liberally brushed with molten butter, heightening the intensity of the golden color and bringing out the specks of herbs strewn throughout the dough.
Tender and chewy, nearly melting on the tongue as the specks of herbs and whitebulb burst with flavor as soon as they are broken against the teeth. Savory butter blends well with the lightbread making it a perfect compliment to anything that follows.
Butter, and lots of it, is a warm and subtle scent woven about with the smells of basil, parsley and whitebulb all embedded in the warm yeasty fragrance of the bread.

Anchovie and Whitebulb Stuffed Mushroom Caps (desc'd by Loren)
A number of small, silver platters, square in shape and glitteringly clean. A thin sheet of soft, white sisal, Bakercraft badges stitched in the corners and a pattern of dragons trailing along the edges, is neatly laid upon each pan, thin slits left so that the handles are readily accessible. A mass of small fingerfoods is arranged neatly on top, lined up in eight neat rows, eight to each -- for a total of sixty-four, times however many platters happen to be in attendance. The snacks are small, round mushroom caps: white in hue, and about an inch and a half average diameter. Minibowls are stuffed with strips of roasted anchovie, thin and heaped one on top of the other in thin layers, sprinklings of spices and fingerroot bits in between. A latticework of roasted garlic and steamed artichoke leaves criss-crosses the top, lining the sides and bottom of the inside. A thin layer of multicolored specks is sprinkled over the tops of each little bowl, revealing themselves as a variety of peppers and mild spices when tasted.
Tangy and sour, mushroom-bowl's flavoring clashes with the tongue-curling blare of pepper and tang of cayenne powder. Pepper-swirled garlic settles mildly on the tongue, toned down by its roasted texture and the distinctly oily, sea-salted taste of anchovie-slices. The bland taste of artichoke follows around, a little bit of flair added by a fruity dash of pungent redfruit juice.
Garlic; the scent of roasted garlic rises upwards first and foremost, tickling at your nose and overpowering the less odorous mushroom-dish. A distinctly vegetative smell is next; the bland, singular scent of artichoke mingles with the more exotic flavors of pepper and cayenne, just barely shadowing the distinctly marine scent of fishy anchovie, and topped off with just a smidge of what can just barely be distinguished as redfruit.

Citrus Ices (desc'd by Damia)
Ice. Well maybe not exactly ice, but that's probably the best adjective to describe the sorbet type thing. There are little mounds of it in little dishes - more than enough for any occasion. The ices are all sorts of pale colors ranging from a true snowy white to a pale green and even up into pale
Tart, cool, refreshing. All could describe the deceptively simple taste that insinuates itself across your taste buds once your tongue runs across the smooth, slightly-gooey ices. The sour green-citrus taste of the green ices is lessened to a pleasant tang by the sugar and cool temperature of the substance. Orange-citrus needn't have its tartness lessened and thus remains true to form. Yellow-citrus is treated in much the same way as green-citrus, but of a slightly more orangey taste.
These ices have very little smell unless one were to put their nose right up to the desserts themselves. In that case, the sniffer would notice, of course, the cold temperature and the slightly refreshing smell of ice as well as the citrus smells of the flavorings put into the ices. Green-citrus, yellow-citrus, and orange-citrus are foremost, the tang of their acidic tastes quite obvious, in their own ways, to the olfactory senses.

On behalf of High Reaches Weyr, Baker Journeymen Michel and Damia would like to welcome you to the Weyr and thank you for chosing to attend this Feast.

The menu for today is:
• Bread -- Whitebulb & Herb Breadsticks
• Appetizer -- Anchovie & Whitbulb Stuffed Mushroom Caps
• Appetizer -- Glazed Porcine Medallions
• Soup -- Pear-Green Citrus Glace (served chilled)
• Main Course -- Blackened Packtail w/ Twice Baked Tubers & Fingerroots and Steamed Vegetables
• Dessert -- Citron Sponge Cake w/ Blueberry Sauce
• Dessert -- A variety of Citrus Ices

Takovic? Part of hurried activity? Not usual. His activity, in the grand scheme of time, is far from frantic; the only part of him that moves when he's not walking to his table are his eyes and his hands. His feet, when moving, carry him always to the same table, and his eyes don't notice much, though, until his ears pick something up intended for him.

Rhoswen tilts her hat up once more, eyeing Takovic and praying he's forgotten about her.. drunken flirtivity. It was never meant to happen.. so no worries, right? Not with Tak. And the whole.. hobby... thing. The rez gulps compulsively and opens her mouth to call him over, but scarce comes out but a dry whisper. Oh dear.. Rhos is lost for words. She'll have to wait until another day, then. Gratefully sliding down into the couch, she tips Oren's hat back over her eyes again. Hide.

Michel limps hurriedly from Kitchen to Living Caverns, back and forth, countless times bringing steaming or chilled dishes and setting them on a table till they can be served. He glances at the time candle and mutters something under his breath, probably hoping that the guests would hurry and show up before the dinner cools or the ices melt.

Merra makes her way into the living cavern, looking vaguely put out to be dressed up and glaring at her dress as if it's the poor outfit's fault. Stalking, as much as she can in the full skirt, over to a couch, she sits, expression growing blacker when she has to arrange the skirt around her. This is -not- a happy Mer.

Rhoswen dares to peek from under her hat brim, casting a glance at Hurricane Merra. Gulp. "Er.. Hi Mer" she hazards, perhaps making a bad choice in choosing to talk to the enraged woman. "How are.. things?"

Daeyn minces into the living caverns with a slow, careful step, hands smoothing the skirts in an idle fidget before they fall to her sides, brownrider's usual serenity returning. You can't even see on her face a hint of her silent plea *not* to trip and end up head over heels. She spots Michel and calls, softly enough not to be overheard by anyone else, "everything will be perfect, I know it ... relax." She spots Merra and cocks an eyebrow. "Problems, little one?"

Hurricane Merra is occasionally full of hot air, and right now is probably one of those occasions. "'lo, Rhoswen," she greets, more of a grumble, really. "Why do women get dressed up? Why? I't a perfect pain!" The brownrider is heard, and the resident starts to retort before her friend's appearance sinks in. Forgetting about the dress, she jumps up and hurries over with intent to hug, instead tripping and more falling into the tall woman. "Daeyn, shells, you look beautiful!" she gasps on impact.

Michel smiles to his mate and nods as he contiues on one of his rounds of the caverns making sure all of the drudges and helpers know what they are serving and what tables and when....oh, just going totally crazy is this cook, that's all.

Loren scuttles in from the bowl, huffing quietly and dusting irritably at her skirts. "I'm here, I'm here." She's supposed to be here, right? Right. Of course.

The rumble of stentorian voices are mixed with one rather scratchy, if not squeeky voice that sounds almost as if one were dragging fingernails down a chalkboard, from the direction of the bowl. Screachy cuts across the rumble with authority and all is cut off. Wait for it... "Rodget, my cane." Ta-Dah... here comes the MasterFisher.

Sarah walks in and looks at the speculation that is going on. Rushing gingerly up to her mentor, she smiles. "This looks wonderful!" she exclaims and looks around. "I hope my Journeyman Project goes as well as this!" she says and smiles widely as she goes to sit down..or should she help? Yes, being a WeyrCook, she should help. Okay! On to help!

Sarhai's eyes widen at the buzzing place and for a few moments he remains where he 's standing, trying to stay out of the way of people at work and therefore out of trouble.

Kiriya looks up. "I hope you don't mind my presence. I decided to check out what's going on." She shifts around in her spot slightly. The Istan do-nothing, or at least that's what she probably is since she hasn't done anything in 6 months MOO time, watches and tries to learn something from everyone.

Pyrene sweeps in, swishing her skirts blithely and making polite talk with various visitors. "Reaches duties of course... Oh, our thanks for the fruit in your last tithe--simply marvellous!... Oh, of course, I'm sure we can arrange something..." Finally she manages to get to a table, casting a grin at Michel and Damia, and settles herself near Loren, who at least isn't likely to bore her senseless.

Michel sighs with relief when a pair of apprentices show up and limps in their direction. "Sarah, Loren....I'm glad you showed up. Here....can you finish setting those tables over there for me?" he gasps breathlessly, almost shoving a tray of flatware and napkins into their hands.

Kiriya stands up and wonders if she can be of help.

Rhoswen manages to look slightly elegant, bedecked in skirts that she feels rather out place in. Attempting not to trip, she floats to Merra's side and hovers there, unsure of exactly what she's doing here. So she fusses, arranging verdant skirts that set off her emerald eyes and hoping she looks halfway decent. Gotta make a good impression an' all.

Daeyn exclaims in surprise, just barely managing to rock back on balance. She smiles down at Merra, looking rather flustered. "I ... oh," she says. "I've been waiting for a chance to wear this ..." she explains. "And you look lovely, Merra ... if not exactly comfortable." Brownrider takes a few moments out to smile and nod at various greetings, standing quite still. She glances quizzically at the woman who's joined them. "Relax," she says absently. "You're fine."

Damia is busy chatting up a couple of guests in a rather bustling table that's rather quickly falling up. Of course, the baker's cleavage probably has a rather large part to play in the fact that they're conversing with her as well, for Damia looks rather busy. Not harried -- this baker almost never looks harried -- but definitely busy. Just now, she's setting out lovely breadsticks on the table, taking care to leave them in their fanning arrangment they were put in in the kitchen. Loren and Sarah are given a rather distracted wave and a grin is flashed her direction. "Weyrwoman Pyrene!" 'Mia greets, rather formally, straightening and smoothing her skirts. "My duties to Cadgewith -- I'm so glad you could make it."

"Oh, I can't wait to see my baby!" Never mind the fact that Lady Narina's baby is quite grown up. The Lady Holder of Lewis Hold doesn't let that little detail deter her. "He was promoted to Weyrhealer a few months back, you know," she confides - loudly - to another entering guest who really doesn't care. Yes, the woman is, in fact, Kariel's mother. She sweeps in with her small contingent, letting a drudge lead her to a table where she continues to wax eloquent on Kariel's achievements.

Loren beams at Pyrene, fidgiting irritably and rising as she's beckoned, managing a wave at Pyrene in farewell. Lo' must set tables, and be helpful. Right. "Ah, hello, sir -- excuse me, ma'am." Nervous beams are directed towards guests in passing, and the bakerlet takes her tray and shuffles off to do her job. "Oh, dear, oh dear." See Lo' flutter and stutter and look like an idiot while she messes with flatwear. Hack. Kariel's mother is accorded with a blink as she's noticed, but Lo' decides that being amiable and harassing her friends' relatives can wait for a bit.

Sarah laughs and sends her mentor a smile. "Sure thing!" she says and moves towards the tables, sending a happy grin to Loren and a wink, she sashays over to the table and begins to set it. "So Loren, this is really cool, huh?" she asks and grins. "I sure hope this many show up for my Journeyman Project!" Thunk-bump. Thunk-bump. The rustle of clothing and the sound of skin hitting skin. "Shardit, Rodget. My cane?!" the MasterFisher squeeks, emaciated fingers pick the cane from the broader Captain's hand to thump it's metal point hard upon the flooring. Now what. The MasterFisher's followers just sort of stand around, looking this way and that before the CraftMaster cackles again, "Ohhhh, a /seat/."

Pyrene wrinkles her nose as Loren is stolen from her to do dutiful things. "'Mia," she greets in relief as Damia fills the blank. "Cadgwith is fine, and I'm always ready for an excuse to eat and drink. How has everything gone? Can I put my faith in your food?" A wink to the cook, even as she greets Narina: "Kariel is doing beautifully. Delivered my child himself in fact, and did very well too." She came out of it alive, after all.

Merra can't help herself. She's mostly looking around for a certain Nylanth-riding bronzerider, though she does pay some attention to Daeyn and Rhoswen. "Well, you look lovely, Daeyn. Has Michel seen you yet? Hello, Rhoswen. You look lovely, also." And Merra herself? If Celtic sorceresses existed on Pern, she'd look like one.

Riders, weyrfolk, drudges all over the place, even the cooks have left their sanctuary. Sarhai edges along the wall to get himself some juice. "Sorry," the young man catches the elboy of a girl as she bumps into him, almost dropping her tray. When she's on her way again, he quickly pours himself a glass and slips into a chair at one of the tables that doesn't look like it's going to be needed any time soon. Phew!

Bekka is hurried out of the kitchens, balancing a tray that wobbles precariously on her hand. Plastering a beam on her face, the young drudge, hisses over her shoulder at a particularly bossy cook and arranges her tray, set with elegant glassess and a large flask of Benden. "Alright, alright, I'm go-ing" she stresses, brushing a curl back from her forehead. And she does, walking slowly through the crowds and dropping the occasional curtsey to someone who looks mildy important. "M'lady... hello sir.. some wine for you?"

Loren sways, skirts swinging. "Oh, it's all very exciting -- R'avey's supposed to be coming down, eventually." Nevermind the guests of honor, Loren wants her weyrmate. "Oh, dear, oh dear -- have you seen anyone from Telgar or the Master Sea Hold, yet?" May as well flee before she can find out if she knows them, right?

