The World of Pern(tm) is copyright to Anne McCaffrey (c) l967.
The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

This is a log of roleplay on PernMUSH, available online by permission of
Anne McCaffrey, author of the Pern novels, and recorded by A.S. Korra'ti
(piper@murkworks.net), player of Mehlani of Telgar Weyr on PernMUSH.
This log may be distributed freely as long as this header remains intact.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Log Date:
	8/25/98

Log Cast:
	Tiaryn, Mehlani, L'mis

Log Intro:
	Her firelizards have finished their latest round of proddiness,
and accordingly, Mehlani's life has settled down again, with her usual quiet
pursuits of tending Nightsong and Tsornin, tending her firelizards, and
reading in the Records Room, her personal sanctuary. The place does, however,
tend to attract those of quiet temperament...

----------
Your location's current time: 16:54 on day 11, month 2, Turn 24, of the Tenth 
  Pass. It is a winter afternoon.

Records Room(#403RJs$)
Sounds echo off the cool stone walls of the records room, and bounce hollowly 
  off the uncarpeted floor. Though perfectly neat and dust free, this room 
  seems to maintain an aura of unease, though that may be the weight of the 
  ancient records that are contained within, and the heavy decisions that have 
  been formed here. A large, stained wood table with seats stretched along one 
  side stands on a raised area to the north, up a single step from the rest of 
  the room. The east and west walls are covered, ceiling to floor, with book 
  shelves and scroll shelves containing records dating back nearly to the 
  First Interval. The most stunning feature is the broad sheet of clear 
  muscovite that stretches across the ceiling like a giant skylight. Scattered 
  snow obscures the skylight, but light shines through like a glow through a 
  sheet.
An exit leads out into the bowl.

 +view is available - please '+view'
Contents:
Kyril(#8216JMOUps$)
Telgar NPC List
Turn Day Register
Weyr Coverage Map
Council Table
Obvious exits:
Bowl

Tiaryn strides in from the bowl.
Tiaryn has arrived.
Tiaryn peeks around the corner warily. Upon seeing someone here, she ohs 
  softly and turns to go.

There is, indeed, someone here; a slender young woman is seated on a small 
  pile of cushions near the hearthfire, out of the way of any cold breezes 
  which might happen to waft in down the entryway, from the wintry cold of the 
  Bowl. She glances up at the soft sound of someone's tread of feet, and 
  blinks, speaking up earnestly, "You don't have to leave if you need to look 
  something up. I'm just reading."

Tiaryn stops, and turns her head towards the young woman, "I'm actually not 
  that interested in looking anything up. I just wanted to see what a records 
  room in a Weyr looked like. The one back at Reah was tiny compared to this." 
  She wanders around, touching this hide and that, pulling one off the shelf 
  on occasion to look at its contents.

The girl on the cushions, notable mostly by the battered brown hat parked atop 
  her head and a pair of enormous blue eyes peering out from under the brim, 
  considers this, and then nods earnestly. "There are many records here," she 
  replies, her voice quite soft and grave. "Please feel free to look around." 
  Indeed, she's got a hide in her hands and a few in her lap.

Tiaryn looks at you for a moment.
Tiaryn nods, and happily does so, leaning against the shelves to read a 
  particularly old hide.

Mehlani smiles timidly, considering; her blue gaze drops briefly back to her 
  lap, and then furtively peeks over again at the stranger who's come into the 
  quiet chamber.

Tiaryn
Before you stands a petite young woman of about 16 years of age. She has pale 
  green eyes fringed in thick, dark lashes, and heavy auburn hair twisted into 
  a knot at the base of her neck. A few curling tendrils escape, softening the 
  sharp angles of her gaunt, heart shaped face.
Tiaryn wears a soft 'hide skirt in washed out blue that hangs in full folds to 
  mid-calf. Below the hem of her skirt, more hide has been used in creating 
  her slighly worn 'hide boots of a nondescript brown. Her lightly embroidered 
  blouse is clean and white, with long angel sleeves. The embroidery is that 
  of simple vines and tiny blue flowers.

"You are visiting, then?" comes the soft query from the girl sitting on the 
  cushions.

