K'laarn walks in beside Telinda, his arm around her waist loosely. HE glances throughout the hall, a warm smile hovering around his lips. He nods occasionally, greeting others.

Margali says "I do make many of the white robes for candidates, the tunics and breeches of the weyr"

Margali says "I just like a little more for myself"

Ysanne nods to Telinda and K'laarn before adding to Moira's comment. "I can't do anything that fancy myself. Though I've been practising my stitches."

Telinda smiles as she wanders in, and lifts a hand waving. Head tilts over her shoulder to grin at K'laarn, "Well, I sure wish she'd hurry, I'd tired of sleeping outside."

Margali says "this was a solid white dress that I then usd a paint brush to add the dyes"

Shadara chuckles and nods to Moira, then glances up at the newcomers, eyes drifting down to her mug again.

Tiarnath> Rnayth senses that Tiarnath wriggles uncomfortablly << Lumpy! >>

Moira murmurs a greeting to K'laarn and Telinda before informing Ysa, sotto voce, "I couldn't even -think- of something like that." She nods at Margali, then huhs at the thought. "Sort of using the dress like a canvas, yeah. That'd make more sense than sewing different bits of cloth together, that's for sure."

Ysanne frowns in consideration of hte whole process "But you've washed it - so, how'd you get the dyes to work as paints?"

K'laarn laughs softly and says "Well, I'm tired of you sleeping outside too." His voice carries a meaningful tone to it.

Dragon> Tiarnath senses that Rnayth tips his head to inspect your middle. << Lumpy! >> He agrees firmly. << When will you not be so lumpy anymore?? >> He wonders as his head dips down to nuzzle you affectionately.

Telinda pokes K'laarn in the side with a smile "You would!" and moves away, heading for the wine skins, "Evening Moira, Ysanne, Margali" she says cheerfully.

Margali says "Dyes are meant to permanently stain cloth."

Tiarnath> Rnayth senses that Tiarnath ponders this for a moment << Well. Now. Maybe. She's gone afterall. >>

K'laarn pauses where Telinda left him, a wince on his face and his hand rubbing his side. "Ouch." He says simply.

Margali says "so of course they don't wash out."

Margali says "Hello Telinda"

Dragon> Tiarnath senses that Rnayth allows his tail to twitch in excitement. << Good. Where should we go? Somewhere nice and warm. >> He suggests.

Ysanne nods at Margali. "I guess I dont understand dyes. I just thought tye'd run or not make the same sorts of marks as paints."

Margali says "Dyes are just applied in tinier amounts."

Shadara looks over at the cheerful newcomers, chewing on her lip a little as she goes quiet, shyness kicking in again

Tiarnath> Rnayth senses that Tiarnath warbles thoughtfully, her mind sounding iritated, << The beach is nice. There's even water down there to bath in. >>

Margali says "My bringing back this technique this pass which had died out after the 8th pass is how I made journeywoman"

Ysanne sips her klah, contemplating that information, then says quietly to Margali "Well, I don't paint. In fact, I'm not so sure I draw very well, but it sounds interesting. Maybe I coudl watch sometime?"

Telinda grabs a wine skin, and two glasses, pouring one each for herself and K'laarn. Handing one over she settles herself at a table and nods to the stranger, Shadara, cordially.

Aisha walks over from the Landing Field.

Dragon> Tiarnath senses that Rnayth however, is all practicality. << It is far too open though. People could get at the eggs and there's only two of us. IT would be nice to be so close to water, but I do not like all the unprotected parts. >>

Moira pokes Ysa's side, though gently. "You draw just fine," she corrects, having overheard, of course.

K'laarn walks over to Telinda and takes the glass after Telinda pours him some wine and sits down, stretching his feet out in front of him easily. "Ahh, what a way to spend the evening."

Bertha glances over from the infant she's tending and smiles at K'laarn. "I'll take a dab o' that too please laddie!"

Tiarnath> Rnayth senses that Tiarnath doesn't sound at all convinced, << Lets go look shall we? >>

Aisha steps in, pushing her hair off her face.

Margali says "We shall see, I don't usually let people watch when I paint whether on canvas or tapestry"

Shadara peeks at the two through her lashes and nods a bit before looking down again.

Margali says "on hte other hand, harper hall has contacted me about a possible new commission. A major tapestry and I will need help of some weaver apprentices"

Dragon> Tiarnath senses that Rnayth sounds doubvtful. << Well, we can look >> He agrees. << But do not lay any eggs until I say I like it >> Such a commanding soul, this dragon.

Aisha spots Margali and puts a few random weyrfolk between herself and the weaver.

Tiarnath> Rnayth senses that Tiarnath hrms. << This isn't only your clutch! Come on slow coach! >>

Tiarnath> You fly toward the open sky above.

Ysanne ohs at Margali, nodding with a frown. "Thats okay. I'm pretty busy anyway."

N'all strides over from the Landing Field.

Tiarnath> In the southern sky, Rnayth moves towards the the open sky above.

N'all walks in and smiles to all, "Heyla."

Tiarnath> In the southern sky, Rnayth soars to the sky over the Landing Field.

Tiarnath> Rnayth moves towards the the sky over the Landing Field.

Tiarnath> Rnayth flies along beside Tiarnath, albeit slowly, because of the golden Queen's bulk. He circles over the beach and grumbles deep within his chest.

Moira grimaces as she hears N'all, but turns and waves to him all the same.

Bertha pokes the male bluerider next to her and whispers "Look it's all!"

Dragon> Rnayth bespoke Tiarnath with << I do not like it. There are Wherries down the beach, and it could rain on them. >>

Aisha collects a cup of tea and some cold fruitpies.

Tiarnath> Tiarnath still manages some grace in the air, even though she's lumpy and egg heavy. Slowly, she cants a wingtip and peers down, warbling a question to the bronze.

Telinda blinks, looks up and out. A frown and she looks over to K'laarn.

Ysanne doesn't look at N'all, but a funny little smile crosses her lips as he enters the Hall and gives greeting.

Moira notes Ysa's smile and rolls her eyes a little, pulling her feet out of her sandals.

J'nab strides over from the Landing Field.

