Welcome to Gaia! ::

One of the first things Ethan learned was that any good merchant had to know the territory. All of it. You never knew when someone would be looking for a back alley, or if you needed to know what seedy parts to avoid when traveling, or if you needed to know what seedy parts you'd need to go to in order to fence off some less-than-official goods. A merchant dealt in information above and beyond any goods he traded, and even in that Ethan was still very low in stock.

Trine seemed to do a good job in restricting access to places people weren't allowed to go, or at least they made some of them abundantly clear. Ethan hadn't exactly pushed the boundaries yet - a couple weeks was hardly enough time in the weyr to get good bearings, combined with his orientations - so he was still a fair amount behind any of the older candidates or those who'd grown up there and he had a lot of catching up to do.

He'd seen some of the storehouses during the last several days, but his time there was always so regimented. He figured it would be empty on the day off - it seemed like most of the weyr shut down during this time. What all was in the supply rooms? What was stored in all the sheds? Ethan needed to know. He found the first familiar one, puffed air up into his bangs, opened the door, and stepped into the hallway.

Ethan hadn't expected to find anyone else here - this place seemed empty. From the way she was decked out, it looked like she was the one here for some chores. "Nope," he replied, taking in the relative giant. "I'm pretty new here, so I'm just trying to learn my way around." Not quite five feet himself, she towered above him, moreso than most adults.

'Kill time being productive,' she'd said... Sounded like she was trying to get in someone's good graces. "I won't," he said. The supplies looked familiar enough. "So what all do they keep in here? I've just seen some empty rooms they needed cleaned for something." He almost forgot himself. "I'm Ethan, by the way."

Hardware, oil, linens... Ethan made a mental list. "I am," he replied. "I don't know much about how this is all supposed to work. They usually only go Searching when there's a clutch already on the Sands?" He stepped forward and took the spare handkerchief, wrapping it around his face and tying it in back. This was a prime opportunity to gather some more information and scratch someone's back at the same time. A dirty job, but better than some of the other stories he'd heard of what he'd be doing in later weeks. "I just think they're cool, I guess." He shrugged, keeping his real ambition from blurting its way out. That wasn't the way here... not for him yet, at least. "Why not be a rider if you can, and they seem to think you've got a knack for it? I'm not gonna question that." He positioned himself around the opposite side of the barrel from Amelia, awaiting further instruction. "What about you?"

It was like Amelia was speaking a foreign language still. He tried to pick up what he could, but it wasn't much. At least she validated him. That was the important part. "If I impress," he added. Humility was important. Being too cocky wasn't going to get him anywhere, and an important reminder besides. Sometimes investments took time to flourish.

Ethan swung his head fast to catch up with Amelia's gesture. His eyes widened at the sight of the glimmering skin, yellow as the sun itself, the bright, curious eyes, flaring nostrils, and he flashed back to Amelia, his mouth dangling in disbelief. He didn't know much about golds, but he knew they were -important.- Oh, this was big. Valuable. He took a step back, the shadow passing over the windows like a fast cloud. "You... you're... gold..."

She gave her orders and Ethan quickly obeyed. "Yes, ma'am," he said, moving to the first barrel he saw. As he wobbled it to moving and slid it along the floor, he reminded himself - she's not the... what was it? Weyrwoman? She's acting like a normal person. You should act like she is too. "So... uh... um..." He mentally flailed for words, or composure. "If you're new here too, where are you from?"

Ethan laughed, the idea of a prolonged flight bringing back memories of the very brief excursion he'd taken from Toren to Trine, the ground falling away, the dragon steady, sure. "I'd really like that!" He grunted as he pushed the first barrel through the threshhold. He moved it a little further and wiped his brow as he re-entered the room, a smile on his face, not that Amelia could see it through the handkerchief, but his eyes and calmer shoulders likely gave it away. "Got it. Amelia." He was settled now. It was good to know how she wanted to be addressed. Maybe she wanted to feel more ordinary than she was, some humility of her own.

"Opportunities?" he asked, finding another barrel. The two of them were rather similar. "How'd that happen, after the revolution and all? I can't imagine they're not letting many more outsiders in after that." He tugged it away from the rest and moved around it. "Don't worry about me!" he said brightly. "Sharath just took me by surprise, I think. I've seen dragons around, but not usually a gold." The new normal that was Trine was still setting in. And it dawned on him he'd be doing this tomorrow as well... so much for his day off! But to spend it with a Junior Weyrwoman? And seeing a gold? And making a friend? Worth it.

Ethan stopped briefly and his eyes widened a little as Amelia spoke. The next Weyrwoman... even more profitable. She was certainly nice, too. The thud of Amelia's barrel broke his daze. Information was a currency, and it seemed like the market was open on both of them. "I helped my father in his trading post," he said, grunting as he tugged the barrel through the threshold. He clapped the dust on his hands and headed for the next one. "We manage the docks in Toren, in the west of Atlini Hold. Sometimes traders want to avoid the bottleneck at the main port, so they come over our way." Other advantages were met by those passing their goods through Toren, but he didn't want to bore Amelia with the details... or give a future Weyrwoman reason to pay Toren any attention. "I guess I'm doing that again for a while, am I?" The spider skittered away from Amelia and toward Ethan. He stepped to the side, letting it run further away. Better spiders than what the spiders eat, he'd been taught.

His last barrel awaited him, and he did the same as he had with the others - budge it, walk it away, get the momentum started, and keep it moving. It was no different than back home, when his father had sent him to the storerooms. "Do you have a good chance at Weyrwoman, do you think? Are there a lot of other gold riders competing?" he asked.

"Well, you're certainly very nice," Ethan said, lining the barrel up alongside the others. "You'd be a great Weyrwoman, I'm sure!"

He nodded at Amelia's suggestion, acknowledging her with a hum. He wandered out to the hallway and stood as she continued, looking either way, unsure where to find the rags and broom he'd want in order to continue helping. His ears perked at Weyrleader, but was amused at the thought of the two of them co-leading the Weyr, regardless of how far off in the future this would be.

"I'm... really not sure what I'd want to do. The workings of the riders wasn't really much concern back home," he said. "Weyrleader sounds great and all, but I think that's too far ahead to worry about for someone from the outside like me. I don't even know which way it is to the supply closet to get myself a broom!"