About then, a pair strides in looking rather grand indeed. The taller of the pair is the lanky Weyrleader of Telgar and is dressed in a splendid green. His Weyrwoman, her arm looped through his, is wearing a lovely golden dress that slides out on either side of her, taking up quite a bit of space. Coridal smiles are on the pair's features as V'ril, rider of bronze Prozath and Alycya, rider of gold Wondralth, join the party.

Kiriya's eyes dart about the room, seeing all the action. This young 15-Turn-old girl has not quite settled down in her Hold yet, and wishes to learn a bit more before she takes any more steps. She looks at the food, her mouth watering slightly. Of course her clothes look incredibly out of season, her body almost entirely shrouded in black. She doesn't mind the heat, in fact she loves it. She slips into a chair near an end of the table where she can remain slightly inconspicuous. "Could I be of assistance? If you need any help, I can offer it." She motions to the server nearest to her. "If you don't mind, I'll have a drink. I'm getting thirsty from all this anticipation."

Chandra sweeps into the cavern, gaze flickering about her home Weyr with a touch of annoyance. Not for being her, but for having to wear girl clothes. Two steps in and she nearly collides into the back of a rather dark-coated fellow. Immediatly, the Master shrinks back as she catches sight of a tossle of grey hair atop a rather emaciated elderly man. Eyes dart to the side. Escape? Escape? She is too worried about not being seeing my her CraftMaster to actually consider the concept that the old coot is actually out of his room... out of the Master Sea Hold, and at a Weyr? Whoa.

Damia beams, fanning her face. It's only spring in 'reaches, but the pack of people in the caverns, the work she's doing, and the stress of the past few days -- the sevenday, in fact -- bears down upon the journyeman, "Everything's gone wond'fully, but t seems as if it's been an entire month already and I haven't had any sleep." Beam. Still she doesn't look as if she hasn't had any sleep -- she's probably exaggerated, as usual. "And, 's us'all, ye sh'ld be putting faith 'n m'food, eh?" 'Mia finishes.

Harried and officious. Two words that describe the next two people that enter fairly well. Tuya and Miner Craftmaster Kaspar, dressed up, and every pleat and crease neat. "You see... we are /several/ minutes late. Wouldn't have happened if that rider had been a bit faster." mutters Kaspar. Tuya just looks annoyed. How come /she/ had to go with him?

Rhoswen grins self-conciously as Very Important People mill around her, ivory cheeks flushed with mild excitement. Her hands clutch at her skirts, swishing them back and forth with a kidlet-like pride. She moves through the crowd, narrowly missing a strikingly handsome young man. Swoon. She tucks a blond strand of hair over her shoulder and treats him to a winning smile before hurrying off with a giggle.

Daeyn chuckles softly, looking amused. "He's too busy trying not to lose his mind, I think ..." She shifts from one foot to the other, causing a small cascade of rustling. "Look at all these people ..." Brows arch in surprise, and she glances briefly around for Michel before abandoning her quest. "We really should get seated ..." Brownrider edges to a table, allowing anyone else to follow in her wake.

Pyrene spies the wine and tries to attract Bekka's notice while avoiding that of a holder's son who has come on behalf of his father, but proves to be more interested in making the most of the party than in behaving in accordance with etiquette. Mingling with a vengeance, she takes up a spot near Tuya and Kaspar, absently murmuring: "So glad you could come..."

Kiriya beams slightly as all the Very Important People (as Rhoswen said) move around, feeling small and insignificant in the midst of all this greatness. She /is/ a Traveler, and hasn't even made a place for herself in the world yet. Kiriya sips at her glass of wine, trying to quell her thirst. "So the crawler is yours?

Sarah looks around, not knowing many except for the Bakerlets, she sits down by herself and eyes the occupants of the room. "Looks like a full cavern," she says to herself and laughs. "Sigmis," she says and raises her eyebrows at the 'Reachian. "Need anymore help, Michel?" she asks and seems to be in a rather good mood.

Damia glides off to greet the Telgar Weyrleaders, exchanging pleasantries with them before nodding her head and moving off to mingle with others. Tuya and Kaspar are targetted as well and, as Damia reaches them, bows her head and curtsies once again, "Ah, Craftmaster, Lady," She greets in her rustic drawl

Kaspar takes a look at the weyrwoman, glancing at her briefly. "Yes, well, when I heard all about this big feast, I simply had to attend. And since Tuya here," A bob of the head to the frazzled looking woman. "Seemed to be doing nothing that that MineHold of hers, I brought her along." Tuya looks less than grateful. "Well met, weyrwoman." is her greeting, with more of a smile than Kaspar. Save her from this /man/.

Kiriya smiles. "Crawly, eh? Very cute...for a crawler, at least."

Bekka snorts as some hob-nobbing 'rider refuses a glass of wine. She's personally offended. And upset at being dressed rather plainly, compared to all these people. The drudge attempts to escape into the kitchens again but is kicked out rather quickly. Well, better stick at this, then. A curtsey is dropped to a random clump of people, tray held out at arm's length. "Wine for you, Lady? Sir?" she offers, looking pointedly at them. Take wine. Or else.

Sigmis looks around, looking for his brother, "Has Jindak passed by here at all?"

Sarhai waves at Pyrene as the goldrider passes, long limbs slowly unfolding from his chair and he bows to the weyrwoman, "Good morning, Pyrnee! What a morning!" He says softly, smiling shyly at the former nanny, though his voice might have got lost in all the noise.

Michel glances to Sarah for a moment and then nods, motioning to the steaming urns of klah near the hearth. "Yes....if you could make sure that those he don't care for wine have Klah or juice for their drinks." he says softly to his mentee. "And then I think you can relax for a little while.....just, try to keep their mugs full?" Then he's off again, a grateful smile sent to the young woman.

Sigmis , realizing this is an 'important' place now, tries to be not so annoying as he usually is, but he notices all the firelizards around, "Ohh! Firelizards!"

Merra follows obediently after the tall brownrider, careful not to trip over either of their skirts. "Oh, we should save a seat for Gid, Daeyn." Blush, twinke, sparkle, not necessarily in that order. "I can believe it. The menu looks absolutely delicious." Or, the food listed does, anyway. She tries not to eat menus. "Hopefully we'll be able to see your baker at some point..." She trails off, waving a hand towards the harried looking Michel.

Loren squeals as the Telgarian Weyrleaders enter, and thus decides to move in a direction other than theirs. "O-oh." Sniff. "Where do all the bronzeriders /go/ when you want them around?" A sniff on the bakerlet's part, and she scuttles in no direction in particular, beaming dimly as she relieves a tray-loaded server and starts around the caverns. HelpfulLo'. Riiight.

Sarah looks up and grins at her fellow Journeyman-to-be walks into the cavern. "Riki!" she calls and urges her friend over. Walking over to some of the guests she grins. "Excuse me, would you prefer wine or another choice of beverage?" she asks politly.

V'ril and his lady are all but run over by the drudge and, nodding, take the wine from her before slipping over toward a table where their good friends, a couple of smith Masters are seated -- which is a good thing for Loren, considering the fact that they've moved away from her. "Lovely, what they've done with it. I've always loved 'Reaches when it's not positively /freezing/," Might be heard from their direction as they converse with the smiths.

Pyrene takes pity on Tuya and, as Sarhai hails her, she steers her towards his table. "Do feel free to take a seat, but don't sit next to each other now. May as well make the most of this feast to socialise with people you don't normally see!" she chatters with apparent innocence. Her own feet are tired, so with a grateful look to Bekka for the wine, she takes a decanter and glasses for their table.

Kiriya acknowledges Sarah. "Well, what do you have besides wine?"

MasterFisher Sanderson jerks his arms about, the volumous sleeves swishing with every movement. Captain Rodget jumps to attention, striding for the table and yanking out a chair for his Master, only to see that it is lacking a cushon. This will never do. The shades of alarm flicker in the Captain's eyes before he strides right to Loren, growling to her, "The MasterFisher needs a cushon for his heinie.... he is an old man and requires his comforts... A cushon!" Be glad he only growled and didn't use his shipboard voice.

Sigmis looks around at all the firelizard, always impressed by there size, in comparison with the dragons of the weyr, and stares at them.

Damia manages to intercept Loren are her way -- well, wherever she's going. "Loren!" The woman all but barks, even as she drags the girl over toward MasterFister Sanderson, "Ah, Master Sanderson! S' good o' ye t' be makin' 't! This be Loren 'ere, an' she'll getcher a cusion rightaways, yah?" The woman still speaks in that drawl and blue eyes flutter at both of them. Lo should probably take the hint -- getting a cusion is probably better than scrubbing pots in the kitchen, right?

Kiriya has seen few dragons, and takes time to admire the little firelizards as well. She's always wanted a firelizard, but she has more important things to do, and thus, she doesn't bother.

Daeyn chuckles softly. "Oh, yes, a wild Michel sighting ... captain!" She exchanges a few animated pleasantries with the guard so snagged, then catches up with Merra in a couple long strides that the dress really wasn't made for. She finds a small island of empty chairs, swiftly acquiring one. "You might want to sit him on your side, away from me ... I think I called Nylanth sexist ..." Brownrider looks furtively guilty. That wasn't what she *meant*, really.

Sarah grins and looks at the person who asked her a question. "We have klah and juice, miss," she says and grins, hoping to attract more offers. Sending a grin to Riki, she shrugs and laughs.

Kaspar looks vaguely annoyed at having his companion for the meal hurried away, but after huffing a moment, stalks off and starts looking about. "Well?" is asked, loudly, of anyone in the local area. "What does a man have to do to get some wine?"

Sarhai grins and obligingly he pulls out a chair for Pyrene, waiting for her to sit down behind it. "Please, do sit down, weyrwoman!" Tuya and Bekka get a smile but his charm seems to be reserved for the goldrider.

Kiriya motions to Sarah. "Klah is fine. Not too strong, please."

Tuya has pity taken. And she's very grateful. "Thank you weyrwoman." she says, smoothing down the front of her tunic. "The man's capable, but he's a terrible conversationalist." To put it mildly. She eyes the wine. "Is that...?" Her knowing so little about wine, it's more a question than a prompt.

Loren would rather be sleeping, but, apparently, this isn't an option. A polite nod towards the MasterFisher, and Lo' scuttles away, mumbling something about pillows and shins as she disappears. A moment later, she's back, cushion-armed and looking rather ruffled. "Sharding 'brat. Stupid pillow fortress." And Lo' has dashed the dreams of another small child. However, she manages a beam as she steps towards Master Sanderson again. "Cushion. Right. Will this do?" Please say yes. Sniff.

A jumble of voices is heard from the Kitchens as a veritible fair of servers exit rather hastily, mingling with the crowd and offering a selection of appetizers to the guests. Michel hurries from the same area shortly after and manages to stop by his weyrmate and friend for a quick greeting. "You two look marvelous....I wish I could stay, but...." he murmurs in their ears as he bends between them and motions toward the kitchen. A quick peck on Daeyn's cheek and he's off once more, making sure there are plenty of hors d'oerves and drinks.

Sarah shoots a glance at the person who wants wine, and nods her head to the klah-wanting-person. "Sure thing," she says and hurries off to the kitchen, Riki in tow. "Oh, just peachy!" she says and grins.

Sigmis realized Chandra is an important person, and goes over to her, "Ohh, who are you?" He smiles, and extends his dirty little hand, "My name is Sigmis!"

Rikaeli skitters over behind Sarah and gives the person a charming smile, always ready to help. She mutters to Sarah as she stands behind her,"So how's it going?" and follows her around the caverns.

Kiriya has traveled rather far to get to this party, and decides to make the best of it. She glances at everyone, including all the important people, and develops a slight grin on her face. Standing in the midst of greatness can be intimidating, but hey, it can be interesting.

Merra arches an eyebrow, studying her best friend for a long moment. "Do I want to know, by the way, why you told my daughter," the conspiciously absent one, "that bronzes are sexist." Her tone, however, is amused. She seats herself directly next to Daeyn, placing her shawl over the chair on her other side to indicate it's reserved. Michel gets a smile but nothing more, because he scuttles away too quickly.

Sarah gets the klah from the kitchens and turns to Rikaeli. "This is so exciting!" she says and gives Riki a large smile. Running back over to the person who wanted klah, she grins. "Here you go," she says and hands it to her.

Pyrene inclines her head graciously to Sarhai. "My thanks good sir," she responds with mock-formality. "And if what you're asking is if this is Benden, of course it is! Damia slipped that bit of info my way a few days ago." A grimace crosses her face then--nothing to do with her wine, but D'renn has just plunked himself down opposite her, a big grin on the blue-riding Weyrsecond's face that threatens to break into a leer. "Don't hog it to yourself, Pyrene. Gid's told me how you drink once you get going," he tells her smoothly.

The Captain practicly yanks the brandished pillow from Loren's hands, feeling it up quite well with rope-calloused hands, "It'll do." And that is all the thanks Loren will be getting. Captain Rodget flees back to the chair where the MasterFisher is looking most put out. Pillow is dropped to the seat and then fluffed at. "Here sir... brought special for you." Sanderson squeeks, "I should hope so." And thus, the MasterFisher lowers himself into the seat, but still looking quite constipated. Thats his normal look.

