Ista Weyr: Workshop

The Smiths have commandeered an entire table in the corner, spread with various parts of flamethrowers for inspection while the larger bits are clustered in a group on the floor nearby. "You've got to get rid of all the parts that have rusted through," Abigail is explaining, quite patiently. "Like this one, see?" She picks up a round metal piece liberally coated with rust. "It can go in the 'not fixable' pile."

Heaven. If Pern had a heaven, this might very well bit it. Rhikiad stands just shy of that table littered with the parts, fingers all but itching to dig in and lose themselves in the metal and such. He chews at his bottom lip, just barely managing to rip his gaze away from the pieces and back over to Abigail. "What if it has a little bit of rust on it?" he asks, inching closer to that tabletop of Nirvana. Metal things. Lots of things.

"Can it not be derusted? When I was backwhen, we did that to a few of these and they seemed salvagable and the flamethrower worked, though I will admit it didn't shoot that far?" is the quiet tenor's reply. Aodien is leaning over the table but he's allowed room for some of the other Ista Weyr folk to crowd around the revered Master. Still this is a lesson and he's not going to waste the opportunity. He grins just a tad incorrigibly at the woman, brown curls falling into his eyes.

"Ody!" Aadi calls as she steps into the workroom with seemingly no work to do. "I /though'/ I heard y'natterin' on in here." She grins amicably then, offering a salute to Abigail and a wink to Rhikiad. "Min' if'n I sit with y'while I sharpen some blades?"

"It depends on how much they're rusted." Abigail answers both Aodien and Rhikiad's question in one go. "If they're rusted through or over completely — well, what do you think?" She smiles a welcome to Aadi, including her in the question. She doesn't discriminate between Smith and nonSmith.

Rhikiad extends a leg to hook a foot around a stool. Dragging it forward, the teen plops upon the seat, flicking his long braid of hair to his back with a turn of his head. Eager fingers reach out to take something. Yeah, something would be the technical term or somesuch. Anywho, happily the teen fiddles with the piece, eyes serious in their efforts to examine every little bit of the metal for the tell-tale rust. "Blades?" The one thing that can drag his attention away from metal pieces would be shiny sharp things.

Aodien's head flips up and he'll offer a slow easy grin back at Aadi and a quick wink, "How you been Aadi?" He'll move over a few inches to allow Rhikiad and his stool better access to the table and its shiny bits before nodding at the Master, "It'll react with ageonthree and not be able to flame as effectively?"

"Well, 'nough. An' you?" Aadi pulls something from her belt and then sits down near Aodien, turning to Rhik while twirling what can now be seen as a rather wicked looking knife in her hand. "Yep, blades." Turning to Abigail, she grins and nods. "Plus wha' flame does come out'll burn clear through th' rusted bits."

Abigail nods. "That, and the metal beneath will be weak. Could break at any time, and what use is a flamethrower during fall if it won't flame? — Yes, exactly, Aadi," she receives the smile of a favored pupil who has gotten it exactly right, "If there's only some rust, there are ways we can remove it. So things with some rust can be put in the 'needs to be fixed' pile." Abigail is standing by a table littered with metal parts, explaining how to sort them into various piles to the gathered Smiths and candidates. "The rest, unless there's something obviously wrong with it, can go in the 'just fine' pile. Any questions?"

Rhikiad's finger picks at a bit of grease upon the metal piece in his hand, dark eyebrows overshadowing his eyes with the seriousness of rubbing it away to see if there is any rust underneath. Nope! It is set aside and in his eagerness to grab for another one, knocks a couple to the floor. Whoops. His eyes flicker up at Aadi though and her knife twirling. "Oh, I can do some of that too." He rather likes the shine of blades and is more impressed by that than any twirling. "No, ma'am," Rhik responds to Abigail after her question.

Carolyna really wasn't expecting a crowd when she walked into the workroom today, but, it would seem a crowd is what she's going to get. "Hello, Ma'am," she offers by way of greeting towards Abigail, before giving a wave to Aodien, and the rest of the candidates. "Seems this is a busy place today? I didn't miss anything too exciting, did I?"

Aodien just shakes his head in the negative at Abigail, a distracted gaze sliding first to Aadi where it lingers a little, and then more curiously at Rhikiad and his exhuberance over the metal pieces. Carolyna's entrance draws his attention with another smile, "Hey Caro," but for now his focus in on learning.

