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 22, 2009 19:53:39 GMT -5
G'tor heard looked up to see the bronze dragon Kindrith into the sky. He knew that blue. He and Ruskeath had chased the same green many times. With a pang of lose, G'tor knew that the brave dragon would not live out this day. G'tor's mind was already fuzzy with lose of blood and it was hard for him to concentrate on more than one thing at once. He and A'fyr were struggling to make it too the barracks without getting caught. G'tor knew he was slowing the weyrling down, but he didn't think he could convince the boy to leave him after they had come this far.
G'tor's eyes widened. That Kindrith was falling was sadly no surprise. But he seemed to be falling right for them. "Move!" G'tor shoved A'fyr forward towards the barracks. Hopefully the boy could run fast enough. Unfortunately, this left G'tor without his human crutch. Clutching, his stomach, he ran as fast as he could, drawing on hidden strength and desperation that he didn't know he had. It was surprising what one could do when death seemed immenient.
Kindrith's body feel with a deafening thud, barely three feet behind the brownrider. The impact sent him tumbling forward in a haphazard roll. He landed in an uncomfortable heap a few yards away completely winded. The line of weyrling dragons loamed over him, but he didn't have the strength to crawl beyond it. Star had glided free on instinct and landing on him and pelted him with concern. He didn't even feel up to waving her off. His whole body felt sore all over and his stab wound was bleeding freely again. Heh, maybe I was better off as a flat cake, he mumbled blearily.
Do not say that, Tor-mine! Ruskeath insisted. He sounded worried and almost pleading. Rusk? G'tor's answer was muddled and confused. You're here? Of course, Tor-mine. I would never leave you. Mmm..good. G'tor drifted off. Squashed or bleeding out, it hardly seemed to matter anymore. So long as the weyrlings were safe.
~
Peppeth poked her head out from behind Jaymith. She was worried about her Farryl. She was not here. And dragons were dying and falling from the sky. What if one landed on her? One almost landed on Rudolth's and the other man. Peppeth looked at the man. He wasn't moving and red stuff kept coming from his belly. Peppeth knew that was not good.
Cherilith had said to bring injured ones to His, maybe if Peppeth couldn't help Hers, she could help this one. Small as she was, it was easy to sneak past the line of her larger siblings. She grabbed the man gently by his shirt and dragged him back with her. A small white worm set her angry pictures and threats not to touch him. Peppeth just blinked at it in surprise. I am helping, she explained. You will see!
Peppeth dragged G'tor as carefully as she could over to where Saeo was treating Raylin. Even being careful, the brownrider would probably have some new scrapes on his back when he woke up. Setting him down delicately, Peppeth looked at Saeo and Cherilith expectantly. Can Yours fix him? she asked Cherilith in a meek and hopeful voice. The red keeps leaking.
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Post by nightingale on Apr 22, 2009 21:00:53 GMT -5
A certain bluewewyrling, despite being as far back from the battlefield as possible, had not been standing idle. Saeo had obeyed the command to retreat quickly, moving to the left wing dormitories where they would at least be able to put some space between the enemy troops outside and the people who had managed to get themselves brutalized. Judging by what Cherilith was relying to her, the common room had been cleared out at a high cost. They'd lost at least four riders already, and a few more would not be far from joining their fallen comrades if they were not seen to promptly. She didn't ask for names because she didn't have time to mourn the faces attached to them. What she did have time for was tearing apart bedsheets -courteously supplied to her by Peppeth, who seemed more than willing to hop from room to room gathering them if it meant she was being useful. The girl fell into a sort of choppy rhythm of tearing and folding, absently taking in status reports from Cherilith on who was bleeding from where and how they were getting to safety. There was going to be blood. A lot of blood.
And having C'oar barking orders at her was not helping her nerves at all.
"Shardit C'oar, will you stop throwing your weight around and listen?!" She growled as her pent up agression was directed toward tearing a cotten pillowcase to ribbons. "T'rid is the highest ranking rider present. We listen to him first, then I'fael, and then Ke'rin. If they ALL die you have my permission to play the hero, but until that happens do what you're sharding well told!!" Morendoth is trying to stop the flames Mine. What are they lighting on fire? Did they bring timber with them? They are lighting...dead dragons mine. A blue and a green. "Dead dragons! How are you sharding well going to light a dragon on fire?!" She shrieked in frustration, more to herself than anyone else, but loud enough for the entire room to hear her. It wasn't impossible of course -doused in kerosene anything could burn- but a blue and green dragon were hardly fuel enough to fill an entire barracks with smoke. What about the ventillation shafts? It had to be a distraction or something. Their wingleader couldn't be so stupid...She chanced another glance in C'oar's direction, noting uneasily and for the first time that he was pratically soaked in his own blood.
Saeo nearly cursed herself out right then and there. Of course he was making no sense -the sharding idiot was probably going into shock from running around with half of his blood volume decorating the weyrling barracks. She rose from her place next to Raylin and Ebolath, wincing slightly as a patch of ragged skin stretched painfully across her kneecap. The girl then crossed over to where C'oar was standing and grabbed him roughly by the arm so he would hold still as she checked his pulse, then the pressed the back of her hand against his forehead. "Come on and sit down." She murmured darkly, tugging him toward the far wall where her roommate had been deposited. "You've lost too much blood and you're not thinking straight. I need to get some bandages on you. And you-" She shot a glare, and pointed in T'rid's direction. "Are next on my list. I won't force you to lie down, but you have to let me try to figure out while you're gasping for breath or you're going to pass out cold, smash your head against a rock and then I'll have to deal with R'wign chewing my leg off for not doing my job properly."
But then came another bloody destraction sufficiant to re-shuffle her priorities.
Mine, Ruskeath's G'tor is here. He has fallen, and seems to be unconsious. "Dragonshells...T'ke I need your help." She waited for the boy to reach her side, then nodded toward the pile of bandages she had been shreading. "Just like we learned in weyrling class, alright? Control the bleeding and keep him warm. If you can get a blanket on Trid while you're at it, all my admiration to you. I'll be over to take a look as soon as I can." She backtracked a few paces to where she had left Freckle guarding her bag -the little green was properly caked in dried blood by now, and hopped into an open pocket when the bag was moved- then shifted her attention to where Peppeth was wriggling from between Cherilith and Mallowth. "Easy Peppeth. Easy..." She breathed, wincing empatheticlly as she dragged G'tor down the hall like an overgrown rag-doll. The girl moved to his side quickly, giving the tiny green a brief but affectionate snuggle. Mine will try her very best Peppeth. Cherilith assured his clutchsister gently as his rider searched for a pulse. Thank you for being so brave.
Cherilith, tell Ruskeath to get him talking. She instructed her blue silently, tearing open the front of the brownrider's tunic when she failed to find any buttons. Anything at all. Have him recite a poem or describe a wing pattern or...or dragonshells, tell me what he ate for breakfast. Just don't let him fall asleep. "G'tor this is Saeo. Do you know where you are?" She hadn't yet managed to develop a 'healer voice' the like of which R'wign and Jeymayan often used, and so her words trembled slightly as she tried to wipe some of the blood away from the man's abdomen with half of a ripped pillowcase. It was the same sort of laceration Raylin had recived, only lower and deeper...and with a lot more blood. She used her bloodstained pillowcase in subsitution for a dressing and leaned her weight forward, trying to staunch the flow as best she could. "Peppeth, get me a blanket please." She murmured hurriedly, groping for another wad of fabric as the one she was using soaked through. Shardit, where was a snarky journeyman healer when you needed them?
