Erith and Zyanth's Eggs - Fort Weyr
Hatching: February 4, 2001

NCpern - Thursday, February 01, 2001, 5:32 PM
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Spectators' Gallery in the Hatching Ground(#958RIJa$)
The galleries in the Hatching Grounds stretch the length of the southern wall of the cavern. Broad sweeps of stone benches provide ample seating for spectators. Above and across from here are ledges where the dragons perch to welcome new eggs and hatchlings. From your vantage point, you can see everything that happens on the sands.
Stairs to the northwest, at the end of the galleries, lead back down to the entrance to the hatching grounds. The Hatching Ground sands spread out before you to the northeast, and are accessible by another set of stairs to the north.
Obvious exits:
Bowl SAnds
You can 'view clutch', or 'view <section>', where <section> is either 'center', 'front', 'back', 'left', 'right', or 'gold'. You may also look at individual eggs with 'egg view list' or 'egg view <num>' where <num> is a valid egg number. Type 'view <object>' to look at an object on the Sands.

You see:
There in the center of the clutch rests a small hillock of eggs, 7 in all. Some of them, like the parched riverbed egg, and the egg that looks like a mudslide slipping along stealthily, are quite large. Around them, like hangers' on in some Holder's hall, are eggs that resemble warm springs, stormblown glacial residue, the vast plain of the seabed, the aftermath of the desert earthquake, and the small egg with the splotch of brown on it that looks like a promontory of land.

You see:
A collection of five eggs has been arranged in the front of the clutch. A pair nestle together, united by their resemblance to things volcanic, one that glistens like polished glass, the other with the haze of steam fumeroles overlying it. Scattered around them are the remaining three, the 'map' egg of the ring of fire, the egg that resembles an avalanche descending over mountain rock, and the egg that resembles alluvial deposits. They range in size from small to moderately large.

You see:
The back section is comprised mostly of small eggs, a little group of 3 half-mounded over with hot sand, those that the fanciful have labeled with resemblances to a fertile atoll in the midst of the sea, the rain shadow side of a mountain, and the black smoker. Close by where Zyanth is wont to lounge, are a pair of largish eggs, that Erith seems to have left in his keeping. One looks like the curved paths of glacier tracks, and the other has the shimmering appearance of deposits around some hot springs.

You see:
The left side of the clutch is another section of 5, as carefully counted out as marks to a trader's hand might be. These eggs are mostly medium size, with a small little one that nestles in the protective ring of the other four. Erith seems to have a theme for this section, rock and mountains, the shalescape egg nestled against the mountain cirque, the Red Butte standing guard side by side with the caldera. The small egg looks like volcanic extrusion with a haze of gases over it.

You see:
Another 5 eggs, spaced tightly together, off to the right of the center grouping. Here rest a range from smallest to largest of the clutch, with the exception of the gold, largest of all. One large egg resembles a drumlin in mountain country, another the patchwork of terranes brought together by land movements, then the egg patterned with frost polygon shapes, the egg that looks like mud pots erupting, and down to the tiniest egg that looks like a mass of molten lava scooped up like some odd shaped ball.

You see:
The largest egg, sitting in splendor, embedded in a nest of warm sand, the hollow wide and deep. There it waits, the shell a radiant, almost polished gold. Around the edges of the depression in which it slumbers, bits of shell have been gathered and arranged, perhaps by the Queen herself, giving the golden egg the impression of being embedded in the crust of stone, like some gold node deep in a subterranean pocket, away from light and prying fingers. Secure in its abode, the egg gives off subtle emanations to the fanciful, a restless sleep, tense dreams, brilliant emotions.

Ring of Fire Egg
Variations in color range from blues to browns to pale greens outlined with thin lines of black. Are those words here and there? They can't quite be made out though surely that's the Northern and Southern Barrier Ranges and the chain of islands that exists toward the Eastern side of the Northern Continent. In a huge ring that encircles the entire 'map', there are bright red dots but what do they represent? Those up on their Pernese geography might recognize a resemblance to the "Ring of Fire", or the large circle of volcanoes that are part of the world. There must be a smart dragon within this egg for such studies are difficult Harper lessons.