Tiaryn puts her hide back and turns to the girl, "Aye. And hopefully I might 
  find a home here if they've need of someone of my assorted talents."

"There is always work to be done at a Weyr," says the girl in the hat in a 
  sober sort of tone that sounds as if it ought to be coming out of someone 
  twice her age. "You would want to speak to our new Headwoman. Her name is 
  Rhiallya."

Tiaryn smiles a bit, "I've got a mind to do that. Everytime I see her, she's 
  very busy though, and I hate to bother her."

Mehlani explains earnestly, "Well... Headwomen are very busy all the time, it 
  seems... but you do need to speak with her if you want to stay here..." She 
  trails off, a bit shyly.

Tiaryn nods, "Aye. Its just that my mother was a Headwoman, and she always 
  hated to be bothered with things when she was busy...but then again, I don't 
  remember her as ever being unbusy." The young lady ponders this thought for 
  a few moments, shaking her head in bemusement.

"Mothers are busy a lot, too," agrees the girl in the hat softly.

Tiaryn nods slowly, and then grins, "I'm sorry. Here I am chatting away with 
  you, and I don't even know your name. I'm Tiaryn."

That prompts a shy smile from the other girl. "My name is Mehlani," she 
  answers.

Tiaryn purses her lips, and rolls the name about on her tongue, "Mehlani. Very 
  pretty. Well met, Mehlani." She then turns to peruse the map on the wall, 
  head cocked this way, then that.

"Thank you," says the behatted girl, dipping her head a bit, so that the hat 
  brim hides whether or not she's blushing. But there is a bit of a smile 
  curving her lips. "Your name is nice, too. Welcome to Telgar Weyr..."

L'mis strides in from the bowl.
L'mis has arrived.

Tiaryn drops a little curtsey in Mehlani's direction, "Thank you." She turns 
  from the map as another person enters the room.

L'mis walks in, quietly, and makes his way to one of the shelves. A very small 
  smile flashes across his tired-looking face as he spots Mehlani. And he nods 
  gravely to the other.

Tiaryn nods in return to the rider's nod, fingers trailing once again over the 
  hides upon the shelves.

Mehlani blinks and looks up at the rider's entrance, and returns him a small 
  shy smile. She rises up off the cushions on wich she had been sitting, and 
  says earnestly, "Hello, sir..." She gestures to Tiaryn, and adds, "This is 
  Tiaryn, she hopes to stay at the Weyr."

L'mis pauses in his search through the hides on the shelves, and says softly 
  to Mehlani, "Afternoon, miss." Glancing at the young woman next to her, he 
  says, "Er, welcome to Telgar, then." He clears his throat with a rough cough.

Mehlani goes on, this time to the other girl, "This is L'mis, blue Golrath's 
  rider."

L'mis nods at Mehlani, and his features soften slightly as he looks back at 
  Tiaryn.

Tiaryn drops another curtsey, this one for the rider, her smile also a bit 
  shy, "Well met, sir, and thank you."

L'mis nods once more, and then turns his head toward the shelves for a short 
  while. He pulls out one hide, opens it and shakes his head. He returns it to 
  the shelf and starts his search again.

"Can I help you find something...?" Mehlani asks the rider softly.

L'mis makes a noise -- could that be a chuckle? -- and turns his gaze toward 
  Mehlani. "No, thank you. Just browsing," he answers, tiredly.

Tiaryn smiles at Mehlani, and nods to the rider, "I'm going to go find the 
  Headwoman. Good day to you both."
Tiaryn has left.

L'mis holds another hide in his hand, his eyes absently scanning the contents. 
  "I trust you are well?" he asks, not looking up.

"Yes sir," is Mehlani's soft reply. She considers, then scoots her cushions 
  slightly back from the hearth, just in case the rider might like to share in 
  the warmth of the fire.

Looking up a moment, L'mis sees the movement and considers. With a sigh, he 
  rolls up the hide and walks over toward the hearth. "Do you mind?" he asks.

Mehlani gravely shakes her head.

L'mis smiles gratefully for a moment, and sinks down onto a pillow. He sighs 
  again, but more contentedly than before.

Mehlani gives a small shy smile of her own, and settles her much younger and 
  much more nimble frame back down onto the cushion that had been serving her 
  for a seat. She shoves her hat back on her head, and reaches for the hide 
  she'd been perusing.

