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Post by glamourie on Jul 17, 2009 19:17:51 GMT -5
S’rei. S’rei was in danger. Calistoth watched him fly with a low growl in the back of her throat. Her head jerked back to avoid the slash of claws, but she wasn’t fast enough, and several large gashes appeared over her face between her eyes. Ichor dropped down over her snout, green on green but still prominently visible.
Get Yours off - dismounted - and have him get out of sight. He’ll be hurt here, Calistoth instructed, the words timed perfectly with the bronze’s movements. It was private, meant only for Idith. Needn’t let the enemy know what they were planning, of course. Tell him to get back and watch for an opening, then he can get inside and help the candidates. If he’s not too badly hurt.
She snarled loudly and threw herself forward with her full weight. Inexperienced, she was, but stupid wasn’t entirely accurate; when it came to terrorizing other greens, Calistoth was an expert. Her movements were timed to distract, in case R’aro wanted to dismount, and she launched herself at Tsarith’s back and wings. It wasn’t the green she was going for, though. It was her rider. K’lir still had enough of a hold over her that when Calistoth reached out to bite, it was to grab, not maim, and her goal was to rip the girl from her dragon’s back and carry her away. With the rider as a bargaining chip, no doubt Tsarith would have to back off. She wanted to rip her apart, maim and kill her, but K’lir wouldn’t let her. One injury was bad enough. It had startled her, perhaps kept her from totally demolishing Idith, and that was to be enough. Selenitas Weyr was not killers. No matter how much Calistoth would have liked to make sure that this invader learned her place, especially for scarring her face. The pain was nearly blinding, and the ichor dripped around her eyes; no doubt it would be hard for her to see for awhile. But it would be worth it if she made this horrible, horrible one pay. In blood.
Inside, Ciceroth was distinctly aware of Salenth’s upset. He couldn’t blame him either: were it RysHis flying through the air, he’d have reacted with bad hostility. As it was, a sense of awareness flooded the back of his mind as Ka’rys woke up and caught up on the events of what was transpiring. He didn’t have time to move. He didn’t have time to react to help the other bronze rider, even if he’d wanted to. RysHis was inside and he was begging him not to come out, not to come and get himself hurt. It was reassuring to have the calm confidence of Ka’rys there with him, the simple vicious arrogance that he himself did not typically display. Salenth would watch the eggs, and the candidate (thrown as she was, yes, he saw her go flying and he knew that RysHis, in the infirmary, would let the healers know of injuries coming) would keep his babies safe. He told her to and she would, he believed. He had to believe in her. He didn’t have any other choice. He had to deal with the green.
Wings at your sides, back up! Don’t let the flames hit your wings! Don’t make her mistake!
The silent instruction from His was enough that Ciceroth backed up and crouched low, his wings snapped so tightly to his sides as to be alarming. The first two flames flared up and around him, licking against the sides of the sands, but she was a green and her flames were not long enough to hit the eggs -- the only saving grace. The third seared down the line of his sharp ridges and he hissed in pain before reacting, instinctively. The candidates would watch the eggs with their lives. Someone had to deal with Esaorith. Salenth was taking care of Vikoranth and Ciceroth trusted him to do that. Hopefully.
Crouching low, Ciceroth threw himself forward. The pain from his back was enough that he was furious and he expressed that by actually impacting Esaorith with his full weight. He was bigger than she was. In a true fight, greens were more agile, more quick… but she’d proven her inexperience by blocking her face with her wings, which was tragically the first defense lesson drilled into the heads of riders at Fort. He remembered that. Wings and underbelly, then neck. Those were the best targets to go for. Esaorith needed to be removed… and unfortunately, she’d proven that a warning wasn’t enough. She’d have to be removed by force. Which meant that she’d have to be killed. The resolution was a cold one, composed and accepting; Ciceroth was not normally vicious enough to kill if it could be avoided, but His was awake, and Ka’rys was far, far more practical than he was. As evidenced by the cold words resounding through his mind…
Go for her back. If you tackle her over, roll, stay where your stomach is guarded. Her rider is with her. Kill him and send her between Ciceroth.
Catching his claws along the backs of Esaorith’s shoulders, Ciceroth nearly mimicked Calistoth’s movements. The main difference was that he did not present his belly the way that she did; unless Esaorith managed to flip over (and squash her rider), the only part of Ciceroth that she could hope to hit with her claws was his legs. He leaned forward and snapped directly at Esaorith’s rider, but unlike Calistoth who was aiming to grab, his movement was to kill: he wanted to bite the rider badly enough to either wound him enough that Esaorith would back off, or flat out kill him and send her between. If burning her wings wasn’t warning enough, nothing was, and he couldn’t afford to be merciful. Not when his eggs were at stake.
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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 Jul 17, 2009 20:40:30 GMT -5
Believe me, if I’d lost my nerve I wouldn’t be here, was Vikoranth’s reply; the name-calling went ignored, the bronze’s pace fluid, his body kept low even as he jerked his head out of the way of Salenth’s flame. His eyes whirled rapidly, considering his next move: He didn’t want to be stupid and outright attack Salenth, because – if the eggs were crushed, or something happened and he lost – then everything would have gone to waste. And yet, he couldn’t wait much longer. Esaorith and Tsarith could serve as distractions (hence his wording to the former), but nothing more; Vikoranth well knew that they wouldn’t last long. A sacrifice he was willing to make, but not one he’d make lightly. Esaorith does not have long to live, A’risen said simply. We get it or we don’t, Vikoranth. Let’s go. And so he went; Vikoranth’s flames were sent towards Salenth’s head, expecting the bronze to dodge it, and, following on that, he leapt for Salenth’s back – more or less imitating the Selenitas dragons unconsciously, though his intent was to rip Salenth’s wings wide open.
