Poor Life Choices Continued? [Turn late 15)

[rdan]

Time Reference: After the Syndicate, early in the attacks on Feytolian's family.

---

Considering his history with taverns one would imagine the last place R'dan would be found when attempting to start his life over in a new Weyr would be a tavern in the hold bound to said Weyr. A wiser man would have learned his lesson by now. R'dan, however, while not stupid was also not wise and furthermore felt he was in no stage in his life to become so. Wisdom was for the aged. Experience was for the young. For how did the aged become wise but through experience.

In any case, one perhaps should not judge him too harshly, for he was not very deep in his cups and for a stranger in a strange place old habits are the easiest to slip into. And so it was the bronze rider sat at a side table alone, not far enough away to be segregated from the other occupants, but not close enough to be party to any conversation.

Over the rim of his half drunk pint his dark eyes lazily watched the goings-on of the tavern, vaguely observing the behind of one of the bar maids more out of habit than any particular interest. Truth be told he was lonely. Aside from his brief interaction earlier with the Weyrwoman and the Master Weaponsmith, he hadn't really met anyone. And although the latter had indeed given him a brief tour of the Weyr as promised, other business called her away sooner than expected, leaving him to his own devices. She had casually mentioned that she sometimes frequented this tavern after a day's work in her Hall, which was located here at the Hold, and he supposed he had come here half hoping to find someone he knew.

Truth be told, R'dan was very lonely. It was not something he was used to, and certainly was not something he liked. At present he didn't even have his bonded to chat with. The hefty bronze had settled onto his new ledge for a nice nap. Back at home he had always been surrounded by companions. Whether they had ever been true friends or not did not really cross the bronze rider's mind. They had been constant company and that was what he liked and craved.

Sighing, he rubbed the side of his face, idly registering that he was probably due for a shave soon. Leaning back, he crossed his arms over his broad chest, listening in on the various conversations happening around him, waiting for a chance to interject somewhere.

[cevara]

It was true that Cevara was known to frequent the tavern on an occasion or thirty. It was, after all, very close to her Hall and few things were better than taking half a 'mark or so to wind down after a hard days' work with a pint. Those who frequented the tavern would have noticed the Wesponsmaster had been here a bit more often as of late. What with all the problems with the Lord Holder, Cev had been instructed to keep a closer watch on the situation and gather what information she could. Considering the tavern was often full of drunken gossips, she figured she was unlikely to find a much better place to pick up news about the Hold and Feytolian. Well...no better place that was still inconspicuous anyway. Then it was just a matter of sifting rumors from fact.

The brown rider made casual friends easily, particularly of the less than reputable kind. One of the most notable such friendships being with the former Shadow Syndicate member Dog. She had a air about her that made many people willing to divulge information. Perhaps simply because she was the only person patient enough to sit with ready ears for just about anything. Her own sketchy past made it easy for her to relate with the rough-and-tumble type that often visited this tavern. She fit in here well.

Striding leisurely into the tavern, Cevara's slender but well calloused fingertips rested casually on the top of her sabre. Faranth knows she'd been involved in more than one squabble here, and she was always on her guard. Honey-brown eyes scanned the room, both intent and nonchalant at once. No one special here yet except....

I can hardly believe my luck. The barkeep nodded a greeting to her, which Cev returned with a smile, approaching the counter. "Hey Ned, how's everything tonight? The usual, please." What luck? The brown's eager voice rang in her mind, excited to turn of any new potential gossip. You remember our new bronze rider of course, from earlier this afternoon? Well I just so happened upon him down in the tavern. Quite alone and unoccupied.

"Oh, thank you." She paid the barkeep and took her room temperature pint of ale from him gratefully. Are you going to ask him questions now!? Patience my love! I have to be delicate, you know. But, yes, I am going to try to get something out of him. I can't let an opportunity like this slip by. Oh good! I'll tell Dysmeth if you learn anything interesting. Unable to suppress a smirk, she murmured out loud, "Oh I have no doubt of that."

Weaving her way through a maze of tables and chairs, Cev approached the bronze rider's table. She had gained from their earlier encounter that he found her attractive...even a blind wherry would have made that one out...and she intended to use this to her advantage. Slinking up to the table, she cocked one hip up against it and half leaned, half sat on the tabletop. "Hello again, mind if I take a seat?"

