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Post by topaz on Apr 19, 2009 14:39:22 GMT -5
C'vin knew it would happen. He'd predicted it. But he was still horrified and astonished beyond belief when it happened. In a spilt second, Raylin's finger was bitten from her hand. Bitten! Not even cut with a knife, he bit it off! C'vin had always known that the riders of Benden were filthy, vicious scum, but literally bloodthirsty? C'vin could see the greenweyrling was trying her best to hold back a scream, but it was too much for her. it would have been too much for anyone. C'vin wasn't even hurt, aside from the sore cut on his chest, but he wanted to yell out with her.
Mallowth let out a mix of growls and croons, not knowing what to do for His and for Ebolath's. Ebolath! Mallowth hurried over to comfort his clutchsibling, and made sure she would not run out and do something that might bring Hers to more harm. Twisting his neck in front of hers and extending a wing over her smaller frame, the blue tried to comfort his sister. Ebolath! You must be strong for yours. I know you want to go to her, like I want to be next to Mine, but you will make the men do something worse! You must stay here with us. I won't let him hurt you too. He crooned lovingly. We will save Yours, do not worry. We will save all of Ours. And when we do, you can tear into the bronze's and no one will stop you.
C'vin looked over to his blue as he nuzzled Ebolath, and almost smiled. Almost. He couldn't bring himself to do much else then breath and watch things unfold with quickly darting eyes. As a fist found T'rid's stomach, C'vin looked back to F'rel as he spoke. Spies? But the blueweyrling didn't bother contemplating the comment for long as the other Benden riders rushed towards them. Well, not C'vin. The others really. Except . . . Farryl and C'oar. What was happening? Don't think C'vin wasn't glad he wasn't being attacked. He certainly was! But why? Why them three? As a man came to grab Ke'rin only a few steps away, C'vin wished he could get to his knife. He began wriggling at the binds on both his hands and his feet, but the ones on his feet were still too tight to get over his boots. He silently cursed the last minute clothing option before he had left his room. So, with the arch of his right boot, C'vin pushed at the heel of his left, prying it off after a few painful shoves. That gave him room enough to wriggle and pull his bare foot out of the rope, and left plenty of room for his other boot to toss off the binding.
Still in a kneeling position with his front facing the oncoming riders, C'vin hoped they would not notice his feet had been freed. It helped that they weren't even going after him, a strange factor that he had yet to understand. Now he began wriggling his wrists around in the remaining rope.
Then a giant ferocious salamandyr took over his mind's eye. What on Pern . . ?! Shaking his head to rid himself of the angry scene, he noticed that the attackers were equally stunned. This was their chance! Wrenching his hands to and fro now, one of them finally was able to slip free of the rope, and both hands quickly unsheathed his two knives. Jumping to his feet, the blueweyrling charged at the rider coming for Ke'rin, crashing into his side, and plunging one of his knives into the area where he hoped his stomach was.
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Post by dragon on Apr 19, 2009 15:22:50 GMT -5
C'oar looked at I'fael as the man tied him up. But his expression was blank as it happened. He found it remotely reassuring that not only was the Weyrling master tying loose, but he wasn't taking away the weapons that he was holding. Indeed, C'oar was still holding both the bloody, confiscated knife, and his wooden mock-sword. Clenching his grip on the weapons served two purposes: aiding in making the ropes that much looser as the action swelled the size of his wrists slightly, in addition to the room that I'fael provided, but also ensured that his weapons would not be easily swiped.
And almost as soon as he was tied, C'oar reversed his knife and started sawing on the rope. He didn't like being tied. Hanging onto the rope with one finger of his sword hand, he sawed at it with the other. And when it was severed, the rope did not fall, thus not clueing anyone in that the burly lad was free again. His feet ... that might be a harder thing to handle. Now, again, all he could do was wait.
And watch. C'oar scowled, and almost growled his anger, when the arrogant bronzer removed one of Raylin's fingers. How DARE he?! But it really torqued C'oar to know that even with that, there was still nothing he could do. Nothing that wouldn't get her outright killed, anyway. He could hear the dragons behind him bolstering each other, trying to keep each other calm ...
Frosstyth's head was very, very low, almost to the floor, his eyes swirling hot and fast in reds and oranges. There was very little keeping the brown in place. Almost nothing. The only think keeping him there, was his loyalty to C'oar. Who had ordered him earlier on to stay where he was. So, stay he would. Unless C'oar came into direct danger of immenent death, the brown would stay put. Otherwise, Frosstyth would unleash his tightly-coiled muscles and spring forward so fast ... all to protect his.
T'rid got socked in the guts. Any other day, C'oar would have considered cheering. But now ... it was not a good thing. As much as a problem as T'rid was, he was still one of very few assets that the Selenitas crowd had. If only barely. If he'd just keep his mouth shut and not provoke more harm to Raylin...
And then he received the insane image of a giant-sized white mandyr eating people. All C'oar did was blink once. He knew what a mandyr was ... how small they were. Much less a white one. Which, apparently none of the Benden creeps did. Ah hah! They were stunned. NOW!!!
C'oar moved, before the images had even stopped. It was time. He stooped quickly, hands coming forward. He slashed at the rope there, cutting himself free, and then he lunged forward, thick arms coming up.
F'rel was his target, first. The wooden sword was screaming through the air the end was traveling so fast, aimed straight at the side of the bronzer's head, as C'oar lunged toward him. His knife was up, also, but by far lower and closer to home. As he closed the distance, he had to adjust suddenly as T'rid got in the way, tearing Raylin free. "RUN!" C'oar yelled to her, having to draw up his sword and redirect. It lost a lot of it's bone-crushing force, then. But now it was aimed at the solid meat of F'rel's side. C'oar hoped he still retained enough energy in that swing to break ribs.
He followed it up with a quick jab of his knife, point-slashing at the bronzer's throat. That honorless man was going to die, this night! C'oar swore it.
From inside the barracks, as C'oar rushed F'rel, Frosstyth bellowed fit to make any brown proud. He lunged forward as well, but stopped on the first step, trembling all over with the pent up energy and anger he harbored. He wanted to go out there and KILL. But his had said to stay inside. He had to stay inside...
Kindrith ignored the quip from M'ta. Silly boy. So much for having helpful aid from that source. He turned his attention back toward the group ahead of him, his attention focused on that bronze. That bronze deserved to die!
And then a lot of things happened at once. First a rather rediculous string of images from a silly 'mandyr about eating people hundreds of times its own size as if they were tiny morsels. And then the people there before him broke out into movement, from everywhere. Apparently, the little 'mandyr had tipped some sort of delicate balance!
And Kindrith was willing to jump on the scales, himself. NOW! He issued, before bounding forward with a thunderous roar. Toward that bronze. It only took him two long strides and a leap to cover the distance. Snarling the blue fully intended to lock with the much larger bronze, and kill him.
Having seen quite a bit of battle, Kindrith wasn't entirely stupid about it. Though the idiocy of attacking a bronze alone was a big mark of stupidity in and of itself. He went for the throat, first. Impacting the bronze from the side and possibly dislodging him off of Morendoth's back, Kindrith snaked his head around and reached to clamp his jaws on the neck of the bronze. DIE!![/b][/color]
Well … even if he didn't succeed, he might startle people a little bit more, after that. Heck. He was pale enough. Maybe they'd think he was the giant 'mandyr?
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Post by ladybug on Apr 19, 2009 16:21:29 GMT -5
A'fyr gasped, his facing losing all color as he watched the bronzerider bite Raylin's finger clear off her hand. His stomach churned, threatening to revolt, and he had to quickly look away or else risk going the same route as T'ke. Stay calm, mine,[/color] Rudolth said, keeping him grounded. A'fyr nodded in silent agreement.
F'rel gave a signal, and then the riders advanced, clearly planning to kill them. For a moment, A'fyr was rather depressed that he apparently wasn't good enough to keep alive. Then, fear drowned out that sentiment. Was this it? He wanted to close his eyes, but he forced himself to keep his gaze on the approaching rider.