Kiriya smiles. "Thank you very much," she says, and sips her klah. She had a bad experience with Benden wine a while ago, and is a little nervous about drinking it.

Tuya knows Benden by reputation if nothing else. "Ooh." is her response as she drops into her seat, reaching for a glass. She takes a sip, and closes her eyes briefly. "You cannot get wine at the Hold. Too many apprentices about. So no drinks." It's criminal, really.

Enter the Lord Holder and his Lady of Igen. Lord Tronidus and his Lady Rashlyn are grand indeed, both dressed in light creams and whites that offset their tanned Igenite skin quite nicely. Immediately upon entering the young pair begin to move about, for they are just that -- young and with youth comes new ideas and systems. Liberal, the pair are often called. Immediately, Pyrene is beset upon as Areiah and M'rin are nowhere to be seen -- yet. "Weyrwoman Pyrene!" The Lady Rashyln greets, rather formally, a grin wreathing her tanned face, extending into her brown eyes. "Ah yes, Lady Pyrene, how have you been? 'Reaches is well, I trust? And Cadgewith?"

Rikaeli grins and follows Sarah out with a glass of wine, having heard a person ask for some. "Definately," she mentions and finds her way to Kaspar, graciously holding out a glass of wine for him and smiling her "I'm such a wonderful little appy helper" smile.

Daeyn calls a quick "good luck!" after her mate, hand absently touching her cheek before both settle into her lap. "I was trying to explain to her," she says with a small sigh, "why bronzes couldn't Impress women. It was about the only thing I could think of at the time." She casts a brief glance over at where D'renn sits, then back to the swirl of conversation nearest her. Just because they work together doesn't mean she has to be social.

Sarah nods and grins to Kiriya and walks away, flopping herself into a chair. "Rikaeli, let's go up to my room if you want to work on the project," she says, "Do you wish to drop anything off or anything?" she asks and grins, she's excited..yep.

Kaspar looks at Rikaeli for a moment before realising that the girl bears wine. "Ah. For a moment there," he says, rather sternly, "I thought no one had heard me." Fear for the raised voice that would have come about should that have actually been the case. "Much obliged girl."

Damia doesn't even stay to see the pillow-exchange take place, but continues to bustle about, overseeing operations and suchlike. Pyrene's comment about the Benden wine is greeted with a grin and a wink to match as well, "Dere be on'y d' best fer th' best, yah?" As the Igen Holders bear down upon them, a grin is flashed their direction as well as a nod and a curtsey, "M'duties, Lord Tronidus, Lady Rashlyn -- 'n welcome. D' ask fer anythin' ye be needin'." With that, the baker moves off again, busy as ever.

Sarhai laughs and slips back into his own chair, content with sipping his juice and listening to the banter between D'renn and Pyrene. And watch the celebrities of Pern sweep in in all their glory.

Kiriya tries to hide the scar over her left eye from the crowd, trying not to let anyone see it. She manages to keep quiet a while as she looks at the firelizards soaring about, but before long, she looks at Sarah. "Pleased to meet you, and the klah is delicious, if you ask me. I find being in the midst of all this greatness can be intimidating, but I suppose it's worth staying here, if I traveled such a far distance to get here."

Rikaeli smiles and turns around again, finding her own chair to sit in near Sarah. The back of her dress sweeps slightly on the ground as she sits. Her nose wrinkles up slightly at the dirt catching on it but she shrugs it off, bound to happen. She shakes her head to Sarah,"I've got a couple pieces of parchment with ideas scribbled on it. I've got this great idea for a game...." she trails off, figuring she'll wait to talk about it, without all the other important people around. Eep scary. Important people.

Bekka huffs importantly. At least people are drinking her wine now. Another attempt to make her way to the kitchens fails as she collides with a broad shoulder. "And what do you think you're doing, getting all up in my way like that?!" she exclaims, balancing her glasses. The woman prepares for another wild diatribe as the figure turns to reveal a face, or, more importantly, a /body/. Somebody bring her a rag to wipe the drool from her face! At that inconveinient moment, another drudge bursts through and grabs Bekka by the arm, dragging her away. "Write me!" is her strangled call as she's dragged, kicking, back into the kitchens.

A drudge near the kitchens yanks on the pull rope of a small bell hung there for this occassion. CLANG! CLANG! The signal to begin serving the appetizers and encouraging people to take their seats before the soup warms to much.

Merra laughs, gaze darting around briefly to search for the elusive G'deon once more. "Where in Faranth's name is that pathetic excuse for a bronzer," she mutters, though her words are belied by the affection kindling in her eyes. Turning back to Daeyn, she shrugs. "Well, Misi's off and gone with my sister at the hold, so she won't be around any bronzes," she says wryly.

Sarah nods to Kiriya. "I'm Sarah, Baker Sr. Apprentice to Michel, and I'm soon going to be doing my Journeyman Project with Rikaeli," she says, jerking a thumb in her best friend's direction. "Well met," she offers again and smoothes out her skirt.

"Rashlyn, Tronidus... Yes, Cadgwith is fine. I trust Igen is flourishing?" Pyrene smiles to them. "Have you two met D'renn then? He's our new Weyrsecond you know... along with Daeyn over there." She's not beyond throwing the boring people at others. Sarhai and Tuya get a shamefaced grin, before she looks to teh soup. At least D'renn is now distracted with trying not to leer at Rashlyn.

Loren squeals as the bell's rang, scuttling towards Damia. "Ma'am?" Squeak goes the girl, again, though it's quiet. "What should I do?" Besides flee from whatever important-folk she doesn't want to see.

Kiriya nods back to Sarah, her heavy braid falling over her shoulder. "Well met. I'm Kiriya, a traveler. I traveled all the way from Ista to see what the fuss was about, and I trust I'll be staying here a while, seeing that I'm tired from the journey." The title of traveler fits this girl well.

Daeyn shakes her head. "You'll have to be more specific than that. There's more than one pathetic excuse for a bronzer just in this room ..." There may be a bite to her words, but it's toothless, and her tongue is firmly in cheek. She sits straight-backed, trying to look regal and approachable ... but not too approachable. A quizzical look over at Merra. "It wasn't working out here?"

Kariel slithers in from the back door, eyes wide and very very wary. His mother's here. Which, for most people, would be a joyous event. However, for Kare, who hasn't seen her since his 16th birthday... it probably isn't. And so, Kare becomes the wallflower... or more preferrably, the wall itself. No, he's not here. Or maybe he got lkucky and she didn't come. Even though she's been writing him for the past month saying she was. Mmph.

Tuya is more fiddling with breadsticks at the moment than doing much else, as the soup gets peered at. Then she slowly sticks the breadstick in there, swirling it a moment. She returns Pyrene's grin. Hey. At least she's not getting clumped under 'boring people' category.

Raevien arrives from deeper in the Weyr.

"KARIIIIIIEL!" The piercing greeting could only be from Lady Narina, until now keeping vigilant watch for her little boy. Waving her arm vigorously, she calls, "We're over here, darling! My boy's Weyrhealer, you know." The whole cavern probably know this by now. Along with the fact that she has a harper daughter. And lots of other things no one cares about.

Pyrene, always something of a fussy eater, discreetly murmurs to Tuya: "How's the soup?" Her words were quiet anyway, and they are certainly masked by Lady Narina's screech. The queenrider winces in sympathy for Kariel but makes no attempt to help him.

Sarah nods and laughs, her honey hair, wrapped into a bun. "It seems we end up with more and more here every day," she comments and grins. Looking at 'Mia and Michel, she grins, "They'll make good Masters," she comments and laughs, sending 'Mia a quick wave.

An ancient but well dressed lady enters. Her voice is like a fire lizard's shriek able to been metal louding complainting about being dragged half way around Pern for some dinner that she's not sure will be prepared properly. The poor rider who brought her has a very harried look of someone being punished to the nth degree is trying to calm her, "Now Lady Enid. Your husband has entrusted me to handle ..." So it goes.

Kiriya covers her ears quickly from Lady Narina's screeching. "Shells...that's...loud..."

Rikaeli smiles to the other girl near them,"Hi there. As Sarah said, I'm Rikaeli." She grins while fiddling slightly with her nails and crossing a leg. After a quick glance around she leaves her fiddled with fingers and fiddles with her necklace instead. She giggles at Sarah,"This place is stuffed full it seems," then looks over at the master-to-be Bakers.

Kaspar just grunts at the announcement of time to take seats. "About time." is grumbled as he finds himself a seat and plants himself down wherever he likes. "Shellcrack, that woman has a mouth on her." he grumbles to his neighbour at the lady's shriek.

Kariel crinkles immediately, taking a deep, well planned breath inwards before plastering the most brilliant of fake smiles he can muster. "Mothre(Mother. I'm on telnet. Excuse me. ) I was just looking for you... but you surely solved that problem!" A put-on chuckle, and he's at her side, giving her a small peck on the cheek. "Was the journey over pleasant?"

D'renn manages to split Lady Rashlyn from her husband, sending the Igen Lord Daeyn's way with a cheerful grin for his co-weyrsecond. Having seated the Lady, he promptly begins to wine and dine her to a shameful extent, winking at the only other male at the table--Sarhai--in a sort of studman-to-man fashion.

"The soup?" Tuya looks down at it, seemingly only now becoming aware of the fact she was playing with it. "Oh it's good..." she assumes, a quick sip from the spoon confirms this. "Yes, very good. I'm quite impressed. I'm so used to stuff that's given to /apprentices/ you see. And they have no taste." That's one of the reasons she agreed to put up with Kaspar to come here. No appies, and good food.

Sarhai winces at the piercing voice and casts Pyrene an inquiring glance, looking almost horrified. "Who ... ummm, who is /that/?" He asks in an aside, hoping nobody but Pyrene will hear him. He's lost, hopelessly and utterly lost in this crowd of strange faces, and the look on his face gives him away easily.

Meral enters the...crowded?...caverns. "Shards!.." he says under his breath, slinking off to a table to seat himself. "There has to be something going on that I don't know about..." A few people he's seen before, but, no...he can't seem to find any names. Just act like you knew there was something going on...right...

"Kariel's mother," Pyrene informs Sarhai. "Narina, wife to the holder of Lewis Hold. Poor lad." At Tuya's recommendation of the soup, she dips into it, muttering to her table companions: "If D'renn gets Rashlyn drunk, I really /am/ going to kill him."

Kiriya looks at Meral. "Join the club, I barely know anybody here either..."

Lord Trionidus and Lady Rashlyn are rather easily amused and thus, they delight in the company of the two Weyrseconds who are afforded nods of the two's heads and smiles all around, "Igen is doing /marvelously/," Rashlyn replies just as Tronidus again inclines his head, "Congratulations," Toward the Weyrseconds, of course. The bell startles the pair into closer contact and immediately, they excuse themselves, setting off for a table.

A kitchen helper nearly drops a full tray of Mushroom Caps when the Lady shrieks across the cavern to the Weyrhealer but manages to maintain her grip and bends slightly to offer the succulent fungi to the Lady and her tablemates as another helper bends from the other side to place bowls of Chilled Pear-Greencitrus soup before each person.

Merra quietly thanks the server who places the soup in front of her, though she's probably drowned out by Kariel's mother. "Well. I think if my mother had ever done that to me, I wouldn't even manage a -fake- smile," she comments dryly to Daeyn, gracefully looking about for the rather absent G'deon.

Kiriya takes a sip from her bowl of soup, and her face brightens with delight. "This soup is marvelous! The bakers and cooks are well trained here."

Tuya chuckles lightly, poking at the rapidly disintegrating breadstick still in her soup. It's not there. You didn't see it. "I'm amazed the lad is still able to hear." she says, muttering. "Oh, I don't know. It might be amusing." To gossip about, you understand. But obvious not desired. Nono. Really.

"Lo'en. Calm down, sweets. Jus' stay calm, ya? We be brin'in' out th 'food, so ye can 'elp serve it. Drudges 'r fine, but sometimes they not be knowin' what they be doin'." Damia notes with a faint note of distaste in her voice. But nothing more than that, really. Baker winces at the shout of Kariel and an amused glance is all she has time for before she's skittering about, ordering this drudge or that apprentice here, there, everywhere, to get everyone served.

Daeyn fights the quirking of her lips into a smile as she watches mother and son out of the corner of her eye. Her eyes unfocus briefly, communicating with Anwyllth as she takes a small sip of her drink ... and narrowly avoids spraying it over the Igen Lord as the brown makes a timely comment. "Thank you," she manages to murmur to them as if nothing had happened, managing not to groan under her breath until the Lord and Lady are safely away. "My mother would never dare," she returns softly. "My father, on the other hand ..." She trails off.

Raevien enters, eyeing the large crowds and all and quickly slipping past them. Because... he needs wine, first. Everything begins with wine, whether it be morning... or not. And such. "Hello," he says with a sniff at all the numerous Holder-types and all, and he slips past a few, heading for normal people. Because they're... normal.

Meral looks to Kiriya, chuckling lightly. "Aye...there's a club now?" the boy puns, shrugging thickly. "There are alot of people here...I don't remember ever seeing this place so crowded." Not like he's been here long enough to. But crowds bring normality for him. He's been in many, as a younger child.