L'mis just watches the fire for a moment, and then unrolls his hide. An old 
  record of dragon names from old hatchings, the hide is likely due to be 
  copied again. The script is fading and L'mis' eyes strain at times to read 
  the words. But he does so quietly.

The silence seems to suit Mehlani well, though she does murmur "You and 
  Golrath are well also, I hope, sir?" as she settles in again, the firelight 
  playing across her features and her hat.

L'mis nods slowly in answer, although he does admit, "Joints are a bit stiff 
  for me, but that's usual in winter." He coughs twice, and then adds, 
  "Especially at my age."

Mehlani smiles shyly, and offers, "Father has a bad leg.... the healers made 
  him take a tea for it, and he still has to take it sometimes..."

L'mis nods at that. "We older folk seem to collect such injuries," he says, in 
  reference to - among other things - his arm. "And the cold doesn't help 
  things. Winter, *between* - it can wear on you."

The girl bobs her behatted head in sober comprehension. "And the dragons," she 
  murmurs.

L'mis tilts his head in agreement. "Yes," he mutters.

Mehlani considers this, quirking her head a bit, and she dips her attention to 
  her lap and the hide in it again, not sure whether the rider before her 
  wants to discuss his ailments and those of his dragon.

L'mis catches an expression on the young woman's face, and says, "Golrath is 
  fine, actually. His good spirits are helping me through this winter." After 
  this, he too looks unsure the other wants to speak on the matter. So he 
  looks down at the hide, narrowing his eyes to read a particular line.

"I'm happy to hear that," Mehlani says softly, and means it. "I... haven't 
  seen either of you in much time, I'm glad you're well!"

L'mis smiles, then, and says, "I thank you. I inquire about you, too, but 
  rarely see you." He coughs again and winces for a moment. Then he adds, "But 
  I always hear good things about you, and that brightens my days some."

Mehlani blushes, pinkly, visible despite the relative dimness of the room and 
  the shadow of her hat's brim. "Thank you," she whispers. She considers, then 
  adds, "I've been staying alone, mostly, since I came back from Greystones..."

L'mis nods slowly. "We all have times we want to be alone," he observes, and 
  then leaning back slightly, he adds, "You have a right, just like anybody 
  else."

Mehlani peeks up, and smiles a bit, and nods her head.

L'mis looks toward the exit a moment, and his eyes flash in the light. 
  "Golrath is, as always, right. I trust you aren't still sad about the 
  hatching?"
L'mis suddently swallows and says softly, "Sorry. That was wrong to ask."

Mehlani blinks. The question clearly takes her aback, and her mouth opens and 
  closes a bit, before she finally manages a reply. "I... am content enough 
  now, sir," she says earnestly. "I've had... other things to think about." 
  She chews her lower lip a moment, and concludes, "It's alright! I don't mind 
  the question."

L'mis nods, then. "Good to hear that." Setting the hide down and rubbing the 
  back of his neck, the bluerider says, "And I won't ask again. Your business 
  is certainly not mine."

"I don't mind sharing it with you, sir," Mehlani says truthfully.

L'mis just bobs his head.
A deep warble comes from outside, and L'mis looks toward the bowl.

Mehlani blinks, glancing up, and she smiles a little. "Please tell Golrath 
  hello for me?" she requests.

L'mis stirs from his seat, and smiles sheepishly. "Of course." He sighs once 
  more as he rolls up the hide and puts it inside his jacket. "He wishes you a 
  good evening," L'mis relays. "Meanwhile, he says it's time for some oil - 
  and you understand that, of course."

Mehlani inclines her head quietly. "Of course..."
Mehlani then adds, "If you need help...I'd be happy to assist you with 
  Golrath, sir..."

L'mis closes the top button of his jacket, and says, "Thank you for the 
  offer." He coughs, and then says, "Maybe not tonight -- but the next time 
  you're available and I feel better, I will let you know."

Mehlani nods again, in that grave way of hers, and rises politely to her feet.

Good eve, Mehlani," the bluerider says, turning slowly and heading out into 
  the cold.

L'mis slips out of the records cavern.
L'mis has left.

[End log.]