N'all sits down; relaxing with a mug of klah.

Margali says "Telinda, you haven't told me that yet if you are buying that soaring notes painting of mine"

J'nab enters, waving to all and finding a bite at the food hearth.

K'laarn smiles and waves over to N'all as the other bronzerider enters. He glances over at Telinda, as if he felt her gaze. He looks back at her questioningly, noting the frown on her face.

Off in the foyer, a weyrboy looks up curiously at N'all for a moment, frowning as they try to recognize him, then shrugs and goes back to what they were doing.

Telinda smiles, deposition changing momentarily, "You haven't said if you'll sell it to me!"

Margali says "I am waiting for an offer"

Margali says "My paintings after all aren't part of the weaver contract I have as posted weaver here."

Telinda grins, "Well, I'd offer about 10 Marks for starters, how's that sound?" A hand reaches over to nudge K'laarn, "Did Rnayth say anything to you?"

N'all grins to K'laarn, "heyla!"

Margali says "ten?"

Ysanne settles back to listen to the haggling. It at least is distracting her from whatever it was that made her cheeks flush and keep her gaze off N'all. And Moira too. For some reason, she's avoiding looking at Moira..

Margali says "my worst paintings get 50 to 100 normally. Now you are a friend and this isn't one of my best, but it is worth much more than 10"

K'laarn frowns at Telinda and says lightly, "I just asked him what he was doing, and he said he's looking for a good place." He shrugs his shoulders, looking baffled "He hasn't told me what he's looking for a good place for yet."

Telinda has the look of distraction about her as she hrms to Margali. "Well, yeah..umm.." K'laarn's words come through clearly though and she swears vehemently. "Sharding gold. Don't you fragging dare!" Chair falls back as she stands and runs out to the landing field.

Aisha murmurs "Well, that was unexpected."

Ysanne simply says "Beach, I bet."

You walk over to the Landing Field.

Telinda shakes her fist at the air, "Tiarnath! You stupid overweight gold, don't you even try that with me, to the sands. No, not those ones! Those ones" and she points to the looming hatching sands in the distance, "Don't pretend otherwise."

K'laarn manages a smile before he quickly tamps it down. "We'd better meet them over there. Rnayth is appologizing Telinda, he said he tried to convince Tiarnath otherwise."

Tiarnath> Tiarnath bugles irrascibly, and snorts, circling the beach once before half-heartedly heading towards the hatching grounds.

Telinda shakes her head at K'laarn, "Not his fault, I know how she can be. Come on before she changes her mind again!"

K'laarn nods and laughs before he follows after Telinda.

K'laarn strides over to the lakeside meadow.

You walk toward the lakeside meadow.

You walk toward the Entrance to the Hatching Grounds.

Sizzling Hot Sands - Southern Weyr(#339RJa$)

Tiarnath backwings to a landing.

Rnayth backwings to a landing.

Tiarnath snorts at her lifemate, nudging her in the middle before settling down to the business in hand. Lumpy things! Be much better without them.

Tiarnath starts fussing around, first smoothing the sand, then digging it up, then smoothing it. Almost like she's not wanting to be really here, but here anyway. Still, she continues, an odd snort going towards her lifemate as she attempts to make this boring sand more comfortable.

Rnayth tilts his head to one side, watching curiously. He wuffs in the golds direction encouragingly, as if to say 'get on with it already'.

Tiarnath shoves her snout through the sand, piling up a generous amount of sand into a sizable heap. Another snort goes to Rnayth -- a sort of, well, you want to do it?!

Tiarnath turns slightly, facing the galleries. Hrmf, people there. She turns away. Hey, some things should be private you know! The pearly gold of her belly begins to ripple with the suggestion of a contraction and then her tail swishes, lifting away from her body as she eases herself down against the sand. A low growl rumbles from the queen as slowly, her first egg is laid upon the sand in the place she has made for it.

Rnayth starts thrumming with pleasure as while watching Tiarnath's extreme fusiness, she lays her first egg -- their first egg. A loud bugle punctuates the moment.

Deep marine blue-green overshadows every other color on this egg, as if it were thousands of leagues below the surface of the ocean. Creatures and plants almost seem to float within the murky shade of watery aquamarine, like objects suspended within fluid. Interesting shapes swim in odd colors like brilliant-yellow, vibrant-violet, coral-pink, and other various shades with hues that are tainted by the diffusion of light so far beneath the waves. These silhouettes dance across the shell of the egg in fascinating patterns -- long, slender stalks of seaweed green, spiky packtails, swift yellow fish, and many other varieties of sea life, most of them unusual. In no way though is this scene a completely peaceful one. A large inky spot lingers like a menacing cloud, just on the rounded upper part of the eggshell, like some ominous presence lurks just beyond eyesight.

Tiarnath turns and noses her very first egg, giving it a delicate wuff before she starts scraping hot sand up over the shell with her foreclaws. She lifts her head and warbles, the proud tone of an accomplishment well done ringing within the tone. She relaxes beside this egg for a while, paying it strict attention until another contraction begins. A soft, savage growl, the only sign that it might be painful, emerges from parted jaws. She lifts herself from the ground, moving so that the second egg is laid near to the first.

Long geometrical shapes wrap around this egg, in deep shades of beryl, cornelian and amber. Pincers, of the same foreboding tones, seem to clutch at the shell, trying to rend it open, and forming strange and sinister images against a charred-black background. Random splashes, of sickly bright green and orange, covers the surface of the egg, mingling in some places with gruesome smears of blood-red. Set against this, as if in battle against the darkness, is a bolt of pure energetic blue light, shooting to banish the corruption. The sapphire streaks of light increase in density as they near a large grey object balanced on precarious sandy-coloured ground, its shape similar to that of a dragon, wings outstretched as if permanently ready to fly.

Tiarnath tilts her head curiously at this egg, before piling sand around its curves in a protective embrace. Within moments another contraction racks her belly, and her tail swishes. She crouches down, then straigtens herself, leaving behind yet another damp egg.