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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 22, 2009 22:03:20 GMT -5
Merridan's heart clenched at Sel'n's words. She didn't know any of the names he listed, but she knew what they meant. These Bendan monsters would pay! Mer shook her head at M'ta and squared her shoulders in determination. "You can't get rid of me that easy. You're going to need all the help you can get. I'm staying!" She knew she might be killed, but that didn't matter. Without her help, they would be even worse off. They needed all hands if anyone expected to get out of this alive. And she didn't come here to be a candidate for Bendan!
The arrival of Kale and the fire lizards surprised her. She wasn't sure how the girl could help, but she had to admit the outfit was useful. She would have to remember to wear black next time she wanted to sneak out to fight invaders. Mer had never dealt with fire lizards much before, but she had seen them around. If they were willing to fight too, she was all for it. They could be fast and flying was a skill she would envy in the battle ahead.
When Sel'n started moving, Mer slipped after him before M'ta could argue further. She stopped at the tree line as the brownrider moved forward. She itched to jump out with him and take a stab at the waiting enemies, but she held her position. It wouldn't be long before they came for Sel'n and she would need surprise to help him. Mer held one of her newly acquired knives loosely in her hand. She was ready and waiting. Let the enemy make the next move.
~
T'ke groaned. Why were their supposed leader's such idiots? As Saeo had so pointedly mentioned, it would actually take a while for the bodies to catch fire and burn enough to affect them. The Bendan riders couldn't possibly hope to kill them that way, but the smoke and flame would cause them to panic. It certainly seemed to be working in that regard. Maybe they would even move in under the cover and finish the job. Who could fathom how their twisted minds worked?
T'rid's idea was just as laughable as C'oar's. "I like to see you throw a wet shirt over several tons of dragon!" he muttered darkly. If that was the best their "leaders" could come up with, then they were still just as dead as they were when this had started. Saeo's voice returned him to more important things. At least she was doing something useful.
He blanched at her when he heard what she wanted him to do. "Wha..?" he started, but too late. She had already ran off to treat some rider. Great. Just great. No what was he supposed to do? He wasn't trained for this kind of thing. Shards, he had fainted for Faranth's sake! He was surprised anyone expected him to be of use at all. He looked at C'oar uncertainly, then with more determination. Well he would be useful! Then at least he wouldn't have to think about how pointless it was, considering they were all about to die.
T'ke took C'oar by the arm and started to lead him back to Saeo's makeshift workstation. "Come on," he said firmly. "Let's do as the healer says before she screams our ears off." T'ke would never be known for bedside manner. Now, how was he supposed to get a blanket on T'rid? It would be a miracle if the fool wingleader ever sat down before he felt down.
Would you like me to sit on him? Garaeth offered helpfully. It would keep him warm and still. Um..you also might squash him. You're a lot bigger now than you used to be. Stay with the others and watch the entrance. Very well. But if you need me to... T'ke shook his head against the amusing image of his dragon sitting on T'rid. He considered the man for a moment, then grabbed a blanket and threw it at T'rid. "There!" he declared firmly. "No sense in dying from stubbornness." There were plenty of other ways to die at the moment.
~
Farryl shook herself firmly. She could mourn for Tille later. Right now, Ke'rin need their help. She wasn't going to let him die too. She took C'vin's hand and stood. Her leg throbbed a bit and the cut on her arm stung, but she ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to loosing Tille. She nearly jumped out of her skin when two dragons crashed to the ground, effectively blocking their escape. That wasn't good. Saeo was on the other side and Ke'rin needed her now.
She turned to F'ur and nodded. They had to keep moving, or they were easy targets. She ran a couple steps to keep up with the rider. Coming up beside him and C'vin she glanced at Ke'rin. He was completely out and his breathing was ragged. Moving him couldn't be good, but they didn't have a choice. She assessed him with a frown, then looked to F'ur. "Let me take him." Her face showed determination. "You'll need your hands free to fight." She knew both her successes so far had been lucky. She was unlikely to repeat them. It was better if F'ur was free to defend them. Even if Ke'rin would be very heavy to carry.
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Post by ladybug on Apr 22, 2009 22:14:02 GMT -5
A'fyr gasped, eyes widening as he watched the courageous blue tumble from the sky. He could tell the dragon wasn't going to make it. Then G'tor roughly pushed him along, and he moved just in time to avoid being crushed by a falling corpse, again. The dust stirred up by the blue hitting the ground made him cough and blinded him for a moment, and when he could see again, he found that G'tor had disappeared.
He whirled around, looking for the brownrider, and then breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Saeo tending to him. A'fyr continued into the barracks. He smelled smoke and realized that the Bendenites planned to smoke them out. A'fyr's shoulders hunched, and he sighed. One thing after another! This was like a nightmare he couldn't get out of. He clutched the knife, just taking a breather for a moment, hoping that some kind of solution could be reached.
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Post by glamourie on Apr 23, 2009 2:56:04 GMT -5
“H-He’s --”
Kalerary stammered for a moment before running across the glade. It was almost the last of her strength. Her legs hurt so badly that she wanted nothing more than to curl up into a little ball. She didn’t; instead, she swung her arms around M’ta’s waist and buried her face in the boy’s chest. It was obvious that she was upset, from the way that she trembled, and the tears that dripped down her face; they weren’t sorrow, but rather, anger and exhaustion welled into one. Selenitas was supposed to be safe, and it wasn’t, not with the evil Benden people there. She wanted to find her papa and Z’hin and curl up between them until the entire thing was over and she couldn’t. She couldn’t because they were in the infirmary, and she felt certain that the infirmary would be attacked. Which meant that there was absolutely nothing that she could do. Nothing. No where to hide.
“They hurt him. They cut him up, he was bleeding all down his face. Ellie - Ellie came to get me,” Kalerary said weakly, her fingers lacing behind M’ta’s back. She all but ignored his companion; the one she recognized was used as comfort, or as much as he could give. She was positively petrified, and for good reason. Running across the Weyr in a terrified flight wasn’t exactly easy. “I think they cut out his eye. He was really bloody, and there were two of them. I - I got them to chase me. They chased me, and they’re coming for me ‘cause of my papa. I don’t know where to go, there’s dragons everywhere and I can’t find a good place to hide. Papa and Z’hin are in the infirmary and I don’t know who else to turn to. Please help me find a place to hide.”
She was actually surprised at her own eloquence. Considering that Kale felt like she could faint at any minute, that she was able to explain anything was a miracle. She could fight - she could - but she didn’t want to. Natural instinct was fight or flight, and she was just one little girl. She knew better than to try and take on Benden all at once. Sense told her that wouldn’t work, and that her best chance for survival was to hole up somewhere out of sight. They knew she was there; they knew what she was wearing. If the evil man wasn’t still on her heels, he would tell the ones who sent him where she’d last been seen, and she knew better than most what the price of not finding a good enough place to hide in was. Her heartbeat thudded in her chest and she inhaled deeply.
