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The Great Hall
Elaborate paintings and elegant tapestries hang on the walls of the vaulted hall, scenes of Weyr life both old and new depicted on them. Sturdy chairs, benches and well built tables are set all over the huge room, for the comfort and enjoyment of the spectacular view. Large window with ornately carved lintels are carved into the walls, protective shutters flanking each one, able to be close to protect from the chill of the night or the blustering of storms. When open, they allow any breeze, however slight, to blow into the Hall, cooling it off during the heat of the mid day.
Centered along each wall, sets of double doors are inset into the walls, each ornately carved and polished to a deep shine, usually propped open to allow for better air circulation. The hall is always busy, no matter the time or heat of day, as weyrfolk and riders alike come and go to partake of refreshments and meals or simply to gather and talk on any number of topics.
You see Shiny Brass Watermelon Trophy, Wineskin, Bebe, Persephone, Isa, Vincent, and Lois here.
Jyfer is here.
Obvious exits:
Entry Hall Central Hallway North Corridor South Corridor

Peydra
A solidly muscular build cinches Peydra's steady androgyny: broad shoulders support a heavy frame with little fat. At five foot, nine inches, she stands well above average for a woman, her mass imposingly laid out. Thick arms and legs have the bulk of muscle considered appealing on a man, but less attractive without the Y chromosome. Her dirty blond hair is slowly growing, a riot of curls held back and tamed via a visible clutter of hairpins. Still not quite long enough to reach the collar of her shirt in the back, it is sufficient to obscure the brownrider's vision. A few freckles spatter her nose, and vivid blue eyes reflect light and moods with equal ease.
Silver and purple twine on Peydra's shoulder; the mating of threads into a declaration of position: Wingrider of Xanadu Weyr. The strand of brown that laces through the ensemble marks her lifemate's color.
A light tunic of tan cotton has been loosely belted around Peydra's waist, just tight enough to avoid obstruction without granting her much shape or cutting off the brush of air against the skin underneath. Her pants are long but loose and thin. Her thick boots are the only rebellion she makes against the heat; supremely practical in their durability.
Peydra looks to be in her late teens.

Jyfer
Jyfer is approximately 5'5. She has brown shoulder length hair with blonde and red highlights from the Southern sun. She has grey-blue eyes that are the color of the sky before it snows. She has a dark tan showing she has been living South for quite sometime now. She has a dimple that shows on her cheek when she gives her common smirk. She speaks with an accent that many who don't know better would place her from Fort, but it has a slight drawl in it which would account for living in the borders of Fort's neighbor Ruatha. She has an average build which shows she eats well, but leads an active lifestyle.
Jyfer is wearing a faded shoulder knot of violet and silver that shows she is a Xanadu Weyr Resident.
Jyfer is wearing a grey tunic that goes to her mid-thigh. The tunic is of a soft silk like material that accents the soft greyness of her eyes. It is slightly baggy but doesnt do much to hide Jyfer's more female features. It has an intricate design of blue thread around the neck line in the shape of dragons, and thicker cloth at the shoulders for whenever Breeze or Mischief decides to land on her. Jyfer is wearing a blue leather belt around her waist and attached to the belt is her dagger and a small grey pouch. She is also wearing soft baggy blue wherhide pants that go down to her ankles, and blue wherhide boots under the pants that go to midcalf.
Jyfer looks to be in her early twenties.

Peydra is sitting over by the hearth, her feet propped on a low stool ahead of her. Her boots are beside the stool, obviously drenched. The rider's hair is damp, but her clothing is dry. On one knee rests an open logbook, and she holds a pen in her right hand. The inkjar is open beside her, but no trace of it stains the tip of the pen.

Jyfer comes out of the kitchen, rag and bucket of water in hand. She heads for a far table, putting down the items in her hands to fill them with plates and cups from the table. She carries them back to the kitchen, then returns to start washing the table.

The nib of Peydra's pen traces an invisible line along the hide of the book in her lap, underscoring some entry in her mind, if not in the actual representation. She reaches to claim the glass of juice of the table near her, taking a small sip before returning it to its place.

M'rika steps in lightly and, almost, bouncily in from the entry hall.

M'rika
A thin young woman with long, red-gold hair which is pulled back from her face in a coppery braid that hangs to her waist. Her skin has been tanned by hours in the sun... Two soft, brown eyes peer out at the world from above a faintly freckled nose and a shy, but certain, smile. A faint blush is dusted along her cheeks.
She moves gracefully, and without hesitation, although her eyes rarely stay fixed on one thing for long - she is still a little shy.
A deep green, sleeveless tunic drapes across her figure, hanging loosely from her narrow shoulders. Brown, lightweight pants that match her beloved lifemate swish a little as she trundles from place to place. The only thing left from her days before Impression are her worn and scuffed boots, which she refuses to part with for any reason.
M'rika looks to be in her early forties.

M'rika strides in, looking around until she spots a small green (and hiding) lizard, "Ok, Pers...." She takes a few strides toward the lizard, who cheeps apologetically.

Swish, swoosh, goes the rag along the table, Jyfe humming in time with the sound she makes. She makes quick work of the table, then moves to the next. She puts her rag in the bucket, and clears the plates and glasses, having to make 2 trips this time. Once she returns she squeezes the water from her rag letting it drip into the bucket, before making the swooshing sound as she washes the table.

M'rika picks up Persephone.

Peydra glances up at the voice, her gaze brushing only lightly across Jyfer before falling on the older rider. "M'rika," she greets, welcoming the opportunity to pull away from her book for a moment. "How's Audath?"