From a dark iron-coloured disk at the apex, thick bands, in the same ferrous-grey, run over the curvature of this egg, like a cage of some kind, protecting its contents, or perhaps stopping them from escaping. Through these bars it's hard, but possible to see shapes and images. The most predominate semblance is that of a man cloaked in dangerous, gruesome, ingenious and twisted blues and blacks, with evil seeming to emanate from his demanding soft blue eyes. On the opposite half of the shell a chrysalis sweeps across the camber -- veined with deep jade and ebony, the carapace looks like its almost ready for its inhabitant to emerge -- but surrounding this, almost as if it'd been swallowed, are fleshy-tones sewn together by a psychopath's hand.

With a sigh, Tiarnath settles down beside her newest egg and pushes sand up against it to hold it stable. Then her head rests against the ground beside them as jewel-like eyes keep careful watch. When she moves again, another egg is near the last.

An orchestra of instruments seem to have been brought together to play a magnificent opus, a MasterHarper's greatest symphonic achievement which plays across the surface of this egg. A valved, brass-toned narrow tube that ends in a flared bell gleams in brilliant tones, offset by a long ebony reed pipe and the rounded side of a bleached-white drum. The written melody marches forth in a harmony of notes that winds upward from the instruments, as if the manuscript on which the score had been written had suddenly come alive. Ripples of motion look like they resonate from the staccato beat of the drum, colours blurring and shapes wavering in time as the composition of the egg blends, just like one processional strain following another.

Rnayth rumbles his pleasure as Tiarnath lays a few more eggs. He dips his head to inspect them both, wuffling breathes of air without actually touching them. He is simply Tiarnath's support and guard and mate. He gives her another encouraging croon, as if to say she's doing wel.

K'laarn walks closer to Telinda and leans over to whisper to her, careful not to rile Tiarnath when he does.

Telinda smiles over to K'laarn, shaking her head, "She was going to do that again." Another look to her lifemate and another shake of head. She's been doing that a lot lately.

With the first few eggs safely enveloped in the hot sands of the hatching grounds, Tiarnath chooses to take a few moments to close her eyes and recline near her eggs. However, the telling signs of another egg about to be clutched is obvious as the pale belly of the egg-heavy queen shifts with the spasm of muscles. Wearily she lifts her head, neck curling so that she can watch as the next egg emerges. She shifts away from it, and starts to slowly push the soft ovoid over toward the others.

The bottom half of this egg seems to be coated in a glossy-white, smooth and uniform, like the finest paper the Woodcraft has to offer. Slight grey lines mar the surface, giving the appearance of corners like those on a box, whilst fleshy-pink tones encircle the base, giving the impression of a hand protectively cradling the shell's surface. The top half of the egg, is a mottled pattern of browns -- some milky, others plain, one white, another dark -- and a multitude of shapes -- this one round, that one square, a solitary diamond and a collection of ovals. In the midst of this conglomeration of browns, lemon-yellows, rose-pinks and the odd vanilla-white, adds a hint of variety, but each of these brighter colours always encircles a confection of brown.

K'laarn chuckles drily and says gently, "Rnayth says he wouldn't of let her, much good saying that does him. Tiarnath's strong willed, but who knows, maybe she would of listened." He reaches over and with a soothing hand, starts to stroke the back of Telinda's head. "Relax." He admonishes her.

Telinda shrugs, but leans into that hand. Hard to relax when you've not been sleeping much of late. She nods, though, and yawns.

Tiarnath knows she's doing well, but well, it'd be nicer if they'd just all hurry up and be over and done with. She stretches languidly, taking a break between eggs, but not for long, because some after she settles down, another ripple of motion sets her belly into motion and lo and behold, there's another egg.

The illusion of water ripples across the surface of this egg as wavelets seem to undulate out from the apex in ever widening circles -- the turquoise blues, that cover the shell, appear cool and calm compared to the increasing heat of the sands. A haze of golden yellow caresses its curves, which on closer inspection seems to be a large, multi-lobed leaf that has fallen from a nearby tree in the onset of winter's breath, it's colouration having changed from the brilliant green of summer to the dehydrated red-brown of autumn. The conclusion to this tranquil scene is the embrace of a golden-pink hue that touches the water, decorating it in the shimmering herald of the night, like a non-existent sun just set around its circumference.

Tiarnath spends some moments making sure all the newly clutched eggs have enough of the warm sands around their edges. She nuzzles Rnayth and warbles something to him, before paying attention to laying another egg.

As if carved from a single block of jet, this egg is a study in serenity. The absence, of all light, color and sound from its shell, adds to its beauty and in no way does it distract from the tranquil tones it exudes. Within its depths, as if they were but tiny flaws, are brilliant bursts of gaseous flames that burn like beacons into the furthest reaches of an ebony night. The motes of light are compressed to form a dazzling array of tiny novas and distant suns all brought into the presence of one small, but significant object -- a sky full of stars that twinkle to silent melodies. It's a wonder of being, a miracle of life, a mystery of time and a creation of magnificence.

K'laarn remarks, "Just think, tonight you can sleep in the bed perhaps. Rnayth will keep Tiarnath company, its not like she'll pick the eggs up and -move- them to the beach." He laughs softly and then notes, "I'm going to be taking care to make sure you don't spend all your time out here." He waves a hand briefly toward the sands.

Tiarnath lifts her head toward Rnayth, and warbles another querying tone as if she'd like to know what he thinks of her productivity. She continues to broodingly push sand up over her eggs in the meantime to protect and keep them warm. Abruptly she goes all still, body tensing as muscles flex tight. Her tail flicks to one side as she quickly lowers close to the ground in order to lay her newest addition to the mound of eggs that slowly and surely is growing.

Pale-yellows and watery-blues lend this egg a sense of curiosity and wanderlust, the colours painted into the form of a sad, but lonely woman with many questions on her berry-red lips. Henna-red tresses sweep regally around the porcelain whites of it's circumference, not seeming to know where they belong, until they wrap about a necklace of burnished gold, shaped like a flat five-petalled flower. As if it were a key of some sort, it opens the doors to radiant light, which then shines onto a gold music box laced with rich turquoise and pearls, dancing in silent symphonies. In the brightness of these glorious colours, a streak of a handsome reddish brown beckons, leading a path to elegant deep blues, rich with warmth and fulfilling answers.