Casting a glance toward Merridan, Kalerary crinkled her nose. Was it really a boy? She couldn’t tell. Her head cocked, and she looked up at M’ta before removing one of the knives from her belt. Carefully, she held it up in front of her chest. Protective. The knife was actually as long as her forearm and it was definitely one M’ta would recognize, considering it was favored by Ka’rys; obviously, it was also favored by Kalerary. More of a dirk than a dagger, it was obviously cared for, even visible in the darkness. “Please help me. I don’t want to have to keep running, my legs hurt - I came all the way from that greenrider’s weyr. The one in R’wign’s class…”
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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 23, 2009 11:41:24 GMT -5
M'ta shouldn't have been startled but...he was. Most people didn't touch him, much less throw their arms around him for comfort, and he only knew Kalerary from the infirmary, though of course he knew of her. The girl's answer to his question, however, made his blood freeze. His arms instinctively moved around her, snugging her tightly against him, and the feeling of someone clinging to him and weeping was, unfortunately, all too familiar, though it had happened rarely in recent turns. The first time she asked for his help he was too stunned to react. R'wign...lost his eye? It was cut out? The child was a brave one, to draw their attention away like that.
Staring down at the knife, M'ta worried his lip lightly between his teeth, casting one swift glance in the direction Sel'n and Mer had gone. He didn't like leaving them, but he liked leaving Kale even less. "Tr'esn. They didn't...he's okay?" The brownweyrling visibly forced himself out of his stunned state and nodded. "Yes. Fiona...I hid her. That should be safe enou-" They came at a sprint, two shadows breaking off from the trees behind Kale. He swept her behind him, drawing blade, but he never saw the third. The man approached from the side more stealthily and latched onto the little girl before M'ta realized he was there, clouting the boy solidly in the back of the head before devoting his full attention to the struggling child and her own dirk.
The man dragged her away, the brownweyrling still reeling from the blow, such that when he attempted to block the first thrust he did so clumsily, the blades grating one against the other and slashing a long line across his bicep before the dragonrider hit him with the full force of his shoulder and sent M'ta sprawling. Still gasping for breath, he managed to get off a throw that lodged in the man's lung while he twisted to his feet, only to catch another blow to the temple from the hilt of the second attacker's dagger. He crumpled, losing his grip on his weapon. The boy was flipped over while he was still struggling to regain his senses, arms yanked behind him and pinned to his back with a knee that pressed down hard.
M'ta grunted as his head was yanked back by the hair, a dagger lingering just to the side of his face. He attempted to buck the man off, but only got his head jerked back further for his troubles. Behruth's fear added to his own, M'ta struggling to breathe as he realized he was about to have his throat slashed, and there was nothing he could do about it.
**
Those bearing torches had clearly forgotten Morendoth's presence, as the sudden gust of wind caught them off-guard. It completely put out the closer of the two torches, blowing the flames from the second back at the man holding it. His clothes caught instantly, the man lurching forward and flinging himself to the ground in a desperate attempt to put out the flames. The torch flew wide and landed on one of the dragons' sides, licking at the hide, and then the dragonrider rolled into the gaseous, split stomach of the green. Fire caught hold in a great wave, running over the bodies of the dragons as the man's dying screams echoed.
F'rel nodded to the majority of his riders, waving them toward the uncovered feeding entrance to wait just out of sight. There had been screaming from the weyrlings earlier. By now, panic was undoubtedly beginning to take hold, particularly after the small explosion of the gases in the green's stomach. The Weyrsecond himself strode to meet Sel'n as his men scattered, expanding the distance between him and I'fael, whom he hadn't noticed yet.
That was when the floodgates opened, and rain suddenly began pouring down in droves without so much as a second of prior warning. F'rel paused, his face twisting into a grimace. That fire wouldn't last for more than thirty seconds in something like this! And it was sure to have eaten away some of the mass of the dragons, making it possible for the weyrlings to escape. "You have got to be shitting me," the man cursed in a low hiss. "Even the weather favors fools." His eyes flicked up to Sel'n and he smiled a slow grin. One fool wasn't getting away. He burst into a run, only slightly impeded by the bruised leg, and bent low under the sweep of a blade he expected from the brownrider to slash at the man's knee.
One of the Benden riders gestured to four others, the men climbing up the wall, daggers in teeth, to take up a position directly above the smoldering dragon remains where they crouched and waited in silence.
**
Benden riders lie in wait, on the roof and by the entrance to the feeding chambers, just out of sight. Leaving off the broadcast to the weyrlings, he spoke to Morendoth. Mine says they shouldn’t be able to attack you from the air as long as you press close against the barracks. Maybe you can move one of the bodies enough to give them room? Admittedly, the bluerider had no idea what they should do after that, but then, F’ur wasn’t exactly spending a great deal of time worrying about their situation. Inocenth’s voice was tight with worry.
He caught C’vin’s glance and wished he knew he had an answer for the weyrling. All he knew was they couldn’t stay where they were. Farryl’s suggestion elicited something that sounded suspiciously like a strangled chuckle from the bluerider. “We need speed, little lady, and this kid is heavier than he looks.” Not to mention twice her size. He thought about passing Ke’rin off to C’vin, but then he’d have to cover both of the weyrlings because C’vin would…well, if he went down they’d really be screwed. F’ur caught the blueweyrling’s eye…he was larger than F’ur was anyway and should be better able to handle Ke’rin. The bronzeweyrling changed hands.
“Stick close to us, sweetheart…and make sure no one gets near to your friend without the whole Weyr knowing. Put that little screaming chick to shame.” He winked at her, then turned to the riders still advancing on them with a nasty grin. “Here’s the deal. We charge, as fast as we can,” he gritted softly. “You let me hit those limey bastards, and you two just keep running, whatever happens. Run straight. Go hide in the trees if you have to. Your friends will take care of your dragons for now, but if you die…” He left it hanging.
With a snarl, the bluerider burst forward with a disturbing amount of speed, his blade flicking out in deadly arcs. Throat slash. Stab to the groin. Stomach slit wide open followed by a headbutt. It left a momentary opening and he hoped C’vin and Farryl would take advantage. F’ur let loose with a yell that was half-pain, half rage as a blade slashed just above his knee. Not a pretty wound. Another flicked out at his face, slicing shallowly into his forehead but the bleeding was…quite copious. He was momentarily blinded, but it didn’t keep him from smashing someone’s face in with an elbow. Through the blood, he could just make out one Bendenite on the weyrlings’ heels. But he didn’t have time to consider it. Hopefully they’d do fine.
Backing up on a trembling leg, F’ur’s eyes swept the three advancing on him, and he grinned nastily. Oh yes. He truly did enjoy a good fight.
**
The girl was here. They had her by two arms, Ka’rys’s daughter, and F’rel almost laughed gleefully, though he never took his attention from Sel’n, whom he intended to humiliate as he cut him up piece-by-piece. She was quite the little spitfire, was Kalerary, and the men who had her were not pleased. They carried her such that her feet couldn’t reach the ground, her weapons already discarded. The Weyrsecond didn’t need to issue the order. Thrown to the ground, the two were joined by two more, all kicking her viciously.
