Performance Hall -*- Harper Hall (#9368RJ)
A huge vaulted room expands before an ornate wooden stage. Strings of thin neon red lights line two walkways down the stadium steps on either side of the center section of seats.
High-backed chairs form semi-circle arcs before the stage in several consecutive rows: totally wooden at the top, progressing to cushioned seats at middle, to very comfortable recliner type chairs towards the bottom, all done in dark mahogany finished skybroom and Harper blue velvet fabric.
Intricate slate-gray marble work outlines the stage as if it's a frame. Curving and winding vines give way to images of harps and theatre masks along the bottom, vaulting up to protruding titans that seem to hold the stage up on either side, to a Celtic inspired braid across the top, ending in an endless knot in the center.
Heavy Harper blue curtains, edged in silver cording, are drawn back to reveal the stage, made of finely varnished wood slats that seem to shine like a mirror. They give the illusion that there are two sets of performers on stage.
-*- Access Harper Hall information via +hachelp -*-
X'an nods toward Tellus, smiling faintly at the minecrafter, gaze returning to the doorway of the halls afterwards. "Where /are/ they?" muttered, he shuffles in his chair, resting the recording device on the table set up infront of them, to free himself for chair organizing. Two of them, directly behind him. Looking to the table, he informs in a somewhat matter of fact tone. "Ladies and lords, dragonfolk.. I have a pair of metallic weyrlings sitting in on this conclave as a form of lesson. They will not make a sound… but I'm sure all would agree such diplomatic situations are valuable training…" - Oh yes, rather than throwing people straight in at the deep end, without a lifeboat.
Niva enters the conclave, gaze narrowing slightly as she spots Lisle before taking a deep breath and moving to take her seat, paperwork tossed on the table infront of her as she nods to those, not caring to offer an excuse if she happens to be late.
"If only we had all had such training," says Hassaleah with a faint chuckle from her seat, starting to arrange her papers after a moment's rest. "I've no objection to them sitting in, if no one else does." She glances around at the rest with eyebrows lifted.
Kathryn continues to sulk in her seat, shuffling papers and just about any other action that can keep her from having to interact with her neighbors. Occasionally she glances towards the door, but doesn't seem to find what she's looking for.
The representative from Healer hall finally arrives, and he hurries toward a table. Kristhalis spots his sister and instead of going to his usual seat takes the empty one beside Lisle and leans in to whisper to her before taking out his usual notebad and pen and prepares to take notes.
Make a sound? No. Make faces? Yes. Svandis arrives, trail-dusty and grimacing as she strips gloves and jacket off. The former are tucked into a pocket of the latter before the entire mess is thrown over one arm while she navigates the arrangment of chairs towards X'an. The weyrling's expression shows a distinct lack of gratitude for the honour being bestowed upon them. Still, she thinks to salute upon arriving at her brother's side.
Lisle just waves her hand dismissively and shakes her head at Kris's comments and turns her attention to conclave. She notes Niva's gaze and just inclines her head in the woman's direction. Perhaps too tired to care about giving tit for tat.
I'roc enters soon after Svandis, delayed as he struggles just outside the door. Before they close, the acoustics of the room catch a muttered string of curses and Roc can be seen scuffing the bottom of a boot against the railing outside. The doors open again, the bronzeling attempts composure, and he stalks with barely controlled steam to take up the spot next to his fellow weyrling. The salute, though an afterthought, is still crisp and the man tries to smooth his features.
Tellus glances towards the weyrlings and offers them a smile, "None from me, X'an." Niva's arrival is greeted with a cordial wave. "Greetings Weyrwoman Niva."
X'an smiles a rather sly kind of smile toward Hassaleah, nodding his head to her. "Quite." - looking around the other faces and seeing no apparant protest, he inclines his head politely to the dignitries of Pern, a nod for each individual area leader, then looks to the two weyrlings, leaning in to murmur something very quietly to the pair of them.
Finally, as the time grows late, Kathryn seems to accept her position as the only one here. Her bad mood settles down and she starts to look around her. "Shouldn't we be starting soon? It's getting pretty late."
Svandis is doing her utmost to pretend that I'roc, sizeable lad though he is, is not filling the space immediately to her left. Her jacket is draped neatly over the back of one of the chairs set aside by Fort's weyrleader and then she adopts a parade rest stance while listening to his murmured words. She gives a very delicate sniff, eyes finally cutting towards the other weyrling. "Of course, Weyrleader," she returns softly. Another sniff. As if she were testing the air.
Niva smiles to Tellus, "G'day, Miner.." And the glare it seems was not totally directed at Lisle, as the Istan gets a residual smile. And then she's eying the Fortian weyrlings rather carefully, shaking her head for a long moment, looking to Kathryn. "You're welcome to get it started, if you're in a rush." She offers, making no move to volunteer herself. Not again.
Elara slips in quietly, briskly rubbing her hands on her skirt as she hastens to her seat beside X'an, giving the weyrleader a smile. Then she looks back to grin at Svandis and I'roc. She wiggles her fingers in a wave of greeting.
X'an's eyes flicker around to Kathryn, head tilted upward to the tune of the soft words from his gold weyrling, nodding just reflexively. His smile arrives for Elara's entrance, pulling back the chair for her, he leans forward and pushes his recording device a little further into the center of the table, to catch all the words clearly. "Then I shall open the spring conclave of 2667, at your estimable discretions. No doubt everyone wishes this to go smoothly and swiftly, so without further order, I call for a round of introductions for the records, to immediately progress to old business."
Elara smiles, "Elara, Senior Weyrwoman of Fort Weyr," she introduces.