Kaspar sniffs at his soup for a moment, then takes a sip. "Well, this is... different." he allows. Not /exactly/ his idea of food. More fairly congealed drink, but since he's meant to be here, he'll just order... "More wine!" is called out to the nearest server.

Lord Tronidus and Lady Rashlyn didn't do anything. Whatevever you saw about them moving isn't true. It's a lie! D'renn gets a delighted look from the Lady, "Well met then, D'renn. Who is it that has the pleasure of being your dragon, then?" The woman inquires politely of the man even as she revels in the fine treatement she's receiving from him. Lord Tronidus, meanwhile, guides Daeyn into a seat as well and procedes to speak with her, as well.

Lady Enid from Crom Hold has arrived, "This the way you treat your guests?" she says in a loud voice. "Rashlyn dear, you look like you've put on weight. How's your oldest?" She moves into the Living Cavern.

Loren accords Kariel and his mother with a wince; perhaps now /isn't/ the best time for visiting. A faint huff is emitted at Damia's comment, and the bakerlet sways, sniffling. "Ooh, I don't /want/ to calm down. Too many people. No R'ave. People." People from Telgar. This makes it worse, of course. "It's all very stressful." She feels bad for Damia and Michel, now.

Lady Narina positively beams as her son approaches, grabbing him by the collar to pull him close enough to bestow a big, wet kiss on his cheek. "Hello, darling! Have a seat next to your mother," she invites grandly. "Oh, I was so proud to hear about your promotion! I was just telling... er... these people here what a good healer you are!" And it's obvious, from the glazed eyes around her.

Kiriya frowns at Kinecha, inquiringly. "You're a bit familiar, although I don't know your name. Didn't I see you a while ago?"

Hearing a bellow for more wine, a drudge appears at the man's elbow offering a quick refill of his glass, a lovely Benden white especially procured for this event.

"I wold never have thought," Sarhai murmurs after another glance at the Lady. He shakes his head and returns his attention to his soup again, though those honey hued eyes keep glancing at the entrance as if he's waiting for someone.

Kariel just... grins meekly at the crowd around his mother, giving them a look that can only be read as, 'I'm so, so sorry.' "that's awfully sweet of you mother... Kalette just got Karette down for her nap... so I thought I'd come out to see how things are going..." And to see if she actually came. What /was/ he thinking? Ugh.

Kiriya feels better, sitting apart from these important people. Feeling insignificant is baaaaaad...

D'renn just beams at Rashlyn smugly and keeps her wine full. "Blue Trydanth," he tells her, before stage-whispering. "And do ignore anything Pyrene says about him. She seems to hold a grudge against me because I was her weyrlingmaster. She's never been good at accepting authority." Rashlyn's pouting mouth forms an appropriate 'O' of sympathy.

Kinecha glances around the cavern, identifying faces she knows, and noting those she doesn't, then stops at the girl who'd spoken to her. "Not sure," she says, in a low voice, before walking over to take a place near the wall, keeping an eye on the activities.

Loren's tagging along, which is fine by the journeywoman who bosses her around rather needlessly, "Make sure tha' there soup 'snae bein' spilled, yah, Lo?" But she also converses with the girl, attempting to calm her down, "Ah, but if'n ye aren't calm, they be thinkin' ye 'oldless 'r somethin' wi'out no manners, yah?" Too bad 'Mia can't even speak right. "R'ave'll be 'ere. I promise." Baker throws in at that point, even as she steps up to Lady Narina, "Lady Narina? 's the soup well?" A wink is sent Kare's direction, but nothing more from Damia, at least.

"Karette? Karette! Kariel, I want to see my granddaughter!" Narina demands imperiously. Kariel winces again and sighs as he links his arm in his kmother's, nodding slowly. "You'll have to be quiet." he murmurs and groans under his breath. As ifthat'll happen. The pair exit, mother rather pulling son along behind her.

Rashlyn wrinkles her nose, shaking her head just a bit. "My duties to Trydanth, of course, but I would never have thought..." About a weyrwoman? Well, it /is/ Py that we're talking about here. The wine is sipped without a care in the world -- not the most bright thing this woman's ever done. As soup is put before her, her eyes widen and she squeals with delight, placing her wine down before gazing into the lovely-looking soup, "Oh, what do you suppose it is?"

Meral watches the more 'important' people converse, pale azure eyes wide. Oh, now what are they talking about? Thier conversations only reach his senses as a jumble of murmurs. Food doesn't seem to interest him at the moment, such as it does constantly when he normally enters.

Pyrene starts seething, nearly spitting soup across the table at D'renn. By dint of great effort, she manages to swallow her mouthful and murmurs sweetly: "But D'renn, I never saw you during our weyrlinghood--oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring that up." She turns to her seating companions, and also lowers her voice theatrically: "That was when D'renn was forced to stand down from the position for shirking his duties." Revenge obtained, she seeks potential gossip. "Expecting anybody?"

Michel stands quietly beside the kitchen entrance, the first time today that he's not rushing about. His sharp eyes scan the caverns, noting the bobbing heads of drudges and other helpers he's recruited to make sure that they are properly spaced between the guests so that none are ignored. He motions to a young man to go assist Crom's Lady Holder to a seat and see that she has wine and anything else she needs.

Tuya blinks. "Expecting?" She glances about herself. "Oh? Personally? No." Expecting the Craftmaster to be an officious gi... er... guy, yes, but otherwise? "No, I have depressingly few people I know outside my job."

Kiriya pouts slightly and looks over in the direction of the important people. She's probably never going to have a conversation with ANYONE important, but it suits her just fine. She does, however, hope to maybe get noticed by some of these important folk so she can make a good first appearance.

Lady Nerina completely ignores the baker and thus, she shrugs, and continues circulating. "'ere's what I wancha t'd'," Is directed Lorenway. "I wantcha t' circ'late. Make sure eve'ythin's okay like I be jus' doin' 'ere, yah?" Damia has stopped in her endless bustling in order to look Loren directly in the eyes -- make sure you do it and such.

Sarhai , who had been following this exchange with a faintly perplexed expression, winces a little when Pyrene addresses him suddenly, "Huh? ... Oh, no, not really." He blushes and keeps his eyes fixed to his dinner. "I was just ... never mind."

Merra can't quite control her smirk as Daeyn is procured by Igen's Lord Holder, whom the resident nods politely towards. She looks down at her soup, gingerly sipping at at the unusual concoction, though her expression quickly turns to incredulous delight. "Mmm, wow, this is soooo good. Michel deifinitely gets to make more of this." You know, like, feed the hungry, feed the Merra?

Kaspar, his rather booming voice, cuts about the conversation about him for several seats. "And then the journeyman told /me/ to sack firestone. Can you imagine?" From the way the man next to him is shaking his head, he either agrees, or is trying to stop his ears from ringing.

D'renn draws his brows firmly together in a scowl aimed solely at Pyrene before again attending to his dining companion. Lis would no doubt be unamused. "Some goldriders are like that," he tells Rashlyn, wagging his head wisely. "Strong personalities, strong wills is supposedly what a queen looks for. Unfortunately, these traits aren't always tempered by good sense and selflessness. I expect you'd understand that, adminstering such a large Hold."

Kinecha actually recognizes a few of the Lords and Lady from her travelling days, and decides to stay far far away from them, and stay where she is, in the shadows, up against the wall, where she can watch the festivities without being noticed herself.

Raevien would recognize the few here and there, seeing he's delivered messages to more than one of the minor (and major) holds about High Reaches, and would therefore avoid as many as possible, slipping over to a large pot of... something. Be it poridge, stew, or the etcetera. He's hungry, either way, and wine doesn't go good on an empty stomach. "Here goes to hoping its not poisoned," he says, lacking all enthusiasm, leaving only the raw of sarcasm.

Torne decides to take Kinecha's route; the resident snatches a random foodstuff, and leans against a random wall. Yeah. Randomness is the thing of the day, apparently...

Daeyn keeps her face straight as she speaks to Lord Tronidus, minor snafu or not. "D'renn's not a bad man," she feels obliged to explain. A sideways look is cast over at Merra, brownrider abandoning her usual reserve to pull a childish face. "I hope you're quite comfortable ..." Back to the Lord of Igen, of course, before she takes the excuse to concentrate on the soup, eyes closing as she savors.

Pyrene chooses to ignore D'renn now, eyes narrowing at Sarhai, before she shakes her head at Tuya. "I meant him. Sarhai's a cagey type." She leans back slightly, allowing the two to introduce themselves over her if they wish.

A troupe of youngsters emerge from the kitchens at a word from Michel thru the hanging and begin gathering up the empty soup bowls, rushing them back to the kitchens for washing up. Servers follow in their wake with wine, klah and juice refills for whoever wishes. The drudge by the bell yangs the pull rope once more. CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! The signal for the meal to be served.

Lady Enid moves to her place at the table shrugging off the rider's escort, noting who's here and who's not. It's so fun being fashionable late. She cackles at something what was said. Her laughter is worse then her voice. Finding her place, "You've seated me by HIM!"

Kiriya finishes her klah, and holds up her glass. "More klah, please!" Lady Rashlyn nods her head, looking as if she understands, but obviously not. After all, why would you want such a blunt woman in a position of weyrwoman? Well, you never know the mysterious ways of dragonds, right? And thus, the woman doesn't question it and instead, turns her tanned face toward the soup, already spooning it delicately into her mouth. "Oh, of course. It takes quiet a few traits to manage Igen -- and Tronidus sure knows what he's doing." Doting, much?

"Oooh." Tuya leans forward, before pulling back, wary of getting soup on her tunic. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Sarhai the cagey type." she says teasingly. As you can see, she's had a lot of practice at being somewhat unsubtle. "I'm Tuya, Headwoman of the Tillek MineHold..." Hey... did she introduce herself to Pyrene? She can't remember. Ah well. Now she has.

The Lord Holder of Igen mostly listens, having fallen silent, an amused expression upon his young features, "Oh? Might I inquire as to what made him step down? Other than shirking his duties -- there must've been a reason for it." His voice is semi-low so as not to carry to the bluerider, but loud enough to carry to Daeyn over the din. A grin is flashed her direction as he spoons soup into his mouth, "Quite comfortable. /Wonderful/ food, as well. Remind me to thank the cooks."

Kiriya silently agrees with Igen's Lord holder. She's beginning to like this party...

Pyrene ohs, startled, as her soup is whipped away from her almost before she has finished it. "Thank-you, that was lovely..." she murmurs to the helpers hoping that some form of her compliment would be passed on to those who deserve it. She's grateful as Tuya introduces herself at long last. She's always scared that she's supposed to recognise people at these things and never dares ask for an introduction. "Oh, I forgot to thank you and..." Memory gropes and actually finds something: "Kaspar for those stones you sent us recently. Like dragon-eyes, they were that clear."

Sarhai blushes an even darker crimson now, his eyes taking on a hurt expression, "I'm not cagey, just not overly social," he murmurs, avoiding everyon's gaze for a moment before raising his eyes to the Tillekian Headwoman, "My pleasure, Tuya! And really, I'm not cagey, just not used to large crowds," he apologizes again, reaching a slender hand out to Tuya.

Loren whines at Damia. "I can't... circulate. I might... run into someone." Cue a rather shifty-eyed expression. "Can't I stand by the door?" A sniff, and she directs herself in no particular direction for some rather incomplete 'circulation'.

Meral slouches into his chair, staring intently at the wall. Oh, very nice. Perhaps it'll move. After a few tedious moment, sky-colored orbs swirv back to the people. Mabey there's someone he know now? No such luck. Perhaps someone will be nice enough to come over and start a conversation with him. That's always the bad thing about parties. If you can't strut around being big and improtant, you aren't noticed.

Still on duty, it wouldn't do for Kinecha to drink anything alcoholic, so she walks quietly to get a glass of juice, taking a sip, while she wanders around the tables, near the wall, back to her spot in the shadows, trying to remain as anonymous as possible in her black and blue guards-uniform.

D'renn is quite happy to run down the Reaches goldriders as long as Nuff isn't around to hear him. Except maybe Areiah. "Well, I can see Igen is flourishing, and I'm sure that can't be entirely due to Tronidus," he says smoothly to Rashlyn. "A Hold always reflects its lady as well as its lord, you know. And I find that the Lady usually sets the disposition of the hold. This evening, I understand why all the Igenites I meet are the most pleasant and courteous of people," he fibs blithely.

Kiriya starts to speak to the throng of important people. Strange that a mere traveler dares to speak to such a crowd. "I'd like to acknowledge the cooks for their excellent work and the drudges for making this party a worthwhile event."

Kiriya stands, and raises her glass. "To the ones who made this possible!" Pyrene grins at Kiriya. "I'll toast that," she calls, refilling her own glass. "And again, after the main course."

Sip, sip, sip, huh? Merra looks rather surprised as her soup bowl is literally taken from under her hand-held spoon. "My compliments to the chefs," she blurts abruptly. Kiriya is eyed, and then eyed some more - who is she? - before the resident raises her own glass. "To Damia and Michel," she adds.

Kylari makes one heck of an entrance: The long, lean Herder barrels in, chasing a blue flit with a homicidal intent shining in silver eyes. Not aware of the feast, she trips over a random foot, springs into a roll to prevent her total demise... And lands by Michel's feet.