And then, the image of a huge white creature exploded into his mind. A'fyr shook his head, trying to banish the image, just as shocked as the others until he realized what it was. The rider about to kill him froze, giving him a few seconds of opportunity to do...something. He tugged at his bonds, but they weren't loose enough to get out of. Was the distraction just prolonging his death? Rudolth bellowed, swinging his head back and forth in panic, but there was nothing he could do except
Beauty sprang back from her mission, pleased that she and Star had worked together to create a distraction. But that wouldn't matter if this silly rider killed her owner! She nibbled at the bonds, but she wasn't strong enough to break them, either.
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Post by weaving on Apr 19, 2009 16:27:35 GMT -5
The severed digit flew past him. It took every ounce of strength he had not to do something foolish in an attempt to save Raylin. Her ring finger she could live without. Her neck, not so much. He could only hope that she wouldn’t faint of blood lose or that no one else would foolishly attempt to rush at F’rel. He eyed C’oar and T’rid closely, knowing that both of them were close to Raylin. If either of them tried something foolish, he’d stop them himself. It would only get Raylin killed, and F’rel might also decide that they didn’t need Morendoth after all. It would be all too easy to dispose of the brown, which would leave I’fael less than whole. As much as he cared for Selenitas, he couldn’t sacrifice Morendoth. If the others were in the same position as he was, surely they’d understand.
If I’fael had any reaction to F’rel’s suggestion to castrating T’rid, he gave no indication of it, instead standing there with a blank look on his face. Under normal circumstances, he’d probably joke about castration being a good idea. After all, no one wanted T’rid’s stupidity to be passed on to future generations. Unfortunately, that joke didn’t seem so amusing when it was an actual possibility. If it came down to it, I’fael wasn’t certain he knew what he’d do if F’rel ordered him to actually perform the task. It would give him a chance to get close enough to the man to speak to him. Perhaps he’d have a plan which was more than anyone else could really say.
And then everyone seemed to stand still. The image of a giant white salamandyr was projected, clearly shocking the benden attackers. So they didn’t know of the little pests then? I’fael had never much cared for them, but it seemed that tonight they might turn the tide, at least for a moment. He still couldn’t do anything, for fear of Morendoth, but hopefully someone else would act on it. Sure enough, T’rid had grabbed for Raylin while C’oar charged at F’rel. Silly boy. All he had was a wooden stick and a knife to try and kill the man with and chances were that the salamandyr image wouldn’t have shocked F’rel that much.
Making a descision, the weyrlingmaster took off after his weyrling, leaping and hoping to tackle him out of the way of any retaliating blow that F’rel might try to make. It would probably get him severely injured, but he was probably doomed to die anyway. At least this way he could go out with a fight.
Morendoth took the temporary distraction, fueled by the pain from Trilyanth’s claws digging in, to snap violently at the bronze’s neck. It would probably be the only chance he had to attack, though as Kindrith leapt from the forest and barreled into the bronze, he was proven wrong. It wasn’t enough force to dislodge Trilyanth entirely, but the bronze’s hold was loosened, allowing the brown to wiggle loose of his grasp. Free, Morendoth ignored his injuries for the moment, turning swiftly to face his attacker. Thankful now for all those times he’d showed the weyrlings how to pounce and jump about, the brown now performed one such maneuver, hoping to land on the bronze’s back. It was difficult to judge distances in the dark, but at the very least he could hopefully land a glancing blow. Surely Trilyanth couldn’t recover from Kindrith’s collision that quickly.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Apr 19, 2009 16:59:28 GMT -5
Merridan whirled with M'ta to face the advancing noise, dagger ready to pounce. But from his words and M'ta's reaction, this dragon was no enemy. She had never heard a dragon speak to her before, but now wasn't the time to wonder about it. His comment was rather obvious and not very helpful. She had thought a dragon would be smarter than that. Then again, not all people were smart either, why should dragons be any different?
Mer turned to survey the scene at the barracks. It didn't look good. She itch to help, but what could she do? She and M'ta would only get themselves killed if they rushed in without thinking. Then, without warning, a stream of emotion and horrifying images entered her mind. Mer had never seen a salamandyr before. She had no idea what she was looking at. She shook her head wildly, trying to drive the pictures out while at the same time trying to figure out if they were real or not. That white thing couldn't possibly be a dragon with a frill like that. Did some kind of monster inhabit the Selenitas jungles?
Whatever it was didn't seem to stop the blue dragon. As soon as the enemy riders seemed distracted, he charged forward. Mer glared after him and rolled her eyes at the idiocy of his action. Large as he was, those other dragons were larger. He was going to get himself killed. Mer glanced at M'ta to see what he wanted to do. As much as she hated to admit, he seemed to understand the situation better than she. They both had a better chance if they stuck together and stayed smart.
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T'ke! Wake up now! T'ke mumbled incoherently as he slowly came to. Garaeth had never sounded so panicked before. What could possibly be wrong? With his mind still fuzzy and muddled, he had nearly forgotten the delicate situation he had so ungracefully dropped out of. He felt a tug on his hair and frowned deeply. Stop it, Garaeth. I'm awake already. No! It is not me! MOVE! NOW!
T'ke's eyes blinked open and came to rest on the knife as it drew towards his exposed throat. "YAAAAH!" T'ke cried out in surprise and panic. His long limbs went flailing in all directions as he squirmed in his attacker's grasp. By shear luck, one foot connected with the sensitive region between the man's legs. The stunned man howled and dropped T'ke with a bump to clutch his pants. Still have panicked, T'ke dove for the knife the man held. His only coherent thought was that he had to get it before the man recovered or he was as good as dead.
Unfortunately for both of them, T'ke was neither strong nor skilled. His fumbled grab for the knife actually pushed it down and into the man's thigh. Far from disabling the rider, the man growled with fury and struck T'ke down with his other hand. T'ke's face stung and he started to scramble backwards like a spider. The man was angry now and bearing down on him with his knife dripping in blood. T'ke's eyes were wide with terror. His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything that he could do to stop himself getting killed. How was he ever going to survive this?!
~
Farryl kept her eyes on Raylin. Now that F'rel was focused on T'rid, she took the chance to reach her knife. Slowly she started to part the ropes that bound her hands. She got a few cuts in the process, but that hardly matter under the circumstances. Her eyes blazed with fury as she watched with horror as F'rel bite off Raylin's finger. Bit it off?! Clearly this man wasn't just a bully, he was a madman as well! It was started to look like they weren't going to get out of this, no matter if she was free or not.
The attackers were started to move again and with a sickening feeling, Farryl realized what they were going to do. F'rel's knife was drawing close to Raylin's neck, even as his subordinates headed for the others with weapons drawn. Shards! He was going to kill them all! She couldn't fathom why none had moved for her. C'vin and C'oar seemed largely ignored as well. Yet, even if the three of them could manage to get free unnoticed, they others would be dead before they could help. Shard it! They needed more help!
As if in answer, a blast of anger and a stream of pictures entered Farryl's mind. She knew that form. Star! G'tor's tiny white salamandyr! The enemy, however, had no such knowledge. They were momentarily stunned and Farryl wasn't going to let this chance go to waste. She ripped the last thread of the rope and tore her hands free. A quick slash and her legs were free as well.
She could already see that C'vin was free and rushing for Ke'rin. Farryl took the initiative and ran for A'fyr. Star's distraction had bought her a few precious seconds and she wasn't going to waste them. If she could get the others free they might have a chance! Shrieking attack cries, her two fire lizards launched their attack on the man bearing down on A'fyr. Tille went straight for the man's face, clawing at his eyes and screaming madly. Hobbs when for his knife hand. He clung to the wrist and bit deep into the index finger.
Taking advantage of the confusion, Farryl reached A'fyr and quickly cut his bonds loose with her knife. They're wasn't time for words as the riders were fast recovering. A'fyr's attacker swatted angrily at the two fire lizards. Hobbs lost his grip on the mans arm and was flung forcefully into a wall. Now that his knife was free, he slashed and grabbed at Tille, catching her down her side and drawing a long line of blood. With a shrill cry of pain, the green pushed off and jumped between. Farryl fought back tears as she started to run to free some the others. She couldn't tell if her darlings were alive or dead. But she would not let the chance they gave be for nothing.