Well it seems like their will be no catfights ,yet, between the Istan and Xanadu Weyrwomen. Lisle leans back in her chair with her clipboard starting out the notes for this conclave occasionally leaning forward to take little sips from her waterglass. As introductions are called she leans forward, "Lisle, Weyrwoman of Ista. S'va sends his apologies, the Healers still do not wish him any strenous flying." Boy was that a fight and a half.
Kristhalis rises from his seat a moment later, "Kristhalis, Assistant to MasterHealer Chiron." He introduces as he looks about the table and sits down again.
Kathryn stands to quickly get this over with. Someone's in a rush. "Kathryn, junior weyrwoman of Western weyr. Jolie was..indisposed." Her face draws into a frown at this but she doesn't go on to explain more.
Niva makes no move to stand, merely piping up at the appropriate pause, "Niva, Senior Weyrwoman of Xanadu Weyr."
I'roc shifts a little at what X'an mutters, but nods and schools his expression to an appropriate level of attention. Svandis receives the barest of glances before Elara's presence serves as a good distraction. "Weyrwoman," he manages to murmur just before the Conclave is called to order and the round of introductions begin. Here, now, he watches his fellow weyrling's movements out of the corner of an eye—she's nobly bred, she ought to know how these things progress.
Hassaleah looks up from her notes and nods, standing only halfway. "Hassaleah, High Reaches Senior Weyrwoman," she says, quickly sitting again and rifling through the papers in search of something.
Tellus hides a yawn behind her hand, "Umm-oh. Sorry." She gets to her feet, "Journeyman Tellus, representative of the Mine craft." Then down she goes, back in to her chair.
Svandis inclines her head to Elara in a respectful gesture, to respond to the finger-wiggle. Then she sinks into the chair provided for her and does a reasonably good impression of spectating schoolgirl for I'roc's benefit, complete with vacant smile and hands folded primly in her lap. Introductions? She lets them slide around her, choosing instead to listen, eyes cutting towards each person as they name themselves.
"And I am X'an, Fort's weyrleader." X'an introduces himself last, straightening his shoulders back, sitting up straight for who know's who's benefit. "Welcome one and all. Now, the matter of old business…" - looking around from face to face, most everyone knows how to alert the matter of old business by now. "In the absence of a harper… Does anyone have any?"
Gefen enters, perhaps late, perhaps not? His player has no clue. But he purposely moves towards Weyrwoman Kathryn and standing behind her, arms behind his back where they hold a notebook. He listens, taking note of teh whos-who.
Alisar clears his throat, "Pardon… but there is a Harper among you." He smiles winningly. "But do go ahead… don't let me, interrupt." His eyes shine with humor, because he just did.
I'roc goes through several different positions as he tries to find an appropriately professional looking sitting posture. Folding arms over his chest, at last, with feet square to the chair seems to be the one for Roc. Svandis' cool neglect of introducing herself, and X'an's own quick admission gives Roc the opportunity to relax back into the scenery. …and it gives him a moment to quietly realize that whatever trouble he'd had with whatever had been on the heel of his boot? Is not all gone; the mildly odorous boot is lifted with quiet care for a most discreet inspection.
Niva glances at X'an at the call for old business, a hand going up to indicate she has something to offer.
Elara's brows knit just slightly as she tries to remember if Fort has any old business. She doesn't believe so…things have been rather quiet since the explosion of the old stables. Thankfully.
That would be Svandis' cue to give another delicate sniff. Care is taken to avoid looking at I'roc, but a definite frost settles into the air around the two weyrlings, projected in the thinning of her lips and the eyes that are boring into the back of X'an's head.
Kathryn waves her hand negatively to indication Western has nothing to add at this point. Her focus goes around the table, checking to see who else might have old business for this meeting.
"Well, didn't you just materialize out of the eaves…" X'an murmurs sidelong up at Alisar, without actually taking his eyes off the table, gaze following Gefen to the chair beside Kathryn. His hand in the meantime, seeks Elara's. We'll just ignore this somewhat disturbing odour arising from the fortian contingent. Thank Faranth for training… /what/ bad smell? "The chair aknowledges Weyrwoman Niva."
Lisle sits forward as old business is called for, preparing to get attention before Niva raises her own hand and then she settles back into the seat. There is a curious gaze shifted in Niva's direction, perhaps finally she will get the answers she has asked for.
Niva actually stands up this time, glancing for a long moment at Lisle before her gaze shifts around those gathered. "As I reported last time, Xanadu Weyr was having crop problems. The earthquakes have been shaking us a bit, but there have been more studies done. Grubs from a variety of fields have been shifted around with a variety of plants. Different combinations have yielded different results - Some plants with grubs were fine, others not well. Some of those without grubs exhibited problems, while the majority did not. We are continuing to investigate, and all bans on people and goods remain in place." And with that she settles back down in her chair, closing the subject, at least in her mind.
Elara nods and gives Niva an encouraging smile.
X'an's head remains faintly tipped up, discrete murmurings from nearby being at least aknowledged with a flick of his finger in singular indication. With a glance to Elara, he fishes a hankie out of his pocket, holding it up in I'roc's peripheral vision and bouncing it a little bit. Hopefully the bronzeling will get the hint. "Thankyou, Weyrwoman Niva. The chair aknowledges Weyrwoman Lisle." - Tellus gets what can only be an attempt at stifling a smile. That phone of hers has a wonderful habit of going off in Conclaves…
I'roc is, at this point, quite distracted by his personal problem. Mostly, by trying as hard as he can to not make said problem a public one. A nervous glance is spared to the backs of his leaders' heads, quickly it flicks to Svandis. No help there, certaintly. The boot is therefore firmly pressed to the ground in hopes it will stymie the smell. Once again, Roc attempts to pay attention, a look of resignation on his dark face. It is, after all, a gathering of Pern's leadership. It is, after all, a sharding /Conclave/. But oh—his Weyrleader comes to the rescue! Masking movement by scooting his chair up with one hand, just a fraction, he reaches for the hankie in one deft grab with the other hand.
