Stew Party 2 - This is Morale Building, I Swear
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Halyonix, Heather, Iluva, Shawna, Steel, Yvonne
Date Posted: 26th July 2026
Characters: A'brevan, H'kami, R'hil, L'kav, C'uren, R'vayn, I'serin
Description: A’brevan attempts to foster positive relationships in Ridge Wing
Location: Dragonsfall Weyr
Date: month 1, day 28 of Turn 13
“There. You let that simmer for about 20 more minutes. Don’t forget to stir it, I’m not taking the blame if you scorch it now.” Zaleri pointed a spoon at her foster brother threateningly. Looking around at his tidy kitchen and the selection of food they’d made, she nodded, “I think you’re all set. This little party will go fine.”
A’brevan was leaning against a table, “It’s not a party. It’s… more of a wing meeting. With food. And limited business talk.” At her pointed look, he said, “Alright, it’s a little bit of a party. It was a good thing T’gyrlan had going. I want to make it clear I’m not going to break what’s already working.”
“Well, I’m sure it will go just fine. And if it doesn’t, it won’t be because of the food. Would Riakerth mind dropping me off back home?”
“Oh, I think he can manage that. He needs to clear off the ledge for a bit anyway so everyone can land. Thank you for your help.” He walked her to the ledge, giving her a hand to mount the patiently waiting bronze.
“Next month, you’re on your own,” the dark haired woman threatened as a farewell before Riakerth launched them both into the air for the quick glide across the Weyr.
A’brevan left the door open between his ledge and the inner weyr, a clear invite for his wing to walk right in when they arrived. Instead of inviting his wing to join him in the cooking, he’d instructed the wing to make or bring something- food, dessert, drink-, to share. If it came down to it, he had enough for a simple meal, but he hoped the wing would cooperate. The monthly wing parties had been a big hit under T’gyrlan and R’enh. He hoped to capitalize on that good will.
The weyr itself was tidy. The chairs and benches were clearly borrowed- mismatched and crammed into a too small room, but it was organized and clean, the walls full of shelves of books and art supplies, and a few framed sketches.
“I am here!” H'kami chirped, breezing in, in his second best flight outfit. “Got two bottles of wine, too-- nice and chilled.” He brandished one, before setting them to the side. “Oh cool, I'm early.”
Beyond him, Teyrabth lifted off and soared away.
A small knock at the door heralded R’hil’s arrival. He smiled shyly and held out a loaf of dark seedy bread he’d nicked from the kitchen, which was his go-to since stew was… suspicious. If he had to go to a Wing party, then at least he had something to eat.
A low harumph echoed in from the ledge a few moments later where Feyonth had just landed, the usual surly agitation tracing her eyes. }:How long will you be?:{ Her head swung around to look expectantly at her rider, who had already leaped down to the ledge with a nimble ‘thump’. The hot dish tucked in his arm was wrapped in a tea towel. Its lid clinked, a soft billow of fragrant steam escaping, as L’kav righted it, a bit gracelessly to avoid burning his palms.
**Depends on how long the wine and conversation last, I suppose.** He smiled up at her, and she pressed her muzzle close to his cheek like a kiss before turning with an exaggerated sigh and taking off.
L’kav was in far better spirits as he took in the space. He'd looked forward to T'gyrlan's stew parties and he hoped these new dishes and dinners kept the tradition alive. The mouth-watering scents, and the handful of ‘mates already gathered, had him smiling. “Evening, boys,” he said cheerily, setting down his dish of spiced rice. “Oh, those look like good vintages.” he said to H’kami.
R’hil began to feel very warm as his wingmates trickled in. They were all dressed… normally. He looked down at the deep purple Gather tunic that he’d dug out of the bottom of his chest and wished that he hadn’t bothered trying to shake the wrinkles out. Someone had played him for a dimglow.