Carolyna's entrance gets Aadi's attention, pulling up a smile and a wave for her other Smith-type friend before turning and shaking her head at the In-Charge Smith. "Y'be wantin' m' help, Abigail?" she asks, preparing to sheathe her knife and buckle to if asked.

Tiago follows the group in, staying a bit back out of the way as he takes a look in to the workroom. The guardsman isn't technically on duty at the moment, but is only curious as he watches and listens to the smith. Then again the workings of a flamethrower aren't a bad thing to pick up these days.

"It's Abby," the Smith corrects, gently, "or Master, if you must. We need all the help we can get. And sooner done, the sooner we can get out of here, huh? I've got the kitchens to make us a special treat for afterwards." Nothing motivates young workers like the promise of sweets. "Aodien, Carolyna," she does pick on the Smiths in the room this time, "could you fetch us some bins from the closet? We'll need at least three." She busies herself looking at the larger pieces on the floor, squatting on the balls of her feet.

Rhikiad slides from the stool with the sound of cloth against leather. He bends down to take up a couple of the fallen pieces, absently climbing back onto the stool afterwards. Noting a movement at his side, he flickers a glance at Aodien and offers up a welcoming grin, "Lots." Apparently meaning the flamethrower pieces. Hopefully. The teen perks at the mention of a special treat from the kitchens. "Those are the best. Special treats."

Carolyna smiles. "Hiya, Aodien, Aads," she offers as she walks closer to the group, intent on finding out what, exactly the conversation is about. Of course, as per Abby's request her feet turn and automatically move to the closet for the bins. "Aye, Rhiki, special treats are rather delightful."

Aodien straightens and nods at Abigail, "Yes Ma'am," before turning towards the closet and then grinning at Carolyna as he inercepts her ther. "I'll get that," his reach is higher and he'll slide one of the bins off the shelf with a wink and hand it to her. Grabbing the next two for himself.

"Fair 'nough, Abby," Aadi corrects herself with a grin. "An' y'know th' quickest way t'a man's heart." Insert Wicked Grin Here. "Smart Smith." She turns then to sit at the worktable, sheathing her knife and peering over a few of the pieces closest to her.

Tiago lurks up behind the candidates, trying to be unobtrusive though it's not entirely successful as he does stand several inches over most. Watching the smiths work isn't something he's seen much of, so curiousity is winning as he nods along with them, looking over shoulders at the piles of parts.

You overhear Aadi murmur, " That assumes … has a heart … get …" to Aodien

Abigail twists to grin, unrepentant, up at Aadi. "So long as it keeps their hands moving, I guess I can take their hearts, as well." She stands, dusting hands on her trousers, and spots Tiago skulking behind the group. "'Lo, you there! Can you tell the difference between rust and good metal?" It isn't hard.

Carolyna scowls at Ao as he grabs the bin, though she takes it with a slight little thank you offered his way, she then takes the item, pivots about on her toes and makes her way back towards where Abby et. all are gathered. "All us smiths are smart, Aadi, you should know that, you know me, after all…" is stated with a little bit of a snicker.

Rhikiad hooks the heel of a boot in a rung on his stool. A frown creases his brow as he comes across some rust upon a piece, finger flaking away pieces. He flips it over to examine the other side, and finds the same flaw. With a chuck, the metal piece is cast carelessly somewhat in the direction of where the junk pieces are to go. Hopefully it'll make it there. His gaze temporarily flicks up to those at the bins before he is right back to the pieces once more. Yeah, so many to look over.

Aodien just continues to smile back at Caro as he follows her, balancing both bins in either hand. He'll glance down at Aadi's knives as he passes by, but goes to stand by Abigail. "Oh I don't know Caro, I've known a few Smiths that weren't that smart, but tended more towards ingenuity in tight spots." A nod will be given to the guard and then he'll lower one of the bins for Rhikiad, "Aim here."

Tiago looks on up at the master Smith, nodding to Abigail even as he straightens up and folds arms over his chest. "Aye, good metal holds a nice edge and rusted breaks when you hits someone over the head with it." Trust him to put it in a perspective that he's familiar with.

Shaking her head at Aodien and his antics, Aadi begins to sort through the pieces in her immediate vicinity, making small piles to then be gathered and dumped en masse into their appropriate containers. "Jus' enough ingenuity t'get 'em out o' tight spots, eh Ody?"

"Necessity," Abigail quotes, as she is so fond of doing, "is the mother of invention. Thanks, Ody. Caro." Tiago's response has her throwing her head back and laughing. "Oh, yes. Just so. Help us sort, won't you — ?" She pauses, waiting for him to fill in his name.