Elara's brows knit again and she looks over at X'an. She mutters to X'an, "… smell?"
Lisle looks up as her name is called out and nods, rising from her seat. She looks over to Niva and inclines her head, "Thank you for the report. If there is anything Ista can offer, please do not hesitate to ask." She looks about the table once more, "With the continuing problems of grubs, I am sorry to say that Ista still can not take biological exports from Xanadu. During this time we have remained blight free and I wish to keep it that way." She rests her fingertips on the table, "The weyrwoman of Xanadu and I have spoken, and there is concern that a third party may also be responsible for setting us at odds in more than just the crop arena. I would ask all weyrs to keep vigilant to prevent any further attacks such as that was visited upon Weyrleader S'va." With those soft spoken words she settles back into her seat lifting her glass from the table as she does so.
Kathryn shifts her attention from one Weyrwoman to another, this one a personal friend of sorts. Lisle is listened to with polite interest though no expression shows on her face ot the vailed suggestion of a conspiracy.
Elara nods gravely at Weyrwoman Lisle's words, studying the woman with more than a passing interest as she sits back down at the table. She offers a smile.
Svandis passes a hand over her face, disguising it as a gesture to brush a bit of dust from her brow. In reality, she's hiding a sigh and the closing of her eyes to keep from rolling them. With her reaction to stench and embarassment now firmly hidden, she's able to look up again and turn her attention to Lisle. All that shows in her expression is polite curiosity, a mask for the very soft, very curt words that are spoken out of the corner of her mouth at I'roc.
X'an leans closer to Elara, indicating over his right shoulder toward I'roc as being the explanation for her murmur. His gaze remains intent on Lisle however, nodding slowly at the information given. After giving it dutiful pause for thought, he gives a slight sigh, rubbing at the join of his elbow on the left for no apparant reason, saying: "The chair recognizes Craftsecond Alisar."
Alisar inclines his head respectfully towards each speaker as they take their turn. He offers no clues to his own thoughts but it's clear he's actively listening. When his turn comes he clears his throat, "I'll be brief as I have much business in my Hall to attend to. As was announced last time, I believe, the Harper Hall has undergone a change in Craftmaster. All inquires regarding craft matters may be addressed to Masterharper Moyrel or myself, as Craftsecond." "The Harper Hall is going about the very old business of obtaining new business… by that I mean, recruiting." He smiles, "… and some other newly dreamt projects which I'll talk about when we arrive at the new business." He finds a seat, having arrived late, and in so doing relinquishes the floor.
Damage control is no easy task, in the end. I'roc's trying to find a smooth segue into applying that napkin to the bottom of his boot when Svandis starts her hissing. Fixing loose laces as a premise affords him the opportunity to conceal both his hurried wiping and a hotly whispered shot back at the fellow weyrling. The intensity of the smell strengthens as the force Roc uses breaks through whatever crust had formed. It does finally and quickly begin to abate.
Tellus grins at X'an then scoots herself up slowly in to a more proper sitting position. :looks thoughtfull as she tries to recall any old business. Nope, none. She shrugs and remains quiet.
X'an ignores. Ignores, ignores, ignores that aroma. It is not there, Fort doesn't smell dodgy at all. No. Such a thing would be a bad pun indeed, considering Lisle's recent words. "Thankyou Craftsecond Alisar. From Fort's perspective, our investigations of the explosion and gas leaks of our weyr was concluded with no further danger to our populace. Many thanks go to the minecraft, and wherhandler Tellus for her derrick use, investigations and drill reports. Also, as is obvious, our clutch hatched nine strong, giving a gold, two bronzes, a brown, two blues and three greens to Fort's weyrling barracks." he supplies that helpfully, squeezing Elara's hand. "If there is no more old business, the chair opens the floor to new business."
Elara smiles, squeezing X'an's hand back. She's so lucky to have a Weyrleader that is good at politics and…talking and stuff.
Kathryn gives the Fortian Weyrleader a smile of gratulations for their good fortune and at the same time indicates with a slight wave that Western has some new business.
"High Reaches also has new business," comments Hassaleah, nodding to X'an. "Along a similar vein… with fewer gas leaks."
Lisle nods toward Elara and gives a brief smile at the news of new weyrlings upon their grounds. She gives a wave when new business is asked for before leaning back to her seat. Her brother again leans into to whisper something and she nods slightly and turns to him, whispered words in reply, eyes kept upon the business of conclave. Kris finally nods, seemingly satisfied before turning his own attention back to conclave.
Svandis, a muscle jumping in her jaw to indicate she would very much like to respond to I'roc, settles back in her chair instead and looks straight ahead. She's trying to look like a gold weyrling worthy of congratulations.
Tellus glows at the mention of her name. Her hand also goes up in a moment's wave to file for new business as well.
Alisar has new business. He indicates this with a discreet nod.
Niva lifts a hand, as do many others, indicating she has new business to offer.
I'roc's initial trouble has evolved into another altogether; what to do with the napkin, now that the mess has been removed from the boot. It's crumpled quicklyand unwiselyinto his hand as X'an directs attention to Fort Weyr's contingent, and makes a mention of the weyrlings. Roc tries for his best smile, it doesn't quite reach his eyes which seem frazzled and worried. Thankfully, attention then turns back to Conclave affairs and the man can continue to learn absolutely nothing in the face of his dire circumstance.