~
Having forewarning of Star's actions, G'tor was ready when the first pictures started to come. It was working! G'tor wanted to kiss Star and smoother her with treats. G'tor tugged at his bonds, trying to get his hands free. I'fael had tied them loose, and if there was one thing a fishing hold man knew, it was knots. With his attacker stunned, G'tor charged forward in a haphazard tackle that drove his head into the man's stomach. Temporarily winded and struggling under the brownrider's sudden weight, G'tor used the bought seconds to finally pull his hands loose.
Just in time, as the attacker tried to drive his knife into G'tor's neck he caught it and started to wrestle it free. What followed was a tense tug-of-war in which the knife grew dangerously close to G'tor's neck. Finally, G'tor's strength won out. He tore the knife from the man's hand and rolled off to free his feet. It was a mistake. The Bendan rider had found G'tor's knife on his belt and drawn it. Having forgotten the presence of a second weapon, G'tor was unprepared for the attack. He barely had time to keep the blade from going through his heart before the man was on top of him.
G'tor felt a sharp pain and looked down to see that though he had managed to keep the knife from killing him, it had slashed down his chest and driven into his belly. He could taste the tang of blood on his lips as red started to creep into his vision. But the man's weapon was occupied once more and G'tor brought his blade up and plunged it to the hilt into the exposed chest. The man grunted in surprise and his eyes glazed. It took the last of G'tor's strength to roll the body off him.
G'tor lay in on the ground breathing hard. He knew if he didn't move, he was a dead man, but he just didn't have anymore in him. Most of the wound was superficial, but the knife had penetrated into his stomach far enough to cause him more pain than he had felt in his life. It was a miracle that it had missed vital organs, but that wouldn't matter if he couldn't get help soon. He would just bleed to death. If the Bendan riders didn't kill him first. Star had calmed and stopped her mental tirade to nuzzle him in distress.
Tor! Are you there?! Speak to me! Ruskeath's panicked voice entered his mind. He knew that the brown must feel his pain. G'tor felt a surge of motivation. He had to live! Ruskeath was counting on him! He had promised on the day he had nearly died of poison that he would never do anything like that again. I'm here, he mumbled. He rolled over and started to get on his hands and knees. With one hand clutching his wound, he moved as best he could away from the chaos of battle. Hang on, Tor-mine! Ruskeath encouraged. Help will come! Not soon enough for me, G'tor muttered. If he survived this, he was getting training in knife fighting. No matter how much he hated it.
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Tashe
Shiny Hoarder
Weyrwoman Kaegan Dragonhealer E'rro Rider K'thay Woodcrafter E'iah Healer Raylanne Healer Ithanna Harper Zemaren [color=0BDA5
"When the Butterfly emurges, does the caterpillar no longer exist?"
Posts: 1,401
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Post by Tashe on Apr 19, 2009 21:02:07 GMT -5
Out of no where, he felt something catch his legs, as if he had gotten caught in a stagnant undertow. But it became all to clear a few moments later. Without the use of his legs, the Brownrider had limited reaction space to the second person, moving his arm to absorb the slash. Steel bit into his arm and a sickening cloud of blood diffused through the water in front of him, the cold lessening some of the pain, but not all of it. Using the palm of his other hand, F’rah thrust it toward the man’s nose in the brief opening between the slash and the with drawl of the weapon. He needed to get room between him and the man, and some how, he needed to get the damned accomplice off of his legs. He couldn’t do much at all, the leg-hugger’s overall weight brought him dangerously close to the surface of the water and because of that, his striking range was lacking.
Jerking backward, the Brownrider tried to dislodge the second person while doing his best to keep a tab on the other man. Water wasn’t exactly his element. Then an idea struck him. Taking a breath, F’rah pulled his legs to his chest and sunk under the surface, he let out some of his air to sink even farther down. Pulling his knife from his belt, he struck downward at the arms around his legs before kicking as hard as he could to break free of the grasp. Wincing as the movement jostled his injury, the Brownrider did his best to move as far backward as he could before surfacing with a deep breath, the first Bendenite was most likely still above him.
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“F’raaaaag.” She felt the arm slip around her neck, instinctively taking in as much air as possible before she was dragged under. Panic over took her as her attacker tightened their grip around her neck and encircled her lower half with their legs. Trying to pull the arm away from her neck proved an impossible feat, her attempts at loosening it ended up in expended energy. Her lungs, not used to the combination of fear and being underwater at the same time, were burning horribly. It was then she realized, her hands and arms were free. How stupid of her.
Continuing her clawing motions at his arm, Saraina pretended to strain upward mainly to block his view of her own hands. Drawing the knife from her wrist sheath, the Bluerider wasted no time in plunging it into the man’s side with the arm around her neck, dragging it as far toward her as the man’s reaction time allowed. Pushing against the man afterward, trying to use his body and her strength to get as far away as she could. She needed air. /Minemine! Are you okay? You feel fuzzy!/ Angling toward the surface, the Bluerider gasped as she broke the surface. She tried to slow her breathing after the first initial breath, knowing that now was really not the time to let the panic take over. Slowly treading water in a small circle, Sara wanted to make sure her attacker didn’t fake her out if she went to check on F’rah. Drawing a second knife, this time from her belt, the Bluerider stuck it between her teeth with a quick movement so as to keep her hands as free as possible. /Mine!?/ I'm okay, for now. Shh... I need to concentrate.
---
Wheeling back around as he felt his Humanpet’s feelings take a drastic change for the worse, Scipio bristled as he watched her dragged under the wet stuff. Eyes turning red, the Blue changed his course, flapping over to the spot where she disappeared. Circling slowly, he lashed his tail in agitation, she was still alive but he couldn’t save her! Spinning around to see his female’s friend go under the surface too, Scipio barred his teeth at the only person above the water. First his Human and now the silly male! How dare they! The Baddies were going to pay! Flapping his wings hard, the Dark Blue angled his body straight at the male human’s head, his claws outstretched as he impacted with the man. Pushing himself off into the air, Scipio climbed high enough to be out of the range of the baddy’s sharp metal claw. He might not be as big as a Dragon but he could at least distract the baddy until the Goodman or his Human surfaced. He knew that the wet stuff made other Firelizards slower than in the air or on the ground, so he guessed that the wet stuff would do that to a Baddy too. Twirling around, Scipio made another pass, this time he made sure to pass behind the Baddy. Doing his best to avoid the Metal claw.
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Post by nightingale on Apr 19, 2009 22:34:01 GMT -5
As soon as his wrists were tied and I'fael moved on tot he next unfortunate captive, Ke'rin set himself to work trying to free himself. Try using your teeth mine. I can't Jay, they would notice. But you haven't got claws. How are you going to get those bindings off of you?I don't know...I'll think of something...
But nothing came. Raylin lost a finger and all he could to was stand there, his pale eyes diamond-hard as he tried to fight against his restraints as invisibly as possible. The Benden riders came next -one to every weyrling F'rel had deemed useless to their cause. Ke'rin couldn't bring himself to be afraid as his respective executioner drew near. He simply watched the man with still, desolate acceptance. Jaymith, I love you. I'm sorry that it needs to end like this. No, it will not end like this! We are a team Ke'rin-mine, and I am coming for you! Jaymith keened, his voice vicious and full of desperation.
But before the young bronze could act upon his instinctive need to protect his rider, Star intervened. The boy wasn't sure what to make of the startling image as it flashed into his mind. A white salamandyr? Who did it belong to? What was it playing at? And then all at once he realized that his attacker had been stabbed full of holes, and that chaos had once again flooded the weyrling barracks. Quickly Mine! Use the sharp metal! Kei had wasted no time in freeing the dagger at his side, and even as his dragon's suggestion reached him he set to work awkwardly attempting to free himself before anyone else decided to take a swipe at him.
