Building Muscles And Discipline


Enceth F'min.jpg Merendezen.jpg Tuorth Uveline.jpg Voldrath

Date: September 15, 2010 - ICly same class as Firestone and Firebreathing
Location: Eastern Weyr: Upper Bowl East
Synopsis: F'min instructs about building up muscles to pass firestone bags safely. Uveline (and Enceth) ask questions, and Enceth crosses the line between curious and rude.
Rating: PG for descriptions of damaged to poor Voldrath
Logger: Uveline

Day 06, Month 11, Turn 01, AIVAS Reckoning, First Long Pass

Eastern Weyr: Upper Bowl East

The eastern section of the upper bowl is flat. Compared to the rest of this bowl, it's almost polished. The smell of grass seed and dragon oil permeates the air here, occasionally joined by the sweet scent of timothy hay. On the far eastern wall is the entrance to the beast caverns, surrounded by the strong wooden fencing that encloses the seedlings of grass in the area that will be the Feeding Pens. Further north, the weyrling barracks are nestled into the northeast corner; the whole area is a constant haze of activity. Most of the cross-bowl traffic is further west of here, kept centered by the uneven lay of that ground. Because of that, this area is a popular spot for those who want to spend free time lounging in the sun or taking a meal outdoors. To the south is the ever-growing scoop in the ground where - hopefully - the lake will be soon.

Waiting as the weyrlings assemble, F'min leans back against a large brown dragon laden with bulging sacks that appear to be quite heavy. As before, he whittles, the little shavings floating from the quick, sure knicks of his belt knife. It is beginning to look like a whistle with a pod of shipfish frolicking up the sides. However this time he doesnt lounge for long, waiting to make sure theyre all there. As soon as the appointed time arrives, he stows his knife and the carving. His fingers lift to his mouth to let out that sharp, piercing whistle. "Ranks weyrlin's. Dragonets can stand aside until y're in order." Taking something from one of the sacks, he strides out and faces them to mark the center column, letting them form up from there. As before, he stands feet planted and hands behind his back. Once all are in place he nods to Voldrath, who instructs the dragonets to go stand to the right of their riders.

Let nobody say Uveline has a poor memory. The harper-turned-weyrling is among the first into the bowl, and, once they are sent to form into their columns, one of the first to take up her position, fourth in her column ahead of another greenrider. Enceth has followed in Uveline's wake and, once given prompting by Voldrath, settles in beside her rider. Uveline smooths her shirt, which is clean as F'min requires, and glances at her dragon, the green shining with a fresh coat of oil. After a brief reassurance from the green, Uveline focuses her eyes back forward and watches F'min, waiting to see what they are to learn today.

M'zen is not late, though one could say different about his lifemate who takes his time in following the man who leads him. Though the look back at him from M'zenn is enough to send him scrambling over, quite literally scrambling as his large size once again escapes him. Green eyes roll as his lifemates catches up and then falls into his proper place while Zen takes his own. It takes his own will to keep the bronze listening to the brown who instructs him and once released, he bumbles over to the right of his lifemate and takes a proper stance with a mental chiding from his rider.

F'min doesn't turn his head, but his eyes seem to find the two latecomers as they slip into their places, dragonets beside them. "P'ret an'L'don, y'll run three laps around th'entire weyr bowl after th'class. When y're given a time t'show up, be there," he tells the two sternly. "Now that everyone's in line, weyrlin's take two steps forward from y'r lifemates. Keep y'r formation. Y'should able t'see th'person in front, behind an't'each side as before." From behind his back he produces a stone about twice the size of his own fist. Strolling down to the end of the first row, he tosses it to the weyrling standing there. "V'tol, will y'please tell th'class what that is."

The weyrling catches it and looks at it, then gives a sniff, wrinkling his nose. "It's firestone…. sir." There's a pause in which F'min's eyebrows raise before he remember the title.

The brown rider nods once. "Toss th'stone t'th'next weyrlin'across. All o'y'take a look at th'stone an'pass it t'th'next person. Do not walk over an'hand it t'them. Toss. It." Taking a couple steps back, he rolls up his sleeves, watching the stone.