Well, that makes almost everyone present as having new business. X'an looks around at the bevvy of indicating hands and discrete gestures, looking briefly to his weyrwoman, then out. "In which case, order of business: Western, High Reaches, Ista, Minecraft, Harpercraft, Xanadu and Fort. Please, you have the floor Kathryn."
Kathryn stands with a bit of creaking from those old bones. It takes her a moment and she smiles as she does. With one hand she motions to the young man at her side. "As you can see, Western has a visitor today. I would like to introduce Gefen, currently of Western weyr. He would like to address the Conclave regarding a venture which Western fully supports, the opening of a new hold. Gefen?"
Gefen stands as his name is proffered. "Thank you, Weyrwoman Kathryn." he inclines his head respectfully to her then gives the congregation a winning smile from his befreckled face. "In my travels among the many islands of Western, my crew and I came upon an excellent source of natural gas. I should like to take advantage of this new fuel system, of course, but the idea of mass travel of supplies and miners might, of course, seem absured for what seems a near inexhaustable supply. I propose, in this case, a hold to be set up for the miners and traders involved in hopes of a perminent settlement. I shall, of course, desire lordship over this hold, to be able to best recruit and run the mining near by."
Elara glances at X'an before she listens to Gefen with utmost attention.
X'an arches his eyebrows at this, perhaps aknowledging the glance from Elara, he looks around the other faces nearby, back to Gefen and Kathryn. "Harper Alisar…" he begins, looking to the craftsecond. "…I don't believe dragonfolk can vote upon such a proposal can they? Weyr cannot interfere with hold business, would you care to take this matter to hand?"
The High Reaches Weyrwoman purses her lips and shakes her head. "I think we ought to have a vote. Allow every island camp major Hold status and we won't have room in here for all the new Lords and Ladies!" Hassaleah taps a finger on the table. "Can't he operate under the auspices of another Hold until such time as this endeavor proves profitable?"
Niva rests her chin in her hand as she watches Gefen, gaze drifting towards Hassaleah, before back to Gefen. "Xanadu Weyr supports the holdship, for all that it means. We are more then happy to aid as we can, without stepping on the jurisdiction of others."
Alisar stands briefly, offering a solution. "It would seem to me that this new resource is important and should be pursued. I would think it can be pursued as a new dwelling, that is, a Hold, with the agreement of the various Lords Holder… or under the direction of the Minecraft, with the agreement of the Crafts. I propose that the Crafts and Holds meet jointly to determine if it should be a new Hold — or operate for a time under the Minecraft and then discuss options from there. I don't think the Weyrs need to bother themselves with this matter."
Tellus's eye lids nearly droop until the mention of resources. She snaps her eyes open and listens. Leaning forward she takes on a thoughtful gaze. "If its natural gas, perhaps it can fall under the oversight of the mining craft. Until.. Like the High Reaches Weyrwoman said, proves profitable." She nods in agreement with Alisar.
Elara nods to Alisar. It really doesn't concern the weyrs, except the one that the hold would be beholden to. She relaxes back in her chair, watching the others speak with interest.
This compromise seems enough to assuage Hassaleah, who nods. "Fair enough," she says in response. "Just so long as we are not treating Lordships as though they were as easy to come by as trees in Lemos. Enough of that lot as it is, compared to us," she says with a faint smile towards the assembled Lords and Ladies.
X'an turns about a little, to check on I'roc and Svandis. Poor bronzeling, it's about then the filthy hankie scrunched in a hand gets noticed, and X'an scrunches his eyes shut, in a manner much the same as Svandis has previously done. We'll just ignore this. Yes. "Agreed. If western has no further new business for this time, as the details of this can be handled privately, the chair recognizes Weyrwoman Hassaleah."
Kathryn raises an eyebrow at the comments from Hassaleah, but a lazy smile is all the comment she makes on the matter, indicating with a wave that she is done. As the Conclave moves on, Kathryn whispers an aside to Gefen, adding a wink when her attention moves on to the next bit of business.
Gefen listens attentively, his face looking amiable, yet unreadable. That sort of natural smile, you know? He waits, as if passing judgement upon each comment. At last he nods to X'an upon dismissal and sits once more. His blue eyes linger upon the miner who he might might himself known to at some point. He inclines his head listening to Kathryn and nods, giving her a genuine smile.
Svandis has once again adopted the facade of flawless weyrling. Hands folded, eyes ahead, expression somewhere between empty and mildly interested. If her gaze lingers overlong upon those speaking, surely she can be forgiven. It takes effort and focus to ignore someone as thoroughly as she is ignoring I'roc. Still…now and again she can't help but sniff.
I'roc is now stuffing that mangled and messy napkin into a pocket—the faintest of stench still occasionally wafts from about his person, but the man has the decency to keep his movements to a minimum. What exactly might transpire inside that pocket now, or for that matter what may remain on the bronzeling's hands, is a matter for later attention. Arms are folded together once more, he shoves his hands underneath his forearms and tightens the grip. Maybe he's phsyically trying to hold on the barest shred of what dignity is left.
Hassaleah pushes out her chair and stands, consulting her notes one more time. "High Reaches is pleased to announce, first of all, that our debt obligations are current as of the present month. I don't believe we're through the woods yet, as they say back home, but we're getting there. We are also pleased to welcome twelve new Weyrlings from Mhiyath's most recent clutch, some thirteen days ago. Despite the predictions of some," and here she darkly eyes the High Reaches Lord some seats away, "they are all healthy, and include in their number one new queen, one bronze, two browns, three blues, and five greens."