Saeo's view of her roommate's torment would have optimal in almost every way, save for the fact that she spend the majority of the sickening display half-blind from being cuffed upside the head. It wasn't that she was particularly stupid and didn't realize that the more she screamed, the more she would be struck, but she was desperate to do anything in her limited power to make herself a more appealing target than Raylin was. Unfortunately, moving and screaming became less and less appealing as she started to taste blood, and the ringing in her ears -which had previously vanished after only a few seconds of discomfort- failed to take it's leave. By the time T'rid came into the picture, she was barely conscious.
And then came a roar, accompanied by smear of blue and a wind that smelled of the river. The next thing Saeo knew, the weyrling barracks was reaching up to give her a big, hard, dusty hug. Because she was significantly lighter than her captors, Kindreth's charge sent her flying a good distance farther than it did the Benden riders who had been holding her. Her sensed returned quickly, and the girl took stock of the facts that she had lost most of the skin on her left arm and knees to the rocky ground, that she was otherwise unharmed, and that she had landed in convenient proximity to a discarded knife.
She snatched it up, and at the audible request form someone she couldn't quite identify and her own sense of self-preservation, ran for the line of dragons.
The girl didn't fool herself into thinking she could take on a pair of fully grown men she they decided to chase her, but thankfully the riders who had been playing her guards seemed far more involved with picking themselves up and dealing with the rest of the fighting that had broken out. When she was twenty feet from the safety of Jaymith's forelegs, Saeo spotted T'ke. It was probably some poisonous mixture of adrenaline, hatred, disgrace and rage that fixed the idea in her mind, but the moment it flickered to the front of her thoughts both Freckle and Baby took up the battle cry. MAULMAULMAULMAULMAUL!!! From da Weyr and from da Bow, Bronze and brown and blue and green!
Baby was the faster of the two salamandyrs, and so scurried valiantly across the floor to place himself between the blueweyrling and his assailant. He hopped up onto T'ke's shoulder, displaying his massive frill and hissing for all his tiny frame was worth. The rider was so busy being darkly amused by the blue's show of misplaced courage that he didn't even notice Freckle until she was at eye-level. By the time he did notice her, the little green had his eyelid in her teeth and was pulling. The fragile skin tore like old parchment and drew a horrified scream of pain from the rider as his hand flashed up to crush her against the side of his head. Saeo then entered striking range.
"What is the matter with you people!?" The girl shrieked, plunging her dagger into the rider's back between two ribs. The momentum she put into the strike forced him the the ground, aided by the fact that he was rapidly going into shock. Freckle hit the ground with a bloody plop, and scurried away to feast on the macabre souvenir she had taken for herself. "Why did you do it? WHY?!" She gave her knife a twist when no response came from the now mortally wounded man, and was rewarded with a choking gasp. She was crying. "You could have just stayed at your own Weyr! You could have said no! WHY didn't you just say no?! Now you're going to die after being stabbed in the back by a little girl, and you're going to drag your dragon Between with you!! How does that feel!? WAS IT SHARDING WELL WORTH IT?!" He is dead Mine. Hearing her dragon's somber voice stirred something in the blueweyrling, and she suddenly became aware of the blood spattered across the front of her previously white nightgown. The body beneath her was still and rigid. Cold horror splashed her heart with ice. I'm a beast Cherilith. I'm no better than any one of them now. Come to me my Saeo. Bring Garaeth's T'ke with you.
"Come on." She murmured numbly, prying her knife free of it's bloody sheath and somehow finding the strength to drag herself upright. Saeopet? Mine puppylove? Baby guess you never know? The blue slamanadyr's voice was questioning as he leaped onto the scarlet-smeared hand his mindmate offered to T'ke. A quiet storm was rumbling in her cloudy grey eyes. "I can't promise I'll be able to do that again, so stay safe."
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Apr 20, 2009 4:11:13 GMT -5
Sharding thread-loving mother... He released the girl's wrist because he knew his grip would be broken anyway, slashing across her chest from shoulder to lower ribs as deep as he could pull the blade, even as he spun around to bring his elbow into T'rid's ribcage at full (likely bone-crushing) force. But before he could finish the Wingleader off, one of the idiot weyrlings jabbed at him with a pointy stick. Yes. A pointy stick. His arm came up along the flat and pushed the thing just enough aside that it grazed past him, right arm following with an upward jab that would drive through the groin and into the lower intestines...had the kid still been there. He growled angrily through his teeth as the blade slid upward through the diving I'fael's calf instead. Trilyanth. The bronze had arched his back and neck away from Morendoth to avoid the flashing jaws, and didn't respond verbally.
Knowing that in the next couple of seconds the brown would be dead, F'rel turned back to T'rid who still had his hands full with the bleeding little girl. What, was she special to him? He stepped forward with the intent to bury the knife in the bronzerider's spine...and then something struck his lower calves and sent him rolling. Spluttering, the man was up again, eyes darting, his face red with fury. The Selenitas riders were so sharding incompetent they were somehow managing to survive him entirely through sheer luck and idiocy! With a roar of fury he turned and cut down a pretty little blonde man who probably had a pair the size of peanuts, blood frothing his mouth as Ch'ero's collapsed lung filled and the liquid began to strangle him.
**
Face still smeared with residual blood from the finger that had smacked him right between the eyes - thank you T'rid for the lovely gift - F'ur grunted as his writhings took him straight through the churning feet and into a pair of calves, toppling the man. He couldn't be sure who and didn't care. Another foot caught him a blow to the side and he was literally airborne for a few feet, landing on top of another set of bodies. Great. Corpses. He slid his bound wrists over the hand with the knife, slashing through the ropes, and only then noticed that no, these weren't corpses. Blinking for a moment at I'fael and one of the weyrlings, he suddenly burst into a broad grin. "Don't mind if I do." Snatching up the blade, he freed his ankles and tossed it back at C'oar. "So sorry, blokes. Hi and bye and all that." He planted one on the brownweyrling as a way of saying 'thanks' and bounded up to enter the fray.
So much better when you weren't squirming around like a sharding worm!
A glance toward the line of weyrlings showed two distressing things. Less distressing, one weyrling had stabbed a Benden rider in what looked like a nasty, crippling - though not fatal - wound, while the other struggled to free himself. They had, however, two more buggers bearing down on them. It was the ten flooding in from the flank to bolster the ranks, cover the Wingsecond and make quick work of the riders and weyrlings that had him concerned. Well, one problem at a time.
He bent into his knees, sprinting on the balls of his feet and launching himself into a flying two-legged kick that took one of the riders threatening Ke'rin and C'vin full in the chest. They'd have to handle the wounded one and the second healthy rider on their own for the moment. The move was a stunning one, but only if the enemy wasn't prepared. This one rolled with the kick despite the ribs F'ur must have cracked and pinned the lighter bluerider to his back. The knife slashed downward and F'ur caught the man's wrist in his hands, snapping it and grinning almost manically as the knife thumped against his chest harmlessly from the Bendenite's loosened grip. He viciously headbutted the man, followed by a jab that crushed his larynx. He died instantly. "On your four!" F'ur cried to C'vin, thrusting aside the heavy corpse.
**
M'ta only flicked a glance at Sel'n. Not out of any disrespect or disdain for the Weyrlingmaster, but because the man hadn't surprised him coming down from the tree. Jabari was an amazingly good scout...except where it came to blue dragons, it seemed. He frowned at the brownrider and shook his head in silence. Jabari, flaming? M'ta wouldn't risk the firelizard. In fact, if anything happened to the brown during the fight, it would probably throw him off, maybe enough to get him killed. Better to leave well enough alone.
A sudden burst of imagery, and then a very loud voice screaming 'now' in his head, had M'ta jumping nearly a foot. Kindrith rushed past so fast the young man thought he'd be swept clear off his feet. What the shards?! The idiot blue was seriously taking on that bronze? If he'd had a spare moment, he would have cursed Kindrith, but as it was that sudden exit had drawn unwanted attention. M'ta spun, caught Mer's arm and thrust her ahead of him. How sharding many? Jabari had five pegged, sprinting through the trees. "Run," he hissed, pushing at the small of her back to get her moving, before he cast a glance back at Sel'n. "Get moving, 'cause I'm not making a stand here and you can't take five all alone."