To be honest, Tuya doesn't know very much about the exports of her hold. She's too busy trying to stop Apprentices from painting it. (Don't ask...) But still, she's good at bluffing. "Oh yes," she blinks. She probably saw a hide about it, so she's not lying about knowing. "Those stones... uh... we thought you'd like them." she tries. Yes. The rock-challenged right here, just don't ask her to name them. She smiles broadly, and extends a hand to shake Sarhai's "Well met. And I get the feeling. Although after sitting in a dining room full of apprentices, you get used to it." Wait... there was a toast? "Uh... yeah!" She'll drink to that. Whatever it was.

Daeyn shakes her head, murmuring back, "That was about the long and short of it ... long absences, without notice. He'd simply vanish and no one would see hide nor hair of him. To be fair, I think he was going through something ..." A lapse during which the soup gets her devotion. "It usually is," she says warmly, smile creasing her lips. "But this time, they've outdone themselves. Aye, to our talented Headcooks!" she calls.

Rashlyn ducks her head, a faint flush touching her features as she leans back away from her half-finished soup as it's cleared away, "Oh, of course, I have a hand in the Hold, yes. I like to have everything in order and," Another duck of her head, "The people do tend to be polite -- but that's mostly of their own accord," She notes, although a proud beam wreathes her features. Another moment goes by and she mentions, "Of course, I've never been to High Reaches before -- I was not able to make the last Hatching. It's rather majestic, even if it is quite a bit colder than I'm used to."

Kylari freezes, yes. _Hopefully_ no one saw her little escapade.. She scrambles to her feet, snatches the firelizard that caused her cheeks to flush so badly, mumbles an apology to the head cook, and tries to 'be the wall'.

Loren once again receives a stern glance from her mentor. "A'right, den, ye get t' wash out th' soup bowls? 'r mebbe 'elp 'and out th' main course? C'me now, Loren..." But with that, Damia has had quite enough circling for now and so, dragging the apprentice with her, slips up to Michel's side, a beam wreathing her features. "They all be quite comf'ble, Michel." Beam, beam, beam. Has anyone /seen/ 'Mia smile so much? Well, probably considering the fact that she smiles quite often -- but just pretend. "Oh, th' meal. Lo needs sommat t' d' -- ye think she c'ld 'elp wheel out th' main ccourse?" Mwaha. Oooh. Distraction. "Oh! An' there's Areiah an' M'rin -- I didnae even see 'em come in, yah?"

Sarhai returns Tuya's smile tentatively, his cheeks still glowing with his embarrassment. "Well met, Tuya," he replies and takes her hand to squeeze it lightly, careful not to stick his elbow into Pyrene's face. "Well, I'm afraid I'm not familiar with Holds since I grow up with the traders of the high deserts of Kerron." He almost gets talkative but then the toast is made and he reaches for his glass to raise it too.

Michel nods slightly to the girl scrambling up from the floor and tries to be understanding but he's rather distracted right now and isn't likely to be as cordial as he usually would be. He motions to a pair of helpers to escort the Weyrleader and Senior Weyrwoman to their seats and nods to the bell drudge who yanks the cord yet again. CLANG! *pause* CLANG! *pause* CLANG! to call for attention.

Lord Tronidus nods, slowly, as if soaking up grave information. Which it almost is -- except that down in Igen, it doesn't really affect him. "Well, a man does need his time, I suppose." A sideways glance at the Weyrsecond, but nothing more. The man's cup is raised in a toast, "To the headcooks!" A private toast, but a rather fitting one.

Pyrene is as relieved that Tuya doesn't want to get into the finer details of the stones. This potential crisis averted by both, she quips wryly, "I hope you approve of our food even if you can't eat to the background music of apprentice chatter." And then she hushes at the clang of the bell and turns her eyes towards Areiah and M'rin.

"Word of advice." Tuya says, sitting back down and meeping as the bell starts to clang. "Never go to a CraftHold. Lots of annoying appies, and the food's lousy. Nothing like here." she adds the last to Pyrene, speaking hurriedly, before turning to look at Michel. Yes. She's paying attention. See.

Kinecha turns her head toward the bell, seeking out the source of the sound, seeing the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman, and stands just a bit straighter at the sight of them, even if they weren't likely to see her hidden away in the shadows.

The moment they got to their seats, the Weyrleaders, as they hear the bell, are forced to stand again. Cordial smiles are upon their features, as they raise their glasses in a toast. The drudges and kitchen helpers continue to serve the main course as the pair speaks, "Summer has descended upon our lovely High Reaches, melting its snows," M'rin begins, being the Weyrleader, and Areiah finishes for him, "And with it, comes new beginnings, and especially, good food! To spring, our Weyrcooks, and the lovely food we have been graced with!" The cups are raised in the traditional toast and then a sip is taken by both. M'rin then adds, "And let us dine!" And then, they sit down, done with their contribution to the evening.

The rider comes back to Lady Enid and whispers something in her ear. She nods. Standing she says loudly for all to hear, "Lovely Party but my husband has sent for me. Excuse me."

Pyrene touches her glass to first Sarhai's, then Tuya's, and yes, even Rashlyn's and D'renn's, murmuring with the rest of the room: "To summer, weyrcooks and eating." That done, she drains her glass and takes up her cutlery for the main course. At Tuya's compliments to their cuisine she merely winks. "Wait until dessert."

Another crowd of kitchen helpers and various servers flood from the kitchens into the Living Caverns with steaming plates. Each plate is set before each person, any used dishes that were not recovered earlier are taken away now, clean flatware replacing each piece used.

"Oh, I don't intend to," Sarhai grins at the advice given but falls quiet when the bell clangs and the Weyrleaders make their speech. Once they're finished and the conversations are taken up again, he continues with a little smile, "And this is one of the reasons I like living here, the food is fantastic."

"Dessert?" Tuya smiles broadly, taking a rather large sip of her wine. Abstaining from it for... oh dear... turns upon turns, will make a woman do that. "My favourite." She can't wait. Really. She should try and sneak up to the weyr more often if the people who make this stuff cook here.

D'renn joins in with the toast with gusto, as he usually does. He also takes this opportunity to refill Rashlyn's glass. "Ahh, well. One of our junior queens Chayath will be clutching soon, perhaps you can come to that Hatching. No doubt, we'll find suitable candidates from your own hold to Stand," he happily witters on to her.

Eyebrows slide upward and Igen's Lady Holder toasts, "She has? I hadn't heard. Perhaps someone will be Searched from Igen. We do have the occasional Candidate upon the Sands, even an Impressed one now and again." Rashlyn sounds rather proud at this fact and, as Pyrene clinks her glass to hers, the Lady Holder beams and raises it higher before taking a sip of the wine D'renn has kept rather full in that particular glass.

Daeyn joins the public toast with decided energy, a faint flush to those usually monotone cheeks, glass clinking against those of Tronidus and her other nearest neighbors. Never mind that there isn't anything remotely like wine in the glass ... it doesn't change the sentiment, does it? "Maybe so, maybe so," she mutters dourly to the Igen Lord's statement, not entirely convinced.

Kinecha is able to pick up piece of conversation from where she's standing, but doesn't interfere with any of the conversations, not really being very interested in talking to any Lords or Lady Holders. And why would they even be interested in speaking with a guard anyway? Not to mention the fact that she was here in official capacity, looking out for trouble.

Pyrene masks a grimace as she realises that it's fish she's eating. Still, it's beautifully seasoned, and, when taken with the tubers, far from offensive. Determined to stand up for herself, she nods across to Rashlyn. "Yes, Chayath, and Cadgwith should be rising soon enough as well," she hopes. "And of /course/ you're invited to both Hatchings." See? She can be polite too.

Merra raises her glass along with everyone else at the Weyrleaders' toast, though her gaze slides obliquely towards Rashlyn at the mention of Search and Impression. No one's still a bit put out here. Really. She nudges Daeyn to catch the brownrider's attention. "Hey, has Anwyllth seen Nylanth or his rider?" she asks in a murmur, flushing slightly. Being not single is still something she's used to.

"Hatchings are always interesting. A little too warm, but interesting." Of course, Tuya can never get time off, can she? *le sigh* She stabs her fork into the packtail, savouring the taste. "Pretty eggs." she murmurs, flinching as Kaspar makes what he considers a boistrous joke, and his laughter resounds in the caverns. "Sharding /man/." she mutters.

Lord Tronidus gives a sketchy grin Daeyn's direction as he begins to eat, listening in on PYrene's conversation, "Oh? Best of luck with the Flight," He notes, huffing just a little bit at the delicate topic at hand. Meanwhile, Lady Rashlyn takes it all in good time and delight creeps onto her features, "Oh? A double Hatching -- or rather, close, it'll be, then? Delightful!" Squeal. Munch.

Sasha waves as she enters and glancing at Ilare she whistles at the immense spread of food, before lifting her long skirt a little to ease her progress into the room. "I'm glad there is some left" she quips as she wanders over to the groaning tables.

Damia is actually helping to dish out the main course to those of the more esteemed guests to this particular powow. "Sasha! Ilare! Take a seat!" The pair receive a grin from the serving baker as they enter, a wink also offered their direction. They would get here /juuust/ in time for the main course -- no messing about with the appetizers or anyhting. Nono.

Merra turns a whiter shade of pale as two more people enter. Sasha, despite being Kamikaze, isn't eyed half as much as the brownrider with her, a brownrider that gets a distictly nervous look. Concentrate on the meal, she tells herself, ducking down in her seat. "So... enjoying Weyrsecond duties?" she teases her friend, smirking.

Daeyn shakes her head. "No," she replies simply. "He's kept a sharp lookout, but no sign yet ..." She blinks a little, tilting her head towards the other conversation. "A double-hatching?" She sounds faintly apprehensive. Merra gets lifted brows ... just about off the charts, really. "I'm doing my best to," she says drily.

Various servers wander between the tables, refilling wineglasses, klah and juice mugs. They also make certain that everyone has a napkin, replacing soiled ones or those that have fallen from laps or otherwise gone missing.

Pyrene shrugs at Tuya and winks. "You're welcome to come too. Tell whoever's in charge of Time-Off that I invited you personally." At Daeyn's question she shakes her head. "I doubt it. Cadgwith's not coming into heat yet, although I'm guessins she /should/ soon." Her face twists wryly. She can never figure out her dragon's cycle.

Ilare giggles lightly, tossing her mane a little back over her shoulders, following Sasha as they find seats. Damia earns herself a grin for the wave, which is returned, before she pulls out a chair, minding her skirt as she sits. "My stars.. That.. thats a lot of food." And it all smells delicious. Be glad her dragon can't fit in here, or he'd be sampling right along with them. And that would be a high compliment indeed.

Tuya chuckles lightly, covering her mouth and swallowing her food before she grins. "Ah... I don't know. Islita... she's our apprentice master, might not forgive me for leaving her on her own there. But then..." Who cares? "I look forward to it." she says, raising her glass slightly. "Hey... when did this empty?" she wonders out loud, gesturing to a server to refill it.

Kinecha is suddenly glad that she's not here to join in the eating part, seeing fish brought out. Not exactly her favorite dish, though she did feel a small pang of hunger, standing off to the side, watching everyone else eat.

"Not a double, but if you come to any, come to Chayath's," D'renn recommends. "Chayath lays such lovely looking dragons. In fact she laid..." Pause. Bringing up the dragon of his weyrmate might not be such a good idea right now. "Rixesith," he says instead. "The dragon of our young Weyrleader up there."

Sasha slips onto a chair, arranging the soft folds of her long gown around her, unconscious of the way her preraphaelite style ringlets wafts as she moves. " Hey Damia! This is wonderful! Sorry we are late..." she smiles apologetically and then surveys the food in front of her.

Rashlyn definitely made a mistake there, and a faint pout appears on her features, although it isn't anything that stays. Instead, it's fleeting, and a smile appears once again upon her features. "Not a double? How close will the Hatchings be, then?" Perhaps if she figures it just right, she can even stay on in 'Reaches for the duration of the time between the two Hatchings. Eyebrow slides upward and a shrug moves the Lady Holder's shoulders even as she glances at her Lord. "Well, I'm sure Cadgewith lays beautiful eggs as well -- although she has only Clutched once, am I right?"

Damia shrugs as she settles the last plate she was slotted to carry, "Ah, ye be riders -- ye 'ave other thin's on ye mind. 't least ye came fer th' main course an', 'course, dessert." Winkwink. Gaze casts about for Loren, but, as she isn't seen, the woman frowns, but goes about her business as usual, mingling, serving, ofttimes having a word or two with Michel about the logistics of this or that.

Well, they WERE late for a reason. Shopping and all that.. Really. It's a very good excuse. Ilare accepts two glasses of wine from a passing drudge, handing one to Sasha as she sips the other. Merra is noticed, and the object of intense scrutiny winks and waves, oblivious to the meaning of the looks given her. Pyrene isnoticed and nodded at, before Ilare turns back to focus amber gaze on Damia. "My, this looks amazing. Now I see why you wouldn't let us in the kitchens.."