Uveline takes the commanded two steps quickly, lining herself up with the fourth members of the columns to her left and right. Enceth begins to step forward as well but Uveline stops her, shaking her head at the green. With a grumble Enceth withdraws, settling back into her original position reluctantly. With a brief smile for her lifemate Uveline returns her attention to F'min, watching as he offers the stone to V'tol. The weyrling's words elicit a curious look from the harper as she cranes her head to see the stone, watching to see how well the passing between weyrlings goes. It'll take it a bit to reach her, after all.

M'zen watches F'min with a mild interest, at least he's paying attention while Tuorth doesn't seem to be entirely listening, turning his attention elsewhere until Zen takes his two steps forward and remains facing forward. Tuorth, luckily, does not leave his appointed spot before both of their attention turn to V'tol as he holds the firestone and remains reluctant to toss the stone right away.

F'min's eyes spark with a bit of amusement as he watches one of the greens try and step forward with her rider. He gives a gesture to V'tol. "Go ahead." V'tol gives it a toss, which just makes it to the next weyrling. The lad gives it a once over, refrains from sniffing it before he tosses it towards M'zen.

Once the stone has made it's way across the front row and is traveling across the second row, F'min walks along that front row, his laden dragon to his side. As he goes, he tosses a sack to the feet of the weyrling at the head of the column, warning the weyrlings not to touch them, yet. Each one lands a hands breadth from the booted toes, settling with a heavy thud that raises a puff of dust. When he reaches the end, he waits for the last catch of the stone holds a hand up for it to be returned to him. He catches it neatly in that hand and tucks into the last sack, which thuds to the feet of the last weyrling in the front row. "Now, most o'y', if not all o'y', dug in th'lake durin'y'r candidacy. Many of y'wondered what that could possibly have t'do with bein'a dragon rider. Here's y'r answer. Th'first people in line may now lift th'sack in front o'them, angive it t'th'person behind them." He waits, and watches, as the weyrlings reach down and give their first tug at the nearly one hundred pound sacks of rock.

M'zen catches the stone and gives it a quiet look over, brows furrowing with thought before he tosses it over to the next person in line. He does, however look back to give Tuorth a scolding look. No hiding your distraction from your lifemate, it seems. And the bronze chuffs softly while reluctantly turning attention to the lesson at hand. F'min speaks and the bronzerider looks to the man once more, not touching the sack until instructed. Heavy lifting is no problem for Zen, normally… But a sack of stone does prove to be a little more than he's used to as he hands the sack back to the weyrling behind him.

As the stone works its way through the ranks of the weyrlings Uveline remains focused on F'min, watching him pace along the front and unload the sacks. When the stone comes her way Uveline catches it - barely, but she does manage it. Smiling to herself, she looks it over for a moment before she starts to throw it toward the next weyrling, only to freeze when Enceth snorts at some thought of her rider. Uveline glares at her lifemate, and the ensuing silent exchange leads to a slight slumping of the weyrling's shoulders before she resolutely turns her attention to passing on the rock. Shaking her head, Uvvy sends the chunk of firestone on its way to the next weyrling, careful to be sure the boy is looking her way before lobbing it to him. Then she's waiting her turn for the sack to reach her - which apparently will take a while, as the weyrling ahead of her, paired with the blue in her column, fumbles the sack and drops it, narrowly missing his feet.

"A dragon cannot eat enough rock t'sustain flame through an entire Fall all at once. Not only is their stomach not big enough, it would be like y'eatin'a hatchin'feast, an' then tryin't'run around th'bowl twenty times. Y'wouldn'make it. So, as soon as y're cleared t'go between, y'will be flyin' resupply wing durin'Fall. Which means, y'all need t'be able t'throw a bag," he nods to the sacks now sitting at the backs of the rows, "jus' like that one,with absolute, perfect accuracy. There can be no mistakes. If a bag is over o'under thrown, an'a rider can't catch it, it can hit a rider below who is unaware… that much rock fallin' on a rider can easily kill them…" he pauses there to look around, letting that bit of information sink in.