Tsarith snarled, her nose wrinkling in her malevolence as Idith leapt at her, jerking backwards to avoid his claws, though she simply was not quick enough; ichor spurted across her chest, and the green flamed at him again. Her aim was oh-so-rudely disrupted by Calistoth’s slamming into her, and Tsarith staggered, the flame (the beginning of which had been headed directly for Idith) jolting downwards; furious, the green shrieked, and then reacted out of instinct: Saena’s terror pierced her and Tsarith thrashed, her entire body whipping from one side to the other before she twisted so sharply that her weight tipped onto her two hind legs; both front claws came around, intending to lock into either side of Calistoth’s upper neck, the only place she could reach to support her own weight, and she snapped for the other green’s throat in the same motion. Very, very risky, it was; she was leaving her Rider open to Idith, and should her claws miss their mark, she’d likely fall backwards – and onto her Rider. Not a risk she usually would have taken, but it was as good as she could manage. Her tail swept sideways – if she could just kill this one then she could go back to killing the bronze in peace, hmph.
One flame had hit him, but that wasn’t enough. Esaorith was aware of the blinding pain in both wings – there would be no more flying for her, the green realized with a sharp pang. If she went between, to come back out would be suicide because she couldn’t check her descent – probably. If she had to die, she intended to take Ciceroth with her. Did he have to be so sharding big, though?! His weight sent the green sliding, the sand shifting unsteadily beneath her feet, and Esaorith hissed sharply as his claws caught her shoulders and – R’trez. Blood spurted, and the greenrider sagged against his beast’s neck mid-fumble at his straps, blood-soaked hands catching at the neck ridges, slick with his own blood. Was he dead? Not quite. The wounds were severe enough that he only had minutes at best – much more likely to be seconds, since every single one of Esaorith’s now-desperate movements meant more blood was forced from his body; the straps suddenly gave – R’trez had been trying to pull free to begin with – and the greenrider half-fell and half-slid from his dragon’s neck, and Esaorith rolled onto her back, ignoring the slice of claws on her shoulders, slicing at Ciceroth blindly with all four legs, and opened her mouth; she’d kill the bronze –
And then R’trezHers was gone, and Esaorith went with him.
Cr’yn flinched visibly as Esaorith betweened, leaving her Rider on the Sands, staining the sands with blood, but he still met Vraelnir’s glance coolly enough; didn’t he get it? They wouldn’t yield. They wouldn’t, and they wouldn’t tell which Weyr they came from, either. If they did, what was the point of getting the egg? There simply wasn’t one: Selenitas would just chase them down and reclaim it. No. They wouldn’t do that; the brownrider shook his head and said softly, “Even if I could tell you, I wouldn’t.” He’d had orders to keep his silence, and Cr’yn would follow those orders…no matter what.
K’sel’s comment made D’rayr look the boy up and down (very obviously checking him out) before meeting his gaze squarely and saying, “I’ve decided that I’m asexual now.” Was that mean? Very, but it wasn’t like his opinion would actually matter to the kid. He moved absently towards the exit, looking upwards at the sky, and then turned around to face the Sands again just as Esaorith went between. Shock flickered across his face – R’trez had been a friend of his – but Yoalla’s proximity made him look down – and then he howled, a mixture of shock and pain – did she – what the – his howl was never finished, however; a gleam of silver at his throat and the sudden spurt of red ended both scream and life in the same stroke; the bluerider fell, and Rusa tilted his head contemplatively after him before he smirked slightly at Yoalla. The blood dripping from his knife was ignored as he nodded at Cr’yn, gesturing with his free hand at Vraelnir, who was closest.
“Somebody kill him, or I will. He’ll just let more enemy dragons in, and it’s easier to kill him than it is to kill a dragon.”
His dragon wasn’t here. Therefore, his dragon was probably back at whatever Weyr he’d come from, and thus capable of transferring the image of the Hatching Sands for the other dragons of the Weyr to come between to add to the invasion. Maybe he hadn’t considered it in the beginning, but now that things were swinging in Selenitas’s favor? What were the chances, really…?
Cr’yn stared at Rusahre for a moment, and then the brownrider reacted, swinging over the edge of the Stands and dropping onto the Sands below to snatch D’rayr’s forgotten knife. D’rayr was gone now; if people were trying to kill him, he’d definitely be trying to fight…
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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 Jul 18, 2009 6:39:02 GMT -5
Merridan stared dumbfounded at Mina for a second. Was the girl mad? She might as well have shouted: "Come roast me now!" At least the invaders and their dragons were far too distracted at the moment to take much notice of her, or any of them for that matter. Mer was relieved. She wasn't really interested in another flying lesson. It was hard to keep track of what was going on, especially when breathing was taking most of her concentration. But when one of the green's vanished, she couldn't help a grim smile. Score one for Ciceroth, she thought.