Rnayth leans out over Tiarnath as she nuzzles him right before she needs to lay another egg. He rumbles his approval in answer to her warble. His wings flare back, stretching before resting against his sides. His gaze shifts from Tiarnath for a moment toward those people watching. He seems to grow bigger, loomingly so and growls deeply. He's on the guard today.

Telinda smiles, sighing softly, "To sleep in my soft bed again, now there's a thought! A good one too."

Tiarnath rumbles to Rnayth as he looms, and then turns back to her eggs laying. Neck stretches out golden hide, as her belly undulates with waves of motion, all bearing down and pressing out another egg. With a warble she stands to shovel more sand around this newest addition.

Small wooden square-shaped frames, painted in bright primary colours, cover the surface of this egg -- they look like immaculately cleaned windows, each casting their light onto a different scene. Through one windowpane, balls of wool -- in vermilion, cadmium, vindian and cobalt -- are scattered across a floor, a man and a woman are bent down to pick them up; in another, a yellow canine with brown ears wanders up a staircase. The settings diversify further to include a crowd of ovines, living in a small but cozy room with a wedge of pale cream cheese on a table, and some green, leafy plants, which seem to have been nibbled. Yet another window frame depicts a sinister looking, beige canine that is herding cowering ovines, including, strangely enough, one bedecked in a colourfully knitted sweater. The silliest of the lot, however, is an ovine juggling the colorful balls of yarn in a loose semi-circle.

Rnayth dips his head and starts nosing around previously laid eggs, as if searching for a purpose to accomplish. His tail swishes around as he edges closer to Tiarnath in his effort.

Tiarnath will give Rnayth something to think about. Hrmf! Here she is doing all the work and -- ohh... another contraction, another egg. Eyes blink and then she croons something softer to the bronze.

Opalescent droplets of moisture are painted across the shell of this egg, raining over the apex in sheets of lilac, violet, indigo and lavender -- an obscure attempt to wash it clean of other hues that might distract from the mauve threads of precipitation that pour down it's sides. Faint, dark-grey swirls circle in a suggestion of wheels, connected to a black oblong by silver tubing that drives around the circumference -- this is no runner, but maybe it's an alternative form of transport which circumnavigates this egg. Tasseled white fringes fly loose from the shape, the victim of air currents beyond its control, whilst grass-greens are interspersed by the pink and yellow efflorescence of wildflowers.

K'laarn chuckles softly and notes to Telinda, "ITs easier this time, isn't it." He says, "Did you get to watch her clutch them last time? I heard she surprised you on the Beach, I'd suggested to R'lien of posting dragons around as guards."

Rnayth rumbles a satisfactory tone as he flings a bit of sand in Tiarnath's direction, giving her more to play with and pile around her eggs. The egg mound looks like a small nest of lumps that is slowly growing larger.

Telinda chuckles, "Surprised? Sharding dragon was nigh on finished by the time I got there." She rolls her eyes and glances over to the bronze, "Poor Rnayth, I almost feel sorry for him!"

K'laarn grins and remarks "Why? Can't be any worse than last time.. Tiarnath's granddam had him rolling them all over the sand and positioning them in favorable places every other day."

Tiarnath warbles in amusement. Oh hey! That's a new game! She flings some more sand back over to Rnayth and then piles a little more around another egg. Maybe this won't be so bad afterall, but then again, there's that pain and..

This egg is the very image of perfect conformation -- it's sweeping curves somehow seeming prim and proper against the background setting of Southern's sands. The smooth shell seems to indicate a desire for order and proper conduct of its denizen, but flecks of color beckon in abstract patterns for it to neglect these rules, offering it a certain playfulness. Black panels' vane down from the apex in a covering of sorts, though no moisture beads the surface of this egg, and to one side it almost appears as if someone had touched the egg with a sooty-grey hand. Runners, painted in carnival-red and playground-yellow, dance around the circumference, whilst a kite, bedecked with a red-bowed tail, flies up to the highest height of the egg.

Telinda laughs, "Oh, wait, she's not even finished laying them yet. Soon as she's gotten them out of her, well, we're prolly in trouble!"

Tiarnath heaves a heavy sigh. Well, we're getting there. Slow though. She grunts, tail flicking in the sand as she crouches down, undulating belly finally giving way as another egg gets laid.

Lush green fields, the kind skillfully tilled for runner events, twists around the base of this egg, forming a unique counterpart to the brilliant azure of a summer's sky that is pictured above. Chestnut and dappled grey shapes are amongst those that race down the track, the odd sod of grey-brown mud a legacy of their passing hooves. Contrasting sharply with the varied hues and curving over most of this egg, is a woman's figure, dressed in her finest gather outfit. A MasterWeaver has cleverly offset her long, creamy-white dress with pockets in ebony and ivory stripes. A huge bow, in the same achromatic scheme, has been attached to one shoulder and the apparel is completed with an outrageously, oversized hat, cocked jauntily to one side. Carnation-pink and rose-red flowers, that bloom from the millinery's delight, provide the only blush of colour and contribute a charming image to the monochromatic backdrop.

Tiarnath smoothes out some more sand in the hatching grounds, obviously not satisfied with her earlier job. Once that's done, she settles down to lay another egg before piling the now smooth sand around its edges.

Cool air, that might attempt to smother all warmth from a winter moor in an ebony night, wreathes itself around this egg's curves. Ethereal misty-whites wrap themselves around the naked branches that spring from incorporeal tree trunks, and also cloak insubstantial tendrils around the base of the egg -- paling the grass-greens and heather-purples into faint parodies of themselves. Wrapped in the security of this fog, an image attempts to hide itself -- a large form, roughly man-shaped with glowing predator eyes that gleam red out of the obfuscation of the night. The dense mist makes it hard to focus on shell's surface, the images there one moment, but seemingly gone the next in a blur of obscure grey.

K'laarn chuckles and says "It was that bad last time eh?" His arm curls around Telinda comfortingly and draws her near as he leans down slightly to kiss her brow. "Well, look how many there are, so far."