F’rel was just about to try for a strike that would completely incapacitate Sel’n’s good arm when a running man caught his eye, the bronzerider stepping aside as P’nor hurtled past in what looked like a dive intended to tackle the Weyrsecond to the ground. Pitiful. Two of his men moved to support him just in case, but F’rel was already clear and he slashed out with his blade as the Selenitas idiot hurtled past, slashing his throat clear to the spinal column. P’nor collapsed at Sel’n’s feet in an explosive spray of blood.
Sneering, F’rel decided he was finished playing games with the Weyrlingmaster. “Finish the cripple,” the Weyrsecond commanded the two riders negligently, turning on a heel and heading for the riders with Kalerary. He grabbed the girl by the arm hard enough to dislocate her shoulder, and brought the blade down in a deep slash across her face. “This face…I just want to see it bleed. Your father is well-loved by us. You really should invite him to join you.” His blade came to rest beneath her earlobe, slowly drawing upward and severing the ear from her skull one millimeter at a time. “I’m sure we’d all have such a wonderful time.”
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Post by dragon on Apr 23, 2009 15:31:09 GMT -5
C'oar blinked as suddenly someone was tugging on his arm. The motion nearly sent the wavering lad to the floor. But he caught himself on his good leg for a moment. "What the-?" He asked, pulling his arm free. "What are you d-?" he got interrupted though, as now more people were shouting at him.
Shards. It seemed that's all people here knew how to do, really. Yell. Instead of doing anything constructive. He considered what thier options might be, and turned to consider the blocked doorway that he could see. And then there was the crash and splash of a sudden downpour of water. Some of it was being deflected into the barracks itself, though not much.
Well ... that solved the fire problem nicely. But they still had the Benden problem. He didn't get a chance to consider that for very long, either, until he was grabbed again. This time by someone bigger. C'oar yelped as the cut on his arm was aggrevated, stumbling after the lad. "I am not an invalid!" He protested.
But after having been made to sit, C'oar just sat. It felt really good, to just sit. Half a night's sleep, all this excitement and work and stress and terror of being attacked ... and then being wounded and losing some of his own blood ... it felt really good to just sit and do nothing. For a moment he almost nodded right off, despite the throbbing from his right leg and left arm.
He shook it off though, trying to focus his thoughts. He hadn't lost as much blood as everyone assumed he had, or as much as it looked like he had. A great deal of what he was wearing was not his own, though the front of his right trouser leg was certainly soaked from the cut on down. It didn't take much to do that, though. And C'oar was a big fellow.
"Okay, I'll shut up. Soon as someone does something beside stand there and make like a wall." C'oar snapped, shortly. So what if T'rid was the ranking rider present? He wasn't doing anything. But even so, C'oar remained silent. If they didn't want him doing things, then fine. He'd sit there and rest, and let them get themselves all killed.
C'oar was in a pickle of a mood, unlike his usual self. And rather didn't like being told off for trying to get and keep everyone alive. He was tired, exhausted really, wounded, in pain, and the adrenaline was wearing off. "You drink dirty water." He told T'ke when the lad blocked his line of sight, before snorting. "She can sit and scream. She does that. You'll have to get used to it. What are you doing?"
Near the feeding entrance, Frosstyth held still in the shadows, watching as enemy riders moved into position. He resisted the urge to snarl. But he stayed put, stayed still, and more or less invisible in the darkness of the interior. If any of them started in through that opening, he'd bite thier heads off. Cherilith. He called, discreetly to his play-buddy. I think we might be having a problem soon by the other door. Who is not busy and come over here? Frosstyth asked. He didn't want to take on a swarm of armed riders by himself. Backing up his while his fought of a swarm was one thing. But fighting them off all by himself was not something the brown wanted to do. He wanted help.
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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 23, 2009 16:04:38 GMT -5
None of the three made any reply to Ebolath's statement. Kindrith was dead. Yes. But he wasn't the first to go, and they couldn't stop the mourn for him now. Perhaps the first dragon to die without his Rider dying, too, but otherwise, it was just one more death. Stupid curled up against Raylin's cheek, tail flicking against the pale flesh, and crooned quietly, but it wasn't upset for Kindrith -- but for Ebolath. She was unhappy, which in turn made Stupid unhappy, even if he didn't care entirely about the reason of her lack of cheer. It was utterly out of the Salamandyr's control, so clearly the best way to make Ebolath happy was to share her sadness. Less for just the green to bear, yes? Brave, 'lath brave, friend us'n, hellbite meanies, he offered, leaning out precariously to nudge her flank with his head -- and then nearly overbalanced as Conspiracy leaned over, neatly pecking him on the head and uttering a reproving chirp. He'd better stop flirting and keep guard. Theirs said.
"What?" T'rid almost snapped at Ebolath, at her comment. Let Cherilith's fix him? "I'm fine," he added. Liar, Corinth countered mildly. Liarliarliar, Stupidmine liar, Stupid put in, and Conspiracy fluted sharply at him to make him stop. The Salamandyr's frill ruffled indignantly, but he obediently fell silent as T'rid flicked a glance at him. "I'm fine," he reiterated quietly to Ebolath, right shoulder rising in a shrug. It was blatantly untrue, but cracked ribs couldn't really be healed on the spot, and he'd already wrapped fabric around the cuts on his palm and his arm. The slice on his chest, too, was too shallow and thin to be any trouble -- indeed, he didn't even notice it, probably due to the pain of his chest overriding it. His right hand rose, absently rubbing the blood of his blade off onto his shirt, and he shrugged again at Ebolath. "I'm not going to drop dead. Honestly, I'm not."
His name being uttered by Saeo drew his attention, though he only caught a slip of the statement. What? Highest ranking Rider, so what? C'oar looked ridiculously unhurt. Blood loss, maybe, but there were plenty of other Riders out there -- G'tor, for example -- who really did need help. The last he'd seen of the brownrider, there had been far too much blood, and he hadn't looked too perky, either. Except...where was G'tor? The brownrider was -- had been? -- on his wing, and T'rid instinctively reached for Corinth's mind, confused. He might not have made it in? Corinth suggested softly, and T'rid hissed quietly, shaking his head wearily. What now, what now? It might take a while to light the bodies on fire, though -- sweat and blood didn't really make a great substitute for oil, last the bronzerider had checked -- but it would catch, eventually, and shardit, he'd forgotten the layout of the weyrling barracks. If they herded everyone to the end, using C'oar's wet-cloth-over-face-blinding-dragonets idea, and trusted that most of the smoke -- or at least some of it -- would go up the vents, and they could dangle out the windows or something, would that...lessen smoke inhalation at all?
