11-19-03

Characters involved:
Swiftsand
Lain
Furnier
Rahier

Salamandastron: Festival Hall
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Immediately drawing your attention as you enter the ballroom is the sheer size. Designed to house all the hares of the mountain for one mass gathering makes this room look rather colossal compared to the majority of rooms around the mountain. Hung on the ceiling are beautiful chandeliers of polished glass, each one holds twelve candles, gathering small amounts of dust for lack of use. Along the stone walls are simple, colourful, and skillfully made tapestries, each kept spotlessly clean. All the works display colourful depictions of festivals and feasts. As your eyes wander down the center of the room, they come upon a wide floor, expertly sanded down to a level surface for dancing and socializing. Down the length of the walls are heavy oak tables, each holds a small brazier for candles and a small box of flint and steel at the base of the holder. Every few tables there are a couple chairs, ordinary ones like every other in the mountain.
Lastly, in the far end of the room there stands a large raise platform used as a stage. Various chairs and the like sit around and on it, with strange looking constructions that look like some kind of holders. A general emptiness fills the entire room, as if it hasn't been used for some time...
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Visible Exits:
[Back] to First Level Intersection

Swiftsand peers into the large chamber as she pulls open one of the heavy
doors. Her paws are damp from a recent scrubbing, though her footpaws are
dry and fall upon the ballroom floor softly. She allows the door to close
and looks around in wonder. A faint, reminiscent smile can just be made out
in the region of her mouth. The hare walks along the wall of tapestries,
eying the handiwork with pleasure. One of the claws of her right footpaw
clicks on the dance floor, and she stops at the noise to look down.
Shrugging, she continues moving along, nodding in appreciation.

Looking up as a the familiar soft squeak of the hinges on the heavy doors is
heard through her now very lightly bandaged ears, Lain peers around the
curtain to see who it is. Oh...the major. Slowly rising to her feet with the
help of her staff, she moves aside the curtain with a wave of her arm,
drawing them open and moving out in front, frowning a bit as she nears the
step to get off the platform. Sitting down on the edge and slowly lowering
herself, she retrieves her staff and then straightens, giving a meek smile
to Swiftsand and a meager wave.

Swiftsand starts as Lain is revealed and moves towards the other hare. She
begins to step closer to help but stays put when Lain proves herself capable
of lowering herself. The major answers the wave with one of her own and
broadens her smile. She then stands awkwardly, trying to determine some
topic of conversation Lain can respond to. Peering about the large room,
she halts her roving eyes on one of the tapestries. Turning back to Lain,
she waves towards the artwork and asks, "D'you like tha' one, Lain? It's
m'favorite personally. Y'can eat th'bally strawberries off th'bushes, ah
think- so scrumptious an' real lookin'."

Letting out a soft breath in the form of a chuckle, Lain follows Swiftsand's
gesture, gazing at the tapestry and smiling. Nodding a bit as she moves
towards the major, she tilts her head at the tapestry a bit and then stops
at a conveniently placed table nearby. Setting a fresh sheet of parchment
out on the table and taking her trusty charcoal pencil from her light belt
and writes out a message for Swiftsand. "I can reply to you this way, if it
makes it easier to have a conversation." Of course, there wouldn't be a
conversation without the parchment.

Swiftsand steps over to the table and scans the message. She continues to
look awkward and abashed, but nods. "Thah err, t'would be easier ah
s'pose." Rubbing the back of one paw with the other, she glances back at the
tapestry and mutters something to herself. It sounds suspiciously like,
"could make some pie tomorrah". Suddenly englightened, she rolls onto the
balls of her footpaws and looks at Lain, ignoring the scratching noise the
movement makes. "How was y'day?"

Nodding in reply to the major's remark, Lain turns to her parchment to write
her reply to Swiftsand's question, a soft scratching noise just audible.
Without much hesitation, she straightens, leaving a message clearly written.
"It was alright, nothing too eventful. And yours?"