Warm Springs Egg
Inviting, small, its surface reminiscent of a spring of bubbling warmth, swirls of steam rising from it to dance and caress shiny, wet rock. The gauze white over pale blue and dark brown might evoke visions, gurgling of water, so enticing, relaxing heat. Muscles might ache to sink into the luxurious liquid. One could float in imagination, like in a thermal pool, slipping away from reality, dreaming of what's to come.

Red Butte Egg
Standing solid and alone on the vast plains of Keroon, is a natural wonder, the Red Butte that seems to keep guard of the land around it. This egg, tiptilted on end, resembles that amazing formation, the red colors of clay providing a warm, inviting feeling. It is no wonder Weyrleaders journey to this aloof and neutral spot to discuss the fate of Pern. Ominous and independent, as this egg seems to be, holding the secrets told there in utter silence.

Molten Lava Egg
From the depths of Pern it waits, boiling and roiling, bubbling with the extreme heat of life. A pool of red-hot rock glows to the point of disaster, running down the sides of this charred egg in rivers of pulsating red and orange. The lower half of the egg is black, as if burned to an unrecognizable state by the hot liquid from above.

Desert Earthquake Egg
Did the egg move? A glimpse as it now sits still, yellows, browns, and greys intermingling to look like the sandstone of the Igen desert. From one side it looks calm, untainted, perfection that promises warmth and dryness, but on the other side...a jagged crack-like line tears it in half from top to bottom. Hope seems lost as the desert sands give way to a bottomless abyss. Yet, something deep in the illusory crack holds a sparkle of light. All is not lost, but found in the depths of the sands.

Rolling Mudslide Egg
Thick and rich, the color of soil that looks hearty and healthy as it should on a midsummer's day. But the rains have come, making the soil liquid, watery. Small streams of mud appear to trickle down the grey-white of the egg, and the fanciful could envision that a small lump is an innocent cothold, chosen for the scenic view of hills and fertile soil. It is as if the hillside at the top of the egg shifts restless, working to escape the bonds of root and shale, to break free and roll across the expanse of the egg, covering all in its path.

Limu o Pele Egg
The clear blue of an ocean lagoon glimmers around cooled volcanic rock, with additional reflections. Glassy fragments and minuscule bubbles seem carried on the crests of waves; a strange seaweed, this. Some shimmer with greeny browns, others are nearly clear, basaltic glass in evidence of the creep of lava under waves. These fragments seem to have been tossed over the smooth shell of the egg, amid the blues of the sea, accumulating in the lower curves against the sands of the Hatching Grounds.

Stormblown Loess Egg
Here, Fort's sands seem to aggregate into an egg, complex shading adding texture to the smooth shell. Ripples of sand and thick sediment coalesce and part in a complex network, crests glimmering with reflected light in contrast to the deep varnish between. Serpentine trails twist at the whim of the wind, it seems. Much like the waves tumbling in the shallows of the lake, the effect is reminiscent of what arid desert regions would look like, frozen into stone, from high on dragonwing.

Silent Avalanche Egg

Desolate Caledra Egg
The egg is a bluish white, like frozen milk, or the Ice Lake in the fist of winter, but not smooth by any means. The white is dotted with lumps of grey, of black, like dirty snow and clumps of rock, in wavering patterns that begin half way down, a tattered, tired edging. Beneath it, the egg is a pale, smooth tan, with flecks of dark loam, sleeping, dreaming, unsuspecting land that will soon be subsumed under the advance of the silent avalanche.
The larger end of this egg seems oddly shaped, almost indented, the shadowing and shading of dark brown and black against a greyish white. Streaks of shadow from eggs around it heighten the impression of some mountain caldera, sere and barren, with only a faint lick of orange to hint at the fiery origins of the cauldron's shape.

Rain Shadow Egg
High mountains, laved by the coastal winds, the lush green of vegetation on one half of this egg calls them to mind. Streaks of darker green gather around tiny rivelets of blue, as if lush bushes crouch along stream banks. The other half of the egg is more tannish colored, with dark, spindly lines, and faint splotches of yellow-green, the rain shadow, the side of the mountain deprived of moisture that falls so freely on the other.

