Business Trips

Participants:

Keane.jpg Kelarad.jpg and Crawl (NPC)

Date: Jan. 18, 2011
Location: Outside the Blood and Bucket, Telgar / Bowl, Eastern Weyr
Synopsis: A certain criminal barkeep and a certain crimelord arrives to Eastern Weyr for business in the morning.
Rating: PG
Logger: Keane


The trip Between never gets any easier.

The Tillekian crimelord came through on his end, bringing by a bronzerider that was in his pocket from High Reaches. Before he left with his things, the old barkeep gave Rordan – the one helping him run the bar thanks to a certain headwoman down south – precise instructions on how to run things while he was gone. He wasn’t exactly trusting of the young man yet, but he figured that this was as good a time as any to test his loyalty – even if he had a good idea who Rordan is really loyal to. It didn’t matter to him none. He explained what to do and say should any crimelords show up, and anything else that suited him. Kelarad stood there through it all, amused at the display of business affairs before Keane then ushered them both out of the bar. Crawl, Rad’s second, was waiting by their transport in the form of bronzerider G’rieden, watching the surroundings carefully as one ought to do when working for one of Pern’s powerful renegades.

“You’ll see it again,” Kelarad notes wryly when he catches Keane looking over his shoulder back towards the Blood and Bucket bar more than once. He couldn’t really talk himself. He was rather fond of his own territory, too. “Though I suspect this ‘business’ you have down south all of a sudden must be that important for it to part a barkeep from his beloved bar.” He’s probing for information, curiosity apparent in his tone as he approaches the big bronze dragon waiting in the trees.

Having been caught, “Haven’t parted from that bar for longer than you were born, pup,” Keane grunts, sending the young renegade a dirty look as he trails after him. He’ll ignore the leading statement, too. His business was his business. Eyes roaming uncomfortably over the dragon that’s looming close, “Ain’t exactly used to one of these, so…” and he’s not about to admit that he’s nervous and maybe just a little scared that he might fall off in Between or something. Therefore, he’s going to eye that dragon like it’s a wagon with three wheels, with the driver havig just told him that they’re going to ride that all across Pern and back within a sevenday.

Kelarad smirks at the response to his age, but makes no comment. Instead, as he nods toward G’rieden to get his bronze ready, “Let’s mount up,” he announces to all the men present, Crawl moving to stash all the bags with the bronzerider for the trip. Back to Keane, “Nothing to it really,” he adds as an aside to him, making the words at least sound reassuring with that misplaced cheerful grin. “You can close your eyes if it gets to be too much. I won’t laugh.” Well, he might. It might be rather entertaining to him to see the old barkeep rattled for once. Seems like nothing rattles the man, which somewhat irritates the crimelord.

Keane snorts at those return words and with help, mounts the bronze dragon without another word. He could hear the low chuckle from Kelarad at his back as the other then mounts, and scowling heavily as G’rieden settles down last and directs his Navireth to the sky.

* ** ** Between ** ** *

Once through the even colder Between, the first thing that hits the owner of the Blood and Bucket was how warm the air was. He took care in his dressing to accommodate the fact, but he had a feeling that it wasn’t enough. Barely five minutes gliding through the air and over what was clearly a Weyr already had all the northerners onboard perspiring. Even G’rieden seems to be discomforted by the heat, though the Reachian bronzerider still manages to direct his bronze to take an earnest circle around the Weyr as they look for a suitable landing spot. Yeah, these men were clearly not cut out for the southern heat.

“Dicori must have Igenites in her blood to stand being down here for longer than a day,” Kelarad calls through the slight wind, throwing the words behind him towards both Crawl and Keane before he peers over the bronzerider’s shoulder and taps his arm. Pointing towards a big enough clearing in the bowl against the morning light, “There!” he directs G’rieden then, nodding sharply to get his attention. “Less folks about there!”

G’rieden says nothing and follows orders, silently directing Navireth towards the spot the Tillekian crimelord pointed to. Once the bronze dragon lands, the Reachian bronzerider takes a long look around the sparsely populated bowl before turning a bit in his seat towards the crimelord and nodding his way. He nimbly dismounts before helping the others down, then he sets himself to unloading the cargo with Kelarad’s second.

“Told you it was nothing to it,” Kelarad directs behind him once he dismounts, slapping dust off his hands and turning about to give the confines of the Weyr his scrutiny. He wasn’t a fan of any Weyr, having only been within one only once before this time before vowing never to do so again – and yet, here he was. He immediately notices the differences between this Weyr down south to the Reachian one up north, and he comes to no decision to which Weyr was better. To Kelarad, a Weyr was a Weyr.

As for Keane, the last thing he was thinking about was how the Weyr looked. Once down from the dragon, his knees nearly buckled, wincing from the hard landing before catching wind of the crimelord’s remark. Flight was something he didn’t want to experience all that much ever again, and Between was even worse. Grunting as he dusts himself off before looking around them, “Pretty hot,” he comments, refusing to acknowledge that the flight spooked him, and so, he was going to talk about the damn weather. “Ain’t nothing like the north.”

“Should be perfect for you then, old man,” Kelarad comments wryly, moving over to clap the old barkeep on the shoulder. “Hear that the southern heat does wonders for the bones.” He’s still looking about them, those few weyrfolk noticing them getting a flat look from him. Nosy weyr-people. Back to Keane, “You can handle a sevenday in this, can you?” he puts to him then, looking his way with a barely-there smirk in place. He was thinking the man was going to have second thoughts, hop back on the dragon and run straight back to his beloved bar.

Keane knew what the renegade meant, and he sends Kelarad a look before he checks out the bowl. “I can handle it longer than you, apparently,” he drawls, sliding a glance his way. “What is it for you, a couple of days? Gonna let a Weyr run you out, Rad?”

“I’ve got business to attend to back home,” is Kelarad’s distinguished excuse, sniffing as he nods towards where he thinks the living cavern could be. Nodding to get both the dragonrider and his second’s attention, “We need to make the proper arrangements,” he announces to them all, stepping forward to press into G’rieden’s hand his payment. To him, “I’ll catch you back here around the same time, hm?” he asks, and once he gets his agreement he turns to Crawl and Keane and adds to them, “We need to seek out the Headwoman for rooms. Want to take care of that, old man?”

Snorting, “I’ll see you for a midday meal,” is Keane’s consent, stepping aside and already heading off towards where he sees more of the weyrfolks going in. “Just don’t cause any trouble while I’m gone, Tillek.” Keane doesn’t look back, heading off to help put circulation back into his legs as he actively seeks out whomever and wherever the Headwoman is.

In the meantime Kelarad and Crawl head off towards the living cavern in deep conversation to grab a bite to eat, not looking to be in any hurry to seek out their business just yet – that being a certain new crimelord by the name of Max and a certain relative by the name of Relly. Before the two could even turn back and bid him off, both G’rieden and Navireth are already in the sky and Between in seconds.



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