The boy darted into the trees, sprinting ahead of Mer before dropping back to wave them on, into a glade where he swung up into a tree and extended a hand down to yank the candidate up with him. Panting, M'ta stilled. He leaned close to Mer, to whisper beside her ear. "They come underneath, we drop. Try to kill him with one strike." His heart was thundering, and he wasn't sure where Sel'n was in all the chaos, but as the five emerged at a trot he leapt down, riding the man down and stabbing him through the throat before rolling to his feet with both daggers at the ready.
Behruth was not at all amused. The blue was not only acting very, very stupid, which Behruth had next to no tolerance for anyway, but Kindrith had endangered M'taHis! His voice snarled into the much older dragon's mind. What were you thinking, attacking such a big bronze?! And now Mine is in danger, with Kaaoloth's and a hatchling! You'd better hope that the bronze eats you, because if he doesn't I'll kill you myself! He wouldn't, of course, but that didn't change the fact that he was very, very angry and might have tried if he could reach Kindrith just at this moment.
**
Having already pulled back slightly to avoid Morendoth's jaws, when Trilyanth saw the blue barreling straight for him he merely continued the motion, rearing up and turning slightly. Kindrith's weight struck him solidly in the side, the bronze pivoting so his front legs thundered to earth just to the right of Morendoth, his hinds still firmly in place. Tail lashed out at the blue, his head angled up and back to avoid still more searching jaws. What was it with these dragons and his neck? Growling thunderously, he lashed out at Kindrith with a leg, seeking to shred the blue's wing with the clawed foot where it rested against the dragon's side.
Trilyanth caught sight of the jump and moved toward Morendoth while keeping most of his attention on Kindrith, whom he planned to tear to tiny pieces for daring to attack him. This shortened the brown's jump up, sending the creature solidly into Trilyanth's side instead of on his back and the bronze swung his body about with the movement. The brown slid down his flank and nearly into the gathered weyrlings near the entrance. Backing up, he growled at Kindrith and Morendoth, slashing out with a clawed foot in an attempt to keep them at bay. Large as he was, two on one still wasn't the best odds.
**
The blade barely caught skin, but it dislodged her just enough that her grip was lower, freeing up his knees enough that he could kick free of her. Staying beneath the surface as long as her breath would allow it, she didn't pursue him immediately upward. Her companion was, indeed, distracted by the firelizard. Without purchase for his feet it was mostly hit and miss with the dagger, and as the firelizard passed a second time he splashed the water up in its flight path, trying to twist to keep it in front of him. The wave hit the creature hard enough that it would probably be in the water in a second...or at least disoriented. He saw the girl's head pop up and dove down, waiting for a good time to make his move.
He'd twisted away from her stabbing motion, but it still caught him in the side, and she'd probably gotten something vital. He released her, trying to ignore the pain as he stroked up after, pulling his own dagger and driving it up toward her leg with an intent to cripple.
The woman finally drifted upward, watching the kicking legs of the brownrider as she let herself rise naturally. Moving swiftly, her arms slipped beneath his armpits and looped over his shoulders, clamping at the base of his neck, and she drove a knee hard into his kidney.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Apr 20, 2009 10:46:39 GMT -5
Merridan needed no second bidding. As soon as M'ta grabbed her arm, she was running full tilt after him. She was vaguely aware that another Selenitas rider was with them now, but she had no idea where. All she knew was that five very angry men were chasing after them. Though she would never admit it, Mer was actually quite a bit frightened. Though she had been training all her life, she had never had to fight real people before. She wasn't sure she was going to like this at all.
Dodging through the trees, she grasped M'ta's arm and heaved herself up next to him. She could hear the riders coming behind them and crashing through the underbrush. She nodded at M'ta's instruction, and tightened her grip on her dagger. It was now or never. They weren't going to get another chance. A shadowy figure passed under her and she jumped. Mer's dagger plunged deep into the man's back as she landed on him. He collapsed soundlessly and she tried not to think about what she had just done.
There were still three more enemies to deal with, and they had lost the element of surprise. Mer jumped free of the fallen man and turned. No! There was another one! How had he gotten so close? In the dark, Mer could only tell the difference between M'ta and the enemies because he was so much shorter. She had no way of identifying riders she had never met. Acting on pure instinct and training, she slashed at Sel'n's torso. Fortunately, she hadn't had enough preparation to get a proper strike, so she only wounded him at best. Even so, this wasn't going to be one of her proudest moments when she realized what had happened.
~
T'ke didn't know what was worse: almost being killed by a Bendan rider, or watching Saeo go crazy as she killed him first. He had watched the scene play out with wide eyes and open mouth. It was almost as if what was happening wasn't even real. That couldn't be Saeo? Shy little Saeo who impressed a blue? He didn't even notice her salamadyrs perching on him. He was in too much shock.
When it was over, he found himself staring blankly at her bloody hand. He swallowed audibly and nodded. His eyes were still popping, but he managed to climb shakily to his feet. "Um..thanks...um..." he managed to stammer out. He had to keep his gaze fixed anywhere but the bloody mess of a rider she had left on the floor and not to mention the blood she was now covered in. He knew he should be grateful, and he was sure he would be later. Right now he was in too much shock.
No! He would not faint again! Everyone probably thought he was pathetic right now. Heck, he even thought he was pathetic. But they couldn't afford to waste anymore time. Saeo was an apprentice healer. In fact, she was the only healer they had right now, which made her one of the most important people in the room. T'ke couldn't let her go on alone. No matter how terrified he was or how much he just wanted to crawl behind Garaeth and collapse.
"Come on." T'ke's voice was still shaky, but had a little more confidence. "You need to get to Raylin before she bleeds to death." He didn't think it would be as simply as it sounded. He just hoped they could manage it before it was too late. And without getting themselves killed in the process. And without me fainting again, he noted darkly.
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Rei
Administrator
Rider Cr'oph Rider Er'ani Rider Elysia Rider/Healer Erilena Wherhandler Sydney Holdbrat Emitre Holdbrat Dileina Weyrbrat Elias Weyrbrat Terilyn
Woooo~ I am a fox!
Posts: 3,021
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Post by Rei on Apr 20, 2009 13:18:17 GMT -5
As Raylin was jerked forward by T’rid, she felt F’rel’s knife touch her skin right between her breasts. She cried out as the knife entered through her shirt and was drawn around her left breast down to the bottom of her rib cage. The wound got deeper as it went, but it wasn’t deep enough to damage organs due to the barrier her night shirt provided and the angle she was drawn forward at.
Stumbling towards T’rid she impacted against him as the pain exploded in her chest leaving her gasping. “Sorry..” The green weyrling muttered as her legs buckled and her world went black. Who she was speaking to was unclear at the moment, though it was entirely likely she was speaking to both the bronze rider and her own now frantic green dragon.
Raymine! NO! No! No! Please stay awake. Stay with me! No! Ebolath’s mental scream was given to all those who would listen. The small green increased her efforts to pull away from her blue clutch brother, a pitiful keening escaping her throat. If only she could get to Rayhers. Couldn’t they see she needed her. Oh her beautiful Raylin. They would pay, they would all pay. Suddenly a weight was pressed against her and she snarled. Mallowth was pinning her to the ground, keeping her from rushing to her death. Keening again she reached for T’rid’s mind.
Please T’rid, please. Save Raymine. Please don’t let the black have her. I need her, please. Ebolath infused her tone with as much pleading as she could, her eyes a mix of red, yellow, and white, as she shared pain with her bonded. Another keen escaped and she renewed her struggle against the blue, claws gouging the earth, head whipping back and forth. Not hers. Please not hers.
----
M’ta’s comment was taken with a nod as the Weyrling master sprinted after the two younger fighters, intending to protect their backs as best as he could. Pulling off the path slightly he let their opponents pass him up and resumed the chase to attack from behind. Unfortunately for him, the rider he was going after was struck down by Mer. As Sel’n started to pull up, the confused lass swung around and slashed at him. Grunting under his breath, as the knife slit his sling and came into contact with the injured arm he kept strapped to his chest, the rider danced backwards.