After scooping up the guilty green, Miri looks about the hall, "Peydra! Well met. Audath is well, if fat from too many wherries..." She chuckles as her lifemate issues a retort in her mind, "And Kinzhalth? I see he's gotten BIG..." She smiles at Jyfer, then looks back to the brownrider.

Peydra offers a brief grin. "Oh, they always do," she agrees cheerfully enough. "He's doing well -- and hardly fat himself. By Faranth, that brown would never eat if I didn't remind him every five minutes." Her tone is tolerant, though.

Jyfer stops as she works, finding a particulary hard spot to clean. She scrubs it with vigour, then goes about finishing this table. The next table though brings her one away from the riders. No plates being on the table she starts washing it immediately, still humming in tune with her swooshes.

M'rika grins, absently stroking th egreen on her shoulder, who preens in response. "Well, I think is because Audath is getting lazy in his old age..." She winks, teasing her lifemate too much fun to pass up. "What have you been up to? I feel like I hardly see anyone around here; I must be holing up in my Weyr too much."

Peydra snorts a short laugh. "You must be holed up, if you've not heard anything about me lately. You want the rumor version, or the actual? The rumors are much more entertaining." She marks her place in her book and places it on the table beside her.

Jyfer pauses as she finishes her table, glancing at the next to be washed. The one with Peydra. Joy. She glances around and sighs, its her own fault she is in this position. She moves to the table asking "Is there anything I can clear for you or get you brownriders?"

Rubbing her hands in glee, Miri slides into a chair, "Ooh, ooh, the rumors please." She smiles at Jyfer, "No, but thank you for asking." She notes that Persephone gives Jyfer a friendly chirrup and raises an eyebrow before turning back to Peydra, "Do tell!"

Peydra shakes her head slightly to Jyfer before returning her attention to M'rika. "Well," she begins. "According to rumor I've killed and buried the bodies of half a dozen nameless Weyrfolk. I've been promoted for it. I'm in love with that idiot of a new steward we have, but I'm sleeping with Weyrwoman Elisa. The reason for this, of course, is that I'm preparing to murder S'tan, and want the Weyrwoman to be in love with me so that when he dies, Kin will win the next leadership flight and I can take over as Weyrleader."

Gypsie walks from the central hall.

Gypsie
Obsidian is the colour of the loose curls about Gypsia's hawk like features; the slightly hooked nose is too powerful for a woman, as is the strong, square jaw and the wide temples. Dark skin deepens to near ebony, a flawless but distinctive complexion heightened by the soft touch of cobalt highlights in her silken tresses. Perhaps her only truly feminine feature is her velvety brown eyes, lovely and large and framed with long lashes that curl gently. Overall she is lean, tall and lanky with curves so slight many scarcely notice they are there. Supple and casual, her presense carries an aura of boneless grace and a tough spirit.
Bright colors sparkle against her, vibrant red, dark green and purple in a light, loose garment. It's the distinctive style of the Igen nomads, with a soft cloak being Gypsie's concession to weather away from the hold of her birth. Her feet are in sturdy sandals and a braided strip of leather keeping a soft veil securely controlling her hair. Enygma is hanging off Gypsie's shoulder.
Gypsie looks to be in her late twenties.

M'rika nods, "Yeah, yeah. The only problem with that is that /I/ plan to get rid of S'tan so D'karon can take over with me running the show from behind him." 1, 2, 3 seconds she manages to keep a straight face before bursting out into laughter.

Jyfer does her best to keep a straight face as she moves to the far end of their table cleaning it. The version she heard was slightly different, the whole Elisa thing is probably not true, but she doesn't think it is too hard to comprehend Peydra killing and hiding bodies of Weyrfolk. Though she probably would have been the first to go. She takes her bucket and rag returning to the kitchen. She returns several minutes later with a fresh bucket and rag, moving to the table next to the riders' washing it.

M'rika sends Persephone winging off her shoulder.

Persephone glides over to the table Jyfer is washing and chirrups cordially.

"Oh, right," Peydra says wryly. "How could I forget that?" Her lips twitch into a smile, and she says, "The truth? I lost my temper in here once and went after someone, but Elisa named me her assistant because I was jumping to her defense. She and I are /not/ sleeping together, but she spent the night up there once when she was upset with S'tan. And regarding Eriol? Ugh. I still have /some/ sanity."

Jyfer smiles up at the green from her washing. She says in a low voice "Want something to eat after I finish this table?" She continues to wash though as she awaits the green's response. She doesn't comment on Peydra's "...I went after someone..." she knows who she is and she has no desire to stay on the rider's bad side.

M'rika looks at her firelizard, puzzled for a moment, then glances at Gypsie with a smile before looking back to Peydra, "Eriol? What bout him?"

Gypsie drifts in, a surprisingly lost expression on her face as she quietly goes to a table and picks up a small toy some child has dropped and forgotten. Toy is tucked away and she glances towards the others with curiousity plain in her expression.

"Oh, he's that new steward I'm supposed to be in love with," Peydra responds. "You heard about his promotion? How wonderful, huh? Another slimebucket with power over people's lives."

M'rika blinks, thinking hard for a moment, "You know, I've not even met him... Dak may have mentioned him once, but..." She shakes her head and sighs. She smiles at Gypsie and stands, "Want some klah, Peydra? "

Jyfer finishes her table, then goes to the table with food. She takes a meatroll on a plate and breaks it up, then carries it back to the table the green sits on. She pushes it over to her, then takes her rag and bucket moving down to the next table, humming as she goes.

Persephone chirrups happily at Jyfer and cleans her back talons. Hygeine is important for cute green lizards, you know.