Swiftsand scratches her head. "Lessee...m'mornin' was a bit stressed, wot
wi' tryin' t'give m'likkle tyke a bath. An' havin' t'get t'duty at th'same
time. 'e ought to learn a dirty 'are's no good, specially when 'e won't
wash 'is ears. Harumph! Th'afternoon ah trained a bit, practicin' wi'
th'blades an' th'like. Dinner was right scrumptious, y'know, but then
th'dibbun wouldn't get t'bed. So energetic, th'young. Ah well, here ah am,
blatherin'. Ah must be talkin' y'poor ears off. Ah they feelin' improved
at all?" she adds anxiously, rising on her footpaws with anxiety. She looks
around idly, awaiting a response.

Heeeeeeere's Furni! And he's not on crutches! Now he walks only aided by a
stick. The
squirrel looks far from happy, though. But hey...it's Furni. ;p

Glancing over her shoulder as the squirrel enters, Lain hides her slight
annoyance to the fact that the moment she finds a quiet place, it's always
intruded, and the dorm is just...boring. "They're alright. Slowly healing as
ears go, but healing nonetheless. They were in tatters about a month ago or
so," she writes, though her sense of time must be someone muddled seeing as
she was in a coma for a few days and all. Plus no sense of time in Corsair
chambers, as Furnier probably knows.

Swiftsand bobs her head up and down. "Glad t'here it, and mah sympathies."
She frowns for a moment, and her eyes become sad and distant. She shakes
herself abruptly and looks over at the entering squirrel. Noting his
evident expression, she resumes frowning, but ventures a, "Hallo thah, sah."
Having greeted him, she resumes brooding over death and destruction. She
grips the table and sighs inwardly, looking dazed.

Furnier raises his unstaffholding paw in a return wave to Swifty, inspecting
everybeast in the hall. Uh-oh, it's that creepy hare from the infirmary! XD
He doesn't blame her, though, not after being through a similar
corsair-capture thing. He goes to sit down nearby, wanting to be alone with
his thoughts, and yet not wanting to be on his own anymore. (But where on
Earth is Ayanna? XP)

Swiftsand reaches back to scratch an ear, pondering what topic to propose.
"Er so, umm, yes- 'ow're you, sah?" she begins awkwardly, eying the pensive
squirrel. Thankfully she is saved from her confusion by a revelation. "Oh!
Lookit th'time- must be t'bed, early watch tommorrah!" She inches away
from Lain, nodding respectfully to her. Finally she twists on her heel and
walks smartly towards the room's entrance, stopping only to nod briefly to
Furnier. At the door she adjusts her weapon and pulls, gritting her teeth
at her aching arm muscles. Finally she is gone, taking her chatter and
worries with her.

Nodding back to Swiftsand with a slight smile, Lain watches the major leave,
turning and leaning against the table and giving a soft sigh. Taking a
moment to scan the room of its new occupants, the haremaid bites her lip a
little, sliding the parchment off the table and then storing it back into
her belt for future use. Can't be wasteful now.

Furnier simply nods back to the leaving Swifty...and carries on looking
troubled.

Rahier enters some time after the major's departure. It's just the usual
healer.. or is it? ;p Differing in appearance from when he's last spoken to
most anyone, Rahier is now almost completely white, but for a few stubborn
patches of the old grey-blue. But, back to the festival hall- why's he here?
Who knows. Maybe he's just stalking Furnier. ;P He pauses, noting the
cavernous room's two occupants, blinking, as he looks between them. "'Ello."
More blinking. This is quite the odd place. "...Anythin' goin' on?"

Not that she can really reply to Rahier's question, Lain shakes her head and
hoists herself up onto the table, letting her legs dangle above the floor.
Looking idly about at the tapestries draping the walls around her, she
sighs, turning a charcoal pencil in her paw without much enthusiasm. Think
Strawberry fizz with cream on top and a double dash of pepper and a dash of
salt...

Mr. Rahier, welcome to the Ex-Prisoners Club. Furni looks up, appearing
quite weary. Just as silent as Lain, he shrugs his shoulders in reply to his
question, and rests his chin in his paw, and the elbow of that arm on the
table he's sat at. Proper ray of sunshine. o.0

"Well. Don't answer me all at once." Rahier says, with a chuckle. Despite
the various shrugs. And the silent Lain. ;p The healer strolls towards the
table, paws returning casually to his pockets. "..Lively conversation, eh?"
The walking comes to a stop by the table, and he looks to Furnier,
commenting on the squirrel's downcast expression with a dim smile. "What's
up with you?"