Auran growled in satisfaction as he landed on her shoulder. Yes, let the foolish green die! That would teach her to harm his mistress! He flapped his sail wings menacingly. Did they want to see what would happen to the next one to come near? He would do more than make them disappear! It was unclear exactly what, but the little blue was determined to put up a fight.
The sound of someone jumping onto the sands caught Mer's attention. She turned to see a boy holding a dagger had come onto the sands. At first she thought he might be another candidate, but he looked familiar, and not in a good way. She squinted up into the sands and confirmed that the two riders were gone. Rusahre had appeared too, so she had a pretty good idea what had happened to the other one.
Mer turned her attention on Cr'yn, keeping her possition between him and the eggs. If he wanted to try something, he would have to get through her first. Shaky and injured as she was, Mer was no longer confidant she could take him down without help. But she would die before she let him or anyone else touch the eggs.
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Lotty
Shiny Hoarder
Rider Mi?rah Rider K?sel Rider Osnat Healer Raebeli
Posts: 1,020
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Post by Lotty on Jul 18, 2009 22:22:46 GMT -5
There was a moment of apprehension, his muscles froze up as he passively let a Fortian give him a look see. Probably sizing him up for some kind of sick depraved plan acts, because in K'sel's mind the only way those nasties got any kind of action was through sheer force and ill will. Ugh, worst idea ever, worst idea ever, worst idea ever...
I'm asexual now.
Wait. What? Ouch?
It stung a little. Sure, he was relieved that he wasn't going to have to take one for the team and take the risk that he might never find his knife and be forced into an exceptionally uncouth situation, but that was all beside the point! It was the the subtext! The suggestion that he was not only not good enough looking to be a one time gigolo, but that he was so bad looking that he could drive someone to celibacy! Unreal. But as much as he would like to muse on the situation - he was secretly wondering if it was the hair, or maybe he needed a shave...that could be it - he felt his hand brush against what wasn't bone and skin and could only be the hilt of his favorite weapon. It was time for action, he couldn't just let...hey where was he going?
Apparently K'sel had spent too long staring and scowling at the rider and the man was moving on. In the next few moments the brownweyrling would be witness to D'rayr getting his privates rearranged by Yoalla and then quickly dispatched by Rusa. All the while he was still drawing his blade and continuing his upkeep on his trademark look of indifference - although slightly inflected with hints of disappointment, of all the battles this one would have given him a sense of satisfaction, running a knife through someone would have felt that much more justified after the minor insult. The man's death was something he wanted on his own hands, as morbid as that may seem.
With D'rayr down and out and his dragon betweened, K'sel felt little remorse as he kicked a little sand in the dead man's face and stepped over the body so unceremoniously towards Cr'yn, fingers clamping down around the grip in anticipation. So here it was again, that familiar sense of anxiety, the whisper in his ear reminding him that this was not his place. He didn't even belong there. But he was in it now. Which one of those was going to make the first move? A husky low purr resonated in the back of his head. It was the brown lump giving advice from the sidelines; the safety of the barracks, The first one to move has the first chance to mess up.
((I'm not good at keeping track of posting turns in big threads. My bad.))
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Kisha-Ra
Rider Mo?rya Rider Darya Rider K?fuzzi Rider J?on Handler Vivano Handler Yoalla
Happier'n a pig in mud ABOUT WHERBABIES!
Posts: 1,109
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Post by Kisha-Ra on Jul 19, 2009 13:46:37 GMT -5
A hiss of satisfaction escaped Idith as he felt his claws rend Tsarith’s hide, and a low growl followed as she leapt back and his teeth missed the mark. Between the invasion of the hatching sands and his rider being flamed the bronze was totally enraged. He wanted to bite and claw the hide off these interlopers, drive them away, and terrify them so much that they trembled at the very thought of returning to attack Selenitas again.
Then Calistoth returned to the fray like a bright spirit of vengeance, providing, purposefully Idith hoped, the perfect cover for R’aro to escape. Down, down. Quickly now, before she hurts Calistoth. Get clear.[/color] R’aro fumbled at the straps, fingers made clumsy by burning and fear. He was pitched to the ground as Idith writhed sideways, avoiding another blast of flame from Tsarith, and rolled clear of the three dragons as quickly as he could. Being squashed was not high on R’aro’s to do list.
With his rider more or less safely on the ground Idith closed with Tsarith while the green’s attention was on Calistoth. The bronze slashed at Tarith’s hindquarters, and snaked his head up to get his teeth in a wing. There was no goal to his actions now but to hurt the green, and keep her from hurting Calistoth too badly. Idith didn’t even think to make a grab for the rider clinging to Tsarith’s back.
Yoalla’s lips pulled back in a nasty smile as the bluerider howled, at the back of her mind she felt kind of sorry for him. He seemed to genuinely believe that his Weyr needed a queen egg. It was possible he’d been lied to or tricked into believing such a thing. He’d also just seen one of his companions killed in this fight. The front of Yoalla’s mind however was occupied with the current struggle.