Frost Polygons Egg
This, a smallish egg, has long, irregular indentations around it, as if some huge child's hand had picked it up and squeezed. It is an unremarkable color, the pale creamy-brown of some common rock, but the surface is patterned, like polygons. Those that study such things would call them frost polygons, created by repeated freezing and thawing. Flecks of some glittery whiteness catch the light and make the patterning more apparent.

Mud Pots Egg
The surface of this egg is rough and uneven, though it seems to have been shaped in some odd manner. The pale ivory of the egg base is as warm as sand on a beach, but scattered all about the egg's form are huge, circular and semi-circular blotches of thick, dark brown, so dark they seem almost black in contrast to the cream. So much do they resemble mud pots that boil and belch, one might expect to hear the slow plop plop of falling mud as you watch it.

High Mountain Cirque Egg
Though it's lying in the warm embrace of the sands, this egg seems to be tilted and propped against a sibling, so that the greyish length of it is reminiscent of some mountain face in the far reaches of the north. A slight concave form to it calls to mind a high mountain cirque, and the thin fingers of whitish blue that cascade down from the top are much like mountain streams hurling themselves over the lip of the cirque and sliding down the sheer face.

Abyssal Plain Egg
Lying there in the warmth of the sands, perfectly embedded in them, the long and narrow egg rests a little apart from its mates. There is an other worldness about it, the top an almost sheer sea green over the cream base, with undulations in it like ripples. But the underside is darker, a vast plain, with small black smudges, like rock outcroppings, and vague shapes, as if sea creatures meandered there. One might almost expect the sound of the sea to emanate from it, the deep pulsing of waves far from land over the abyssal plain beneath.

Black Smoker Egg
In the depths of blackness, the sun's light filtered to oblivion, inky dark plumes spew into the cold ocean. Billowing above a chimney, sulfurous minerals crystalized at the base of the egg, matte ashen flows curl and twist over the curve of the shell. Around the lower reaches of the egg, where shiny darkness of water rests undisturbed, pinpoints of red bioluminescence cluster, congregating near the chimney's heat.

Finger Promontory Egg
A swirling mass of light blues, greens that infiltrate and meld in a lovely wavelike pattern, this egg resembles some bit of sea plucked from the ocean itself and brought to rest on the sands. Along the top, a broad ruff of brown, darkish, loamy, segueing to a lighter, sandy color. One long spindle thrusts out into the mass of blues like some finger pointing the way to the future like a small, sandy promontory in the sea of the unknown.

Nuee Ardente Egg
There is a sense of heat about this egg, the base layer a reddish-orange that radiates in the illumination of the cavern. It seems to swirl and roil, as if contained in a too small pot. Over it, covering vast patches, is a thin, gaseous hazy shimmer, much like a thick cloud of hot gases that roll over the tephra of an erupting volcano. One could search for meaning in the patterns of the gas clouds for hours.

Alluvium Egg
An odd shape, the contours not quite ovoid in the expected sense, this egg sits slightly off to the side of a clump of others. Browns and beiges, creamy silt, and tans, it resembles alluvium, in a variety of gradiations. The patterns are fan-like, layer upon layer, like soil lace made into a gown for the egg beneath. Far at the top of the egg is a pool of light blue, and finger trickles like tiny streams coursing a careful progress down the body of the egg.

Brooding Drumlin Egg
Those who study geology, with a focus on glaciers, might fix on this largish egg in a long perusal. Tall and narrow at the 'upstream' end, and sloping to a long, broad 'tail', this dark and glowering mass of egg resembles some brooding drumlin, high up on a mountain plain. Unrelieved stone grey, except for streaks of dark grey and black that give the appearance of cracks and crevices. A dusting of orangey-brown along the upper part is like some busy lichen patch, working on returning the stone to a more pliable form.