Point. Glare. Threat. T'rid sniffed back at Saeo's statement, the jab of her finger, but he didn't reply, raising his right arm and clicking his tongue audibly to Conspiracy. The brown firelizard nudged Ebolath's hide once, and then leapt into flight, gliding to the bronzerider's arm and then hissing quietly at Saeo. He was not gasping for breath. It just...hurt to breathe, and his chest felt heavy. He was pretty sure if he laid down, the feeling would only get worse, but he chose not to point that out for the sake of his sanity. He didn't need a furious blueweyrling shrieking and flailing at him, thank you very much. "Go look out," he directed Conspiracy, in a low mutter. "See what's going on. Report back to me, 'kay? Go." Dropping his arm, T'rid watched as Conspiracy chirped once, and then winged towards the entrance, peeling upwards and then on top of Kindrith. The brown firelizard slunk around one shadowing wing, and watched, silently, relaying the images back to His. Morendoth's wings, blowing out the torches -- the explosion of flames from the scattered draconic innards, however, sent him wheeling backwards, blinking between instantly and reappearing just inside the doorway -- and then the rain began to speckle the ground, and the firelizard disappeared again. His job was done: The information had been received.
Flames? Taken care of, courtesy of nature. Thank you.
The brown firelizard fluted quietly, feline-patterned creature landing delicately on T'rid's right shoulder again. Hmm, observed Corinth, sounding slightly amused. Luck isn't usually on our side, is it? No, indeed it w -- blanket. It caught the bronzerider across the shoulder, and T'rid twitched, blinking as he pulled it away from him, Conspiracy hissing as he switched to T'rid's other shoulder, wings flaring indignantly as T'rid stared at T'ke, utterly at a loss. "Um...exactly what do I need a blanket for?" he asked, blinking uncomprehendingly at the thing dangling from his forefinger and thumb. And then he added, louder, for the room at large to hear, "It's raining." He hoped he didn't have to explain that. Because, really. If he did, T'rid would have to honestly have Corinth disown some of the weyrlings. Rain put out the flames, and...he still didn't get why he needed a blanket. He'd wrapped his arm and palm, and a blanket wouldn't do him any good as far as his chest went.
"So, O Healer, cracked ribs and two cuts. Am I allowed to go fight, or am I restricted from doing anything?"
Because, yes: He'd definitely listen to her!
----
About the time that the rain started pouring, a very indignant, red hen arrived at the scene. Her eggchick, her eggchick -- where was he? Here? Blood. Ichor. Dinner's feathers fluffed, and a soft, indignant cluck escaped her beak. That was it. Maybe it wasn't her eggchick, but then maybe it was, and that man in the middle with the girl and the blood was going to die. Her plan less than intact, the hen squawked, wings flaring, as she darted through legs and ducked shiny metal gleamings, perhaps because nobody really expected a chicken on the attack scene. Leaping, fluttering, squawking, flapping, she dove for F'rel, intending to shred him to pieces with only her beak. A jab of her head, aimed to peck at his heel. Oh, yes, she was definitely going to single-handedly destroy the mean blood-red-maker!
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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 23, 2009 16:42:24 GMT -5
Ebolath’s tail twitched and then came to rest, the tip fluttering ever so slightly. Stupid’s words caused her to croon. The head nudge at her flank was not noticed however as T’rid spoke. The bronze rider’s statement had the green ducking her head sadly. I am sorry I just did not want you to hurt.
As Stupid proclaimed T’rid a liar the green tilted her head and listened quietly to the rest of his words. She snorted at the end but did not comment, as hers had twitched and it caught her attention.
Craning her neck to get a better look Ebolath noted that hers was shivering. Crooning worriedly, she swung her head around to look for Cherilith’s. The blue rider was with G’tor and he was bleeding heavily. It would not be right to call her back. As T’ke threw the blanket at T’rid she crooned. Perhaps she could use it? When the bronze rider expressed no interest in the cloth the green grabbed the end in her mouth and tugged.
Snatching it from his grip Ebolath laid it over hers and nosed it around the girl’s shivering form. Eyeing T’rid balefully she shifted her wings slightly but otherwise did not move. The green was worried and scared. Not much seemed like it was going right. So many had been hurt and where still being hurt. Would it ever end? Would more people she liked die? When would the black give hers back to her? Would it ever? So many questions and sadly not enough answers.
----
Ah, he had been spotted, and by the last person he wanted to be seen by as well. Sel’n straightened up and pulled his dagger from it’s sheath. Cold, wet, what the hell? Southern weather was so very unpredictable, but Sel’n was saying a soft thanks to whatever god was on their side.
“Weather favors no one rider. I guess it’s just not your lucky day.” Wow that line was lame. As The bronze rider sprinted towards him Sel’n readied himself to spring. Forward he wasn’t going but to the side. If he could pivot close enough to the blow he expected to dart at him he might be able to get a clean hit it.
Springing to the side he struck out and…..missed. Shard it all. As the two began to circle Sel’n caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Flicking his gaze that way for a moment he realized his mistake to late. F’rel would obviously take advantage of the momentary pause. It seemed F’rel would not make contact though. He had a more interesting prize in mind. P’nor.
As the Selenitas bronze rider fell in a spray of blood he noted F’rel taking his leave. Sharding Faranth.
The Weyrlingmaster was not able to follow in pursuit however, thanks to the bloody Benden fools F’rel had sent at him. As the two advanced Sel’n backed up and took a defensive stance. One against one was a challenge for him now thanks to his arm. Two against one? Impossible.
----
As the riders attacked M’ta and Kale Vega hissed. The pale blue had seen enough violence and something suddenly snapped. Flinging himself off the branch he darted at F’rel. That was the one who was hurting his, and now he was hurting the hatchling his had met in more peaceful times. Enough was enough.
The blue careened into F’rel’s head and started ripping at his scalp tail whipping back and forth to strike the man in the face. He latched onto the bronze rider’s ear and held on with needle sharp teeth. Evil man. Little did he know his attack had coincided with that of a certain large red hen.
Somewhere back in the barracks Ebolath raised her head and gave a startled keen. Her little brother?
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Post by ladybug on Apr 23, 2009 18:43:02 GMT -5
Suddenly, there was the sound of rain. A'fyr almost deflated with relief, and then he managed a smile. They had gotten lucky about at least one thing. Maybe nature was on their side. That wouldn't stop the Bendenites from coming after them on their own, though, torches or no.
Frosstyth, I am coming,[/color] Rudolth said, trotting over to join the other brown at the other entrance. He wanted to be useful, and he also needed to take his mind off of the pain from the burns.
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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 23, 2009 20:13:16 GMT -5
Tor-mine? What is it, Rusk? G'tor mumbled absently. He just wanted to get some sleep. The world was horribly fuzzy and his stomach hurt. Was there anything wrong with getting some rest. Tell me the story of how you became a candidate. Ruskeath instructed calmly. With Saeo's help, he was sure His would be alright, but he would do his part to make sure. Come on, Rusk. You must have heard that story a hundred times already. Tell me again. The brown insisted. It is a good story.
Fine. If it'll keep you happy. G'tor waded through his foggy memories until he found the right ones. It wasn't a day he was going to forget anytime soon. Especially if Ruskeath kept asking about it at random intervals. Dad and I left the hold early to go fishing as always, he began. I knew that a Searchrider from Selenitas was expected that day, but I didn't think I had a chance at being chosen. Plenty of others seemed more likely and Father expected me to take over the boat after him. G'tor grew more comfortable as he told the story. He did like telling it and it kept his mind off the pain.