Merra tries most unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh at her friend's expression, leaning over to give the rider a quick one-armed hug. "Well, that's what you get for being such a good rider that they couldn't help but ask you," she replies, half teasingly, half quite sincerely. The object of her frequent searching glances is spotted then, and she waves towards the entering bronzerider, getting up, and waving back at Ilare with a rather startled expression. And if she looks suddenly shy... well... she isn't exactly dressed like her usual self.

"Just the once," D'renn agrees dismissively. "And really, she's young yet and not as pretty as Chayath to start with. I suppose it's worth waiting to see who the sire is, but otherwise... More wine?"

Pyrene covers her mouth as a giggle threatens at Sarhai's abruptly slumbering form. "Can't take his wine, apparently," she comments to Tuya, refilling the headwoman's glass. On the verge of filling her own glass again, she spots G'deon, winces, and elects to have juice instead. "Of course, it's always as well to know your limit," she murmurs, flicking waves to Sasha, Ilare and Gid.

Michel steps back into the kitchens where voices can once more be heard though not the words and suddenly there is silence from the kitchens again as the clanging of pots and pans and the clink of dishes as the youngsters wash up the dishes as the meal progresses. The journeyman reemerges and wanders slowly around the caverns, nodding and smiling and asking the occassional, "Is everything alright here? Do you have everything you need?" of the guests.

Tuya notices the sudden reaction to G'deon's entrance, and quirks an eyebrow. Lemme guess.... something Tuya has no idea about? Oh well. "Oh yes. Limits. Limits can be good, I suppose." Not for her. For other people, naturally.

Rashlyn, attempting to stay at least marginally diplomatic, inclines her head, "Of course," Is all she elects to say before holding out her glass, "Lovely wine -- Benden, I presume? Of course, Tillek tithes to High Reaches, does it not? How did you manage to procure such fine wine?" Change the conversation from knocking Pyrene's gold to wine. Almost everyone on Pern has an interest in wine, so it's usually a fairly safe topic.

Kinecha moves back toward the kitchens, along the wall, to get a refill of juice, and a roll of some sort to stop her stomach from rumbling. Moving back she notices G'deon coming in, and gives him a slight smile, though she doubt he'll see it, what with the guard still moving around in the shadows.

Daeyn shakes her head. "You think I should try bumbling incompetence, then?" she murmurs, but it's mostly to herself, brownrider snorting loudly as her friend's attention shifts. She was never like this. No, really. Of course, there's a wonderful meal to concentrate on, and so she does, listening half-idly to the flow of conversation around her.

G'deon strides in slowly, offering a nod to those he doesn't know, returning waves and even handshakes at various points. He's still just entering however and hasn't quite noticed everyone. He manages to snatch a glass of wine, white of course, then stands up as tall as he can to see if he can find an empty seat somewhere.

Food, glorious food. Plate before her is empty, but not for long. Ilare's eyes widen a little as she realises the company they're in - Weyrleaders, CraftMasters, Lord and Lady Holders.. My my. Eyes return to Sasha, and a grin flickers across Ilare's features. "Shall we begin?" They missed the start, but the main course shouldn't go to waste, eh?

Pyrene notices the quirked eyebrow and sighs. "Let's just say that G'deon over there had to help me out when I was over my limit once." She shoots a glance to D'renn, but appears to have chosen the one moment in the conversation when he's not running her or Cadgwith down. Denied the opportunity to run /him/ down for impudence, she turns back to Tuya. "Met many riders? I don't know how often the sweepriders land at the mine."

Sasha grins as wine is poured liberally into her glass and her dark eyes light up a little as G'deon enters. Looking to see if Ilare sitting next to her has noticed his entrance she says nothing but nods to him with a warm smile.

Tuya shakes her head, sipping at her newly refilled glass. "Oh not many. They hardly ever land at the MineHold. In fact, I they usually just pass overhead and go straight onto Tillek. It's not very far away, and it's bigger, you see. If they do, it's just to pick up firestone." And she's not involved with handling the stinky stuff, believe you me.

An empty seat? But of course. Merra strides over, as much as the dress lets her, to G'deon, smiling. "Hey, you. I was wondering if you were going to show," she greets quietly, relfexively laying a hand on his arm. "I saved you a seat, if you're interested? And... you look wonderful, by the way," she finishes. Unable to resist, however, she adds, grinning, "Very handsome, if I may say so."

Michel pauses by the table that still contains a few bottles of wine and glances at the lables, a snap of his fingers sends a pair of junior apprentices scurrying to the Kitchens for several more bottles. It just wouldn't do for them to run out of wine before the desserts are served, now would it? After seeing the bottles safely to the tables and the young men opening them for the returning helpers he continues his rounds of the cavern once more.

A random transport rider, Jessilane, sits quietly at one of the tables near the entrance. Her green is out on the beach, soaking up the summer sun. The young woman signals a drudge to refill her glass with more wine, and then looks around, absently munching at her food.

Pyrene isn't involved with the stinky stuff either, thank Faranth. Her nose wrinkles at the mere thought. "Well, may as well make the most of it then," she suggests to the woman. "That's Sasha and Ilare, the green and brownriding girls sitting next to each other--Sasha's the one with the incredible long curls, and Ilare's the redhead. The bronzeriding heartbreaker who just entered is G'deon," and from the way her mouth twists, Pyrene's not one of the surprisingly few women who are unaffected by his charms. "Daeyn's the other Weyrsecond over there--D'renn here being the first, but you don't want to know him, I take it? Oh, and more importantly than the riders, those two are the cooks to whom we owe the evening, Damia and Michel." And her hand discreetly points out the pair.

"Yes, I was late running errands," G'deon replies to Merra, a soft smile on his face. "I couldn't miss this though." He holds his arm out as if to escort the young woman back to her seat. "Ah, over by Daeyn there?" he asks, raising his other hand, wine glass in tow, as if to salute the brown rider. After a moment he grins down at her. "You know, those colors look excellent on you, especially with those eyes of yours." Not sappy, not much, just a point of fact as far as the rider is concerned.

Tuya twists slightly in her seat, fork pushing the remains of her food about on the plate. Yes, she's a fast eater. "Bronzeriding heartbreaker?" she echoes, regarding G'deon for a moment, (heh... she doesn't see it... maybe it's the fact that having twins has soured her on men in general) before turning back, taking note of all the others Pyrene points out, filing their names away. "Remind me to thank them at some point." she murmurs. She'll send them... a basket of rocks or something...

Ilare giggles as she helps herself to food. Any food, actually. She's really not fussed. And it all smells great! But that's not why she's giggling - Via's in the midst of making poor K'sair very uncomfortable, (and she's not even proddy! For shame!) while N'sync attempts to chat up one of the young crafters who had arrived for the feast. Head tilts and eyes drift as she hears Pyrene mention her name, and finally bronzer is noticed. A pause, raised eyebrows, then a light shrug as brown rider turns back to her food. And her tablepartner. "So, what you trying first, Sash?"

Slinking into the cavern from the Bowl, Tekin is obviously looking for someone. Spotting his target, the young guard recruit moves along the wall toward Kinecha, whispering something in her ear. "What?!" Kinecha says, a little to loud, lowering her voice, before continuing. "Those two'll be the death of me.... Take over here, will you, Tek? Doesn't seem like there'll be any trouble." And with that the tall whiteblond guard, removes herself from the cavern.

Merra nods, linking her arm through his. "Though you could sit with Ilare and Sasha, if you prefer," she answers, adding, "I wouldn't mind. They're clutchmates, after all." If a quick shadow passes through her expression, let it pass. She finds herself blushing again at his words. "Thank you. I tend to stick to these colors, I guess," she explains lightly. Then, quieter, "I'm glad you're here."

A few youngsters, a bit damp and waterstained, appear from the Kitchens to remove the empty plates and leaving the plates of those not finished with their meal as yet. Small baskets of bread and trays of appetizers are offered to fill in the spaces before the desserts make their appearance.

Pyrene isn't soured on men, just kids. "I'll pass the thanks on. Michel's actually an item with Daeyn there," she adds. "And Damia's... Well, Damia seems to take care of relationships just fine by herself." Yes, she's entered into the gossip phase of the introductions. "Ilare and G'deon were rumoured to be a couple, but not anymore... I'm not sure if Ilare's got her eye on anybody else, although I suspect that both she and Sasha have a crush on N'sync." And she points out /that/ boyishly charming brownrider.

Sasha's eyes glaze slightly for a second, and a deep frown followed by a leap to her feet in one sweeping movement...." Michel..Damia...I'm really sorry...this is so wonderful...but Branwyth isn't feeling well...I need to go....." Hurridly she slings an arm around Ilare with a whispered " You look great in that dress...knock em dead!" before edgine out from her place and moving towards the door...and with one parting shot at Pyrene she retorts..." Me fancy N'sync? In his dreams!"

Daeyn glances up with a brief smile for G'deon. "Good day, bronzerider ..." she calls over, before her attention is arrested by a debate on the other side of the table. Her eyes drift over the flurry, picking out familiar faces, offering a nod here and there ... and a brief, conspiratorial grin at someone across the room who just doesn't seem to recognize her in a dress.

Ok, now Tuya /definitely/ doesn't see the appeal. But she'll take Pyrene's word for it. "Uh-huh." she says, eyeing that particular brownrider with a raises eyebrow. And Sasha just confirms it. Not everyone goes for boyishly charming, then... So much more gossip than at the MineHold... suddenly she likes gossiping.

As she mingles, Damia manages to catch Pyrene's gossip and a wink is shot at the diners around the goldrider. This particular baker doesn't much care what her reputation is -- instead, she's quite willing to be whatever others want her to be -- if it makes them happy, of course. "N'sync?" Nose wrinkles, "'ve 'eard 'orrible thin's 'bout tha' boy, yah?" That's all the mingling Damia does with that particular group, however, before moving off to others and adding snippets of conversation, or inquiring as to the guests' comfort as they wait on the deserts.

Lady Rashlyn doesn't really know these people but quirks an eyebrow 'Mia's direction as she pauses. Lord Tronidus has taken to chatting in deep tones with a journeyman with herder's knots -- Rashlyn'll have to speak with him about that? "An item, then?" Already, she's had several glasses of wine and the Lady Holder isn't likely to be /too/ coherent, but just pretend, "An' now they aren't? Surely 'tis his fault." Blame it all on Gids, that's it.

Pyrene laughs at Sasha's exit, her comment having mainly been to see if the two riders were paying any attention to other conversation. "Well, maybe not N'sync then," she admits to Tuya. "But I'm determined to pin /some/ gossip on those two. Let me know if you spot anything. You've got fresh eyes."

"On which two? Sasha and someone else... or...?" Tuya fiddles with her sleeve a moment as she waits for the dessert, and a clue as to what she's looking for. Believe her, she'll look for it when she knows what it is though. Gotta fill the time between courses somehow.

Poor Tekin is left standing with a rather confused look on his face, before realizing that he's all alone in a room full of important people. Nervously he attempts to adjust his uniform, while at the same time trying to brush of dust from his pants.

Squeak? Blinking rapidly, Ilare finds herself minus table partner, and.. What? It appears she's not the only one who was paying partial attention to Pyrene, for the star of the party himself, N'sync, lets out a faint laugh, and blows the gold rider a kiss, coupled with a broad wink. "But my dear Pyrene, you know you're the one I want.. The only one I need!" Vague laughter from other riders trickles around the boybander browner, but Ilare simply snorts her amusement and reaches for more food. Rumours? Her? There've ben enough already..

"Well, Sasha's gone, so Ilare... and well, anybody?" Pyrene suggests. "I don't always get to keep track because I have to mingle. You'd be surprised how that can hinder gossip acquiring."

G'deon finally spots Sasha and Ilare as Merra points them out, and his voice falters for just a second. "No... I'm sure they'd be happier remaining at their wing table," he offers as a shallow excuse. The /are/ from the same wing though, so it could work. "Seems I've missed the main course," he add dryly, pulling out a chair for Merra. He scans the caverns quickly, picking out the various guests in attendance. "Do ye know if there's dancing later?" he asks before taking a seat as well.

Pyrene also makes a decidedly unladylike gesture in N'sync's direction which succinctly conveys that he hasn't got a chance.

Tuya tries not to snicker too obviously at the interplay. She's meant to be representing the miners right? Well, actually Kaspar is, but he's rapidly on the road to drunkeness, and she just tagged along because she was told to. Not that she's objecting or anything. "Oh I can." she says. "We don't often have any sort of events at the minehold, but if we do... someone has to do the hostess thing." And guess who that is. Muggins here. Fuuun.

K'sair very very slowly pries Via's fingers from his sleeve, and manages to slip out of the young green rider's clutches before Netteth's rider can react. Oi.. Gids is waved at, ex-herder managing to look cheerful as he dodges through the gaggle not seated till he finds his way towards.. "'Lare! You're safe, right?" And down sits Raveth's rider, managing to look less of a wherry stuck in the path of a hungry dragon.

Leandra stands near the exit out of the Living Caverns, not sure if she should join in since she's late and they're are so many people she doesn't know. Lea also doesn't want to be rude and disrupt this wonderful feast. Trying to stand somewhat in the shadows, she ponders whether she should go home or not as she eyes the delicious looking food.