M'zen listens to F'min speak, repeating it quietly to Tuorth to make sure the dragon is at least listening to him, if not F'min. His arms are lifted and stretched.

The blue weyrling who dropped the sack looks mortified when F'min notes that a mishandled bag of firestone could harm his fellow riders. Carefully, the boy hefts the bag, then makes sure he has a firm and stable grip before he passes it on to Uveline. The woman winces at the weight as she takes the sack, happy enough to turn herself and pass it on the green weyrling behind her, who sets it at his feet and faces forward again. Hesitantly, Uveline calls out a question, "How much firestone does it take to last a fall, sir? I mean, how many bags like this does a single dragon use?"

F'min raises his eyebrows as some of the weyrlings actually seem to be able to toss the sack, but he continues with the lesson. "Depends on th'dragon, Uveline, just as in everythin' else. Y'll be learnin' more about things specific t'colors later. For now, y'need to get y'selves an'y'r dragons in their best possible shape."

"Another possible consequence of not throwin'th'bag well," Fmin continues as he motions to Voldrath, who sweeps his wing down. Being able to actually inspect the brown, the weyrlings can see that the main edge is thicker than it should be, due to the extensive thread scoring, which appears to have tried to cut off the dragon's wing before it extends up over the dragon's withers. It starts to trail off towards the neck, where it is interrupted by the outline of a torso and outstretched arm. "It was a Fall that Thread was blowin'everywhere it shoudln'. Th'bag was overthrown, an'we couldn'go between until I was sure I had caught it. Both Voldrath an' I spent a couple sevendays in th'infirmary. Thtime spent there was only made tolerable by a certain blue rider smugglin'Seacraft Ale in behind th'healer's back." He pauses with a reminiscent grin, then he looks up at the class, turning away from the sight of the scoring on his lifmate. "It was almost half a turn b'fore Voldrath could fly properly again." He doesn't take his shirt off, but leaves it to their imagination by the outline of his body on his dragon's back.

M'zen listens to Uveline's question before turning his attention forward again, curious of the answer and nodding along to the fact that it will come later. Green eyes flicker briefly to his lifemate, who he quiets instantly to hear the story of the brownrider's Thread incident. And the marring on the brown is given the quiet respect that it deserves as he listens and examines from where he stands. Even Tuorth eyes it and remains perfectly still and respectful, for now.

Uveline nods as F'min answers her question, filing that information away for further thought. Then her eyes widen as Voldrath displays the scarring, and Enceth's interest is locked firmly on the brown. The green inches forward, wanting a closer look, and she tilts her head this way and that to examine the damage. Uvvy turns slightly green at a question from her lifemate and shakes her head, glancing to the intrigued dragonet. At her prompting Uveline asks another question. "So it was more important to catch the bag of firestone, so you would have fuel, than to immediately skip between to kill the Thread?"

F'min's eyes go to the source of the question. "It was more important t'catch th'bag o'firestone so it wouldn'fall on another rider below me," his stern voice sharply harking back to his warning of a dropped bag. The blue of his eyes piercing. "As I mentioned, a dropped bag can fall on an'unsuspectin' rider. Imagine that sack that y' just passed back t'y'r weyrlin'mates fallin' on y'r head from some untold distance above y'." Was she listening this time? Were the rest of the weyrlings? His eyes rake over them to check their attention. "Especially as bronzes an'browns fly th'higher altitudes, there're many dragons below them. I could not risk havin'th'bag fall. As soon as th'bag was secure, we went *between* t'kill th'Thread."

M'zen presses his lips tightly together for the story and committing it all to memory at this point while Tuorth once again settles into a more relaxed position. Still, no questions from the pair while they commit to learning everything whatever is spoken.

Uveline blushes at the tone of F'min's response, having not made that connection. She then tilts her head slightly, still listening to Enceth's private questions. "Would it work, in a situation like that, to warn the rider, or riders, below you to skip, too, so you don't take the extra damage? Or get enough of a contact with the bag to take it between, where it can fall safely?" That piercing gaze causes her to falter and the weyrling subsides, looking at her toes. Enceth bobs her head slightly, reaching out to nudge her rider encouragingly and crooning softly to her.