“Not your opponent miss.” His voice was not accusatory merely flat. Thankfully only a mild twinge was felt in the arm, as most of the nerves had been severed long ago. For once he was thankful for his injury.
The blood flow would need to be stopped later. Right now the older rider had no time, as another Benden rider was quickly bearing down on the twosome. Flinging Mer to the side as the other rider brought his blade down Sel’n parried the blow and drug his belt knife down the other man’s weapon with a screech of steel on steel.
With a quick jerk he disarmed the man and at the same him aimed a kick at his knee. When the rider buckled Sel’n brought his knife up and cleanly slit his throat before swinging around to search for another opponent, mind completely concentrated on surviving.
---- Kaaoloth rumbled at the two arrivals and gestured with a wing tip to the firestone. Go ahead little cousins. There is plenty for you. Fill you second stomach with flame and hasten back to Corinth. He will be waiting for you.
The brown suddenly flinched as he felt a flash of discomfort from his. Rather than speak the brown pressed a wave of reassurance on his rider and touched Corinth’s mind. The little ones will be finished shortly. I am sending them back to you. Good luck to them and you as well bronze Corinth.
The brown swung his head around as another fire lizard popped into his weyr, this one a bronze. Hello little cousin please go ahead and gather your flame. Hero chirped to the big brown and preceded to crunch as much firestone as his second stomach could handle. Giving a flute as thanks to the brown, he launched back into the air and disappeared between.
Good luck little ones. The brown whispered to his now empty weyr. Hopefully his small interference would do at least some good. Settling down on his couch he began to crunch the second sack, whirling eyes never leaving the dragon ledge entrance.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Apr 20, 2009 15:47:24 GMT -5
He'd let go. Unfortunately, T'rid had almost hoped that F'rel wouldn't -- he was pretty sure his momentum would ensure that he'd end up with Raylin, and if he tried to hang on, his hands would be occupied. The metallic scent of blood that spurted, however, was not in his plan, and the bronzerider spared a minute to curse. Raylin -- but not her throat. At least her throat was largely intact, save for the smallest cut. And then F'rel's elbow slammed into his ribcage. He'd kind of seen it coming, and he'd started to step back, but his reaction time simply wasn't as good as a trained Benden fighter's. The force of it sent him staggering backwards, his grip around Raylin's waist making sure that she came along for the ride, too. He wasn't sure how much of the pain around his chest was the first impact, and how much of it would stay with him, but the difficulty drawing breath was definitely not good. And then Raylin fell against him, and he couldn't help the groan as her weight caught him along his chest and ribs.
Sorry? Uh, yeah...he merely exhaled sharply in response, but as she entirely collapsed, T'rid uttered a hiss of surprise -- which turned into a hiss of pain as he instinctively held her weight up with his own body. Owow...chest. How badly injured? He wasn't sure. At the very least, a cracked rib. Probably more than one. The sharp initial pain had faded into a steady ache, which sharpened with each movement, and drawing breath still wasn't easy. As he dragged Raylin backwards, away from F'rel, he vaguely wondered why he wasn't dead yet, flicking a glance towards the Weyrsecond as he shifted Raylin's dead weight to one arm, tearing a strip of fabric away from the hem of his shirt and wrapping it around Raylin's -- gap. Where her finger used to be. The cut on her chest would just have to hold, because he really couldn't wrap anything around there, and even the one around her finger was a makeshift project, since he was quite certain he'd have to defend himself -- and her -- in five seconds flat.
He spun, and...promptly squinted in surprise at the sight of C'oar and I'fael on the ground near F'rel -- what? -- and the bronzerider cutting down one of the Selenitas riders that T'rid didn't recognize. Great. Great, just great. He'd turn on T'rid in a second, and really? T'rid needed to put Raylin somewhere first. Somewhere safe. His first thought was Ebolath, but he couldn't pass by Trilyanth, Kindrith, and Morendoth without possibly being accidentally or intentionally (depending on the dragon) squashed. 'lathpet, is MINE, Stupid declared loudly, his claws digging into Raylin's pants as the Salamandyr snaked up to her shoulder, frilling defiance. Uh, definitely not good enough. T'rid spun (wince), half-dropping and half-sitting the greenweyrling against a wall. Obviously you didn't want your back pressed against a wall in a fight -- it gave you nowhere to go. But he needed to defend the weyrlingrider, too, at Ebolath's request, and that was too hard if he didn't have something to make sure nobody jumped on his back.
Someone else. Not F'rel. But a Benden Rider, and clearly confident of a victory. T'rid really didn't want to crouch. At all. The motion made his chest throb and he almost panicked when breath was not easily drawn. His knife -- longer than T'rid's; he had the advantage there, as if T'rid needed another strike against him -- slashed downwards and abruptly, as T'rid moved to block it, the man's left hand came up, blade aimed towards T'rid's throat. Instinctively, he ducked, hissing audibly as a wave of pain made itself known through his chest, hand shooting up to block the blade, and pain lanced across his left palm. Apparently felines and Benden Riders were the same: Left palm was a key target, or something. This time, however, the pain wasn't the most noticeable thing. He couldn't...feel his fingers. It wasn't entirely accurate: He could still feel his pinky, first finger, and thumb. His middle and ring fingers, however, were...gone. Nerve damage -- fun!
The Benden brownrider's left blade shot out --
-- and abruptly, stopped, the man yelping in alarm as twin tongues of flame licked along the steel. Conspiracy and Mir. The brown and blue firelizards hissed, and then Mir looped up and over T'rid's shoulder, landing carefully on Raylin's leg and puffing another flicker of flame, daring anyone to come near. Yesyes, flame flame, Stupid crooned excitedly, as Conspiracy hissed out another tongue of flame at the brownrider. One knife came up to deflect the flame, but T'rid had already lunged forward, mentally thrusting Conspiracy towards Raylin, nearly whimpering in the pain as his foot hooked around the brownrider's leg again, jerking him backwards. As his balance was ruined, one blade hissed through the air in his flail, cutting through T'rid's shirt, and dragging a long, thin scratch along the bronzerider's ribcage as T'rid plucked it from his hand, jamming his heel onto the man's foot and throwing his old, shorter knife. The blade buried itself into the man's chest, and T'rid half-smirked, right hand curling around the longer dagger as he backed towards Raylin again, who now had Conspiracy, Mir, and Stupid around her, the brown firelizard sitting on top of her head, silently, Mir equally quiet on her leg, and Stupid proclaiming loudly that 'lathpet, flame keep issa miiiine, from her shoulder.
Thank you, Kaaoloth.
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Post by ladybug on Apr 20, 2009 21:14:12 GMT -5
A'fyr cowered, ready for the man to regain his senses and attack him, but then two creatures divebombed him, screeching out their anger. Firelizards! GOGOGO! Good flitterpets! Beauty called, encouraging the flitts and extending her tiny frill as far as it would go. A'fyr mouthed a silent "thank you" to Farryl as she cut his bonds, quickly wiggling loose as she ran away. Later, he would give her a proper show of gratitude. And there would be a later. A'fyr had to believe there was. Anger and disgust flared when the Bendenite slashed at Tille and tossed Hobbs away. Getting to his feet, A'fyr took advantage of the last moments of the man's distraction and ran at him, lifting his leg and kneeing him in the groin. All his life A'fyr had been taught that such a move was cheating, but this was hardly a fair fight. As the man went down, A'fyr wrestled the knife out of his hands.
He hesitated a moment, but knew there was no real choice here. Do it. Detaching himself from the moment and riding on adrenaline, he grabbed the man by the hair, forcing his head back, and slit his throat.
A'fyr dashed away before he could get a good look at his handywork, Beauty fast on his heels. He hoped the flitts were okay, but if they weren't, at least he could tell Farryl that revenge had been dealt. It's all right, A'fyr. No matter what you do, I will still be by your side,[/color] Rudolth said, sensing the coming guilt.