D'renn continues to happily ply Lady Rashlyn with wine, until suddenly an odd look crosses his face. Most likely a certain message from a certain greenrider passed through a certain blue. A muttered excuse, and he hastens out on his bandy legs.

The drudge stationed next to the kitchen entrance and the bell tugs the pullcord one last time. CLANG! *pause* CLANG! CLANG! signalling the service of the desserts. A stream of servers emerge from the kitchen bearing trays of cake and sweet ices, offering the selection to each and every guest so that they can take their pick.

Pyrene is relieved to see the back of D'renn, and absently waves Leandra to take his seat just in case the weyrlingmaster changes his mind. "Oh! Dessert!" she squeaks. Forget gossip, /now/ the true importance of the evening becomes apparent.

Ilare eyes 'Sair, sniggering as Netteth's rider sends entreating looks the male brownrider's way. "What makes you think I'm safe?" Ilare is rather determined to have at least a partially good time, a certain bronzer's presence hardly about to spoil this. Especially since.. "Ooo.. desserts? Yum!" But which to choose? Snagging something at random, gold eyes gleam as they turn back to K'sair. "So, when you going to tell Hyzen?" Innocent look is given her clutchmate.

Dessert? Yesyesyes. Tuya manages to stop herself from bouncing in her chair. The best bit. The thing that makes putting up with the craftmaster all worthwhile. "Thank you..." she mutters to the server that approaches her, quickly swiping the largest slice she can find of the dessert. Yum.

Merra ponders pointing out that he's in the same wing as them, but a glances at his expression deters her. "Thank you," she murmurs, sitting in the offered chair. "I'm sure Michel or Damia'll be happy to give you some of the main course later. Besides, dessert is the best part of any meal," she adds lightly. An arch of her brow, and she thinks a moment. "I'm not sure about the dancing. It'd be fun, though." She glances again at Ilare, feeling oddly awkward.

Lady Rashlyn is left with no one but her wine and, as she hiccups, she ellicits her husband's attention. "Rashlyn, dearest," He rebukes. If she could just pay attention to what she was doing, she wouldn't have to worry about being drunk every other party. "Oh dear, excuse me," He notes to those around, but it appeares that we should be away." With that, he stands, helps the Lady to her feet, and begins to guide her on her way, taking the time to thank Michel and Damia as well as Areiah and M'rin for the lovely party. And then, snagging a rider, they're off, to be conveyed back to Igen.

Darting in and among the guests, Seraphine slips into the kitchen, resurfacing with platters of delicate deserts, the succulant sweets causing her to straighten proudly in an appyish fashion. Oh yes, Bakers are wonderful. Praise.

And just as he's taken a big bite out of a creamy bit of dessert, too. Somehow, K'sair manages not to choke, giving Ilare a very dark look. Chewing rapidly, he swallows and takes a breath. "Don't you start. Tatia and Vespurath bother us enough about that.. I don't need you to be, too." Blue-green eyed brownrider lifts his gaze, noting the looks shot his littler clutch sister's way, and confusion touches his expression. Staring IS rude, you know..

Tekin watches the servers bringing in dessert rather jealously, wishing he could have a taste of the cakes and ices, then remebers his duties and slinks back into the shadows to watch out for trouble.

Leandra shyly smiles at Pyrene and sits down in the seat indicated. She mumbles a "Thank you," as she gets some of the desert. Does it really matter if she skipped the main meal? She feels slightly awkward sitting amongst all these unfamiliar faces. Oh well, gotta get over her shyness sometime...just not quite yet.

Damia inclines her head as Lady Rashlyn and Lord Tronidus make their exit. "Our duties t' ye 'old!" She calls after them and returns to her mingling, a faint smile upon her features. Quite obviously, she's pleased with herself, the fact that she managed to procure enough ice for those ices, and the fact that almost no one has found a reason to leave -- the foods so good, you see. Ha.

G'deon takes a long, slow sip from his wine glass as the desserts are offered. He takes a long look and finally picks one of the more salty treats. "Never been a big one on sweets," he comments, a rather boyish grin creasing his face for a moment. "Except for bubblies of course... but that's fruit right?" He takes a bite of the dessert and grins, just sitting back, his arm casually draped over the back of Merra's chair.

Michel smiles gratefully to the Igen Lord and Lady, overlooking the latter's intoxication. "It was our pleasure. I'm so glad you enjoyed it." he murmurs politely in reply, bowing slightly as they make their way out.

Seraphine offers a winning smile to those served, picking her way through the various tables and hurrying people. Lips pressed thin as she begins to patter back to the kitchens, wondering if there might be some left over. A happy prospect.

Lilah moves her way slowly in. The apprentice mingled about glancing at the servers with desserts. Already being able to taste the lucious cakes; in which Lilah moved on into the crowd before settling herself down. Obviously she hadn't been about the Weyr since before the last snow for a visit. Casually wrapping her digits around a mug before filling it up with some neutral klah for now.

Pyrene looks after Rashlyn with relief and winks at Leandra. "Made it in time for the best part?" she queries. Her eyes briefly drift over the room to G'deon and she grimaces at some unheard comment, before landing on K'sair, Via and Ilare and making a few unheard comments of her own. Finally she shakes her head and returns to her present companions: "The worst of dragons is that they're only interested in commenting on the gossip concerning /you/."

"Ah, well I wouldn't know /that/." Tuya says, raising her glass and drinking from it with a half smile. "Try living with mostly apprentices though. If you're not under risk of having your office splattered with paint used generally in near nil-light conditions, it's their gossip."

Ilare ignores the annoyance in K'sair's voice, eyes rolling in amused exasperation as she sips her wine. "Is she now? You know it's only a matter of time before Sasha know.. and then you'll have Branwyth badgering you.." Legs stretch out a little under the table as the brownrider rearranges her skirts more comfortably, "And then.. well.. what's to stop Chanticoth and I mentioning it in passing to..." Eyes sweep the room, noting Pyrene's brief gaze before Ilare winks at the gold rider and turns back to Raveth's rider, "Oh.. Cadgwith?"

Merra, of course, casually leans back against his arm, smiling up at him in return. She does, however, savor the rich chocolate dessert she's making her way through. "I, on the other hand, have a horrible weakness for anything chocolate and sweet. And this cake is both!" She winks at his observation. "Of course. Fruit. So they're perfectly healthy, right?" she teases.

Pyrene chuckles at Tuya and nods. "I used to be a nanny here. Got all the gossip from the brats, I imagine apprentices are the same." Ilare get's a blink. "What about Cadge?"

"Naturally," G'deon replies, laughing softly. His own dessert is quickly consumed so he just sits back once more, one arm across Merra's shoulders and the other resting on the table, his wine glass rolling idly through his fingers. "Did I miss much?"

Leandra giggles and takes a bite out of the desert, savoring its taste. Becoming a little more brave she says to Pyrene, "Are you a dragonrider?" Lea takes another small, yet satisfying, bite out of her cake.

Bekka peers out from the kitchens, tray in hand. Her dark curls have fallen across her face during the stressful meal, though maybe she'll emerge again. But only if people are nice. And only if they drink her wine! Said drudge, in that case, steps out, tray balanced carefully on her hand, weaving her way between the chairs. "Wine for you, m'lady? For you, sir? Here, let me just top that up for you, there.. don't drink and fly!" The young girl makes idle conversation as she visits, eyes roving for that familiar face..

"You wouldn't!" Alarm fills K'sair's voice, and Pyrene's query is given a look of panic. "Nothing, nothing... Really.." Han runs through unruly tresses, almost embarrassed, before he mimes a blow at the laughing rider next to him. "You shuddup, you.." But he's smiling, almost as he threatens to thump her.

Daeyn silently wishes she hadn't eaten quite so much, but the desserts are tempting nonetheless. At the very least, her manner is quite delicate, her appreciation for the dessert course interrupted three times: once to flash a smile to a passing cook or two, another time to be properly polite and answer a fired question.

A heavy hand lands on Tuya's shoulder, and she flinches, dessert halfway to her mouth. "Tuya, my dear woman," Tuya rolls her eyes and tries not to glower as Kaspar starts talking to her. "I think that..." He sways on his feet a moment. "That..." Tuya huffs and gets to her feet. "I think that you are done here." she says, rather brisky. She smiles down at Pyrene. "So sorry, but I think I'll have to get one of the riders to help me get him back to Crom." she says apologetically, a mournful expression cast towards her half-finished dessert. "Thank you very much for your hospitality, weyrwoman." she says with a genuine smile. Not something you see often from her. So sue her, she appreciates the young woman talking to her like she's a normal person. And the food. Let's not forget the food. With that, Tuya does her best to manhandle the craftmaster out of the caverns.

Pyrene pauses for silent rapture over the cake, before nodding blissfully to Leandra. "I am. Pyrene, Cadgwith's rider. And you are?" K'sair is given quick looks but she's distracted by her own table. "Oh, good to meet you, Tuya! Do come again!"

Seraphine manages to secure herself some of the citrus ice, about to dig in herself in a prospective nook just outside the kitchen when a very irritated looking cook catches the appy and sends her swiftly on her way, to give up that last platter to one of the guests. Foiled again.

Leandra smiles, "I'm Leandra, currently a resident at Seacliffs. It's nice to meet you. I've always had great respect for dragonriders." She eats another piece of her cake before adding, "I want to be a dragonrider myself, but I have to wait for the next Search."

Merra is just relaxed enough by the wine she's had to lean over and rest against the bronzerider. "Bronzes may be sexist, Daeyn, but their riders make up for it," she calls teasingly to her sorely-neglected friend, grinning. "Oh, nothing much. D'renn plying Lady Igen with win, but that's about it. Hey, while I'm thinking about it, want to find somewhere quiet tonight and just watch the stars?" It's not a propostion, for all it leans towards sounding like one.

Michel sighs softly as everyone seems to have a dessert before them and there are still some left in the kitchen. He smiles slightly to himself in pleasure that everything has come off without a hitch.....so far. One never knows, does one?

Ilare just grins, not saying another word. Or perhaps she is - her eyes seem to unfocus a little as a steady stream of comments begins in the back of her mind, earning her a few looks from other folks seated near as she giggles at things unheard. Or, rather, things they've not heard. Finally, Ilare turns back to K'Sair, grinning. "Of COURSE we wouldn't tell Cadgwith or her rider you've a crush on Hyzen." Ooops.. did she say that out loud? Methinks this lil' brownrider has a reason to flee now...

Bekka seems quite perturbed that nobody's taking her wine until she spots a familiar figure. Him! The bustling drudge hurriedly works her way through the tables, ignoring all the sudden pleas for wine, and slides into the miraculously empty seat beside him. "Why hello..." she croons smoothly, unloading her entire tray of glasses in front of him. "Care for some wine? Have some wine, plenty of wine, I'm Bekka, 'Reaches resident, single and looking" she babbles, flashing a winning smile. Swoon.

Pyrene catches Michel's eye and gives him a grin, before repeating the process with Damia. A job well done, indeed. "Seacliffs? That's in Ista, isn't it? And good luck with Search. There always seems to be one weyr or another Searching even this late in the pass. I hear one of the Fort queens just clutched."

Pyrene's look isn't missed, even if Damia's busy flirting with a tall Fortian rider who managed to make it over here. A wingleader nonetheless. The two are talking over near the hearths, leaning against the wall, closer than most people would think would be comfortable. Py gets a little fingerwiggle that causes the rider to bristle and, standing on tiptoe, even for her, 'Mia whispers something in his ear that manages to soothe him somewhat. Then he flicks his fingers and she glides back into the room, sidling up behind Michel, "Good job, 'Chel. An' cleanin' c'n be left fer th' drudges t'night. Th' 'prenties c'n 'ave a break, yeah?" Baker apprentices learn to /appreciate/ good, hard work.

Bekka's catch gives her an odd look. Eh? But wine is good, wine is good. The Bronzer snatches a glass and takes a sip before turning to her adoring face with an uncomfortable grimace. "Uh.. been.. living here.. long?" he manages, under her piercing gaze. Now, for him to work in the fact that he has a weyrmate..

Michel catches Pyrene's grin and flushes, red beginning to stain his cheeks as that small smile turns into a satisfied grin. He stands a bit straighter knowing that the Weyrfolk at least enjoyed the event. "It sure can be...it was a very good job and everyone did very well." he murmurs as his cohort stops at his side. "I think we all deserve a bit of a break after this."

"'Laaaarre.." A note of dispair fills K'sair's voice as head is lowered into his hands, shaking in disbelief. How coul she /do/ this? Nonono.. And she's not even /sorry/.. What if Hyzen heres? And and.. "'Lare, how could you?" A pout forms on the brown rider's lips, looking very out of place. Not suited to such facial contortions, our K'sair.

Pyrene did overhear Ilare's comment from a while back, but she's choosing to /pretend/ that she didn't, because that will lull K'sair into a false sense of security. Giving /Pyrene/ chance to speak to Hyzen, perhaps?