Rnayth rumbles happily as he tries to do his best to help Tiarnath in pushing sand over eggs. He completely burries one, covering it in a mound of sand that totally obscures its shell.

Tiarnath blinks all three eyelids at her last egg. Sharding strange that one. One minute there, next..well, gone. She rumbles at Rnayth. Typical male, do the job yourself or don't get it done properly. Patiently she scrapes off the sand, and then settles down to lay another egg.

Verdant green hills -- that are dotted with small snowy-white and primrose-yellow flowers -- meet a brightly painted azure sky over the surface of this egg. Ethereal clouds caress the firmament with white fingers before descending to snow clad mountains, which eventually form the backdrop to this exquisite alpine scene. A solitary figure stands on the hill, enveloped in this breathtaking beauty -- it seems to be human, from the vague shape, and female, dressed in a long black dress with a white apron. A baleful blood-red patch creeps ominously upwards from the base, forming a possible threat to the idyllic innocence.

Rnayth circles Tiarnath carefully as he issues a dismayed snort. He scootches more sand toward the gold, enveloping one of the older eggs with the sand. Maybe this one will do better with lots of hot sand to cover it. When he's finished, he warbles to Tiarnath. How is this?

Telinda smiles, tilting her head to look up at K'laarn, "Well, there's a fair few, I'll admit that. Tia! Don't be so precocious!" she calls over to her lifemate.

Tiarnath grunts some kind of acknowledgment at Rnayth. It'll do, her tone almost says. Of course, she'll change it all later when he's not looking, but she's not about to tell him that. Another grunt, this time followed by a contraction of her belly leaves another egg on the sands.

As if the bottom half were devoid of moisture and exposed to a constant burning heat, this egg is covered in an infinite number of lines that appear like crevices amid the rich colours of a desert canyon. Tufts of pale withered green are the only sign of life amongst the brown, water-deprived plants that struggle for survival. A brilliantly, clear sapphire blue sky oversees the gorge and the presence of three shapes standing proud against both ravine and firmament, their strong, proud, bold lines oddly masculine. However, this all fades into the background against the vivid play of bright blues, yellows and greens that swirl around the figures. No weaver would have the audacity to use such clashing shades, or the cut of garments displayed here -- provocative outrageousness evidently stitched into every line.

K'laarn remarks lightly, "You been keeping count, Teli? How many is that so far?" He wonders of her as he tries to see how many there are. Rnayth sits back on his haunches once more, hovering over Tiarnath protectively as she shifts around to lay her eggs. His tail twitches with obvious anticipatory excitement.

Only two, well, maybe three people can call Telinda, Teli, and well, K'laarn's one, so she doesn't give him the usual scowl. "Well, over double figures" she offers helpfully as her lifemate lays another.

A misty conglomeration of vapors coalesces to become a morass of thick, jet-tainted clouds - a storm gathering on the horizon of this egg. These blemishes seem to race across a grey sky of little light, pushed onwards by fierce, tumultuous winds and electrified by fierce bolts of lightning that arc from the horizon to the thrashing ebony sea far below. Dipping in and out of the waves that swell heavily with surf, is a fleck of bright-red that might be a ship, though the scale suggests a tiny boat rocked by the fury of nature. Silvery sheets of rain appear to run down the shell's surface, unheeded by the murky air, to create additional torments that beset the traveler attempting passage around the circumference of this egg.

Tiarnath's tail twitches as she ambles through the eggs to find a new spot to lay the one that's currently rippling her belly into frantic motions. Another snort, another grump, a glare at her lifemate for sending her here instead of that nice beach, and another egg is laid.

More than just a study in black and white, this egg is a complex creation, an infinite study in grey. Any addition of color would be a travesty of justice and would spoil the starkly romantic tone that it seems to convey. Here is the pure white of chivalry, the undying boundary of love that lies against the maddened black of dictatorship. Along the gentle curve of this shell, faded memories of a love thought lost are portrayed in soft downy shades, and yet steely-greys -- shapes reminiscent of people caught in turmoil, struggling to not only survive but live and even win against seemingly insurmountable odds -- contrast sharply. Pearly swirls reflect sacrifices inherent in devotion to a cause, whilst a line of platinum beckons love unaware of its masquerade. The most striking mark remains that of a large storm cloud, brewing at the apex, hued with the whispered melody as if time were going by.

Tiarnath has an occasion to relax for a long moment and takes that time to start doing a temporary reorganization of her eggs, as if she were unsatisfied the way they've been currently laid out, even though she did it herself. However, not more than three eggs have been scooted further apart, when she gives a soft little grunt. Her heavy golden body shifts slightly as she manuvers around into what must be the perfect position in order to lay the next egg.

Enveloped in deep sapphire-blues and veined with illuminated tinges of violet, like some balmy desert evening, this egg provides a stunning backdrop for the silvery-white stars that twinkle in its midst. Near the bottom, a curved and domed structure is silhouetted, small dabs of golden-yellow, like firelight, peeking through openings that are reminiscent of windows. Shooting upward, high over the camber of the ovoid, are brightly coloured flares that fan out to hover in shades of cobalt, jade and scarlet, as if they were flowers blooming in the air. Around the circumference of the shell, midway between the air-flowers and the building, drifts a small rectangular shape, ornately woven in a tapestry of colors, with yellow tassels that hang down from all four corners.

K'laarn shifts his stance slightly, looking almost unaffected by the heat that is surely rising from the sands. "Look at Rnayth, he's almost a changed dragon it seems like." Rnayth is currently sitting in front of an egg and affectionately pushing sand up over its shell and nosing it with affectionate brushes of his snout.

Perfect position or not, this next egg is going to be laid pretty close to the last Tiarnath laid. Either from laziness, or just because Tiarnath's belly is rippling with violent movement, is unknown, but within a very short time another egg is laid.

The bottom of this egg is enclosed within the howling winds of a grey funnel as it twists around, gathering speed in a whirl of activity. The ashen-grey insatiable twister has consumed several broad-leafed trees that shed their leaves to the corners of the tornado and what appears to be a building -- red-wooden planks standing out starkly against that of the storm. Overhead a rainbow -- garnet, amber, topaz, jade, aquamarine and amethyst all vying for attention -- arches through a brilliant cerulean sky, and beyond this, over the rainbow, lies a field of lush greens strewn with poppy-red flowers that are dusted with snow-whites. Curving its way through this, and into the distance, is a yellow stone road, which leads directly to the towering outlines of an emerald-toned monolith.