A little ways away, a murmur of, "One *deformed* new queen," emerges from the general vicinity of the droopy-eyed Lord Hiako, but not loud enough that anyone could easily attribute it to him.
Lisle occasionally does raise a hand to her lips as if to hold back nausea, a questioning glance occasionally sent in the direction of the fort contingent. Yes the aroma has finally wafted in her general direction. She reaches for her glass of water trying to ignore the aroma as she can. She looks over to Hassaleah as she begins to speak and nods. "Congratulations." She murmurs.
Elara grins at Hassaleah, "Congratulations," she echoes Lisle.
Tellus chimes in, "Yes, congratulation on the weyrlings."
X'an adds his own "Congratulations." to those of others, he politely lifts eyebrows in silent asking if the weyrwoman is done.
The High Reaches Weyrwoman sends a dagger-eyed look towards the High Reaches Lord, but then nods graciously to X'an. "Thank you all. That's the extent of our news at present." Hassaleah sits back down again.
X'an murmurs in a lean toward the bronzeling. He mutters to I'roc, "… you would… as… perhaps… a quick… break, I'm… conclave… clothing would be…"
X'an, distracted but not enout not to nod politely back to Hassaleah, gestures elegantly toward Lisle, for her own business.
Lisle takes another sip of the water before rising, fingertips resting on the edge of the table. "Umniyath has again taken to the skies and has confirmed S'va as Weyrleader of Ista Weyr. By time next conclave does come I hope to have many healthy weyrlings to report. Our last class just graduated entering sixteen new riders within our ranks…" She pauses a moment and looks over her notes, "I believe that is all for now." She nods to the group and settles down into the chair.
"Thankyou, weyrwoman Lisle." X'an is in no way, rushing this along. Nope, just keeping it flowing. Yes, indeed. "Congratulations to you and yours… the chair recognizes Minecrafter and Wherhandler Tellus." - looking to the journeywoman.
Just then, the door to the performance hall sails open, narrowly avoiding a loud collision with the wall behind it thanks only to the quick action of one tanned hand. H'las winces at the narrowly avoided clamor, and then does his best to head down the declining aisle without drawing too much attention to himself. He's struggling to restrain the huffing and puffing which belies his haste in arriving here - better late than never, correct? A trio of folders jostled in his hand, he shucks off his riding jacket and slouches into the empty Igen seat.
Tellus catches a whiff something and cant help but comment, "Shards, did somebody die or something? /That's/ just nasty."
The delightful aroma finally becomes too much for the Istan Weyrwoman, especially as it is delightfully pointed out, and she rises from her seat, a quick word to her brother before she quickly strides from the hall.
Elara glances towards the door, "It's a lovely day outside," she comments idily, "Perhaps we can retire and take advantage of the spring air?" she looks up at X'an.
From Svandis, a descriptive sigh. The look she gives I'roc speaks volumes. Many, many unpleasant volumes.
With a quick whispered comment to Gefen, Kathryn also stands. "If you'll excuse me." The Western junior slips out as well, perhaps her aged system overcome by the smell.
Those poor weyrwomen. The delightful aroma is following them out to that very same hall! Whatever X'an muttered to the man, I'roc is quick to obey it. The currents of wind his haste to exit the hall stirs up are foul indeed, but in his absence they clear out rather quickly. And that absence? It extends… and extends…
Perhaps her past experiences give her some resistance, but Niva's not moving from her seat. That doesn't stop her from making funny looks and looking rather uncomfortable, though, while she waits her turn to speak once more.
Gefen passes his hand over his nose as if scratching it, but once the word's out in the open he bows his head to hide the wide, amused, grin. He glances up, listens to Kathryn and nods, watching her leave.
What's everyone's trouble? He's only just settled, and people are commenting on a scent, and leaving. With confuddled self-conscience, blonde H'las sniffs discreetly in the general direction of his own armpit. No, that's not the trouble at all. Goldenrod brows furrow towards the spot above the bridge of his nose, lips beneath quirking oddly. "It's not me, is it?" He asks, leaning over to his nearest neighbor. A shake of the head puts to rest any worry the Igenite might of had, and so he only shrugs and props an ankle upon his knee.
X'an sighs, stares at the recording device on the table, and can be distinctly heard to mutter. "He put it in his pocket. In his /pocket/… it'll never come out of the leather." - Oh dear. Looking at the remaining faces, he glowers at the departures. "Splendid form on Ista's part. Truly splendid. And westerns. The chair aknowledges the depatures of Ista and Western's representatives, accepting Gefen in western's stead and the arrival of Igen's represetative."
Tellus shudders then gets to her feet, "X'an, I think it would have been better for your weyrlings to speak instead of putting up this big stink" The craft blushes, "Sorry, X'an. Umm. Right." She pauses then says, "Well, first the news of a new found resources is wonderful. I'm sure the crafthall will be doing what ever they can to facilitate the refining of the natural gas." Oh dear. Natural gas. "Let's see, ah, new business. Various regions are out on Search, I would like to schedule some time to speak with candidates about what mine craft has to offer. If any of the weyr currently have eggs on the sands please let me know, I'ld like to work out something."
Kristhalis looks over to X'an sharply, "Sir, I would have you take back your words. It is your charges that did bring in the…aroma which most here have suffered through this conclave." Ok, just a little defensive of his baby sister. His words are not overly loud but are firm.
H'las lifts a hand in a lackadaisical salute that accepts recognition from Fort's Weyrleader, accompanied by a broad grin that threatens to consume the lower part of his face with a moment of dazzling dental whiteness. The grin diminishes at Kristhalis' sharp retort, shrinking his mouth into a pressed configuration of lips that represents surprise. Matched with lofty brows, there's interest; but he only remains in his seat, not piping up as of yet.