Rhikiad glances up at Aodien, and then eyes the bin as well. "Oh, sorry." He'll look moderately amused though and bob his head as well as the point has come across. "Bin. Got it." But apparently the next piece he comes across is perfectly fine and settled away. A new voice has him blinking and twisting around to blink at the guard, and then cast a wave at Tiago. Well, that'd be a wave with greasy hands and a metal piece in his hand. It'll work though.

Carolyna nods as she sets her bin down. "No problem, Ma'am," indeed, she's fallen back into the use of Ma'am's and Sir's starting candidacy. Once the bin is dropped off she shuffles around the table, somewhere between smiths and candies, is where she decides to stand, still not all to certain what they're doing. "So, we're sorting the good, useable metal from the rusted stuff?" she enquires with an upraised brow.

Tiago steps around so that he's not in the way of busy bodies and other smiths moving bins about, nodding a few here folks here and there, returning waves and whatnot before coming closer to the front by Abigail. "Tiago. I'm a guardsman." he explains with a wry grin. "Not one of the candidates here, but I'll help sort." He takes a better look at the parts and raises a brow, "Bit of a jumbled mess isn't it?"

Aodien raises his eyebrow then follows Carolyna's example and sets down the bins on the table. He'll move out of the way of the guardsman and go to stand next to Aadi, leaning forward to sort some of those pieces closest to her. Two very rusted ones get discarded with a flip into the bin and the sound of metal hitting metal in quick succession, but for the most part he's here to watch and listen.

Noting Aodien's proximity to her, Aadi gives him the barest of glances before looking back to Abby and the others, continuing her work in a more silent manner than usual, but no less efficiently. Some watching closely might see her shiver once at random, but she makes no fuss to draw attention to it.

"Smith, Candidate, Guardsman," Abigail shrugs, "if you're willing to help, I'm willing to have you." She is, indeed, resourceful. "Only a bit. We're sorting it — unfixable, fixable, and just fine already. Ask if you're not certain about something. I'd rather be bugged now than have to go back through it all later. And it's /Abby/, Caro. Haven't you known me long enough?" She teases good naturedly.

Rhikiad turns his attention back towards the table covered in pieces, fingers reaching for the edge of it while he leans forward. Feet hook into the bracing footrest along the bottom of the stool so that his butt lifts up off of the stool. "There is still a lot here." With the teen's position being as it is, that poor little and frail footrest under that stool is not going to take the teen's weight. And so, with a tell-tale crack, the wood breaks, the stool tips and the teen keeps his death-grip upon the table as he falls backwards. Naturally, this means that table and the assortment of metal objects are going to follow right along with the momentum to collapse and scatter about the floor with a rather loud clatter of noise.

Carolyna offers her most innocent smile she can towards Abby. "I don't know if I've known you long enough yet, Ma'am," she states, adding a wink at the end to note her jest before she relocates herself again, at a place in which she can easily grab the chunks of metal. The first several she takes hold of are examined and then placed into the bucket for those that can be repaired, whilst the oddball of that group is dropped in with all the other rusty, old, unfixable ones. But, her work is to no avail, as they fall to the floor. "Rhik! You okay?" she questions, darting to the teens side.

Tiago was about to crouch down by a pile when the clattering of noise errupts, the guardsman in motion in the blink of an eye. He's trained to think on his feet after all, darting forth he skirts the mess of jumbled parts now scattered everywhere and grabs a hold of Rhikiad to help get him back on his feet instead of falling back on those rusty bits of metal. "Whoa! Shells Rhik!"

"Don't give me that look," Abigail accuses Carolyna, laughingly, but the crashing has her turning on her heel before she can offer any further commentary. Luckily, she's well used to crashes and bangs, explosions and upsets, and she takes it all with credible aplomb. "You alright, lad?" First things first, she comes to Rhikiad's side and offers him a hand up.

Marjani enters from the Lower Caverns, possibly with purpose.

Rhikiad just sits on his ass amongst pieces of metal with a table half in his lap and the scattered remains of his stool littered behind him as well. "Oh, shells…" he mutters, wincing a bit at the mess about him. "Sorry." So much assistance from many. After pushing free from the table, he takes any hand available to be helped back to his feet. "Well, my pride is hurting. I'm sorry." His nirvana is now scattered about the floor without rhyme or reason. Yeah, that's a mess too. Just a bit of a flush to his cheeks, looking rather chagrined.