The blue dragon and his rider must have had better ideas. Except they didn't fly after our boat like you'd expect. They swam. Underwater. Right underneath us. One second the water was clear, and the next a huge shadow lurked under the keel. Before Dad or I could figure out what was going on, a blue head snaked out of the water and plucked me right off the deck. I've never seen Dad so angry and scared his his life. You should of heard some of the things he threatened to do to the "sea monster" if it didn't give me back right then! It took the rider almost an hour to calm him down and explain what they wanted. By then, I had pretty much already decided to go. It was much better than getting eaten by a "sea monster"!
Ruskeath rumbled his amusement. He did enjoy this story and he was pleased that G'tor was still able to remember it in his current state. If he still needed to be kept awake, maybe he would ask about the time he had fallen in the lake trying to spy on that girl.
~
Peppeth nudged G'tor in concern before trotting off to do as Saeo asked. Heedless of who they belong to, she barreled into rooms, smashing down doors in the process. No room was spared as she tore sheets, blankets and pillows from the beds and gathered them in her teeth to drag back to Saeo. It would take several trips this way to get all the bedding. Then the little dragon might have to resort to purloining clothing.
~
T'ke was surprised that C'oar sat so willingly. He had expected to have to wrestle him to the ground. A fight he would probably loose, even with the other boy injured. Moving around to C'oar's other side, he knelt and grabbed for a wade of cloth. "What's it look like I'm doing?" he asked sulkily. He was trying to concentrate. Not on what he was doing, but on thinking about anything but what he was doing. He didn't want to faint again. Then no one would ever want his help again.
T'ke soaked the cloth in a little water to wipe away some of the blood. Lucky for both of them, most of it wasn't actually C'oar's. T'ke pressed a makeshift bandage to the worst of the wounds and pressed hard to slow the bleeding. He had to look away as he did so. His head was getting fuzzy again and he felt like he wanted to throw up. C'oar would certainly be happy with him then. Not that anyone was happy with him right then. He couldn't blame them. He was certainly proving to be pretty useless. They might all be better off if he'd been killed with the others. He sighed. Garaeth would scold him for thinking such things. Besides, if he died, Garaeth would follow him. And he couldn't imagine the world without his cheerful dragon.
~
Any other day, Farryl would have argued that she was stronger than she looked, but today was not any other day. She wasn't sure she approved of being called "sweatheart" either, but again, it was an complaint best saved for later. She did glare at F'ur's implication that all she was good for was to scream when people got near. She had killed two Bendans already! If anymore got near, they were going to have more than her voice to deal with. No time for argument, though. She nodded at the rider's instructions and moved to guard C'vin's back. F'ur was right. They had to make it through. For their dragons sakes.
F'ur attacked and Farryl watch him with amazement. He could certainly fight! No time for gawking either. The moment she saw an opening in the line of attackers, she pushed C'vin in front of her, careful of Ke'rin. "Quick!" she hissed. Farryl kept herself behind C'vin as they ran. She wasn't going to let anyone get close to her friends. Thankfully, most of them seemed more worried about F'ur then a couple weyrlings. Farryl's knife slash the wrist of one about to stab Ke'rin's limp form and ducked under another who took a swipe at her. She didn't stick around to fight. Above all they most keep moving! If they could make it to the trees they stood a chance at loosing them!
~
Great. Just great! The whole situation was practically exploding in Merridan's face as she watched. F'rel had moved too fast for her to react and for a moment, she was sure he would kill Sel'n before she could help. Then other rider she didn't know, but clearly Selenitas by his actions, charged forward. Mer forced herself not to turn away as Sel'n's rescuer was cut down. She couldn't afford to miss any opportunity.
Glenching her teeth, Mer swore inwardly. She so wanted to kill that sharding Bendan leader! But Sel'n was between her and him. She couldn't possibly hit him from here. Then a familiar, squirming figure was dragged from the woods. Mer felt her stomach lurch. It was the girl who had come for M'ta. If she was here, what happened to him?
She couldn't afford to go back. Either he was alive or dead. Either way, she couldn't leave the others for him. With a silent prayer that M'ta would make it, she returned her focus on the scene ahead. F'rel had left Sel'n and turned his attention towards Kale. Mer's eyes widened as he cut her and started to slit her ear. What kind of sick person was this! That was it! Mer felt her fury burning within her. He was going to die!
But she still couldn't reach him. He was now even farther from her position and too many people in the way. If she could help Sel'n, though, maybe they could reach Kale. Two men circled the Weyrling Master. If she could get one of them, he would have a much better chance. Mer readied one of her knives to throw.
Her blade shot through the air with a whistle. It struck one of Sel'n's attackers in the shoulder and lodged deep under his collar bone. Mer grinned in triumph, though at the same time felt a little sick at the thought that she was almost enjoying this. The man wasn't dead, but he would be severely handicapped now. Emboldened by her success, she threw the second knife at the second man.
Her luck didn't hold. The knife whizzed past his head, drawing blood from one ear. With nothing to stop it, the weapon kept going. By lucky chance, it thudded into an unsuspected Bendan rider's thigh. The man howled with pain and glared around in search of his assailant. By now Mer had drawn her dagger. She was out of ammunition until she found more, and she was sure it wouldn't be long before they figured out where she was. She crouched, poised to leap from hiding to help Sel'n, or on any enemies who dared get close.
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Post by topaz on Apr 24, 2009 2:55:36 GMT -5
C'vin appreciated Farryl's offer to carry Ke'rin, but it just didn't make sense. Her gender didn't have much, if anything, to do with it, but her frame was just too slight to be carrying such a comparatively large weight. Although, not having F'ur able to fight with them - even though Farryl had certainly done her share of fighting - was certainly a loss. So C'vin was more then happy to take on the bronzeweyrling's body as F'ur handed him off to him. He bent low as Ke'rin was passed so that the lad could be lain across his shoulder; head and torso at C'vin's front, legs at his back. Rising from his crouch he adjusted the body so that he was mildly comfortable and wrapped his nearest arm - the left - around to steady the limp form. This way, C'vin still had some basic use of his good knife hand, and could better protect Ke'rin's more vital areas.
Listening intently to the bluerider's plan, C'vin nodded. Not the most elegant of solutions, and it might not even work, but it was better then staying in the midst of the battlefield. As Morendoth put out the Bendenite's torches, and it actually began to rain, C'vin almost wanted to rush back in through the feeding ground entrance and find Mallowth. He hadn't even seen the blue in what felt like ages. However, C'vin then caught sight of the Bendenites climbing the walls and stationing themselves outside of both entrances, and he reluctantly returned his attention to F'ur and Farryl.
Mine. It will be alright. We will get through this. You will see, Mine. I love you. The blueweyrling smiled slightly. I love you too Mal. How are your burns? He asked with a sharp pang of worry. They are fine Minelove. I will be okay. You're doing wonderfully Mal. I'm so proud of you. Stay safe in there, and don't let anyone else get hurt if you can help it. The words ended, but a wave of affection burst over the mindlink between rider and dragon, which lasted even as C'vin began running after F'ur, Farryl close behind.