Suddenly liquid hit Yoalla in the eyes, blinding her momentarily. With a growl of annoyance she shook her head and blinked rapidly to clear her vision. D’rayr went limp; she released him before she ended up on the ground with him and wiped her face on her sleeve. She made a small moue of distaste to find a bloodstain seeping across her shirt; they were so hard to get out. She returned Rusa’s smirk with a hard stare. ‘Next time, try not to blind me.’ It wasn’t witty repartee by any means but hopefully it would wipe that look off his face. She could handle herself, by running away if that was what the situation called for.
Yoalla’s eyes swept over the sands, taking note of what had happened. One green was gone, the other being attacked by a bronze, and a third green, both of whom Yoalla could only assume belonged to this Weyr. The northern bronze had leapt on the back of one of the defenders. What could she do? Probably very little but that thought didn’t stop her drawing her belt knife and hopping down to join the fray on the sands. Giving the dragons a wide berth Yoalla sprinted for the eggs, she couldn’t fight dragons but she could help the others keep the riders off them. She must have be going insane…
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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 Jul 19, 2009 17:40:07 GMT -5
Ciceroth he sensed with him, the fury stoking Salenth's own, the flash of pain almost strong enough to be one of his bondeds. Worm, S'rei supplied, to keep the bronze's mind from wandering. Right. That whole strange series of connections. Dragons were interconnected anyway, but the little salamandyr complicated things. He growled his frustration at having the bronze piece of lard in front of him to contend with before he could take care of the ones he really wanted to sink his jaws into.
Then again...
Flame, coming in high so it wouldn't damage the clutch. Salenth crouched low, belching his own flame back at Vikoranth and tucking his wings tight to avoid as much of the heat as he could, though it still seared his back. The bronze was all for doing the unexpected. Thus it was that he didn't move out of the way, nor stand still after the crouch, instead charging forward in the same motion on the heels of the flame in the hopes that Vikoranth would be blinded. The other dragon's leap was noticed a bit late (and likely spared him from being burned too badly, if at all) but Salenth merely continued forward and reared, slashing up at his opponent's exposed underbelly. He attempted to catch Vikoranth's rear leg in his jaws, as well, ignoring the flash of pain lancing down his lower back.
Nothing vital there, after all, and Vikoranth had overshot Salenth's wings, which was fortunate. The rest could be taken in stride. At least...while adrenaline still pumped.
S'rei sat up slowly, curling his leg in front of him. He stared hard at the torn appendage. Inconvenient. Probably would not bear weight, though he'd been able to move it so it wasn't hopeless. The man wiggled his toes thoughtfully. Pain and anger swirled, threatening to overshadow him, but he found that just concentrating on the mess of the limb seemed to be an effective mask. Except there was thrashing and screaming and...
His back flared, lower spine erupting into agony, and S'rei's breath hissed through his teeth as his head snapped around, eyeing the struggle just inside the entrance to the hatching grounds. The man shook himself. No, no. Nothing he could do right now but get trampled by dragons, inadvertently kill Salenth and make it that much harder on the Selenitas defenders. Better to stay here.
The pain in his leg wasn't grounding him anymore, though. He glanced upward, staring at the clouds. Yes. Pictures in the clouds. A wherry and a woman and...yes. Cloud drawings.
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Post by Sheari on Jul 19, 2009 21:43:16 GMT -5
"ARE YOU CRAZY?" was the only warming Mina had before she was charged. Ramen dashed across the sands to her. His boots kicked up the heated graisn and the stung his ankles as some found their way under the hem of his pants. He ran and his lungs burned as the air grew tense and stuffy as more dragons flamed. He felt as delerious as Mina probably was and as he neared her leapt with his whole heart at her. He intended fully to tackle the girl and take her knife.
As he rolled he came in contact with the hilt of a blade and grabbed. Whether it was the crazy girl Mina's or not he didn't care. Standing up in an extremely dizzy fashion he ran yet again. He was half oblivious to the fact that one of the green's had betweened and her rider lay dead in the sands; sand had been kicked on his face. Ramen leapt over him and ran at a green. With the last of the strength held in his legs he jumped for a third time and embedded the blade as far as he could...into Calistoth.
He had tried his best to injure one of the dragons and in his confusion he had. He did not realize, however, that he'd aimed for the wrong target. Believing it to be one of the northern greens he held on for dear life. If he let go and dropped he could be trampled or worse. If he stayed on the dragon that was now probably enraged would be able to snap at him and have a mid-life-or-death-battle snack.
And any movement he did just flaying around like a ragdoll would move and twist the blade. If he had a choice he'd rather be eaten; less messy.
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Post by archenstone on Jul 19, 2009 23:49:56 GMT -5
Vraelnîr nodded when Cr'yn refused to tell him about the Weyr. Oh well, I didn't expect abject cooperation... He was simply thankful the men had disarmed with out fighting. The intensity of the dragon's battle made him look up as the enemy green disappeared. His rather tan skin turned a bit paler as the realization came that they were dieing out there. What could drive them to such desperation? He had no clue, being new here and to Weyrs in general.
His attention was quickly brought back to his proximity though as D’rayr howled in agony. He grimaced in empathy, knowing that that was a horrible thing to go through. It didn't last long though...another candidate that was only slightly familiar had come up and knifed the guy in the throat. Vraelnîr's mind raced as he realized that these others would not tolerate the other riders even if they were unarmed and acquiescent. He was filled with a mix of horror and anger. He stoutly believed that it was dishonorable to harm a person after they yielded. He even felt marginally responsible for D’rayr's death because it was he who had ordered them to disarm. He fully intended to send them back to whatever eggspawn they crawled out of.