Weyrlings? Svandis' brows lift in sharp arches, plain offense at being lumped in with stinky I'roc as a cause of the problem. She clears her throat, a sound that translates to 'I beg your pardon!', and lets her eyes roll slowly towards the ceiling. Truly, an apology would be better but she seems as disinclined to offer one as she had been to offer the other weyrling any assistance.
Elara smiles soothingly at Kristhalis, "Please accept Fort's apologies for the unique aroma. I'll bring potpourri next time." She grins and looks around, "Whose turn is it for new business then?"
Gefen looks at X'an sharply. Was that a flicker of darkness in his features? Perhaps. He doesn't comment, however, as Kristhalis does, choosing to survey all this with the same judgmental and calculating nature.
I'roc finally returns; it looks as if the man and a water faucet got into wrestling match. Which is fitting, for those who know the weyrling. His clothing is splattered with wet spots, some darker and larger than others. His face seems refreshed, even his hair shows evidence of a "washing up". Now, instead of the sour stench of dung, the too-sweet smell of a woman's perfume wafts from his clothing. "It was all I could find," he whispers to his Weyrfolk as he takes his seat once more—completely unaware of the conversations in his absence.
X'an eyes Tellus' at her initial words, brows lofting slightly, to be followed by a regard given to Kristhalis. "The source of aroma departed, Kristhalis, after having issue trying to remove the aroma from the locale. Elara, you have the right of it. I believe we fortians above the rest of conclave, were suffering the worst of it, in /silence/ I might add. To depart conclave in the middle of new business is /HIGHLY/ bad form, I'm sure you'll agree, as it offers insult to every member yet to bring business to the table, that had expressed interest. I spoke the truth, it is bad form, however if blood wills out over business, then I apologize. I will not take back the words however. If Minecraft is done, Harper Alisar has the recognition of the chair." -looking to the man in question.
Alisar rises, nodding to X'an and Tellus, both in thanks and as a fellow Crafter. He looks down at the floor for a moment, gathering his thoughts before he speaks, "Members of the Conclave. I must apologize, if it can be called that, for my Craft." He lets that hang in the air while he takes a breath. "It seems we have slept overlong. Word has reached me that Harpers have been invited to various festivities and not arrived. Word has reached me also that venues have been offered but not taken. Let me assure you, I am a performer, an entertainer at heart. If you require the services of the Hall for an event, please let us know with as much notice as you can manage and we will arrange it if at all possible." "If you require the services of my Hall for mediation, we are likewise available. "… A regrettable lapse in our duty to you, I'm afraid."
Alisar continues, "Also, I am aware of the recent deficiency in the holding of classes for Harpers of rank who wish to advance. Indeed, some that are ready for promotion have been unnecessarily delayed. Let me assure all of the Crafts here… and those riders who are pursuing my Craft in these Threadfree days that lessons will resume and promotions will ensue. He chuckles, "… for better or worse." "In short, dear friends my Hall wakes from it's sleep — and invites all of you to join our ranks and play on!" He sits, flicking at a bit of lint nervously.
Elara turns fully around in her seat to look at I'roc, an even gaze before she presses her lips together. Irritation? Or trying to stop laughter? She turns back to face the table though and focuses her full attention onto Alisar.
Elara smiles and nods at Alisar, proud of their former Weyrharper.
After a few minutes Lisle returns to the hall, quickly making her way back to her seat. Kristhalis is quick to inform her of the activities in her absence and she nods looking over to X'an. "I am sorry.." She mouths to the Fortian Weyrleader, looking rather abologetic. She reaches for her faithful glass of water and leans back in her chair resuming her notetaking. Her nose wrinkles a bit at the new aroma, but it does not seem to bother her quite so much.
Svandis, prim and proper as she is struggling to be, can no longer maintain the facade of ignoring I'roc's very existence. As soon as the big man has seated himself, she twists in her seat and leans towards him, whispering near enough to his ear that the words can't be heard beyond a faint sibilance.
"Thankyou Harper Alisar. The return of Ista's representative is aknowledged for the records." - Gotta say these things for the recording device o'course, something X'an reaches for and quickly checks that the tape is still running. A brief glance is shot toward Gefen, then he looks with a smile upon Niva. "The chair recognizes weyrwoman Niva."
H'las bends in his seat, and tugs a small palmheld device from one pocket of his riding jacket. The small stylus is tugged out, and he pokes with momentary consternation at the screen until cooperation evidently occurs; facial expression neutral again, he pokes some note down directly after Alisar's words. I'roc's return is given but a glance, before the palm computer gains the Wingleader's full attention once more.
Niva could really care less about what's going on with the rest of the conclave - The corner of the paper in front of her is far more interesting, at least in her mind, as she doodles. And then, as she's recognized, she glances around, again standing up. "Xanadu is continuing the investigation into the attempt on Istan Weyrleader S'va's life. Current signs point to a young wanderer, who a few remember seeing around shortly after our troubles began." Pause. "Xanadu Weyr also recognizes the graduation of Branwynth's 8 weyrlings, and 14 eggs on the sands, from Aelith and Calanth. Finally, Saralynn, rider to gold Valirstvith has transferred to Xanadu Weyr, to better continue her dragonhealer training at our facility." And she doesn't have anything else to offer, and so settles back in her chair to doodling.