Furnier doesn't even seem to want to joke about Rah's whiteyness. He just
sighs and shrugs again. "...I'm useless." hehe. o_O

Noting Rahier's unusual white-coloured-ness, Lain tilts her head at the
healer's current condition, slipping off the table carefully, making sure
that she doesn't hit the ground too hard for her ankles to work properly and
taking up her staff. Moving over just a little bit, a slight smile on her
lips at the humour of the moment, she leans against another table closer to
the other two creatures.

Whitey white white! Rahier snorts, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Pfft,
useless? Y'get out of the infirmary for a few days, an' y'get like this?"
The healer cackles. "Ahh.. I see. Maybe that's why you're in there so much."
Grinning, he glances at the approaching Lain, giving a small wave with one
of his white paws. ;p

Furnier shakes his head, his expression totally serious and unhumourous (?).
"No, I mean...I gave up wantin' t'be a warrior, right? Well...I've thought
of loads of other stuff...an' nothin' I can think of really works f'me..."

Waving in reply to Rahier's gesture, Lain peers at Furnier silently, a
glimmer of curiousity arousing in her eyes at the squirrel. Strange one,
that Furnier. Shrugging a bit, she spins her staff between her paws,
glancing at the healer every once and again. Well, for once, Lain has to
agree: Furnier's not the only one who feels oneself is useless.
"Loads of other stuff?" Rahier intones, leaning against the table. "Like
what? Surely, y'got -somethin'- else y'wanna do. I mean.." The hare glances
upwards, obviously thinking. "There's like.." More thinking. Giving up on
that, his gaze falls. "...Well, like... a ton o' jobs 'round 'ere that one
could do. But y'on th'mend, still. Give it time, eh?" Another grin. Rahier's
apparently in a good mood, anyway. ;p

Furnier can do nothing except shake his head. "Really, I've thought of
everythin'. I just...can't see m'self bein' anythin' except a fighter.
Honestly, I can't." he glances back as Lain approaches. Well, glad you two
are happy. XP "Just...With bein' a warrior out of the question, all I can do
now, is just...sit an' do nothin."

Raising an eyebrow at Furnier's last statement, Lain smiles quietly to
herself, quite amazed personally that Furnier is voice exactly what she's
been thinking of lately. Well, not really. She's been thinking about being a
good daughter for Triss, what she's going to do when she gets better, what
she'll do in the meantime, and how the heck she's supposed to do healer
duties when most of them require a voice. Yes, still broken up about that.
Except she doesn't show it anymore -- hasn't accepted it, of course -- and
steels herself against the thought. It is quite unavoidable; speaking is the
general trend hereabouts.

Rahier shrugs. "Eh, don't let it get t'you. You've only jus' now decided on
a major change in, ah, professions, even if y'had one in mind, it wouldn't
happen overnight." Skirting the issue in his jovial mood, as always. The
healer clears his throat, looking slightly off to the side. "You'll settle
on somethin', I'm sure.." Lain isn't getting much attention. Hehe. ;p

Furnier just keeps on shaking that squirrelly head of his. "I've really,
honestly thought of everythin'. Even bein' a slave is..." nope. Don't even
try to go there, else you might get in denial. Of getting out of slavery.
o.0

Glancing around the room and shrugging, Lain pushes off the table, grabbing
her staff before she leans too far forward and limps towards the exit. Not
that she's put off by Rahier's main attention on Furnier, just that she's
better to be off someplace else. Or so her brain tells her. Lifting a paw in
a sort of farewall wave, she struggles with the door, rolls her eyes and
makes her way towards the platform, leaving out an second exit with a less
hefty door that can be much more manageable.

Rahier shrugs, again. Ever the helpful hare. "Maybe y'should go by the
leader's office, or somethin', an' talk t'them? They do th' whole 'handing
out jobs' thing for a livin'." Smirk. "Though I should be wanderin' off.
Talk t'y'later." With a backwards wave, he too, exits.