As such he didn't react in time to stop Cr'yn from jumping into the sands and retrieving the knife that lay there. He couldn't blame the lad either....after his friend had just been killed. He, himself, was still in shock...and still unwilling to inflict harm unless some one specifically provoked him. It wasn't until Yoalla jumped to the sands to engage Cr'yn that it sank in. There's no choice, is there? Cursing his luck and his self loathing he jumped over, rolling on impact to stand again. He held his own knife close to the side where it could be used for either defense or offense. "Can you help the others defend the eggs?" He asked Yoalla. She would understand right? Part of him wanted to make sure she didn't get herself killed and hoped that the group at the eggs would have better protection in numbers. Part of him however.... thought he should be responsible for dealing with Cr'yn now that his plan was utterly destroyed.
He looked at the younger man, he didn't want this blood on his hands. "If you want a chance to make it out of here I suggest you regroup with your friends." It was the only warning he could give and was spoken in earnest. He wanted the young man to run from this. He would not hold back fighting and knew that as an experienced knife fighter he was likely to maim or kill if Cr'yn struck first. Of course...he also knew that Cr'yn could harm him or Yoalla too. After all, people fight their best when they feel there is no other option for survival.
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Post by glamourie on Jul 20, 2009 2:20:38 GMT -5
The low, steady growl in Ciceroth’s throat was ominous. His eyes whirled darker reds… but also with tinges of sorrow; no matter how willing to be vicious he was, he was not willing to kill people and feel no regret. It wasn’t in his nature. Ka’rys was the ruthless one of the two, the one capable of turning those emotions off when necessary, not him. Esaorith was his enemy, and so was her rider, and he did what needed to be done, but seeing the man - boy child, really - bleed was enough that he did feel guilty. Part of it was misplaced. Were Ka’rys ever in that condition, he’d want someone to feel guilty for doing it. But the dominant part of his mind alerted him that he’d never open himself up that way, he’d never let Ka’rys be in such danger. His was tucked away somewhere safe where no one would endanger him, safe from their harms. Rapidly whirling eyes followed as the boy fell to the ground and Ciceroth recoiled away from Esaorith on instinct, so that her claws lashed at thin air where he was only moments before. Were he trained any less, it would’ve tore his stomach and throat clear open. As it was, she missed, though it was close enough that he twitched his wings. And then, before he could launch onto her to finish the job, she was gone - gone between, gone forever, with her rider dead in the sands. RysHis would have to clean up his mess. Part of him felt guilty for that fact. Most of him was relieved. One down, two to go.
Around he whirled, just in time to see the other bronze leap at Salenth. Fury raged through his eyes. Was one death not enough to make them scatter…? Fine. Fine!
He couldn’t move forward to help Salenth with him actively fighting. And he found he didn’t really want to. Since Salenth was busy, Ciceroth swiveled his head back to the clutch. Candidates. The one he’d ordered to watch it. His eyes whirled rapidly and he swiveled his head around toward the dragon entrance. S’rei was out there, hurt. Hurt. Salenth was busy with Vikoranth, but he couldn’t leave the eggs. Couldn’t leave the eggs. Someone needed to get Salenth’s out of the line of fire, though. His head swiveled around, toward the eggs, and Ciceroth dashed across the sands to put himself directly in front of the clutch… between the candidates and the enemy dragons remaining. If Salenth left him an opening, he’d help, but for now - he had a responsibility to the ones he’d asked to guard the clutch. They were just little fleshlings, but they were possibly the mindmates of his unhatched babies -- and he wasn’t going to let them die on his orders. He wasn’t.
The position effectively put him between the candidates and the rider on the sands as well and he snorted, tendrils of smoke flaring from his nose -- firestone had that effect at times, but he relished it for the moment, for it was definitely intimidating. Let him come. He’d roast, if he came any closer.
Since he’d already spoken to her once, Ciceroth decided to let his mind brush against Mer’s again -- she was tolerable; she’d done as he asked. How bad are your injuries? Salenth’s is outside, badly hurt. Calistoth fights one of the foreign greens with Idith. Salenth’s is close to the fighting and runs the risk of being burnt, trampled, or worse. He must be moved. If you can’t do it, ask one of the ones with you, but please get him out of the way. Get him away from the fighting; Rysmine will get healers ready once the fighting has stopped, and they will see to you and the others who are injured soon. He did not count himself among the injured, bizarre as it did sound. He was burnt, but compared to the others, he was fine. Burns he could live with. Please hurry. Salenth’s must not be hurt worse.