Leaving again would only make things worse, at this late point. Even so, I'roc's staring at those doors hard—all the better to not shoot daggers at Svandis, no matter how close the woman brings herself into his line of vision. Various comments allude to exactly around what the discussion revolved in his extended leave. For as big of a man and as much of a macho front he shows, Roc's near to bursting into flames he's turned so red from embarrassment. Shame, more than likely. Hunching down, it seems the bronzeling is trying to hide inside of the over-stuffed collar of his jacket. A pensive, apologetic look begins to round its way around the Conclave members.
X'an blinks a couple of times, apparantly the aroma of I'roc just hit him, and he stares over the table toward Niva, slightly zoned out owing to the overwhelming scent of damp weyrling and woman's perfume sitting RIGHT behind him. Well, if they can get through this, they can get through the last of the new business, for certain, no? On the heels of this mild fortian fiasco however, his words may strike as bizarre. "Thankyou weyrwoman Niva. To conclude with fort's new business, we have recently been victim of a tttt'…" *blink* "a t't't't…" deep breath. "A /snake/ infestation, which became rather destructive for a brief time. We might encourage other holds in the fort region to check thier own storage caverns, if the epidemic of crawlers is.. other than localized. Also, we would like to thank Igen and the smiths of Telgar, for the recent influx of plumbing equipment. Speaking of bad smells, we must apologize in advance, for the upcoming reworking of the weyr's inner waterworks and processing plants." The price one pays for dragging a weyr into the turn 2667, is apparantly a possible pandemic of bad smells. They started small with one weyrling, it seems. "We would also like to propose, considering the current political climate of underhanded methods and a more fundamental approach to politics…" looking at Niva and Lisle deliberately at this.. "… that fort region be nominated a neutral territory, with the harper hall providing mediators, and trade being facilitated by the weyr." pause. "What says Conclave?"
Elara shivers at the mention of snakes before she looks to the other conclave members for their thoughts on the proposal.
Niva narrows her gaze slightly at X'an in return for the deliberate look before shrugging. "Xanadu approves." And that's really all she'll say, eager to get out of there. Ugh.
Lisle leans forward as Niva presents the report on the attack. She writes down a few more notes and nods to Niva, "Thank you for the updated report, I wish you continued luck on the investigation." She comments to the woman before looking down to her notes, writing down a few more things before leaning back again in her chair. A hand comes to her forehead as if rubbing away a headache and again her brother leans into to whisper to her, she sighs softly, "After conclave." She murmurs to him. He nods and settles back into seat. She looks up curiously at X'an's words and shakes her head slightly, "What then would happen if Fort ever becomes the source of conflict. I am not sure a weyr should be chosen for neutral ground for such activity. Harper hall is our neutral ground, if trades need happen then can not the independent riders of Pern carry them out, those that hold no alliegience and as such are truely neutral?" She sighs softly and continues to rub at her temples.
Alisar stands, "It is, traditionally the Harpercraft's role to be a mediator, Fort."
X'an's stuttering over the word tunnelsnake merits a look of fond bemusement, interestingly enough. The man's update on forthcoming sewage revampings causes a wrinkle of his nose, but his lateness or a turn in mood prevents him from calling out anything lewd. He is, however, in the middle of opening his mouth right after Xanadu's approval of declaring Fort a neutral territory - but Lisle beats him to speaking, and brings up an intriguing point backed up by Alisar. Lower jaw hinges back up, and he leans back in his chair, witholding speech for the moment.
Tellus sighs then rubs her nose. "Certainly. Got my vote. If the harpers can sort it all out. Two women I look up to and all that.""
X'an's eyes unfocus briefly, hammered at the back of his head by his dragon speaking to him, taking a firmer hold of Elara's hand in the process of being spoken to. But he is still listening to what's said. "Craftsecond Alisar, I proposed Harper halls as mitigators. I mean not to infringe upon that. Considering the current climate, where several regions of pern are not on speaking terms or trade terms, if truly it is conclaves wish to influx all trade through independant routes, so be it. I proposed our region be neutral, and to clarify perhaps, any trade and negotiation made by the halls be funnelled out through fort's wings, being both the closest weyr and traditionally bound to the halls in duty. We will stand by the decision of conclave however."
Alisar presses X'an a bit, "Are you suggesting that Fort Weyr should somehow resolve issues with another Weyr." He nods, "Certainly you would want the Harper Hall involved… rather than have it appear that Fort was trying to lead or influence another Weyr.. because, though the territory may be 'neutral' it seems unlikely that Fort itself, and indeed any Weyr, would remain 'neutral' in Weyr matters.
Elara smiles. Of course Fort is neutral. The only political agenda Elara has is getting everyone on Pern to like tea and eat healthy. "Of course," she says in reply to X'an's final statement.
H'las rubs the bridge of his nose with his finger a moment, upper lip pressed to the tip of his nose, pursed in thought. But a second later, the Igenite drops hand to his lap and tilts his head back a little bit. "Igen Weyr approves!" The blonde belts out right after Alisar finishes speaking, unceremoniously scratching his chest and readjusting his sliding sisal shirt directly after.
Gefen would be disapproving, but he's got no grounds at the moment so it'd be irrelevent to say. Instead he keeps intent interest in the conversation, still betraying nothing except that his mind is working.
In the back an apprentice whispers to another, "Approve what? What are they talking about now? Harper Hall or Fort?" "I don't know," the other one replies, "but I'm getting tired."
"As a weyr currently involved in a conflict as you put it, I have to vote against. Should Ista, faranth forbid, ever come in conflict with Fort Weyr I can not see this plan working. Harper has always been the traditional ground for mediation and it should be up to Harper hall to find such solutions as is needed. If the solution is for Fort riders to deliver..then that is one thing, but to assign Fort riders in all disputes can lead to problems in the future I fear." She leans back in her chair for a moment. "Ista does not agreen, but will abide by the wishes of conclave." Said Lisle.