Tiago reaches out along with Abigail to help Rhikiad up, moving parts away from the boy with a sweep of a foot. "Are you alright though?" He figures the place was pretty much a mess before anyway, what's another? "No cuts or anything broken?" His tone may be gruff, but there's the faintest edge to his voice as he examines the younger man with barely concealed concern.

Shaking her head and backing away from the mess made by the collapsing Rhikiad, Aadi bumps into a rider who gives her a wink and a smile before handing off a bit of hide. Reading it, her face goes a little pale and she turns just long enough to shoot Carolyna an apologetic look before she's /gone/. Blink and you'll have missed her.

"Oh, nevermind. You should see the messes we've had at the Smith Hall. Aodien over there smashed one of my glass vases the first sevenday he was there, and Carolyna — didn't you almost light fire to our workroom, your first turn? I'd hardly know I was home if the apprentices weren't making some sort of racket or explosion. Once, when Kiral was an apprentice, he was mixing chemicals and discovered one combination that expanded into a cloud of gas that smelled exactly like rotten tubers.." Abigail chatters merrily away, seeking to draw attention — and embarrassment — away from Rhikiad while she grasps the table to right it.

"Oh, I'm fine," Rhik murmurs to Tiago with a bit of a flush, dusting his hands off along his pants. His eyes draw back down to the mess upon the floor and that look he gives it isn't pleased at all. And oh look… amazing how people disappear when suddenly there is a huge mess about. His attention lifts towards Abigail, and the teen looks rather wry at her words. "Smithing sounds /fun/." Because fires and smashing things and gas are pretty attractive to teen his age. "Does that stuff really all happen?" And they have shiny metal things! But despite the fact that he was on his feet, he is dropping right back down to his knees again to start the pick up process. "Shells, I scattered them near all the way to the door." Impressive.

Marjani apparently has bad timing, nearly being bowled over by someone she cannot see because of the sheer amount of laundry the young woman is carrying. "Careful!" She calls, but it's too late, and so she has to waddle in, a precarious balance of sheets and underthings that smell like they haven't been washed since the last Pass. Finally, this is deposited, and apparently that was all she was asked to do, as Marjani abandons her load, turning while wiping her forehead with the back of one arm—and what a sight to see. Too exhausted not to be curious, she wanders over toward the group. "Master Abigail!" Something quite like a grin crosses her dark features. With one glance over the mess, her eyebrows, as usual, raise. "What's happened?"

Tiago would probably be terrified for Rhikiad's continued health if the redhead actually joined the smithcraft. While he's got good steady hands, he does have a way of being distracted by shiny objects and has the instincts of a ferret. And not a bright one. "As long as no one got hurt." is all he can grunt out, letting go once Rhik's upright and steady. He eyes the mess and shrugs. "Well all the pieces are easier to spot now at least." Just harder to get it all into bins. He sends an amused look towards Abigail though. "Life sounds rather… exciting in the smith hall. I'm betting you drive Lord Sterling's guardsmen insane with all the goings on."

"Every bit," Abigail swears, solemnly, and she's not too proud to drop cross legged to the floor and begin to gather bits of metal towards her, righting the nearest bin and beginning the sorting process all over again. "Smithing, Marjani!" The Master calls cheerfully, "don't you recognize the signs? Bits of metal everywhere, overturned bins, and me on the floor." Her grin only widens at Tiago's words. "I try not to bother his guardsmen. Lord Sterling himself, though.. did you hear about how one of my apprentices almost burned down his tavern?" Funny how she sounds almost proud of that.

Rhikiad's smile quirks at Tiago's words. "You've a point there." And so while seated upon the ground much the same as Abigail, the teen is left to pick through pieces and sort them into bins with rust or none… or broken with the fall. Whoops indeed. Blink. "Really? Almost burned down the /tavern/?" He might have heard that one before, but still sounds very impressive a feat to nearly get accomplished. Smithing is sounding better and better.

Tiago dusts off his hands, for all that he hasn't really gotten to work just yet. "Burned down the tavern? Was there not long ago, I guess they've repaired the damage." He shakes his head, those smiths…good thing they're mostly on the other end of the island. He doesn't like the gleam in Rhikiad's eyes though. "Now don't get any funny ideas. I thought you were determined to become a dragonhealer, or you going to put those lessons to waste?"

"Well it does look familiar, come to think." Marjani surveys the scene, "Though I don't see anything on fire. And there isn't a 12 turner crying about being sent back to Crom." A statement such as this may be delivered with amusement by most people, but Marjani sounds dead serious. She places her hands on her back, a kind of stretch. "Anything I can do?" Now she sounds rather desperate. "I just might go insane if I'm put on another domestic chore." She drops down to help with whatever it is, seeing the action is mostly floor-oriented anyway. "I… hadn't heard that either, Carolyna, and I live there." Not in the bar, obviously.