F'ur was an effective bulldozer, cutting down rider after rider in their path with surprising accuracy. The man was certainly trained well with a knife. C'vin held his own knife out at his side, slashing at any riders who got too close - although there were no serious blows dealt - and sidestepping the ones that had fallen at F'ur's hand. Maybe they would get out of here after all.
- - -
Mallowth, satisfied that His was doing his best to stay safe, heard Frosstyth's request and hurried over after Rudolth. How many are out there? His had told him not to let anyone else be hurt. That included his clutchbrothers, and he would not let His, or them down. He didn't care how many bad men he had to bite. They would not come in here.
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Post by glamourie on Apr 24, 2009 3:23:40 GMT -5
No - NO! They were there! Kalerary squeaked in alarm, as all of the fire lizards disappeared from the trees in fear. Most of them were intelligent enough to know to run when they were faced with danger, after all. She didn’t even see the people moving until M’ta pushed her behind him, and when she felt hands grasp around her, she let loose with a scream loud and high enough to wake the dead -- even amidst the sound of dragons dying, it would probably be audible. The action was instinctive as she immediately took to fighting, digging her knife into the arm of the man who grabbed her. She kicked and fought to the best of her ability, but a child - period - was not able to get free from the grasp of a full grown man, let alone one as small as Kalerary. She definitely took after her father in terms of size, much to her detriment. Whether or not she managed to injure her attacker was unclear to her, though, for she was quickly carried off. Her weapons were removed and both of her arms held. Even though she thrashed, it was to no avail.
Monsters. That was her only line of thought as she was thrown to the ground, and as the first foot impacted her chest, she choked. But she didn’t cry. Instead, she rolled into a defensive ball, putting her hands over the back of her neck while her legs moved up to protect her chest; that one kick had definitely hurt her badly, but the rest wouldn’t. She felt them impact her back and her legs with enough force that it brought tears to her eyes, buried in her knees to prevent others from seeing them. Undeniably, her back would be bruised up, and she felt like she was going to throw up any second. Only pride and terror kept her from reacting outwardly. Her fingers were broken from a swift kick to her hands, and she bit down hard on her tongue to keep from making a peep. They liked the screaming, she was sure, and she wouldn’t give them that again. She wouldn’t.
Then suddenly the kicking was stopped and something was grabbing her by the arm. Stunned (namely because she hadn’t seen it coming), it took all of her effort not to scream in pain, and the slash that flared down her face was enough to make the tears in her eyes fall. But she didn’t cry. She made not a sound as he spoke to her, the Head Monster (names were not important anymore) bringing his blade to her ear. In fact, Kalerary did not react at all save for a very pointed stare right at his eyes, her own unblinking. Tears were falling but she didn’t sniffle, she didn’t cry, and she didn’t beg. She was better than that. Words didn’t escape her; words for monsters were a waste of time and energy. Monsters didn’t listen, monsters just acted, and the best way to beat a monster was to not be afraid. So she wouldn’t show her fear, and she hoped that this particular monster couldn’t sniff it out. Some of them could, she knew - but maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t.
A spec of blue flying by caught her attention, and Kalerary pulled her head away from the blade (intentionally) to jolt her chin up at the sight of… Vega? Was it Vega? Raylin’s fire lizard? What was he doing? He was going to get himself killed! She forced back her alarm and her gaze fell to the ground to spot… a chicken? What - animals -
And then flame.
Kalerary moved to speak, but the pain in her chest blocked it out; perhaps to her good fortune. Liette had returned, undoubtedly having gone to visit Kaaoloth, for the green swept wide around F’rel’s head and flamed directly at his hair. She had not a care in the world for the blue attacking the man; her focus was much more simple: burn him away from the little girl. Kalerary glanced toward Liette, then back to F’rel before spitting flat in his face. The spit was entirely blood, and aimed directly at his eyes. She knew it wouldn’t hurt him - but hurting wasn’t her goal. Her goal was to get free - get free and get away. With any luck, the flaming fire lizard, the one attacking his head, the chicken on his foot and the blood would be enough for her to worm away… to a safe place to hide, hide from the Monster.
Because Liette looked to her papa, and part of Kalerary was still young enough to believe that if Liette was there, her papa knew she was in trouble… and in her eyes, he still was the most invincible bronze rider in the world. She just had to buy him enough time to get there and rescue everyone…
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Post by weaving on Apr 24, 2009 11:58:37 GMT -5
As F’rel moved even further away, I’fael nearly gave up. Reaching him was going to be impossible if he needed to cover the distance that the bronzerider had created. Thankfully however, he still hadn’t been noticed. He continued crawling out of desperation. After all, what else could he possibly do? With his leg as hurt as it was, he couldn’t stand and fight as it would only lead to him getting mowed down, which wouldn’t be helping anyone at all. This way, perhaps he could sneak up on one of the other bendenites and take them down. At the very least, he could surprise them and make it easier for one of their riders to take them down. He refused to let this end without making himself useful in some way. If only F’rel would come closer to him!
And then, as if the man had read his mind, he did. I’fael froze instantly, worried at first that F’rel had spotted him, but no, the man was heading toward Kalerary and was completely focused on her. With newfound hope, I’fael began crawling once more, dragging himself closer and closer. Several times he paused in order to avoid being spotted, but he was steadily drawing nearer. As he came closer, he grew more careful of his movements, determined not to make any noise that would call attention to himself. There were others with F’rel, making sneaking up on him more difficult, but not impossible.
Finally! He was within grabbing reach of the man. Slowly, he drew his knife out from where it had rested on his hip. Once free, he waited only a moment before lifting his upper body up, resting it on his left arm while he slashed quickly with his right at the back of F’rel’s knees. If he could bring the man down to his level, it might make finishing him off easier, though it would also call the attention of the four men with him. No matter. Dieing was worth it as long as he had enough time to dig his knife deep into F’rel’s heart.
It was nice to see that the wind from his wings had mostly worked, though he growled in frustration when one of the torches still made its mark. Fanning those flames would only encourage them to grow and blow smoke into the weyrling barracks, which would result in nothing good. At Inocenth’s words, he drew close against the side of the barracks, glancing upward occasionally to make sure that he was indeed safe for the moment.
I will try, he told the blue. It shouldn’t be too difficult to do, for neither of the bodies were very large. Grabbing the tail of the green in his teeth, he began backing up, still hugging the wall. It was slow going at first, but as he continued to pull, the body reluctantly began to move. Is there enough room yet? He asked just as the rain began. It was both relieving and also worrisome to the brown. The fire would go out, but it would also create mud, which would make moving the bodies of Kindrith and the green difficult. Hopefully he’d already created enough room and further dragging would be unnecessary.
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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 24, 2009 16:42:34 GMT -5
And now it was raining. Apparently he had to be miserable while he died. Oh, shards, no. M'ta tried to keep Jabari away, but the brown was already in a dive, silent in the darkness. Frozen, he felt the rush of displaced air, heard the cry, felt the bite of steel into his neck as he pitched to his left and jerked his upper body back as far as he could. The man had dropped the dagger, his hand bleeding, but Jabari had been sent tumbling across the ground. M'ta blinked tears from his eyes, not sure even that he hadn't had his throat slashed, but too much the kid of the streets to simply lie still and wait to see if the bleeding killed him or not. Jabari's pain was sharp in his mind, and it angered him - the whole thing angered him. He'd been snuck up on, Kale had been stolen, and Jabari was hurt.