[rdan]

While she had certainly not gone to great lengths to make an entrance, for those such as R'dan who were just idley sitting it had been impossible to miss the Weaponmaster. It was busy, but no so crowded or rowdy that anyone opening the door could do so unnoticed. The bronze rider followed her closely, trying very hard to keep the hopeful expression off his face, and had arched a brow of interest noticing how her fingers had swept over the top of her weapon. Apparently there were some things about this place he wasn't aware of. He had maybe seen two knives in the whole place that weren't for cutting bread or meat, and he couldn't help but wonder at the woman's seemingly unnecessary vigilance. Maybe she was always like that.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, R'dan seemed to suddenly become very interested in his pint when she scanned his direction. No matter how much he actually felt in need of company he didn't want to look like it. He watched the bubbles rise up from the bottom of his brew with greater frequency as he tapped his fingers against the sides of the vessel, and didn't look up again until he was certain her gaze was off of him.

Evidently the brown rider hadn't been kidding when she tipped that she liked to spend time down here. It was very evident the barkeep knew her and it seemed several of the patrons recognized her as a regular as well. He wondered with all the troubles he'd heard in passing about the Hold how common it was for 'riders to come down here at all. From what he could tell Cevara and himself were the only Weyrfolk present, but at the same time he hadn't noticed any open hostility. Lost in that line of thought, he hadn't realized his mindless focus of attention rested directly on the brown rider's bottom until she turned back around and looked at him.

Entirely out of character, R'dan felt heat rise to his face. What was wrong with him? Clearly he needed to get a couple more ales in his system and just relax. All this worrying had him off his game. Taking a deep breath in through his nose, he relaxed his shoulders and afforded the approaching woman a wave before she reached the table.

"Hello." More out of habit than anything else, his hazel eyes quickly appraised her figure from the hips up as she leaned against his table. Yes, definitely as good as he remembered from earlier....though not particularly unusual...'riders in general were athletic people. Still, this woman was certainly more sculpted than her peers. He suspected her trade to be behind that. Smiling crookedly up at her, he motioned to the empty chair on his right. "By all means, I think I can manage the room for you."

[Kiletri]

Kiletri mostly kept to herself these days. She spent most of her time at Crashing Seas wandering around avoiding the inhabitants at Crashing Seas, and when she was really bored she came to Kajano for drinks. The great thing was that she didn't really have to construct an alter-ego she already had what she needed to blend in as one of the rest, or as much blending in as she allowed herself to do. She had held onto her Starcrafter Journeyman rank knots, and this evening she had affixed those and only those into a prominent place on her jacket. Her satchel held a bunch of junk that had to do with equations and star alignments, studying star positions in the sky and that sort of thing. Kiletri had heightened the amount of waves in her hair by use of a hot iron that she kept well hidden. She'd rather die than admit she had any feminine inklings or that her hair didn't naturally come in soft, sexy curls. Of course, her natural wave was usually sufficient, but sometimes she liked just a little bit extra. Besides it was the little things that separated you and made you unrecognizable from anyone that might get curious about your past and/or past connections.

Even her clothing matched the part, mostly. Care-worn but serviceable fitted leggings, soft moccasins that she had tromped all over the place in, and a jacket with her knots affixed to it with a share of travel dust. They were all different gradations of their natural brown color, only her shirt was a dark navy and artfully ripped in a diagonal starting from her midriff down to her hip. She'd torn it to bandage a wound one time, and decided she liked it better afterwards. Besides whether she was lonely or whatever if she came to get a drink she liked to have company of some sort or another. Kiletri only hoped that it wasn't slim pickings, and when she went in a brief appraisal of the room she noted the dragonriders in the corner, pretending not see them for the moment.

Her hips swayed back and forth as she made directly for the bar.

"A sparkling wine for a parched crafter lass?" Kiletri winked at the barkeep, surveying the patrons out of the corners of her eyes, casing it for any troublemakers. Jaraith wasn't so far away that she couldn't make a quick getaway if needed, but she preferred to have a fun and fancy free sort of evening.

[cevara]

As Cevara's back was presently facing the door, she didn't take particular notice to the woman who had entered, though later she would be plagued by the thought she had seen this woman someplace before. Cev wasn't normally one to forget a face, but with all the faces she encountered occasionally one would slip to the back of her mind. For the moment, however, her focus, like that of a hunting falcon, was completely fixed on R'dan.

