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Lord Holder Thyrain
Thyrain paused outside the council room, taking a deep breath and putting on what those closest to him called his "Lord Holder face." The name suited it, as it was the face worn whenever he needed to inspire inspiration, fear, or simply make a demand. Public face would almost be a better term, he mused, before opening the door and stepping inside.
"Weyrwoman Illea, Weyrling Master R'sul," Thyrain greeted formally, almost stiffly, nodding to each as he said their name. Without waiting to be offered a seat, the Lord Holder took one that was across from the two dragonriders. "Congratulations on your new position," Thyrain said to Illea. From experience, he knew that flattery and compliments could get you far, and congratulations could work in one's favor as well. What one needed most, though, was to know one's opponent, so as to be better prepared when they acted. It was a tricky game Thyrain played, one with high risks, but just as high rewards if one was to win. He had to prepare for his next move, so he watched carefully both R'sul's and Illea's reactions, their faces, putting everything being a Harper had taught him into play. He waited for the two across from him to make their move, so that he could react accordingly.
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Meeting of Powers
