Post by Omnia Munda on Oct 2, 2008 20:36:05 GMT -8
The living cavern wore its best to the memorial, though the same could not quite be said for many who attended. Telgar Weyr was gowned in the expected grays and blacks, long drapes of fabric swagged from the hooks that normally supported (and, underneath, still did) the great tapestries that softened the cavern's high walls. The tables were laden with white and gray like solemn ballgowns, and lest the occasion feel too funerary harpers played quietly in one corner, where a spot of floor cleared of tables and chairs even permitted a little dancing. The feast was generous, though not so much as to compare with a hatching celebration - certainly not quite like the one that had welcomed Telgar's latest weyrlings, among them so notably a new weyrwoman. Nevertheless, the occasion merited course after course of fine meats, aged cheeses, succulent starches, various vegetables and all manner of pastry and pies. Wine flowed freely alongside the best of Telgar's beers, and as a result many of the gathering's goers were in more cheer than a memorial necessarily would merit.
J'fel appeared early and spoke with few, notably Lord Crom, whose usual attitude of annoyance when presented with all things dragonriderly had been considerably diluted by liberal application of alcohol and, thanks to the manner in which the memorialized dragonriders had presumably lost their lives, guilt. The weyrleader was soon enough joined by the weyrwoman, whose somewhat pallid figure was draped as generously as Telgar's walls in a soft and shimmering fabric of dusky gold. She socialized little but graciously, and withdrew with her boy weyrleader in tow well before the first of the meat courses was put out on the serving tables.
In their absence the gathering grew more lively, despite the grey shroud of loss that threatened to descend. Food, drink and music held it mostly at bay, leaving those below free to discuss what man might take S'danna's place in the weyrleader's wing, who was pregnant lately and by whom, and what exactly had happened to the men they were all celebrating, anyway.
J'fel appeared early and spoke with few, notably Lord Crom, whose usual attitude of annoyance when presented with all things dragonriderly had been considerably diluted by liberal application of alcohol and, thanks to the manner in which the memorialized dragonriders had presumably lost their lives, guilt. The weyrleader was soon enough joined by the weyrwoman, whose somewhat pallid figure was draped as generously as Telgar's walls in a soft and shimmering fabric of dusky gold. She socialized little but graciously, and withdrew with her boy weyrleader in tow well before the first of the meat courses was put out on the serving tables.
In their absence the gathering grew more lively, despite the grey shroud of loss that threatened to descend. Food, drink and music held it mostly at bay, leaving those below free to discuss what man might take S'danna's place in the weyrleader's wing, who was pregnant lately and by whom, and what exactly had happened to the men they were all celebrating, anyway.