Calistoth did not expect the response from Tsarith to be as quick as it was. Average-sized at best, she was used to being faster than anyone she dealt with. When the first pain slashed through her neck, she responded with a roar of fury loud enough to be heard all throughout Selenitas. She didn’t have time to jolt back as teeth clasped around her throat and her sounds were silenced in a burst of pain that was almost blinding. Her claws went up to slash across Tsarith’s face, going for her eyes with as much energy as she could summon up as her own vision began to swim from pain - unbelievable, unbearable pain - and fear. The second emotion wasn’t hers; it was a cold terror from LirHers, and she had only a moment to recognize why, for her strength left her quickly enough that she hit the ground, Tsarith’s claws leaving long, bloody gashes over her neck. She slumped hard, her weight all on her forelegs, and she lifted her head, slowly --
And she was… stabbed? Pain shot through her leg and she forcibly swiveled around, back to her feet with her last vestiges of strength. She wanted to reach over and grab the maggot from her leg, but there was no time. Whatever it was, it could hold on. And hope its grip was strong enough to last against her speed and strength. Which… was rapidly fading…
Idith was not aiming for the right target. Silly buffoon; did he not realize why she’d gone for the green’s back in the first place? Rather than ask, Calistoth forcibly pushed herself to her feet, her neck still positively gushing ichor all down her front. Green on green. Unmistakable, except from a distance, and a hazy hatred filled her, comparable only to one creature before -- killed by Fort. Jeminorth was the only one to hurt her that way and live. And this one would be no exception. She was going to die anyway. They didn’t have time to rush a dragon healer to her to save her life. But she wasn’t going out alone.
I’m sorry Lir, my love; forgive me.
Still bleeding profusely, Calistoth did the only thing she could think of. First she swiveled around, still bleeding, and grabbed Ramen by the shirt. The movement made her wounds more severe, but she ignored the pain (aside from the color of her eyes, which she couldn’t ignore) to throw the candidate with much the same force as Tsarith had S’rei. Then she turned, growled, and leapt. Like a furious lioness, Calistoth grabbed Tsarith by the neck, her teeth digging into the other green’s throat as she was distracted by Idith’s onslaught on her back. The pain from her neck was blinding and she felt her vision fading out into nothingness as if there was nothing happening all around - but she was not alone. Her claws went up to grasp Tsarith, digging into the other green’s shoulders, and she reacted with speed, vanishing between without a sound -- save for that of Ramen hitting the ground.
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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 Jul 20, 2009 7:40:48 GMT -5
Tsarith’s back arched in her pain, the green hissing. Ichor dripped from her mouth – Calistoth’s – and as her head whipped around back towards Idith, even as the other green’s claws had left deep marks across her face. One, she had managed to evade for the most part – a slash had been marked across her muzzle – but the other one had struck clear across one gleaming, multi-faceted eye, and Tsarith’s shrill shriek ripped through Selenitas as she writhed in clear agony, that one motion saving her wing from Idith, though her hindquarters had already been slashed open; ichor gleamed on the Sands underfoot. Calistoth seemed to be momentarily, at worst, unable to fight, however, and Tsarith twisted, agony blending with fury as she snapped at the bronze and flamed at him again; this close, if he was hit, it would definitely leave damage to be remembered – but with one eye out for the count, her perception of things was thrown off. But really – a big fat bronze like Idith; how could she possibly mi – and then Calistoth had buried her teeth into Tsarith’s neck and the green writhed frantically, but not quickly enough. There was one second, one moment, of pain beyond pain, and then – nothingness, as Calistoth went between – and dragged Tsarith with her.
The flame streamed beneath Vikoranth, and the bronze was grimly pleased – though he didn’t allow himself any smugness, for the next second, Salenth was rearing up beneath him – and Vikoranth flared one wing open to twist midair, taking the slash across his ribs instead of his stomach; he hadn’t wanted to unfurl his wings, but – if it spared him being gouged wide open, it would be done. He could not, however, avoid Salenth biting his hind leg, and his jump was roughly ended far too soon, Vikoranth growling his pain as he was slammed down, claws digging into Salenth’s hindquarters. His mouth opened, and he twisted to look over his shoulder, flaming in that direction even as his tail came up, sweeping – if the stupid bronze could just let go of his leg – that both Tsarith and Esaorith had died didn’t stop Vikoranth at all, and he wouldn’t stop if there was the slightest chance he could get to that egg – and if he couldn’t, likelier than not he’d be dead.
Three of the Candidates had followed him down from the Stands, and there were more at his back. The girl who’d grabbed D’rayr was running for the eggs, and Cr’yn let her go, eyeing K’sel and Vraelnir warily. Wetting his lips, the brownrider stared at both of them for a moment before Vraelnir spoke and he actually smiled sarcastically at the Candidate. “Regroup with my friends! The ones that’re between?” At this point, Cr’yn wasn’t sure if he wanted to live or not. His dragon – his dragon was there for him, but he’d almost certainly be injured badly if not killed, and surely nothingness was better than agony? And whatever; Tsarith and Esaorith were both gone, A’risen was not given to sympathy, and anyway Vikoranth was in the middle of a fight with one of the other bronzes. Did the Candidate honestly think that he could just regroup and go? Not only would their group consist of three – himself, A’risen, and Vikoranth – but he doubted Salenth or Ciceroth would let them just march back out again.
Yoalla’s words actually made the smirk extend further across Rusahre’s face; he tilted his head at her almost playfully before his gaze was attracted to a figure that was…running very oddly indeed across the Sands. For a moment, Rusa simply watched Ramen, and then he clicked his tongue in amusement and swung himself over the railing as well, landing and sheathing his dirk into the sand before he wiped it off onto his pants, glancing at Vraelnir curiously for a moment. Didn’t he understand what would happen if Cr’yn paused to consider what he could do? Impatiently, the Candidate flicked a glance back at Cr’yn before he spoke to Vraelnir and K’sel both – if only because he didn’t want to collide with either of the two should they decide to move at the same time as he – “Were either of you planning on actually doing anything anytime soon?” His voice was deadpan, but the rapidity of his speech made it clear that he was impatient.