Telinda chuckles, peering around the gold's bulk at the bronze, "Ever heard of the phrase brow beaten?" she asks looking back to the bronzerider.

Tiarnath peers at this egg for some time, eyes following the yellow path that winds itself around the egg. A wing unfurls and almost waves at Rnayth, as if to get his attention. As she moves, for him to get a better look, another egg can be seen.

Nocturnal shades caress the apex of this ovoid, where dark impending sables merge with mysterious notes of charcoal, in a night sky filled to bursting with silvery constellations. Smaller, varied, brightly hued lights chase each other around a wide, jet-black band that curves around the circumference -- an unidentified object, full of coruscating lights of cerise, cobalt and luminous white. Structures built into the band are reminiscent of several buildings of varying heights and shapes, all gathered in close proximity to one another. A brilliant array of lights shine down towards the base of this egg, bathing a road, that is outlined in pinpricks of white like a guiding path, in soft pinks. Behind this, in a backdrop to the whole event, is a tower of rock that rises in sheer edges toward a flat top high in the sky, the sides pocketed with scars but a clear signal to those that know.

K'laarn snorts at Telinda, "No, he's hardly that, I just think he's got a maternal streak somewhere deep within that only comes out when he's got a reason to let it show." He helpfully clarifies.

Rnayth warbles over at Tiarnath, his attention distracted by her, and her show of a brand new egg. He croons in her direction, slowly lumbering to his feet and shuffling close to the gold queen in order to snuffle at her neck lightly in encouragement.

Telinda giggles at K'laarn, "Yeah right" she murmers, and turns back to watching her lifemate.

Tiarnath needs encouragement, definitely. She sighs, exhaling deeply and nuzzling the bronze back for a moment, before trying to find another clear spot to lay another. Finding it, she settles for some moments, letting her body do the work. As she stands and moves to shove sand against it's curves, it's colours become clear.

The pale ochre of a sun rising over dry grass seems to place the setting for this egg, the stalks almost swaying in a breeze that is absent from its surroundings. Amethyst-golds, reminiscent of a sun setting over the tundra, sweep around the other half of the shell, skillfully blending night and day into one unique scene. Towards the widest part of the egg, honey-blondes contrast with both the copper tones of polished brass, and the red-gold of a chestnut runner, dappled in summer's embrace. Set against this background, a grey twist entwines itself around the circumference, the edges blurred as if it were fleet of foot. Indeed, the shape itself is vaguely canine, although much heavier, with a large dark brush for a tail.

Telinda peers over at the lastest egg. "Wierd shadings on that one" she remarks to K'laarn, "Almost dull in this light."

K'laarn nods his head as he glances over thoughtfully. "But its interesting, nonetheless."

Shifting her huge bulk around the sands, Tiarnath warbles something to her lifemate, sending Telinda into fits of laughter, before the gold's belly contracts in sharp movements once more, and another egg is laid.

Golden yellow leaves drift across the surface of this egg in a delicate whirlwind, carrying with them other leaves of burnished crimson, coppery brown and verdant green. Twisting upwards towards the apex, in a zephyr of swiftly shifting color, invisible fingers suspend the foliage in a clear blue sky, the colour contrasting sharply with the black whisper of a shadow cavorting in the wind. On closer inspection, the looming presence is nothing but a maiden's raven hair, tresses flying loose at the mercy of the elements. A pool of translucent, moss-bedded water reflects the portrayed images, and into this hang the branches of an old willow tree -- worn and twisted, with grey fingers shaped like those of a crone -- she still manages to maintain a heavy mantle of silvered green. Cobalt ripples across the pond's surface, caressing the tree's roots and distorting the image, diffusing the soft light of an unseen sun.

Almost as this is getting easier, or maybe it's just those muscles are so tired they're just not moving the same, Tiarnath lays another egg quickly after the last, moving away from it only to push sands up the sides. She grunts at Rnayth, here, you caused this, come do some of the work!

At the base of this egg, as if it were nestled in a protected cove, shimmering sapphire waters wash over a beach of glittering sand that holds the barest hint of colour. Frond-shaped markings, that dip probing fingers towards the waterline, have been dusted with golden motes of light, shining in almost impossible luminescence. In the curved arch of the apex, a starry effulgence promises a night of infinite potentials as gradually they gather into a conflagration of light -- a patterned burst of red and gold that might herald the advent of dawn. The tendrils of this masterpiece cautiously extend over the remaining circumference of the egg and, as they diffuse and drift apart, they create a field dotted with distant pinpricks of light that twinkle amongst the other magnanimous colours. Answers hide themselves within the play of shade and brilliance, but nonetheless provide an idyllic cast to the water's serenity.

Rnayth hurries to help, his sleek, small bronze bulk shifting slightly as he nuzzles sand with snout and foreclaws up toward some of the newer Eggs to enable Tiarnath to concentrate more on laying them. He helps her bathe them in a fine sheen of hot sand. Once he's finished covering at least one egg, he tosses his head and gives a snort. How's this?

K'laarn turns his head slightly and asks, glancing at Telinda where she's leaning against him. "What was so funny?" He wonders of her.

Tiarnath warbles in a -- not bad, you need practise -- sort of tone, and leaves him to it. Watching carefully though, no mistakes allowed here. She grunts again at the ripple of motion down her long length -- won't this be over ..soon?! Another grunt, and she crouches, the leaves the covering of the egg to Rnayth, eyes watching all the time.

Telinda grins, "She was remarking I should try it!"

Rugged terrain is the central theme to this egg, a small mountain ridge running the entire circumference, seemingly forming a never-ending barrier between one half and the other, and indeed it seems as if these two are separate for a reason. One is the bright blue of a Southern mid-summer sky -- the firmament clear of clouds and endless in its expanse -- whilst the second half looks almost like sand -- the grains appearing from underneath the delicate shades of pale yellow that gradually disappear into the midst of the hatching sands. In the heart of these two, the earthy-coloured promontory is variegated with dark lines, giving the illusion of height and depth, and occasionally the mix of all three main shades forms a pleasant partnership of grassy-greens that cling for survival in amongst the barren-land.