Beam. "Def'nately." A pointed glance is sent the Fortian's direction, and then Daeyn's, as well. Seeing as they've been working their little /butts/ off..."Yah -- th' 'prenties d', 's well. 'm a thinkin' we can be takin' t'morrow mornin' off, yah? L'ftovers sh'ld be good 'nuff an' 'm gonna 'afta sleep f'ever." Forever, now? With that and a wink and a quick peck on the man's cheek, the more boisterous of the High Reaches kitchen duo slinks off to rejoin her Fortian.

Seraphine casualy turns attentitive ears to various conversations, catching snippits here and there of interest. Smiling evasively at a bundeled group of holder folk as she slips them some more desert, turning round and pitter-pattering up the various aisles, offering seconds on desert and taking away plates and drained glasses. Her eyes flit casualy over the more interesting and important folk, before getting back to the work set before her.

Bekka's ears prick.. No, couldn't be.. A call from the kitchen? But.. but everyone's finished and.. and.. Aww. A twiddle of the drudge's fingers and she disappears into the crowd with a sly wink, banished to the realm of the kitchen to wash dishes for the next eternity.

G'deon finishes off his glass of wine before nodding quickly to Merra. "I'd like that," he replies, eyes twinkling softly. "Nylanth seems to think it'll be a good night for it too... but then, he always says that." He reaches over to refill his glass, then gestures to Merra. "Would you like some?"

Leandra nods and says, "Thank you. I hope I'll be picked on a Search. It's kinda dull over at Seacliffs right now, but there are always children to take care of," she pauses to finish off what little cake she has left now, "I've always wondered what it would be like to have a dragon. I can only imagine that it's the most wonderful thing on all Pern." Lea giggles and briefly glances around the room.

"I wouldn't know," Daeyn says rather primly, half-smile quirking the corners of her lips. "But I'll take your word for it." She glances over her shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at Damia's farewell to fellow Weyrcook, then shrugs and rather theatrically blows Michel a kiss. No, she hasn't had too much wine ... she hasn't had any. "A job wonderfully done," she calls, just loud enough to heard by the retreating Damia, but meant for both.

Lull or no, Ilare's not even slightly sorry. Her dragon made her do it! Honest! "Now now, 'Sair, you really shouldn't scrunch your face up like that - what WOULD Hyzen say if she saw you?" A groan from the brown rider causes her to chuckle. "Here, boyo, have some wine. IIt'll cheer you up." Let alcohol be the poison of others, Ilare's discovered something far better.

Merra winces as she remembers something, and glances towards the kitchen. "Shells, I forgot. I promised Michel a while back that I'd help with clean-up." Leaning over to hug him briefly, she stands reluctantly. "Hey, I'll see you later... And you, brownrider Daeyn, are incorrigible." With a last wave for both G'deon and Daeyn, she scurries towards the kitchens.

Pyrene nods softly. "Well, there /is/ more to life than your dragon, but you won't find a rider alive who doesn't place importance on their dragon above their own welfare." She waves as people start withdrawing for the evening, but her expression is a frown. No entertainment laid on for afterwards?

Michel chuckles softly at Damia's retreating back, flushing even more now that she's actually kissed him. How in the world will he ever explain that to Daeyn? He smiles ruefully as he catches his mate's eyes on him and lifts his hand slightly before wandering in that direction. "Thank you....I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll be finished shortly." he murmurs as he leans down to whisper in the brownrider's ear.

Seraphine glances round, once assured her services are uneeded, scampers into the kitchen to cause a ruckus there.

As she reaches her rider once again, Daeyn gets a blown kiss as well. "'twas fer ye, Weyrsecond!" The woman calls and then turns to the Fortian, speaking with him, even if she occasionally glances over his shoulder at the working Seraphine. She's never seen her before -- which isn't much of a feat, considering the fact that the caverns were /packed/ with people she had never seen before, but this girl -- she doesn't appear to be particularly important. In fact, she isn't even wearing a knot if any sort. Who is she?

Grumble... K'sair takes the offered glass, downs it, then plants it back beside a discarded plate. "Well, my dear, don't think i won't get my own back..." And he will.. Oh yes. Ilare's expression may be one of amused disbelief, but K'sair cares not as he pats her shoulder and makes his way out of the caverns, waving and nodding good day.. afternoon? or is it evening? to all.

Damp and waterstained youngsters emerge one last time from the kitchens to gather empty plates, glasses, mugs and dirty flatware onto trays and rush them back for washing. The servers make one more round of the caverns, topping off glasses and leaving an opened bottle of wine upon each occupied table so that the lingerers can serve themselves. That done they begin gathering all the scraps and dirty dishes, heading to the kitchens as well.

Daeyn blinks at Damia in owlish surprise, then lapses into a small smile. She tilts her head up to sneak a kiss onto Michel's cheek. "Told you everything would be just perfect," she murmurs back in a faintly scolding tone. "I'll hold you to that ... no slipping on anything, you hear?" He's supposed to come out of this in one piece.

Leandra smiles and frowns slightly as she seems to have come just a little too late to the feast and missed much of the conversations. Lea decides to just wait a little while longer and see if anything else has been prepared, maybe something like dancing as she's heard that that often accompanies big feasts, not that she would have someone to dance with. It's just the thought of watching others and maybe getting asked to dance. Oh well, maybe another time. She turns her attention back to Pyrene and asks, "So how long have you been a dragonrider?"

G'deon blinks a little as Merra takes off. Shoulders hunch just a tad in an odd kind of shrug before he reaches over and starts stacking the dessert plates. Some people just can't sit back and relax sometimes. Finally however, he runs out of plates and is forced to sit back, his half-filled wine glass held idly between his hands.

Ilare pouts now, doing a far better job of it than her clutchbrother, before waving away the offer of more wine. She's had more than enough, thank you. Daaaarn.. Now she's no one left to chat to. And she's not about to ignore those present to converse with Chanticoth. That's just too rude. So. Smoothing off her skirt again, Ilare offers the organisers of the meal a bright smile. "That was a lovely dinner." What, you were expecting something far more eloquent?

Pyrene brings herself back from watching K'sair leave critically. "Me? Almost five turns now... Seems longer..." Leandra had better watch it else she'll get a lecture on the wonders of Cadgwith. "Damia!" she calls across. "What's happening next?" She's letting manners slide... she's impatient.

Michel sighs softly as he notes Pyrene's frown and shrugs apologetically. "As you see....I couldn't get anyone from the Harper's to come give us some entertainment. I'm afraid this is about all I'm good at, Pyrene." he says, loud enough for the goldrider to hear. He nods to Ilare, smiling his thanks. "I'm glad you enjoyed it." And he's off to oversee the kitchens once more, hoping that everyone will be able to entertain themselves now.

Leandra sighs lightly and smiles. "Well, I should be going. It was nice meeting you Pyrene," she says, getting up, "I hope to see you again someday." She gets up from the table and prepares to leave. Should've gotten here earlier. Oh well, she'll be quicker next time. She waves to Pyrene as she heads toward the exit to leave, hoping no one thinks her rude if she leaves so soon.

"She knows, you know.." Ilare calls softly to Pyrene, amusement lighting her eyes again as she notes the goldrider's gaze drift back from the door that K'sair had so recently vanished through. "He just doesn't know." All horribly amusing. To Ilare, anyway. A sympathetic look is given Michel at the news of no harpers, but a slight shrug is given. Typical - hapers (in her eyes, at least,) are useless. Unless its to do with music for dancing. Only then they're forgiven. But thats her bias for the evening.

Pyrene waves off Leandra. "Come back anytime. Reaches duties to Seacliffs!" she calls, as she leaves her table herself and settles next to Ilare instead. "She does? I'm not surprised really. And what about /you/ then?"

Damia looks up from her flirtation as Seraphine had left, and Pyrene's given a bright grin. A finger is held up to the Fortian rider before 'Mia calls back, "You were going to entertain us, Pyrene!" Damia doesn't have many manners ot begin with, so it's rather easy for her to let them slide. The Fortian turns and the tall man is obviously rather tan, for being a rider at Fort. He has brown eyes and shaggy brown hair with a lithe rider's build -- but isn't all that bad looking, all in all.

Waving to all who are left and giving a nod to Pyrene, Leandra glances once more around the Living Caverns and heads home.

Ugh... a FORT RIDER? Ilare's about as fond of Fort weyr as she is Fort Hold. And I'm sure we all know how she feels about that place by now... Attention turns to Pyrene, shifting her chair so as to face the goldrider a little more. "She does, yup. He doesn't know she does, but.." Eyes twinkle. There'd be no fun in telling him Hyzen knows. A blink follows the question for her, and she shrugs, leaning back in her chair a little. "How do you mean, what about me?" Head tilts to the side, one arm slowly slung over the back of her chair.

Lis returns (really) to the party after taking care of some domestic issues. Namely, Donis and Cerise. Schmoozing with various wingmates and friends, she angles towards Pyrene whom she spots in the crowd. No greetings yet - just general mingling.

Pyrene leans on the table, studying Ilare with amusement. "Well, who was Gid a smokescreen for?" she asks sweetly, eyes scandalous. Lis goes un-noticed for now, but Pyrene's fidgeting as if the mere presence of the greenrider has raised the hormone level in the room.

Michel re-emerges from the kitchens and moves purposefully to his mate's side. "Are you ready, love? I'm finished for tonight and I think I need some quiet and some rest." he murmurs, holding his hand out to her. "And you look lovely in that dress." As if he didn't notice this at the beginning of the feast, it's the first time he's had a chance to comment on it.

"I'm.. sorry?" Ilare's eyes widen in surprise at the question, before a tinkle of laughter escapes her lips. "I don't know what you've been told, Pyrene, but there's no one else. Yet." Ah, the light stress on that last word says it all really. A smug tug at the corner of her lips draws her smile into a grin. "Why do you ask?" Eye lashes flutter innocently.

Daeyn rises with ginger grace, clasping the cook's hand in her own. A smile, almost coy, flickers across her lips. "Thank you, love," she replies simply. "It went better than I'd imagined it." A brief nod of greeting to Lis. "Quiet and rest it is ... if that's what you want ..." There is a double-meaning embedded somewhere in that statement.

Ilare's just going to have to deal with the Fortian -- for now. Actually, not for long, for an officious little blue firelizard pops into the air above Damia's head just as a curious little green, a wanabe royal brown, a fastidious blue, and a shy little brown do the same. Each chiter at her, finding purchase upon her or around her. "Oh!" Again, she excuses herself from the brownrider, slipping easily to Michel's side, "And here's my little contribution..." With that, she leaves, moving through the thick crowds toward the cavern entrances where a troupe is now entering. Baker converses with the rider who conveyed them and a moment later, a ringing *BUGLE* can be heard outside, most likely from the rider's bronze, "Lords and Ladies!" The baker addresses, standing where she is -- her tall height easily making up for the impropmtu adress, "Might I present, the High Reaches Hold Harpers!" Without further ado, the troupe moves forward toward the dais where the Weyrleaders' table has been cleared, setting up their instruments. With that, 'Mia pecks the bronzer on the cheek and returns to Michel's side, "I made a little trip down to the Hold...they had nothing to do -- thought I'd pay a commision and have a bit of music for afterwards."

Pyrene shrugs back, just as innocent. "Merely trying to keep abreast of the gossip, dear Ilare," she lilts. Her head turns to survey the room and to try and catch G'deon's eye, before espying Lis--and harpers. "Dancing??" she cries, fairly leaping to her feet.

Lis applauds merrily for the Harpers, managing to get close enough to Pyrene and thus G'deon, and call out a greeting to both. "Py! Gid! If you're dancing, you've got to find me a partner." D'renn's either quietly drunk in the corner, in the privy, or unconcious. Most likely, he's feeling his age and taking a break, but that's no fun to speculate on.

....Dancing? Oh fardles. Ilare's expression of mild, yet amused disbelief at Pyrene's excuse dissolves inro dismay. Dancing? And her with no partner. Just as well, perhaps - Chan wants her back in their weyr to show off her new leathers some time soon.. But.. Lis' arrival at the party has finally been noticed, and Brownrider smiles and nods in greeting. But she doesn't get up. She'll be content to watch, for now.

Drudges now arrive to clear away the tables, cued by some runner or apprentice or somesuch. Damia set it all up rather nicely, actually, for the long trestle tables make a lovely dancing square as well as a place to eat for those who still wish to do so or spectator's seats. The Fortian is dragged toward the dancing square as the troupe begins to set up their instruments to start with a lively tune, judging by their sparkling faces. Damia isn't about to let herself sit around and watch /others/ dance..

Michel chuckles softly at Damia's announcement and nods toward Pyrene. "Harpers upon request. Enjoy yourselves, but I'm for quiet and rest, I think." he says, clasping Daeyn's hand lightly and heading for the bowl.

Pyrene winks at Lis. "I'll partner you? Or just dance on your own... Faranth knows I've done that often enough..." And as the music sparks up, she sends a glance at Gid. "Are you dancing or am I going to have to risk my toes with that club footed seacrafter up from Tillek?" A rather callous description, although the man /is/ heavier on his feet than would be safe in a dance and he's bearing down on Pyrene.

Daeyn knows for a fact that if she tried to dance in this dress, she'd end up flat on her face. She squeezes Michel's hand tightly for a moment and follows him, with a wave for the rest of the cavern. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

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