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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 Jul 20, 2009 16:28:57 GMT -5
As the dragon battle raged above her, Mer felt Ciceroth touch her mind once again. Salenth's rider? Mer looked towards the entrance, but she couldn't see him from here. If he was in the middle of that though, he was likely to get trampled before long. She nodded grimly. "I'll get him," she promised. True, she was hurting, but the initial shock of her brief flight was wearing off. Sore limbs she could live with, only the pain in her chest was annoying and that wasn't going to stop her yet. The others looked to be dealing with the boy rider well enough, and Ciceroth certainly wouldn't let him near the eggs now, so she wouldn't have to worry about leaving them.
Mer turned to Nephele and Mina. "Stay with the eggs," she ordered firmly. It might be a little presumptuous to assume command like that, but they didn't have time for democracy. Mer started around the edge of the sands towards the entrance. Auran flew ahead of her on orders to find S'rei and show her where. Mer's eyes went wide as Ramen flashed through the air ahead of her. She winced in sympathy and hoped the boy had survived. Part of her wanted to go and check on him, but she had her priorities. Ramen was at least out of the way and in no further danger.
Auran found S'rei just outside. He chirped at him and landed on his shoulder, sending the image back to Mer. Mer arrived moments later, breathing hard. Just as Calistoth and the enemy green vanished between. Mer's throat went tight. She hadn't known the Selenitas green, but she could not denign her bravery. It was heart breaking to see her go like that. It was such a waste. Why must Norther riders always resort to violence?
Mer knelt down next to S'rei. She was breathing hard and looked a little shaky even after this short trip. With the enemy green gone and only the bronze left, they probably weren't in immediate danger. But it wasn't over yet. Enemy reinforcements could still come. Mer tore a strip off her shirt. "Let me help," she managed to get out. Talking shouldn't be this hard. Without waiting for him to reply, she started to tie a quick tourniquet around his injured leg. It wouldn't do for him to bleed to death while she moved him.
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Lotty
Shiny Hoarder
Rider Mi?rah Rider K?sel Rider Osnat Healer Raebeli
Posts: 1,020
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Post by Lotty on Jul 20, 2009 17:58:03 GMT -5
If looks could kill this would become a massacre. He had some kind of black eyed rage, eyes glaring even through the narrowed slits he closed his lids into. He wouldn't just slay the enemy...he'd be the demise of allies too, his stare flickered over to Vraelnir for an instant, operating under the assumption that he was being spoken to and spoken to like a child. How presumptuous was it to think that he had friends to run off with? He was able to brush off the mistaken insult easily enough when Cr'yn piped up with his rebuttal instead. Maybe tunnel vision bled into hearing, maybe paranoia was working against him. He didn't know, and he didn't want to stand around long enough to find out. He felt his dragon's emotions bleed into his own, the overdriven determination that was trademark of Pettahth, but maybe another's too - ah yes, Eyesore was lurking in the stands with two red eyes burning in his little blue head - and it didn't help that his muscles were all leaping under his skin.
Don't egg him on, don't do it. He was growing a little unstable, even if he was covering it up so well (besides that scorned look, but that was all too typical to be considered anything but his "calm" face). But Rusa's words served as a catalyst, his impatience was going to set off the weyrling. "It's my turn..." K'sel mumbled, taking a few slow but confident steps closer, he had to shorten up the distance between himself just enough. He was going to make up for the Benden attack with this one, he missed out on most of the fun last time, keeping company with the girls in the candidate barracks.
He weighed his knife in his hands one last time, it wasn't designed for this he knew, but it was balanced well enough and it would have to do, because now he would have to act fast and spring into action. Speed was something he had been learning from his firelizard, a stutter step and a quick break for it, two deft steps before he snapped his arm around. The hand holding the knife, or rather the hand that held the knife. His hand came straight down from behind his ear, thank Faranth for childhood ball games that taught him how to throw.
He watched the blade fly forward out of his grasps, but beyond the initial gleam it was nothing but a blur. His focus was dead set on Cr'yn. Would it hit his target? He didn't know, but he wasn't going to wait around for responses. He stayed on the charge, ready to retrieve his weapon from a dead Fortian or throw him down and try fight him in the dirt for his life, but he hoped that for his sake that at least he made a good distraction.
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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 Jul 20, 2009 21:14:42 GMT -5
It was official. He very much didn't like fighting on the ground. It didn't leave you nearly as many options. Snarling to himself, he ground his jaws to produce as much pain in the other bronze as possible, jerking his head and backing up a little, seeking to shred the muscles completely in that leg. Ichor dripped down his sides, but he was beyond caring at this point. The eggs were a distant concern, though he was aware enough to keep the skirmish from spilling into their midst.
Had Ciceroth chosen to join in, Salenth would not have been at all grateful. Someone was going to pay for ReiHis and for the bronze's own pain. None had been stupid enough to challenge him in a good long while, and he intended to make it obvious just why they stayed clear.