I'roc is now not so great a distraction to himself, and pays attention to this meatier business of the Conclave. His eyes flick warily from Lisle to X'an and back again, then once more glance over the faces of the other leadership. In the midst of the debate, Roc forgets the mutual cold shoulder between he and his fellow weyrling long enough to touch her elbow and meet her eye with a raised brow.
Svandis, in a rare show of pity for I'roc, again leans in to place her lips near his ear. Letting the whispering commence, though her eyes cut towards X'an and remain there as she quietly speaks.
Alisar stands again, "I have one last thing to say. But I shall wait to be recognized."
Elara lifts a hand, "If I may? Craftsecond Alisar, Fort is traditionally at your disposal and we still are. Should you require our services we are happy to answer that call as we have for centuries past. However, the conclave raises the good point that we may be part of an incident and therefore would not be the best choice as conveyors of mediators. We leave that to your discretion. Other Weyrs at Conclave, know that Fort is open to you still." Be it for poker games or trading. She smiles at Alisar as she quiets.
As Gefen's player has been informed he can speak for Western, Gefen does. He raises a hand.
X'an lifts his hands in mute surrender, easing back into his seat. "We will faciliate no trade then, independant riders may be hired and bypass Fort weyr entirely. We trade still with Xanadu and with Igen, we came to Ista's aid when they called." - he doesn't quite sound defeated, but he does sound slightly annoyed. A nod is sent toward Gefen. "The chair aknowledges Gefen of Western." "….followed by Alisar of Harper halls in conclusion of Conclave…"
Gefen stands and clears his throat at first before, "I feel I might place Western's opinion at caution, in light of Ista's concerns. If something did cause conflict, it would, as Weyrwoman Lisle has stated, put a bind on what otherwise would be a very generous offer from Fort. I imagine much in the way of preparation and organization would be needed by Fort and I find them generous to offer their time… However, I feel I fall with Ista's concerns of the probable and place Western at the point of no accord." He nods and sits.
It is no surprise that the Fort weyrling adopts a defensive posture at the change in his Weyrleader's tone. I'roc shifts behind X'an, his posture straightens and the muscles of his forearms flex a little. What he lacks in decorum, the man more than makes up for in loyalty. Svandis' whispered words only solidify the hardened expression on his face, his eyes study the back of Elara and X'an's heads.
Svandis, in contrast, appears mildly amused. Her eyes bright with a twist of a smile, she finishes the whispers for I'roc's benefit and then straightens in her chair. Spine as straight as the bronzeling's, she none the less manages to project a more relaxed air now. A little yawn is caught behind the shell of her hand.
Alisar stands again, completely unruffled and smiling, "Perhaps I can offer this. In disputes between Weyrs, the Harper Hall will act as mediators and adjudicators as X'an suggested, and as is traditional. The Harper Hall gratefully acknowledges Fort's assistance in offering 'neutral ground' in pursuit of a diplomatic solution or as a trade route. If the disputing parties can agree that Fort is indeed, a neutral site, Harper Hall will use Fort gladly. If the dispute is with Fort itself, or there is some question as to its neutrality in the future… another site will of course be chosen to resolve the dispute." "In that way, Fort, nor any Weyr that offers its services to the Harper Hall for diplomatic pursuits, can be accused of trying to influence those pursuits." He nods to Elara, "Yes, I believe we understand each other." He sits.
"Such assistance and open trade between our weyrs I do appreciate and hope to continue long into the future. My vote is in no way a marking against Fort Weyr, but one for tradition and clear nuetrality should any conflict arrise." Lisle responds and nods to both the leaders of Fort and Alisar before she settles back again, "I am sorry conclave if I have spoken out of turn."
Elara smiles and inclines her head to Alisar.
H'las's harper-blue eyes shift around to note those who did not find Fort's suggestion agreeable, and he ominously pokes at his palm computer with the stylus. In actuality, he's struggling to navigate the menu properly, but to outside viewers his rapid utilization of the tech gadget must surely seem important indeed.
Gefen gives a nod of agreement at Alisar's proposal, commenting softly to himself. "Quite the solution, indeed."
Inclining his head to Alisar, X'an glances around the conclave once, then to Elara beside him. "No offense is taken to fort weyr, I'm sure. As such, the proposal is not passed, Fort region is not neutral territory, and Roc wing will not put itself at the disposal of trade between any hold, weyr or craft following any negotiations made in Harper halls, as it would be at the discression of the disputing parties whereof such harper-mediated negotiations be made. We will neither pick up, nor drop off any dignitry, lest we be asked to."
I'roc goes through a myriad of expressions in this last round of debate. Svandis' coaching soothes his face of stone little, but this shoulders loosen and arms relax to rest against his lap. Whew, this politicking business—a look of doubt washes over Roc's face. Once again, the doors are eyed longingly. With a small sigh, Roc leans over with a quiet murmur directed to Svandis.
The observant might note that Svandis finds it necessary to bite her lower lip, hard enough that marks are left a moment later when she's mastered the impulse to suddenly laugh. She gives a single quelling shake of her head to I'roc, schooling her expression into something better suited to the gravity of the proceedings. He did not just make her almost laugh out loud in public.
H'las is just about to dig up some snacks from his other jacket pocket, when realization strikes him in his seat. Issues! A brief shifty-eyes around the conclave checks for anyone else intending to speak, and the brownrider lifts his hand and seeks eye contact to be recognized.
Elara smooths her skirts and smiles at X'an, an 'are we done?' expression on her face.