A genuine smile reached the her honey eyes when the bronze rider motioned to the seat across from him, and compliantly she slid in one fluid motion from her perch on the table into the well worn wooden chair. "Here's to lucky meetings." Raising her brimming pint slightly toward R'dan she winked and took a long swig.

Settling the pint back on the table with a sharp thump, Cevara dabbed her mouth with the back of her sleeve. That first drink invariably left foam on her upper lip. "So," She leaned casually on the table, forearms parellel to the surface, fingers laced together. "What do you think of the Weyr so far? I trust you were able to locate everything all right?"

[Vanech]

This had been a horrible sevenday. First he’d nearly been killed when someone assaulted him, it was only sheer luck that Vanesk was awake during the late hours of that day otherwise the Beastcrafter would’ve surely met his end. Then, his prized runners were let loose from their stalls, leaving them to roam the area wild for hours as he and others searched for them. He held immense gratitude to F’rendil for his help in that matter. The brown rider had proven invaluable in finding the final mare. Despite the efforts of dragonrider and Holdfolk alike, Vanech lost two of his runners – both young stallions who were meant for studding out to Rivers Crossing when they came of age. It put him in a foul mood, fouler still as the tension between him and his elder brother came to a head. They’d nearly gotten into blows. All in all, not a good sevenday.

The events left his shakey and ill at ease. He intended to file a report with the Guardians. The two though seeming unrelated were too close together and too convienantly directed at him to be anything else but someone targeting him. This did not bode well. He had his suspicions but kept them to himself for now. Could these events be some how related to the fact I've voiced my discontent with the tithes to the Weyr being withheld?

Vanech found himself paying an unexpected and rare visit to the tavern. Anyone who frequented the tavern or lived in Kajano Hold easily recognized the Lord Holder’s second son. He came in with his shoulder knots as was customary, but had on the rough clothes of his Craft. He’d cleaned up before coming but otherwise the wear on his clothes showed he’d been in the stables or somewhere equally as dirty earlier this day. Without saying anything he walked in and sat at the bar, not realizing he took the stool next to Kiletri.

[rdan]

((Whoo people! ))

Arching an eyebrow at the impromptu toast, R'dan chuckled and mirrored Cevara, taking out over half his pint in one long swallow. I wonder just how lucky... Although he was certainly glad of the company, the brown rider seemed almost too pleased to see him. His vanity argued that any woman certainly should be that happy, but he was playing it cautious now. He had no idea what kind of motives she could possibly have, but he was fairly confident there were many other people Cevara would rather be spending her evening with than a new transfer rider. He doubted anyone was really that friendly...especially since he hadn't particularly given her a reason to be.

"I like the Weyr very much so far...the lake in particular is very nice. Voraidith has always enjoyed swimming, I think he plans to make a day of it tomorrow." If I am not busy sleeping. R'dan's dark eyes sparkled at his lifemate's dour response. The bronze always did like to seem too self important for casual activities, but his bonded knew better. He'd be sleeping indeed, but it would be in the sun shoulder deep in water, weather permitting. "Everything else was quite self explanatory enough. I think I gave myself a sufficient tour. Clearly I found the most important location." He getured to the room around them with a guarded smile, testing out the brown rider's sense of humor.

It was at that point he noticed the other woman who walked in the tavern. Scanning her from her pretty dark curls to her swaying hips, R'dan determined immediately he was interested....but then he was interested in most everyone female with a lick of looks to them so that really wasn't saying much. Voraidith had made him promise to take it easy on the women for a bit while he was settling in, but that didn't mean he couldn't look, right?

"Mmm...another 'rider. Anyone you know?" If she followed his gaze it would lead Cevara right to Kiletri. As focused as he was on the lovely lady...well one of the lovely ladies...he hadn't really paid much attention when Vanech came in.

((there's a method to the madness ))

[Kiletri]

The barkeep was a nice chap and got her drink straight away, she'd have to remember to slip him a little extra for his promptness. Besides, it was never a good idea to mess with anyone handling your food and drink. Had she been as paranoid as some people she knew then she wouldn't have dared take anything from any kind of stranger; however, nobody was after her blood, as far as she knew,and the place was more than reputable. Vintners were reputable craft people, they gave everyone the freedom of instant relaxation. Harpers were a bunch of nosy busy-bodies and healers were just plain mean people who liked poking at you with needlethorn; it was clearly no contest in her mind.