More fire, and this time with very few options; it was point-blank. Salenth jerked sideways, presenting his shoulder to the fire and trying to avoid most of it in the process. He thought he heard Vikoranth's leg snap, but he couldn't be sure. His mind was swallowed in the pain of taking what would likely be serious burns down most of the length of his flank, though at least he'd managed to preserve the wing. He hated fighting on the ground! Stay!
The pretty clouds might be capable of distracting someone like S'rei for a time, but even he couldn't ignore what was going on inside the hatching grounds. Nor was he in any mood to listen to his dragon's commands. Ignoring the leg that shouldn't have borne any weight, he surged to his feet and promptly slammed right into the girl trying to help him (who he'd somehow managed not to notice in the middle of all the mayhem). Normally he might have stopped to make sure she was okay. After all, most people that size didn't do so well when struck by about two hundred pounds of decidedly not soft mass. In this instance, however, he was far more concerned with the dead and injured dragons, namely the battle taking place not far from the eggs. It had been a long, long time since Salenth had taken anything resembling serious damage, and S'rei's better judgement (what little of it there was) had gone entirely by the wayside. Besides, most of the danger had passed. To almost everyone but Salenth, it would seem.
The man's headlong, half-crippled dash was brought short, however, just a few paces in as he proceeded to trip over the girl he'd just bowled over seconds before. S'rei threw himself wide to try to avoid squishing her, growling nasty imprecations under his breath. Lovely. Now he'd jarred the injury further and...shardit, but his laces were caught on something of hers!
It was a good thing that ReiHis was so inept, or that might have caused a distraction that Salenth certainly didn't need. He was done playing with this other bronze, though. Ignoring the weak flailing of a poorly-aimed tail lash, he dropped the leg long enough to pounce forward, claws extended in a pinning move. His tail whipped in a deadly arc that hopefully no one got in the way of, as it would likely kill them instantly. The large bronze's head snapped forward, jaws snapping shut in a bite that was intended for Vikoranth's snout. Fire flared in a volatile burst directly at his opponent's face.
A rather distant part of Salenth wondered just what it would be like to see the flesh melt from another dragon's bones.
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Post by ace on Jul 22, 2009 14:28:32 GMT -5
Mina wasn't even paying close enough attention to her surroundings to notice Ramen running at her; and she didn't realize what was happening until Ramen tackled her to the ground and took her knife. "What are you doing, I need that!" Mina yelled indignantly, coming to her senses. But with her knife gone, she fumbled on the ground for another weapon, and her hand closed around a hilt. Looking up, Mina saw Ramen running toward... Calistoth!? "NO, WAIT!" the shouted over the din, but it was to late. The wrong dragon had been stabbed.
Mina hardly realized what was going on, and Mina watched with trepidation as Ramen was picked up and dropped to the ground. She started to go and check on the candidate, but she headed Mer's instructions and stayed with the eggs. Instead, she held her stance, gripping the knife she had recently acquired tightly. But she couldn't help but shout to Ramen, "Are you ok?"
(posted, but it's museless and bad >.<)
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Kisha-Ra
Rider Mo?rya Rider Darya Rider K?fuzzi Rider J?on Handler Vivano Handler Yoalla
Happier'n a pig in mud ABOUT WHERBABIES!
Posts: 1,109
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Post by Kisha-Ra on Jul 22, 2009 15:33:10 GMT -5
Idith roared in pain and rage as Tsarith managed to catch him with another burst of flame, He was able to turn his head away, taking the green’s wing with him perforce, and took the fire on the side of his neck rather than his face. Too late the bronze turned back to the battle, only to have Tsarith vanish from beneath his claws and teeth, and with her –Idith keened, the eerie sound rising above the noise of brawling dragons and humans- with Tsarith went Calistoth.
Alone in the entrance Idith lowered his muzzle and hissed. With his eyes showing darkest reds, and his mouth and claws dripping icor he looked like some ancient monster transplanted from stories of the far past. There was no room in him for anything but rage, They had killed Calistoth and he was going to avenge her!
The bronze bounded forward in a dragon’s clumsy graceless, yet implacable charge. Not the eggs! Watch out. Don’t squash them! A small part of his mind panicked, Idith ignored it. He wasn’t going to harm the eggs. He was headed for the only remaining target for his revenge. Vikoranth. He did give a passing thought to the fool who’d stabbed Calistoth but the enemy dragon was more important.
Idith pounced on the first available part of Vikoranth, not really noticing, or caring, whether he was inconveniencing Salenth or not. Idith ripped into Vikoranth’s hide with tooth and talon, venting all his fury on the other bronze with no thought to his own defence. It was as well for Idith that Salenth was finishing the invader off.
Consumed almost entirely by Idith’s fury R’aro swept the sands with his eyes, seeking a target. He only spared a frantic thought for the eggs, it would be an unmitigated disaster if Idith were to damage them. However it seemed every Northern rider was occupied. To be blunt the remaining riders were likely to be mobbed. R’aro had no sympathy.
Yoalla reached her goal, pausing in her stride to throw an obscene gesture aimed at both Rusa and Vraelnîr both as she went. There didn’t seem to be much left to defend the eggs from, unless the Northeners had reinforcements. Avert Yoalla thought superstitiously. More dragons were not what needed to be added here.
((Idith stole this post))
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