“Oh, very good H’kami. Glasses are in here,” A’brevan flipped open a cupboard as he bustled around the kitchen area, giving the curry another stir. “Feel free to start pouring. I’ll take a glass if you don’t mind. “R’hil, did you bake that bread? It smells wonderful.” He pulled out another drawer full of various utensils. It was clearly a surprisingly well-stocked kitchen for a bachelor bronzerider. “L’kav, what do you have there? Do you need a spoon or?”
“Do not fear, my Wingmate friends, the party has arrived!” an exuberant voice shouted from the ledge outside. Roeth took off to make room for the next dragon as C’uren sauntered in, two bottles of wine in hand and a conniving grin to match. He was quite obviously overdressed, sporting attire more suited for a Gather instead of a Wing party. He danced a little in place. “Let’s get started!”
“It's an _excellent_ vintage, yes.” H'kami agreed, fetching down glasses from where they were indicated, uncorked one of the bottles and started to pour. The first glass went to A’brevan, of course.
“Anyone else want a glass?” He asked. “Oh, that looks _good_, R'hil. L'kav, is that rice? Nice. Hi C'uren-- bring those bottles over here.”
“H’kami, my friend, how are you?” C’uren crowed jovially as he did so.
“Glasses for everyone!” L’kav boomed. He punctuated the words with a quick, deft clap of his hands and shot a similarly devilish grin in R’hil and C’uren’s directions. “It _is_ indeed rice." He fished out a long-handled spoon from A’brevan’s utensil drawer and plopped it into the dish. “I didn’t make it, but I did taste-test it.”
“I didn’t make bread either,” R’hil admitted quietly. “I don’t know how to bake bread.”
“Sorry I’m late,” R’vayn boomed as he finally came striding into the weyr. “But I was on an important assignment.” Lifting the cloth off the basket he carried, he revealed several bottles nestled inside. “Hot buttered rum, fresh from the Vintner Hall.”
“I'd be self-conscious about my cooking if I’d made the curry,” A’brevan said dryly, though his eyes did light up at R’vayn’s offering. “Everyone is bringing alcohol.” He gave R’hil a smile, “If you want to learn to bake bread, I have some very good connections in the kitchens.”
R’hil looked down at his feet and mumbled something incomprehensible in response.
L'kav's smile softened and went slightly wry. “Some things are best left to the professionals.” He said with a sage nod, as though he'd made out any of what R'hil actually just said. He eyed the rum R'vayn revealed with obvious approval.
The next arrival did not bring alcohol, though he desperately wished that he would have consumed at least a glass before arriving. For some reason that he would unpack later, he was terribly nervous. Aluneth could not figure out why but he did not press. He dropped off his rider and then left him to navigate the situation.
As thus, the new Wingthird of Ridge Wing stood at the entrance, a small pot of braised greens in his hands, uncertain of what next to do. It was just a Wing party, was it not? How had he been less nervous when attending the raucous Alpine parties?
L'kav turned, his smile widening again. “Ah, I'serin. Get in here. Wine or rum?”
A sloshed Wingthird would be a terrible idea. “Wine, please,” I’serin answered, stepping forward at L’kav’s welcome. He scanned the room quickly and then spotted a place to deposit his culinary contribution. “Wingleader,” he greeted with a nod of his head.
R’vayn rolled his eyes. “Of course he picks wine. Probably drinks it with his pinky up, too,” he muttered to a nearby companion before depositing the rum onto the table for everyone to enjoy. He studiously avoided A’brevan’s eye in case he’d heard the comment. As Wingsecond, R’vayn was supposed to play nice with I’serin, after all.
C’uren heard this comment and chortled. R’hil pretended he hadn’t heard anything.
“R’vayn,” there was a hint of warning in A’brevan’s tone, but all he said was, “Would you mind passing out bowls?” as he started dishing out the curry. “Now, this is my fostersister’s recipe, so if anyone has any complaints… I don’t want to hear it, because Zaleri is intimidating. Anyone who had snuck into the kitchens to try to steal baked goods had probably faced her before. “Dig in and drink up.”
Last updated on the August 7th 2026