She took little notice of Cevara and R'dan except to note that they were from Great Cliffs and riders. Not wearing her proper dragonriding knots and keeping Jaraith out of sight meant that she could do as she pleased within reason of course. As long as she kept her nose clean and had her proper crafting materials about her then they couldn't do anything about her being there. She was sure they'd be too interested in one another to pay her heed, unless the handsome one liked extra company. People got some wine in them and things happened after all.

What was far more interesting and immediate was the holder who sat down next to her. He obviously was wrapped up in something as he didn't so much as glance her way, and reading his shoulders knots told her most everything she needed to know at a glance. The expression on his face told her one thing that his knots could not though.

"Hey a drink for my friend, looks like he needs it, something stiff." Kiletri thumbed in Vanech's direction, sparing him a friendly smile. Maybe if she unwound him a bit he'd be pleasant company unless there was a more interesting conquest to be had.

Perhaps you're the one who needs to truly learn to relax.[/color]
Weren't you taking a nap?
Why sleep when I can pester you?[/color]

[cevara]

"Ah yes, the weyrlake....a favorite spot for all. You have to watch yourself down there. People have this happy delusion that they can stop by the lake after a hard day's work for a little rest and relaxation in solitude." Chuckling she shook her head. "Unfortunately everyone seems to have the same idea on a nice day. Took me almost a Turn to figure out, but if you want some outdoor alone time the forest it the place for it, not the lake."

Honey eyes scanned the bronze rider intently as she spoke, interested in any and all reactions he may have at her words. Was he looking to be social or a loner? She hoped it was the former. Great Cliffs had a long history of loners being trouble, as is the case in many places. "However if you and...." Voraidith "Voraidith are looking for some oiling company that will almost certainly turn into a splash duel with at least one other pair of weyrmates then the lake is the place to be."

The brown rider laughed appreciatively at R'dan's comment about the Tavern being the most important local place. In some ways he certainly wasn't far off. Nahoran stood as one of the few places left where Kajano holders and weyrfolk could interact on friendly terms...neutral territory if you will where politics were left outside the door. Well...they nearly always were.

Realizing R'dan had apparently seen something very interesting behind her, Cevara swiveled in her chair, following the other rider's gaze. "The starcrafter there?" Locking in on Kiletri, she once again jogged her memory for where she knew the woman from. This was going to bother her all night. There was something about the way she moved more than her actual features that tried to jar the Guardian second's mind to recall. I know this woman...but from where...? "No I don't think I do. Anyway...what makes you think she's a 'rider? She's got crafter knots." Cevara patted her own bundle of shoulder knots that included those of a Master smith and wingsecond, "not rider knots."

However it was the individual sitting next to Kiletri that now had her interest very heightened indeed. As Cevara easily fit into the category of someone who frequented the tavern, she readily recognized the Lord Holder's son by sight, and should his attention pass her way, Vanech would certainly recognize the weaponsmith as well. She turned in her seat back to R'dan so it wouldn't be as obvious she was talking about him.

"What's far more interesting is who's sitting next to her. That's Vanech, Feytolian's second son." Realizing as a transfer R'dan may not know the name off hand, she hastened to an explanation. "Feytolian is the Lord Holder of Kajano...he's been giving the Weyr a lot of problems with tithing as of late." Although her voice was casual, Cevara's intently perceptive gaze narrowed sharply on the bronze rider. "I'm sure you've heard something about all that."

It's going to be an interesting evening indeed.

[Vanech]

Vanech looked up at the woman who offered to buy him a drink. He too took in her trousers, instead of skirts. However, he had enough experience with Crafters to know that female Crafters, especially those in the dirtier Crafts, like Beastcrafter, often wore trousers. That being the case, he did not judge who she was right away. She had no knots, so for all he knew she could be the only child of a hard-working Holdfolk who needed help with his crops and animals, coming to take her ease after a hard day’s work.

He inclined his head toward Kiletri. "Much obliged." Glancing toward her glass, he turned toward Ned. "I'll have what she's having, barkeep." It occurred to him that the woman might not know who he was, and things being what they were these days he'd rather not advertise. So he was careful not to use Ned's name and also avoiding ordering his usual drink. Of course the barkeep knew him, Vanech was a frequent visitor and it was quite possible he'd run into Cevara a few times - they had common interests after all and a mutual friend.

Ned apparently got the hint. He nodded and went to fetch another sparkling wine for Vanech.