Thank you, Rudolth. A'fyr moved towards the barracks, intent on getting to his dragon, but then he found G'tor lying on the ground, bleeding profusely. "Shard it, brownrider you can't have Star save the day and then die on us..." The day was hardly saved, but he was trying to be encouraging. A'fyr was no Healer, but he had enough of a knowledge in first aid to do some good. Growing up around sharp farm instruments meant that he knew some things.
Not having any other cloth available, A'fyr stripped off his shirt. The Bendenites immediately stopped attacking, in awe of his sexiness. It wasn't like the thin fabric was protecting him any. "I'm going to try and stop the bleeding," he declared, partly just to keep G'tor's attention and stop him from passing out. Balling up the shirt, he pressed it firmly to the wound. Starpet not die! Beauty ordered the White.
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Post by dragon on Apr 20, 2009 22:30:00 GMT -5
Suddenly, sickeningly, C'oar had no idea which way was up. Nothing had worked as planned. Some other heavy body had impacted him, even as his wooden sword had been deflected. How ... ?! He landed with a hard grunt, before grunting again with the last of his breath when the body that had tackled him landed atop him. He didn't have any air left at all when a third landed atop that. What in Faranth's name was going on? Everybody dogpile on C'oar??!
Somewhat stuck, but unwilling to let go of his weapons, C'oar writhed. And then paused when he felt the familiar sensation of sawing on his knife. For the love of little green dragons! What was going on now??! He wriggled around enough to try and see, hoping to not earn a knife in the eye for his trouble. These guys were altogether too heavy for this mess. Two of them!!
Oh ... someone else. That other rider. Cutting himself free. And then stealing his knife!! C'oar grunted a protest, struggling to draw breath at all. It got thrown back, shortly enough, but now C'oar didn't have it. Considering the situation, that was rather rude. And dangerous. C'oar thrashed a little harder, trying to throw I'fael off. Only to get smooched by the self same rider that had stolen his knife.
What in Faranth's name?! What was wrong with the man??! In the middle of an all out battle, and he was de-arming the folks supposedly on his side, and then turning around and taking the time to kiss on people?! C'oar was certain that this fellow was missing all of his marbles. Pretty sure that was what had tripped up T'rid initially … not that said bronzerider had very many marbles, either. Between the two of them, the footing would be treacherous indeed, spilling their marbles all over the place.
"GERROFF ME!" C'oar grunted, finally, trying in earnest to draw a full breath. With a supreme effort, he threw the Weyrling master off of him, and scrambled to his feet. He slashed at the nearest Benden rider with his sword, catching him across the back of the skull and simultaneously breaking his neck. The rider dropped like a sack of potatoes on the feet of the weyrling he had been intending to kill just then.
Swinging around dangerously, C'oar growled. Seeing no other Benden rider in range at the precise second, he took a moment to grasp I'fael's arm and yank the man back to his feet. And then he snatched up his previously stolen knife.
T'rid had made off with Raylin. Good. At least she was away from F'rel, even if she wasn't entirely in the clear … even though she did need serious Healer care. At least she wasn't in danger of getting her throat slit at any nanosecond. Next… Saeo. It took C'oar a moment to locate her in the crazy fray. But she seemed ok. In fact, it looked like she'd just killed someone… maybe those weeks of lessons were paying off after all?
Turning, he saw F'rel kill yet another person, and that really made C'oar mad. But there wasn't much he could do about it. Nearby there were three dragons duking it out … no telling who would win that match. But it was clear that the easy way to kill that bronze was to kill the rider. Problem was… the last attempt to do that had gotten waylaid by everyone piling on him.
The Selenitas riders did not seem to be working very well, or coordinated at all, for dealing with this, and that was most annoying. C'oar, given the second to think, was aware that he was not a match for F'rel. But someone had to take him on! And his moment of surprise attack had been ruined. Flailing bodies, flashing knives, people screaming in pain and some in death… the whole scene was nightmarish. And seemed to slow to a standstill for a moment.
And then reality crashed back in. C'oar danced sideways to avoid getting his guts slashed open, and then cold-cocked the rider who'd tried to do it to him with the back end of his sword. He was actually quite shocked when the rider crumpled from the blow, knocked unconscious. Sidestepping the falling body, C'oar moved on. Time to defend his class. Even if he couldn't take on the ringleader himself, he could definitely do something about all the other men rolling around the area.
Kindrith huffed, when the charging blow did not have the intended effect. But his dung-head brown was up and moving, at least. Maybe together they could take down the bronze. And then he could deal with the brown… later. Much later. He had to secure his Weyr from all foreign browns and such first.
He bellowed as talons raked across his side, one of them even ripping a short tear into his wing. Leaking green ichor all over the place, Kindrith recoiled, and then launched forward again. He was in front of the Bronze, with no way of getting away. So instead of doing the typical thing that blues did when in that position (fleeing), he lunged forward again, jaws snapping. A veteran of almost thirteen turns of battle, Kindrith was aware that he was unlikely to win the battle. But with Morendoth there, the chances were better than nil. Jaws snapping at that bronze throat again, Kindrith was determined, even through repeated rakings, to get a hold of that spot. And choke the life out of the bronze. It was the only chance Kindrith had of winning … if he could get that silky throat.
Throwing all his weight forward, he yanked his front talons off the ground even as his hind legs flexed and bulged with the effort of shoving tons of dragon-mass. His, and his opponents alike. Raking forward with his own front feet, Kindrith was still focused on that bronze's neck. Slashing it would be nearly as good an offence as biting it! And Kindrith kept his talons sharp.
Storm flitted from one weyr to the next, looking for something, anything, that he could snatch up and use. And then he accidentally happened across Kaaoloth and his spilled stone. Diving upon the heap, the bronze flitter chewed hastily. And peeping a parting thanks, he snapped between again, back to the infirmary. Arriving over C'oar's head, the flitter divebombed at the nearest active attacker, and flamed the man full in the face, before raking at his eyes with all for sets of talons even as the man screamed. Fluttering away and blinking in and out of between, Storm lived up to his name, and did his level best to defend his pet.
From inside, Frosstyth bellowed again, frustrated and angry. He still wanted nothing more than to rush out there and defend his rider. But what was he to do???
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Apr 20, 2009 22:32:11 GMT -5
G'tor had only made it as far as the edge of the room before he collapsed again. He just couldn't go any farther. If he was lucky, the Bendans would be too busy to bother killing him off. Always assuming they didn't win and kill everyone anyway. And assuming G'tor didn't just bleed to death before a Healer could reach him. It was too many "ifs" and he was too woozy to contemplate them.
Star, still curled protectively around one ear, flashed a familiar face into his mind with a hopeful reassurance. G'tor blinked his eyes open wearily. What was the brown weyrling's name again. A- something. A'fyr. That was it. A'fyr currently had the honor of being G'tor's favorite person right then. "Didn't do much," he managed a weak smile. "Not much good now, am I?" He didn't think he'd been much help at all. First chance he got and he'd botched it by getting hurt. He was supposed to protect the weyrlings, not the other way around. G'tor winced and bit his lip as A'fyr pressed the makeshift bandage to his wound. Shards but that hurt! Why didn't anyone tell him being stabbed hurt so much?!
I told you help would come, Ruskeath said smugly. He was much calmer now that G'tor was being helped and he was confidant he would be alright. Yeah, yeah, G'tor mumbled back. Since you can obviously see the future, how about telling us how to get out of this mess? The dragon had no reply, but sent a strong sense of concern and assurance. I'll be fine now, Rusk. Thanks. Ruskeath seemed to think that was enough. He sought out Rudolth's mind and touch it with a brief, grateful message. Thank Yours for saving Mine.
Star looked up at Beauty her eyes a sharp yellow of concern. She was not, for once, thinking of food. A wave of emotion and confused images went to her fellow salamandyr. She was so worried. Why was Hers leaking red? Why was he fuzzy? Last time hers had nearly gone to the black with the big, brown worm. Star didn't like the black. It was cold and lonely. She didn't want Hers to go there. Would Beauty's person keep Hers from leaving?