Bucking again, M'ta brought his head up sharply against the man's chin as he reached for that dagger again. His hair was released. Then he pitched right, the Bendenite on his back too foggy to prevent M'ta from rolling full on top of him. A knee pinned one arm, the brownweyrling grappling with the other, which had managed to snatch up the dagger as they rolled. His hand closed on the Bendenite's throat. It was all he could do to keep the man down as he bucked and thrashed, but, eventually, the life went out of him. M'ta pulled back with a gasp, pressing at the slash across his neck to slow the bleeding. No, it hadn't been deep enough to hit an artery. He wasn't sure what his voice would be like after this, but all in all...
Half-running to Jabari, he carefully lifted the firelizard. The poor thing's wingsail had been torn, and maybe something broken. Jabari crooned softly to him. M'ta's eyes flashed in the direction of the barracks, anger clearly written in every line of his face. What was he going to do with the firelizard? But Kale was out there, and Mer, and...he cradled the brown as best he could in one arm and set off quickly through the trees, not sure if he could do anything but unwilling to stay and do nothing.
**
Everything happened at once. The moment F'rel found himself under attack by a bunch of sharding pets the Benden riders made their move. No less than a dozen riders sprinted into the feeding chamber. Speed was the key. Two pulled off to deal with Frosstyth, one sweeping his blade out before him, the other coming in from the side with an eye for splitting the young dragon's side. Two more came for Rudolth, approaching more slowly while the rest hurried on. A particularly large rider moved to bar Mallowth's path, his mouth splitting in a wicked grin to reveal filed teeth. He advanced with a swagger.
Those five were all good at bringing down dragons, but if they didn't...their purpose was simply to distract those three dragons while their seven companions ran past. These seven were the fastest of F'rel's riders; three women and four men, not a single one of them above 5'7" in height. No landbound dragon was likely to have a reaction time to catch one of these, and they burst into the common room at full speed. They burst out in different directions, two men hurtling for C'oar and T'ke. One grabbed T'ke by the hair and yanked him back and away from the other weyrlingrider, landing on the boy's stomach with one knee as his dagger plunged for the blueweyrling's heart.
The other aimed a blow at C'oar's nose, but was more wary than his companion, having seen the brownweyrling fight. His dagger hovered in a position clearly meant to protect his chest from the boy.
The three women were even faster, sprinting to cut off Ebolath as a fourth rider descended on T'rid and Raylin. He tossed his dagger from hand-to-hand, advancing with a vicious smile. The weapon had a hefty leather grip that wouldn't heat up so well; the man had seen what had happened with some of the others. Two of the females held back a little, while one woman darted in and jabbed upward at the dragon's throat to force her back.
Last of the seven, a small man who seemed like he might topple at the first gust of win, hurtled between G'tor and Saeo, lashing out with a kick at G'tor's face. He tossed off a blade meant to take Saeo through the thigh and pulled another with the intent to finish the brownrider off and then deal with the little girl.
**
Not sure, Inocenth returned to Morendoth shortly. Mine's too busy to check. Which was true enough. The man was now at the center of the three Bendenites. He hopped to one side and plunged a dagger into the heart of one, the man who'd charged him hurtling past and into the third...but even as the one F'ur had stabbed crumpled to the ground, the other two reoriented themselves. The bluerider backed up again, trying to clear the blood from his eyes.
**
They hadn't noticed him. With a shout that was meant to startle both conscious weyrlings, he tackled Farryl from behind, wrenching her arm up behind her. F'rel was still interested in these three. Pulling Farryl to her feet by her torqued arm, he began to back away slowly, smirking at C'vin. Shadows moved on the edge of the trees, closing in.
**
He cried out as the dagger struck him high in the chest, staggering back a step as his companion moved forward to cover him. The Bendenite pulled the dagger from his shoulder with a growled curse. These two fought with each other constantly. The first - barely even noticing the dagger that sliced his ear - sprinted full-speed at Sel'n, suddenly throwing himself to one side just before he could come in range of the Weyrlingmaster. But the other dragonrider was two steps behind him, blades flashing out, one at chest level, one in an attempt to gut Sel'n, as the man who'd pulled away pivoted and prepared to come in to finish it.
Before the dragonrider with two blades could finish his leap for Sel'n, however, a third dagger screamed from the forest, faster and more accurate than the first two. It lodged between the man's eyes and actually propelled him backwards a short ways before the corpse hit the ground with a dull thud. The second Bendenite didn't waste time, however, coming in low for a stab to Sel'n's groin.
M'ta glanced at Mer, pressing at his neck again with the hand that had just held the dagger. The Weyrlingmaster should be able to handle himself from here. Kale was at the center, and it looked like an opportunity had just presented itself..."Please," he grated, his voice barely above a harsh rasp. "Take Jabari. Keep him safe." He offered the broken firelizard to her, the brown's soft creels wrenching at him.
**
F'rel lurched forward as something smacked into his head and began scratching at him, the creature at his foot earning an enraged snarl and a swift kick that sent the hen flying and probably snapped a bone or two, though he didn't really care. He still had a hold of the little girl, who was frankly infuriating him...that glare had her father written all over it. He was going to take her sharding eyes. That's what he'd do.
The flaming firelizard caught him by surprise and he stumbled backward, instinctively letting go of Kale to try to protect his face and head from the fire. His dagger flashed up and sliced through her underbelly as she passed, but now he couldn't see. His men were quick to fall in, one pushing F'rel out of the way as I'fael slashed out at the back of his knees, taking the slice deep in the calf for his troubles. Kalerary was momentarily ignored in all of the confusion, but F'rel couldn't help but chuckle grimly when he realized that the green flitter had only managed to flame the other firelizard, which he knocked of his head and stomped on. Clearing the spittle and blood from his eyes, he whirled on I'fael.
"Intelligent, Weyrlingmaster. That almost worked." The Weyrsecond advanced, his blade dripping ichor and blood in front of him. "Tell me, how long do you think you'll last against me, with your leg torn up? I'm just curious." One of the men grabbed I'fael by the arm and hefted him to his feet. "Why don't we find out?"
A flash of movement suddenly caught his eye. He was momentarily distracted by the sight of a teenager even shorter than he was sprinting across the open field before the weyrling barracks, darting around the Benden riders surrounding F'rel and I'fael, and snatching up the girl the Weyrsecond had forgotten about. Two didn't even wait for the order, taking off after the running figure.
M'ta clutched Kalerary close to his chest, hoping he wasn't hurting her, but he didn't have the time to worry about it. He veered toward the barracks and darted around the corner, using the turns to get him a little more distance from the men pursuing him and hopefully give him enough time to hide Kale before they came upon him. He spotted a small cluster of boulders and lowered her. "Hurry. Out of sight." M'ta backed off from them so he wouldn't give Kale away, looking for the men to come around the corner at any moment.
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