Medial Moraines Egg
The dry brown of the egg, with darker, crazed crack-appearing streaks might put one in mind of a riverbed, suffering, drying. Thirst from the drought of a late summer's heatwave had sucked the moisture even from the air. Sevendays lacking rain, temperatures soaring above the norm, left a normally rushing riverbed a dusty rememberance of what it once was, or could be again. Gone is the fresh, arctic cool liquid pulsating quickly in a southward rush to the sea. In its place; dry, cracked chasm of parched earth. The heat shimmers off its surface, distorting vision into an illusion of wiggling waves.

Parched Riverbed Egg
Hard stone, scrubbed clean high in the mountains, under the fast lash of rain and wind, and the slow scouring of glacial flow, this, indeed, is what the lumpish egg resembles, as do many of its clutchmates. But here the stone is gouged and runnelled, long, lighter streaks in a fascinating, almost decorative pattern. Course upon course, lying against each other, with a thin, darker greyish-cream band between. At their terminus, each curls, like some feline's lapping tongue, and is bearded round with dark blotches, irregular dollops of color, here and there a faint shimmer, like mica, caught in a seemingly rough spot. Boulders carries to the medial moraine's end and dropped there, as a petulant child might drop pieces in some game now grown uninteresting.

Steam Fumeroles Egg
Dark, like night without light, the egg is a mixture of odd, high gloss patterns and rough, pumice like patches. The brooding lump, as it lies there in the sands, resembles some fuming little volcano, dreaming of a grand eruption later on. Here and there on its flanks, are tiny circlets of light, whitish-grey, spumey-edged, seeming to swirl and drift, like the products of fumeroles, keeping the pressure of the interior at the edge of danger.

Terranes Egg
A patchwork effect covers this little egg, nestled in a clump of bigger others. Different colors, grey, brown, almost night black, beige to tan, tan to a light green that gives way to a warmish yellow. The egg resembles a mass of jumbled terranes, bits of geological detritus packed together to form a new whole, the edging of a continent, adding mass and bulk.

Shalesscape Egg
Looking at this egg, one might be transported far from the confines of the hatching grounds, out to where something happens, between the desert and the mountains. An end to the long sands, but still far from the beginning base of towering peaks. An eerie sort of calmness as heat bakes and moisture begins to set in. Footing more solid now, far as the eye can see nothing but rock. Sharp at times, jagged points that stick out here and there, but thinner parts that crumble beneath simple human weight. Grey, very grey, an endless sea of hard, grey blandness ending in the horizon. Encouraged by the vision of mountains in the distance, many pass through here, enriched by dreams of lush valleys, a new future, a joyful promise beyond.

Fertile Atoll Egg
The vibrant colors of this egg are in pleasant juxtaposition to the brooding darkness of so many others. Shapes swirl and almost seem to move, an illusion of the heat that rises from the sand. As one studies the egg one might be drawn to thoughts of the sea. Sea life in abundance seems to swim in and out beneath the waves. At high tide, hidden, a mystery as to why the waters beyond that certain point are calmer than the rest of the sea near the coast. Low tide, and the secret revealed, an island of coral forming a ring to protect a small lagoon. Blues and greens of the waters mix with a circle of orange, of protection that allows the packtail to find temporary solace in these calm waters. Perhaps the being inside this egg will give that protection...and secret...to the lifemate it waits for on the sands.

Shimmering Sinter Egg
There along the edges of the thermal pools, the hot springs, the mud pots, the vents that fume and purl with steam and gases, there the deposits congregate on the thick brown and black of volcanic soil. Patterns random, patterns so perfect and eye-catching one could be lured to study their winking brilliance for hours on end. Little treasures of mineral flakes, clots, blotches, green for coppery, the red of iron, others that one would need to be trained to identify. A medium sized egg, placid on the edge of chaotic activity, slumbering in a steaming dream.

Gold Node Egg
The largest egg, sitting in splendor, embedded in a nest of warm sand, the hollow wide and deep. There it waits, the shell a radiant, almost polished gold. Around the edges of the depression in which it slumbers, bits of shell have been gathered and arranged, perhaps by the Queen herself, giving the golden egg the impression of being embedded in the crust of stone, like some gold node deep in a subterranean pocket, away from light and prying fingers. Secure in its abode, the egg gives off subtle emanations to the fanciful, a restless sleep, tense dreams, brilliant emotions.