F'min turns to face the class as a whole, and clasps his hands behind his back once more, standing solidly. "Look around th'weyr," he instructs. "Nearly every dragon here that isn't'old t'chew firestone, or injured, will turn out t'fight thread. Should we warn every one of them, in'th'middle of a fall, when they need t'be concentratin'on maintainin' their pattern an'fightin'thread t'wink out for a minute so that they can avoid a sack that may, or may not be fallin' towards them? What if they wink back in th'middle ov'a clump o'thread?"

His piercing eyes scan the group, passing swiftly past the green weyrling asking the questions. "Fightin'Thread is NOT a game o'catch, or tag. Y'can't call 'time out, I made a mistake!' Mistakes can be deadly. Don't make them."

M'zen presses his lips tighter together as F'min continues to speak, listening quietly and then nodding in understanding to each word and taking each to heart.

Uveline leans against Enceth's supporting head as F'min continues to speak, keeping her head down as she listens to his reply. The woman nods at his order to make no mistakes, darting glances at him and her fellow weyrlings through her eyelashes. She doesn't argue F'min's misunderstanding of what she meant by her question, though Enceth grumbles softly behind her. The green is shushed by her lifemate, but her eyes continue to whirl faster with her agitation.

Dragon> To Enceth, Voldrath projects « You and your lifemate can stay after class to talk with mine. » The can is emphasized in a way that means they will stay. « Stand at attention. »

Dragon> To Voldrath, Enceth's voice is harsh with the scent of redwort and blood, and the haunting taint of decay. « We will stay. » The words are clipped, measured, falling in time with the tick-tick of a timepiece.

"Now, as y'know, th'bags y'just lifted're heavy. An'y'll have t'throw them further than th'distance just between y'an th'one standin' behind y'. There're a lot o'things we're going t'do t'get y'strong enough. Runnin', weights, push ups, an' a lot more. We're goin't'start with a warm up that y're goin't'need a partner." At this point, F'min motions over one of the assistant weyrlingmasters. "Take a rock out o'th'sack at th'back of y'r row, about th'size o'y'r head. Find a partner next t'y, an'stand back t'back with them." He will continue to talk as he demonstrates with the other weyrling master how to pass the rock to the partner by twisting your upper body to receive it one side, and hand it off on the other. The rest of the class will be spent with other exercises meant to work on building up their muscles.

"It's important t'remember t'not overdo it. Y'r muscles need t'build up gradually. No more than three times a week on these exercises." With that last bit of instruction, F'min dismisses the class.

Uveline works through the rest of the class, pairing up with the green weyrling behind her for the exercises and keeping her comments to a minimum. As the class winds down and the other weyrlings disburse she and Enceth remain, the woman standing beside her dragon and waiting to see what F'min wants with them. Enceth has calmed during the class, eyes whirling at a normal pace now as she waits with her rider.

When the green pair presents themselves to F'min at the end of class, he takes a moment as he rolls his sleeves back down, before he looks at the two of them. "So, Miss Uvvy. Were all o'Enceth's questions answered this afternoon?" he asks, his eyebrow raising over one eye.

Uveline blushes as F'min identifies the source of the questions, hesitating before she shakes her head slightly. "No, but she says she wants to think about them more," Uveline says softly. A pause, and she continues, "Or really, she wants /me/ to think about them more, and then she'll give me her opinion on what I come up with." Worried about F'min's opinion of her lifemate's questions, Uveline explains, "Enceth doesn't like it when anyone - rider, dragon, or weyrfolk - gets hurt, and she likes alternatives. She likes options. She wants to know every action available and the risks involved."