With a huge sigh, Tiarnath considers her eggs again. Fussing over them here and there, scooping the hot sands over their edges, she warbles proudly, standing back to assess the work so far. Not bad, not bad at all. She seems to relax for awhile, taking a breather, before the whole process starts again and she lays another.

Shafts of sunlight filter through the shadows of breaking waves that crash silently overhead, illuminating the briny expanse of crystal blue water that seems to immerse this egg. The blue is almost translucent, like the clear blue of the most majestic of seas, and filigreed with spinner-webs of gold radiant light that diffuse downward. There is a dark presence at the base of the egg -- a stain of wood-brown seems to tug at the eye as if it were heavy -- the shape itself seems carved and could be an instrument, though it's difficult to tell. Rising from the base, and attached to the wooden-shape, is a line of rope, its serpentine length entwined around a figure dressed in skirts that billow up around her -- gradually she is pulled away from the sun and from life, the shape clear in the otherwise tranquil sea.

Tiarnath seems rather pleased at that last egg, and bugles at it's arrival. Wings unfurl, then slowly furl in a dazzle of champagne diffused light. As the sparkling light detracts from her task and instead sets her hide afire with molten hues, the lastest egg is almost lost in the illumination, but becomes visible as the gold steps back to scoop sand over it.

Deep, dark, cold blue, like that of an ocean two thousand feet down, washes over the camber of this egg bathing it in rich evocative colours. A black metallic-looking structure -- complete with pipes, tubes, ladders and platforms -- is offset against this infinite blue, with tiny bubbles that rise upwards, from the various wrought shapes, in a steady effervescent stream. Deeper jet-black shadows are cast amongst bright lights, which banish the unfathomable blue. Eventually though, even the lights succumb to shadow, fading first to azure, then sapphire, and ultimately to ebony. The silhouetted shapes seem to be settled on a rocky shelf that overlooks a deep underwater trench, though the abyss doesn't contain the same blackness as above. Instead it is filled with a rich pink light that increases steadily in intensity, as if the sun rises from below in some unworldly intelligence.

Rnayth works busily on completing all the hard work Tiarnath has done here. He covers her newer eggs, making sure they're completely covered. He continues to thrum, the sound of a happy, sedate and pleased dragon. He continues to work, foreclaws scuffling at sand.

Rnayth leans back, satisfied gaze searching over the mounded lumps of sand. He turns his head and stretches toward Tiarnath, giving her an adoring croon. Just look at everything she's done.

Telinda takes a few steps closer to Tiarnath and strokes her heaving side in the few moments that comes between the laying of one egg and the next. "You're doing such a good job Tiarnath.." She begins, but then abruptly steps back, possibly at some inner warning from her queen as Tiarnath's middle fluxes with the strain of another egg to be laid.

Pictured in monotone this egg holds many elements, all clamoring for attention amidst the colorless sweeps of the camber. A stone-grey road traverses the circumference, a trip of unending sorrow that shows no hope or end in sight. Shadows of what could once have been people walk along the road, heads bowed in ashen despondency, and standing near them, regimental blacks in an ominous cloud of dictatorial might. Barely visible against the rising oppression is a flash of crimson, the scarlet shade muted somewhat by despotic greys, and though it looks more like a child's coat, a sense of mourning, like an elegy, is purveyed by its presence.

Tiarnath croons back to the bronze a low thrumm in her throat. Well, she can't not acknowledge Rnayth's part in this either. Eyes whirl steadily. Then after a few moments, she arches back, the movements of her belly clearly visible in the dying light. Tail flicks, as she settles back down, and she grunts as yet another egg follows the first.

A multitude of grey predominate the surface of this egg -- from lead to pewter, from ash to charcoal -- they envelop this oddly shaped carapace. Unlike its counterparts this is no ovoid, instead it's almost a perfect sphere. A circle of glossy dark-grey, which is nearly black in colour, appears like an indentation in the curvature of the egg and contrasts sharply with its matte finish. An inky-dark chasm runs the entire circumference of the egg, whilst ebony speckles have been cast randomly over its surface lending the warped ovoid a feeling of incompleteness -- as if a time scale had been rushed and it remained unfinished. Subtle shadings over the rest of its shell give the semblance of protuberances and bulges that give it an oddly sinister look.

Tiarnath shoves her muzzle through the warm sand, piling up a generous amount of sand against the last egg. A questioning warble goes to Rnayth -- a sort of, how you doing over there? A she moves, there's another egg left in her wake, visible now that the gold isn't hiding it.

On a cerulean sea of glass, the bow of a ship circumnavigates this egg, pictured against the amethyst-rose of a spring sunset. Titanic in proportion, and elegant in her fresh livery of black, gold and white, the paint looks so vibrant it may just have dried. Behind silver railings, which wrap around the bowsprit, are two figures -- one clothed in blue velvet, the other in basic brown - entwined lovers springing from different worlds. Superimposed below the hull is a reflection, a mirror image of the ship above, her decks deserted though, as if she were in some watery grave. Indeed, her livery is the icy-blue and abyssal-black of the deep ocean, but some parody of life returns as a shaft of light touches her proud shape to depict rusticles that ubiquitously coat her hull and railings. The two images are joined by a pendant, a large blue diamond on a chain of brilliant stars, which falls from the cruising ship to the heart of the ocean.

Rnayth rumbles back, a deep tone to answer the Queens. He continues to help pile around more hot sand against the eggs which don't have a very good covering.

K'laarn watches Telinda with a slow, affectionate smile before he calls over to her, "Surprised you with that one, did she?" He glances around and finds his own Lifemate who seems to be sitting up once more to loom out over the audiance in protection of precious eggs.