"Well, she left scorch marks on the floor, at least," Abigail admits her exaggeration with a chuckle. "Those're probably still there, though maybe covered up with sawdust by now. Now, Marji, you /know/ that we didn't really send him back to Crom," but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "Have a seat," she waves expansively at the floor, "and help us sort? I've got to run and check on our desert.. but I'll be back!" She pushes herself off the floor with a muffled 'oomph', a muttered rumble about not being young anymore, and moseys her way on out the door towards the kitchens.

Rhikiad flickers a look back to Tiago, "Of course I do… want to be a dragonhealer." But yeah, there is a bit of a guilty look to his eyes and he'll just busily keep working on picking up metal pieces and sort them and that sort of thing, you know? He looks over towards Marjani, offering her a smile in welcome. "I kind of spilt all of these pieces, that we're supposed to be checking for rust. Only… now they've rust /and/ dirt on them and probably grease as well." Oh, so tragic.

Tiago waves absentmindedly as the smith master leaves, just shaking his head at the mess, but joins in picking up the nearest scattered pieces. "No one ever said this was in the job description." the guardsman grumbles, but the complaint is mostly out of habit as he doesn't appear to be shirking at the task any. He looks over at Marjani and grins. "Get the ones near you by the door? Don't want anyone kicking them out into the hallway by accident." He eyes the girl for a moment. "You were the new one, that other night in Klah Pot." Q'luin seems to pick up a lot of new candidates while drinking. Funny how that is.

Carolyna finishes sorting those metal chunks near her, and between her and the door, when she stands. "Well, thanks for the chaos, all," she gives, waving a hand and ducking out of the workroom, intent on getting out of the insanity.
Carolyna leaves the Workroom, stepping out into the Lower Caverns.

Marjani gathers the pieces closest to her to begin sorting them. To Rhikiad: "Well, just be more careful in the future." All warm and wonderful, this one is. Still, at least she engages in the conversation as she works, exhaling a bit impatiently at Tiago, "Yes, that would be me. Marjani." Nevermind that she was just greeted by name. "You were the one handing out the drinks." The sentence carries with it no small hint of accusation, but Marjani goes quiet, walking while squatting so that she can pick up all the pieces scattered farther away.

Rhikiad looks after Tiago for a moment, wincing slightly at the complaint. "I can get the rest," he insists and flushes again. He reaches for piece after piece, seemingly more serious into the examining and sorting than his fascination from earlier. "I'm sure I've seen you in the barracks…. Marjani. Nice to meet you." His ears would perk if it were possible at the tone of the girl's voice and her words to Tiago.

Tiago manages to only look slightly sheepish as he scratches at the back of his head, tossing a piece of metal into a bin with the other hand. "Ahh, yes. That was me. Frankly I wasn't expecting all those people. It started off as just a little game between my cousin and I." He glances back at Rhikiad. "Dice again, I really should learn to avoid that game." He keeps losing to the girls. At least he got to keep all the extra shirts though, even the very nice one belonging to Lord Marryn. Quite carefully, he avoids the topic of drinks even though Marjani brought it up.

Marjani looks over her shoulder, an awkward little mass of darks and oranges crabbing its way across the room. "Yes, I'm sure you have. Though I haven't caught much of anyone else's name." Satisfied with her hoarde, she properly stands, walks to the others, and sits down to sort out the rusty or broken pieces. "As well should the candidates from now on." She either chuckles or coughs, but with Marjani it's easier to assume sarcasm, "Though at least I didn't accept a drink under false pretenses." Again, she fails to elaborate, mind on the task at hand.

Rhikiad nods his head slowly at Tiago's words, even if his attention is mostly focused upon the parts sorting, "Tiarla mentioned something about that." He hesitates over a larger piece, flipping it over to scratch at a little bit of rust and consider what pile to put it in. He glances from one to the other for a moment, and then looks back to the piece and finally puts it in with the 'maybe's. "Sounds like it was a busy night."

Another piece, easily identified by the the coating of rust is tossed into the reject bin. The sound loud and maybe a tad forceful as Tiago wings it into the container. "I always thought many of the rules imposed on the candidates seemed a bit excessive. Though their reinforcing of them appears a little… extreme." Seems like this class is catching the flack from the previous one. Then in a much lower tone, more muttered to himself than meant to be overheard, he does complain about one thing. "You'd think they could have figured out the taste. /Juice/. Right." Not to mention a rider was there drinking away with them.