F'min considers for a long moment. "No one likes t'have anyone in th'weyr get hurt. But there are times when it is unavoidable. There're times when a rider must act on behalf o'th'rest o'th'weyr without thinkin'o'th'consequence t'himself. That's somethin'that Enceth should think on." The suggestion is delivered with a sort of authority that indicates perhaps it's more than just a suggestion. "I could not have taken th'chance o'hopin'the bag was secured enough t'go between with us. I had t'/make sure/ it went between with us." Over head, Voldrath rumbles in agreement, his large head swinging around to the green dragonet, reiterating what his rider has said to the weyrling. With a nod, F'min indicates the rest of the departing class that is headed either to the barracks or the lake to wash off. "Think about it, both o'y'." With that, the weyrling is dismissed.

Uveline nods to F'min, and Enceth passes her understanding of the message to Voldrath. "Thank you, sir. We'll think on that, and see where it gets us," Uveline says before the two salute and depart, headed to the lake.

Dragon> To Enceth, Voldrath projects « The weyr is not every dragon for himself. To worry about how you may get hurt wastes valuable time in acting to save all, and may save no one. One must be selfless in battle. »

Dragon> To Voldrath, Enceth's returning thought is intense with frustation. « It's not me I worry about. It's everyone else, » she replies before closing off the connection and moving away with Uveline, eyes whirling her agitation once more.

Voldrath throws up his head and roars at the departing pair. "Uveline," F'min's voice snaps out after them. "Apparently we're not finished." He does not move towards her, but the implication is clear that they should return. "Or, more t'th'point Voldrath was not finished. Enceth will listen t'Voldrath, an'then you will run three laps of th'bowl t'help th'two o'y'learn manners. It is no more acceptable for a dragonet t'mouth back than it is for th'weyrlin'."

Uveline starts when Voldrath roars, unaware of the conversation that had passed between the dragons. F'min's words draw her back, and she blinks at him in confusion before nodding, looking at Enceth closely. The green huffs and paces beside her rider, tail twitching with her bottled up frustration, but she opens her mind to the other dragon again.

Dragon> To Enceth, Voldrath projects « You are suggesting that everyone else should think about themselves when they are fighting to reduce their risk of injury. This is suggesting that they should be involved with themselves. What I said applies to every dragon, and you should not encourage them to think otherwise. »
(Note: ICly, Voldrath also scolded Enceth for her poor behavior. Honest.)

Dragon> To Voldrath, Enceth replies with a muted beating of drums, measured and methodical, wrapped with the still-intense scent of redwort. « I am not. I am suggesting alternatives to removing a badly needed fighter from the wings for months of recovery, or potentially losing them entirely, to a mistake. I don't mean to be insulting or anything else, I just want to know if other options are viable. I can't know if I don't ask! »

Dragon> To Enceth, Voldrath projects « And you were told. Sometimes that answer is no. Sometimes there is no alternative than a rider and dragon getting hurt. Getting frustrated and closing your mind will not change that fact. When you are in Threadfall and there is a split second to act and save others, you do not have time to think of alternatives. You act. »

Dragon> To Voldrath, Enceth projects « Except we weren't at first. All we were told was 'don't make mistakes'. Not that there were other options than waiting for the catch to be secure. So when I asked, I wasn't trying to get anyone to think about themselves, but to see if there were ways to avoid injury in that kind of situation. »

Dragon> To Enceth, Voldrath projects « You were told not to mistakes because this is proof that there is very little that can be done when a mistake is made. Mistakes most often lead to injury. As mine said, Mistakes can be deadly. You can't think about trying to avoid injury when a mistake is made, all you can do is hope you don't get hurt making up for the mistake. »

Dragon> To Voldrath, Enceth projects « Again, it is why I asked for more information. Planning can thwart most errors, so it seemed logical to /ask/. My intent was not to cause disruptions, but all that has happened is mine and myself have been scolded for daring to inquire about something. Pardon me for taking that poorly. »

Dragon> To Enceth, Voldrath cocks his head curiously at the green and says, «Exactly. Planning thwarts errors. Errors not made are what result in riders not being hurt. Your choices when errors are made are few, and if youre /lucky/ if no one gets hurt. Thats why its critical that you strive not to make them, rather than asking, « what if I do? » There is no what if. You make a mistake, someone most likely gets hurt. End of discussion, logical or not. You and your rider were not punished for asking. You were punished for being rude when you didn't get the answer you were expecting or wanted. »

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