Covering the last egg with sand, Tiarnath considers things for a while, whuffling her rider as she stands close by. Telinda smiles, hand scritching the gold's eyeridges, "Not long left dear. You're doing a great job and they're so _pretty_!" Telinda is, as ever, biased, but who cares. The gold croons under the touch before moving away to lay another egg, the lumps in her belly less obvious now that the majority of her eggs are on the sands.

Sanguine weeps over the camber of this egg to stain a once vibrant grassy-green knoll, recently churned by runner hooves into a quagmire of greyish-brown mud. Thousands of men, depicted in vague flesh-tones, stand side by side -- the grey of gleaming swords, the mottled tones of animal hide and spirals of woad blue -- forming a solid wall of weaponry in the face of an approaching enemy. Another more regimental band faces the former -- scarlet-reds and golds amongst the grey of steel -- a truly well armored fighting force that marches forth across the circumference of the egg to face the pitiful opposition. Between them is the green of a yet untouched field, the cross hilt of a single sword standing proud amidst such hostility.

Rnayth turns his head to wuffle at the soft hide of Tiarnath's belly, as if he too noticed that she was looking alot more sleek than before. A deep thrum accompanies the gentle touch before he glances over at her newest egg.

Telinda chuckles at K'laarn, "Somewhat!" she remarks, eyes drifting over the growing clutch, "Looking good though."

Tiarnath responds back to Rnayth with a tired croon and moves only a short distance to lay the next egg. Tired, yes, exhausted too, she lets her muscles push out the last few eggs, letting Rnayth do the majority of work with the sand.

Many illusions vie for attention over the surface of this egg. One mirage in particular coalesces to the fore -- a swirling crown of ebony, surging in gentle waves, not unlike hair dancing on playful zephyrs. These waves curl around and frame an oval of alabaster, nearly pure white in colour and, as this particular image concentrates, you notice that it appears to be the visage of a lovely lady -- stately in appearance, yet defiant in manner. A whirling cascade of scarlet velvet wraps itself about the base of this egg -- the many hues seeming, as does the ebony above, to be swept by the wind, into undulating waves of fire sweeping across a savanna. The aloofness of this egg is accentuated by the fact that it almost rests alone, putting on supercilious airs.

Rnayth carefully layers a mound of sand over the newest egg, paying close attention to it after removing his attention from the others in the galleries.

Watching the bronze for some moments, and gathering the last of her energy, Tiarnath casts her glance over the eggs. A low rumble of pride settles in her chest, sounding out and echoing somewhat in the cavern. With the last vestiges of her strength, she ambles tiredly over to a space amongst the others, and with a grunt, lays one more egg.

Overshadowing the entire top third of this egg is a wide disk, wreathed in grey and cloaked in black, with no illumination visible from its outer curves as it looms over the shell surface. From underneath the disk, an alien blue light of intense, almost artificial, proportions seems to gather itself before lancing a direct bolt to the highest reaches of a building. Shimmering light shatters through a forest of glass that rises up from below, as the structure explodes in a detonation of epic magnitude. The force bends shiny objects, that appear almost metallic, and then blasts outwards, burning and consuming everything in its path to leave nothing but a trail of destruction.

Rnayth hurries over, bronze body gleaming as he settles down beside the newest egg and begins to push sand up against its sides. He warbles at the egg in an almost conversational manner before he shifts back from a now fully covered egg.

Tiarnath lowers herself down to the sands and warbles a thank you at Rnayth, her golden hide pale and trembling with exhaustion.

K'laarn walks over to Telinda and asks her, "So thats it?" He glances over the eggs, 30 odd or so, "They flew well." He says proudly.

Telinda grins and nods, slipping her arm around K'laarn's waist, "Indeed. No gold though." She shrugs, "Not that we really need another, but well" she glances at K'laarn, "you know."

K'laarn nods at Telinda and smiles at her as he smooths her hair. "Well, she's a Junior and there's just no need for one more than likely. We've strong golds here who don't show any sign of going anywhere."

Telinda grins and nods, "True enough" she says, breaking off the sentence to yawn, "Shards, I think I'm exhausted too, Tia!"

K'laarn nods and says lightly, "Do you want to stay out here with Tia, or do you want to get some rest, or something to drink? I'm sure they've set off some minor celebration in the Hall by now."

Telinda ponders the question for a moment, head leaning to rest on K'laarn's chest, "I think some rest, and perhaps a private celebration? Just the two of us?" she asks, looking up at the bronzerider.

Tiarnath warbles some to Rnayth, settling down in the sands near her eggs, her tail snaked around her flanks, and wings furled tightly. Eyelids blink, and one set closes -- something less to drain what little energy she has. Tired. Sleep, then food.

Tiarnath> Rnayth senses that Tiarnath's mindvoice sounds extremely tired, << Will you guard? I need to sleep a little >>

Rnayth hovers near Tiarnath and their collected eggs in a posture f noble intensity. He watches everyone and everything around, keeping a careful watch against outsiders or intruders.

Dragon> Rnayth bespoke Tiarnath with << I will watch and noone will come. >> He assures her << You sleep, you have worked hard. >>

K'laarn glances at Telinda and then smiles ever so slowly, though the expression lingers, "Now that," He says feelingly, "Sounds like the best idea I've heard all day. I've put aside a nice skin of wine for us both," He adds, more softly.

Tiarnath sighs, a long drawn out sigh of total exhaustion. A quick glance in Rnayth's direction, then she seems to curl up tighter and drift into sleep.

Telinda chuckles, "Ah, now why did I expect that?" she remarks, yawning once more, "I hope its some of that nice white or perhaps that really full bodied red."

K'laarn remarks easily, "Well now, it'd be the really full-bodied red I have my dear. The white," He adds, "Is for when these babies HAtch."

Telinda grins, "Ah, well, then, we'd better not spoil it and have it now." A pause, and then, "Well, what are we waiting for? These two" she hooks a thumb back at Tiarnath and Rnayth, "look quite capable of being here on their own without getting into trouble."

K'laarn nods and says "So lets go." He takes Telinda's hand in one of his, and starts to draw her from the sands with a teasing smile. "I'll carry you if you don't walk fast enough."

Telinda giggles, "I think I have _that_ much energy to walk" she retorts, squeezing the hand that's captured hers.