~
Farryl had didn't have time to see how A'fyr handled himself now that he was free. She could only hope that he had enough sense to stay alive. Most of the other weyrlings and riders were already free and joining into the battle as best they could. Farryl was racing to reach the last three: N'lai, Z'ax, and T'rea. None of them seemed to manage to free themselves yet and riders were still coming at them. She had to get there first! A small part of Farryl's mind knew that it was hopeless. It was three on one, and she would never be able to reach them all in time. But she just had to try!
T'rea was closest. Like the others, his attacker had paused in confusion to blink the strange images from his mind. Then he had shaken his head and turned back to his prey with a malicious green. Southern fools! They would need more than petty tricks to defeat Bendan might! The rider loomed over T'rea, who was still bound tight and curled on the floor. The young green rider watched him approach with shier terror in his eyes. He didn't want to die like this! The rider licked his lips. Helpless prey really was the most fun. He grabbed T'rea's hair and yanked him up to his knees.
That was when he spotted the girl running towards them. Well look at that. The little pet was trying to save her friends. This was going to be more fun than he thought. T'rea's desperate eyes pleaded with Farryl to hurry as he squirmed desperately. Then the rider met her eyes with a horrible grin of satisfaction. Without a second thought, he slashed the knife across T'rea's throat. The poor boy didn't even get a chance to scream. Blood streamed from his neck as the Bendan rider dropped him to die in a growing pool of red. T'rea's wide eyes glazed over and went blank. From somewhere nearby, Rioth shrieked out her death cry. She leaped from the ground and vanished, never to be seen again.
Farryl screamed. First in shock and horror and then in pure rage. Throwing caution to the wind, she charged blindly at the man with only one thought on her mind. He had to die! She would kill him for that! She would destroy his smirking face! The man was ready for her now. He stabbed wildly at her chest, figuring to end her life quickly. Farryl dodged sideways and the blade met only the flesh of her left arm. She ignored the pain, it wasn't bad anyway. She was under his guard now and she would only get one chance. With all the force she could muster, she drove her blade into his torso.
She'd missed his heart, but at that point, it hardly matter. With a grunt of surprise, he slipped off her knife and crumpled into a heap onto the floor. He would die slowly, bleeding out from the wound and rasping from a punctured lung, but Farryl didn't care. T'rea was avenged and she had better things to do than offer mercy to his murderer.
Farryl turned and started to race towards N'lai and Z'ax. Once she took a few steps, however, the adrenaline faded and the knowledge of what she had done came fresh in her mind. Farryl had a strong desire to find a corner and throw up. But there just wasn't time. Trying to ignore the growing nausea, she started for the other two weyrlings. Please let her make it this time!
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Requiem
Weyrleader S'rei WM M?ta Rider A'nd Harper/Handler Dmitri Weyrbrat Miguel
Posts: 2,861
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Post by Requiem on Apr 20, 2009 23:05:40 GMT -5
This idiot blue was aggravating Trilyanth immensely. As Kindrith lunged forward the much larger bronze reared as well, bringing his front legs down with the full force of a fully grown bronze behemoth on the attacking blue. His claws raked into whatever flesh they touched, digging deep and flipping the blue, where they crashed again into his exposed underbelly. Then, he gathered his lungs and belched flame at Morendoth and the line of weyrling dragons behind the brown to keep them at bay - and hopefully char quite a few beyond recognition - as he dragged Kindrith back another few feet. His tail whipped in his agitation, smashing into N'lai's skull and literally scattering his brains in a grey explosion of brain matter, the tip just barely missing Farryl and sending her backward with the sheer force of the displaced air. Another spout of fire toward the hatchlings. With a snarl, he lifted a foot and swiped at Kindrith's side with enough force to send the blue into the air, likely to crash into the wall of the barracks.
Trilyanth didn't wait to see.
The bronze exploded into the air at the same moment as the adult dragons began swooping down, picking off straggling weyrlings and dragonriders who were lingering on the fringes of the fight. Claws bisected, some were eaten whole, a few grabbed to be dropped from the sky higher up. No, the dragons couldn't tell friend from foe in this lighting, but the Benden fighters had surrepitiously worked their way into a knot of fighters at the center, leaving the Selenitas weyrlings and riders in an outer ring. Anyone not engaged with a Benden dragonrider was likely to be slaughtered within the next minute or so. As one of the attackers sprinted for the last of the yet-bound weyrlings, a green broke cover.
Irylth was snatched by a blue, ichor spurting from several wounds. The dragon landed with a sickening crunch right next to A'fyr. Z'ax's agonized scream cut off in a gurgle, throat slashed. The man whirled, noting the battle between the bluerider, the blueweyrling, and two of his companions...and the struggling bronzeweyrling as yet not free. He strode over and snatched up the boy by his hair, dragging him bodily toward the knot of dragonriders. With a wicked snarl, he slashed through the kid's bonds and tossed him at the dragonriders' feet. "Fight, coward. Or will you just lie there and blubber?" the man sneered.
Two surged forward from the knot to stab at Ke'rin.
That's when the dragons' screams suddenly went silent, Benden attackers not currently engaged in a contest for their lives growing still. F'rel's voice cut through the sudden silence. "If you surrender, I might spare some of your lives. At this rate you'll just die pitifully."
***
Maybe it was because he’d shown himself first, or maybe they’d just sensed he was a threat when he turned to meet the woman quick-stepping forward with a swift jab, but M’ta sensed the man closing behind him as well. Daggers twirled once, flipping to lie flat against his forearms. Horizontal block. Vertical. Steel rang on steel twice, followed by the soft oomph of wind rushing from her gut as he buried a heel in the woman’s solar plexus. She staggered back a step. Right blade flicked down, the brownweyrling turning to his left and turning aside the blade that would have taken him in the lower back with his right-hand dagger. Left arm flung out with a slash at the man’s knees. First blood, but only a trickle. The man had jumped back just in time. M’ta crouched, her dagger whistling right above his head.
Left dagger flipped forward. Both knives met above his head, slashing downward in an x pattern and slashing the tendons in her elbow, her dagger dropping as she stumbled back with a cry and a spray of blood. M’ta tossed his left dagger up a short ways, catching it by the blade and whipping it hard at the man coming at him before twisting in his crouch to drive his remaining dagger straight up into the woman’s gut. She crumpled. Not dead, but soon to be. The man, however, had knocked aside the thrown blade with a slash of his dagger and struck out for M’ta’s neck, intending to sever the spinal cord at the base of the neck. By now the brownweyrling’s speed and skill were no longer a surprise, the boy crouching to spin back around, but the blade still slashed across his right cheekbone.
The man drew back warily, eyeing him. M’ta faked a step forward, gratified to see the dagger slide out in a stab for his chest, instead putting his weight on his hind leg. Roundhouse to the wrist, sending the man’s knife flying. Ball of foot down, pivot on planted foot into a 360, and he used the full momentum of the turn, the jump and the pivot of his hips to bring his heel into the man’s temple. The Bendenite dropped like a sack and M’ta fell to one knee, plunging his dagger into the man’s heart with a decided finality. The whole fight had lasted just under twenty seconds from the moment he rolled to his feet. That’s how it always was for M’ta – for good or ill. Some fighters, when evenly matched, fought forever. With him, it was whoever made the first mistake.
Glancing up, he saw Sel’n was bleeding and the rest of the attackers were down. “Nice, Mer.” She hadn’t chickened out. Another, lingering glance around, and he shoved his blades home without bothering to clean them. That could wait for later. M’ta quickly gathered the weapons of the downed enemies, tossing them at the feet of the other two. “If you can throw, that’s what I’d suggest. No time to be sneaky; they’ll be slaughtered against those numbers.” He didn’t want to know if he was getting any suspicious glances, so didn’t look up at the faces. M’ta straightened and pushed his blood-spattered hands down his shirt. “Um. Which direction?” he asked, a bit disoriented. The last time he’d fought for his life was…nearly two turns ago, and the blood was still pounding in his head.
The sudden cessation of screams from the edge of the trees unnerved him for a moment.
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