"Privately, I agree," muses Marjani, one eye closed to examine a piece up close for hints of rusting. She must see something, because it goes in the bin. "All Pern drinks alcohol, why not just toss out the ones who can't tell their limit and cause a fuss." Says the apprentice-to-candidate, who seems a bit more calm and relaxed than she has since being Searched. "It was a busier night for some than others." Another piece is discarded for rust, though at least it's visible to the naked eye this time. "And it was obvious. I…" she chews her bottom lip, and doesn't finish that thought.

Rhikiad shoots another glance at Tiago after hearing that murmur, and his dark eyebrows lift just a tad. "R'ki is definitely keeping us busy now. Hate all of it," he adds a bit wryly. "But I suppose…" A shrug of his shoulder and then he finally picks up the last of the fallen metal pieces, putting it in the good bin. He glances down at dirtied fingers, then towards the entranceway with a bit of a frown. "I should go find the Smith and tell her we're just about finished here." And she does have food coming too. At least his mess is picked up now. Using Tiago's shoulder to climb to his feet, he gives it a bit of a squeeze before moving for the doorway.

Tiago's eyes follow Rhikiad as the younger man leaves, but he goes back to examining the last few pieces and squaring them away before standing up as well. "Sorry that they're coming down hard on you guys about it. I honestly did not expect the riders to react that way." After all, in most cases the wine is safer to drink than the water. "I take it that things got crazier after I left for the night?" He'll apologize for setting it up, but you'd think that some would have been more grateful for the excuse to get in a few sips in the first place.

Marjani shrugs, going through her pile more slowly if only because she's being a bit anal about it. "It was an overreaction, pure and simple. I'm more mad at that--" she closes her mouth and shakes her head, not quite comfortable with verbally abusing Q'luin. "--that rider for being so lax if others were going to be strict." As though the riders of a Weyr belong to a hivemind. "Anyway, after you left… yes, it got crazier. Not for me, but I suspect some of the others had much more than I did and can't hold it to start with." A snort, and she's done sorting.

Tiago lets the actual smiths go put the bins where they belong, mostly because he has no idea what they want to do with these scraps now. "Well, that's that." At least he does lend a hand to the candidates, rather than make more work for them directly. "Oh well, they'll learn sooner or later I guess. Living in a Weyr was not what I expected and I'm sure some of that is only starting to dawn on some of the candidates." He glances back at Marjani. "How about you? Where were you from before being Searched?" the guard asks curiously.

Marjani stands, patting down her pants as though she cares whether they are dusty from the floor. "Well it's different, that's for sure." The personal question earns a startled blink. "Me? I… well, I mean… I'm from Ista Smith Hall." She stresses the Ista, and one of the posted Smiths--not one she greeted warmly, looks a bit sour but is shushed. Marjani inches away, and is all kinds of curious. "You're not from the Weyr, then? Why'd you, " she stops, looks at the other Smith, "--excuse me, stop giving me that look I /know/ you're from Telgar--" and continues, "come here then?"

Tiago ahs quietly as he reaches for a rag to clean off his hands a bit. "Local then? That's good. Pardon my curiosity. I like to keep track of things like that." Most of the guards do, they get antsy when there are so many new unfamiliar faces around. "I'm not from around here either. I was a caravan escort for quite a while, came from a trader family originally." It's a rather truncated history. "I was looking for a change of pace and ended up at Ista. The place has kinda grown on me." He adds the last with a bit of a wry grin.

"Well the weather is nice," Marjani allows, merely wiping her hands on her leggings like a true lady. She fidgets, not really used to standing around having a chat. Apparently this also loosens her lips, as out comes a whole string of words. "Anyone who complains about the heat should have to spend a summer in Igen. I was lucky to go during the colder months. No, I think Ista is about the nicest place on Pern, myself." She scratches the top of her head, largely out of lack of anything to keep her hands busy as she… talks about the weather.

"Been there. Been almost everywhere. Wintering here is great, better than being snowed in at Telgar or the 'Reaches." Tiago agrees enough, but fidgets slightly as he glances out at the entrance to the workrooms. "Anyways, nice to chat with you, but I think I should go see what's holding up Rhikiad. I swear, that boy has the attention span of a toddler." he says almost mournfully. "See you around." With that, he inclines his head politely then strides out.

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