Tainted (Plot)

[Requiem]

He picked idly at the stone caught in his boot with the tip of his knife, leaning against the tree. It didn't look like it, but the rider who wore no rank had full view of the river and all his men from his position...all his men being three. Travel light, travel swift. Though he wished they'd given him more than just one full rider. Weyrlings tried his nerves.

"He's dead?"
The boy nodded.
"You're sure?"

A stare that would have gotten him slapped...had the man cared to make the effort. He didn't. Probably a rider, and they didn't want to alert anyone before it was time. The brownrider had only heard the man in passing. Weyrlings were enough to take care of most anyone at Selenitas...especially if they had the advantage of surprise. And, one thing he could say for these boys, they definitely knew how to get about a forest undetected. Which was doubtless why they'd been assigned to him.

The greenrider returned, flicking a strand of hair out of her face. "It's done." He smiled wryly. Time to head back toward the clearing a candlemark's distance from here. He jerked his head, sheathing his dagger, and the small party of four disappeared back into the trees.

---

Light was fading quickly. Bearinth curled by the river, idly drinking, as K'nam reclined against the stone not far away. Further down, one of the whers ventured out into the twilight while his handler still slept. It happened without warning. Kedan twitched in his sleep, then went still, the shock killing him before he even knew what happened. K'nam had only enough time to sit up, worry written over his face, before Bearinth got his legs under him. The bronze stumbled, twitching. He screamed, disappearing Between. His rider was dead before his head struck the stone...the shock of the separation killing him instantly.

All along the river, dragons and whers, firelizards and salamandyrs sprung between or dropped dead in a fit of twitches. It didn't last long. By the time anyone put together that the river had been poisoned, the fellis had been washed downriver, toward the sea. It was enough, though. Most definitely enough.

---

Not far from the source of the poisoning, the body of the junior Weyrleader lay prone. It wasn't the work of fully trained riders. The blow to the back of the head revealed bone fragments matted in the bloodsoaked hair, more blood staining the stone he'd been thrown against before crumpling to the ground. It was a good deal of blood, and his breathing was so shallow a trained healer wouldn't have known without physically checking for a pulse. Lucky, perhaps, that it was weyrlings who had caught him unawares - that they hadn't recognized him.

(Fellis is very poisonous to all draconic species. Time to unload unwanted chars! Or torture them >> We all love torture.)

[archenstone]

It was shortly before Asharra's shift and she was taking her usual walk down the river when she spotted a body. She hurried over and seeing the blood, kneeled down and looked around. He hadn't done this to himself. Another would have had to have attacked him. She felt a pang of anxiety. She had no way to contact the Weyr with out going back. It was one of those rare moments that she would have liked to see a pesky fire lizard or one of those abominable salamanders.

I need to do what I can now. She felt for a pulse, feeling the weak throb against his neck. He was so pale and his breathing so soft she had feared him dead. But he was alive, so she would do what she could yes? She tugged against her ankle length skirt, feeling the fabric give after a few tries. She carefully felt the wound on the back of his head, the depression was rather deep for a rock throw. She frowned, she could staunch the flow for now....but he needed alot more than this. He needed stitches at the very least...and she would probably have to employ skills she hadn't needed since her time in Crom.

Some fire lizard or another fluttered to the river. Yes! "Hey! Lizard...tell your human we need help!" She called out to it...but instead of acknowledging her it drank from the river and began convulsing. Her eyes widened out in shock. What would do that? She trembled slightly as she shifted the man to place him in a more stable condition. It was no telling when he would die. It could be right now.

What can poison a dragon? Harming dragons had never been a plan for her so it took her a bit to draw a couple conclusions. But how could anyone poison the river? She looked down at the man again and finally looked at his face long enough to recognize him. "By the Egg...its Ka'rys!" If she left he could die. If she didn't get help...he would probably be dead. Cursing the fact that she was not strong enough to haul the man safely she hurried off to the infirmary.

She reached it....realizing that what had happened to the flitter must have happened to others as well as the infirmary was buzzing. She stopped a random healer. "I need a stretcher at the river. Ka'rys is in critical condition!"

[tarra]

Three candles. Three friends. Not all of them had been close or his closest companions, but each of them had been kind to him in their own way.

S'kor cupped his arms around his legs, drawing up his knees to just beneath his chin. The candles burned bright on the grassy sward near his boots, framed by the flicker and rustle of the river running blue behind them. Their gleam threw glints of light into his pale brown eyes, brought hints of chestnut out in his dark hair. The fading light of day wore away, and the glow cast by the three flames grew. A soft sigh escaped his lips with his words.

"Y'mond." He had been a brownrider, his companion in the Wing and mentor to the young S'kor during his early struggles with Weyr life and culture. He owed much to the gruff older man, though he would never have admitted it to his face. And now he was gone - forever.

"G'frey." A greenrider, fun-loving in his antics and relentless in his pursuit of S'kor as a love interest - gender and sexual preferences nothwithstanding. When the initial annoyance had worn off, the bronzerider had found him an amusing companion and a good friend. Though he made sure that Morreliath never saw fit to Chase Torpith when she Rose.

"Tally."

His eyes lingered longest on the last candle. He blinked before turning away. She had been a good rider, a little risque but a loyal friend and companion. She had believed in him, even after everyone else thought he would never amount to anything - a daddy's boy, running after a family that would never accept him. But after Merinath's death she had died too, in a sense. And then the Seige had come and taken her, taken all of them. He would never forget them as long as he lived.

He feared that he might soon have so many to remember that he forgot anyway.

The light cast by the candles flickered over movement - a pale coppery flash, drawing in towards the bronzerider's left. Light shimmered on gleaming hide, reflected off pale headknobs and glimmered in pale blue eyes as the great bronze dragon lowered his head to his rider.

Mine, you dwell too much on the past. They are gone, their memories honoured. There is no need to keep repeating what has already passed.

S'kor sighed again, Morry, we've been through this. They were good friends...and to me, this is my way of honouring the past. Of remembering.

Even so, I still think you put too much on them, the bronze's tail curled in behind the man with his little candles, barring out the wind from their backs, How can we meet the future if all you do is stay in the past?

The bronzerider ran a hand through his hair, rendering it scruffier than it already was, I am not about to be drawn into another debate with you. If you want to accompany me on this you should at least give me some peace...

A thin, inhuman wail shattered his thoughts. Jerking up, he stayed perched on his knees for a long moment as the wail rose and rose, and suddenly at the peak of its cry fell away into a frightening silence. In the same instant someone screamed, away to their right, and he scrambled onto his feet.

"Gone gone, all gone!"

The words were almost inaudible, the voice undoubtably that of a woman's. It was another second before S'kor recognised her and Morreliath's thoughts hit him.

She is upriver, this way.

The big dragon rose and whirled to barrel his way towards the sound. A few saplings and a small tree crumpled before his advance. S'kor ran silent beside him, trusting his mindmate to know the woman's whereabouts as much as to keep aware of any danger in their surroundings. One hand was clenched on the long knife he always carried at his belt. With a rumble the bronze ripped another sapling away, and then ground to a halt two dragonlengths from a long haired woman crouched on the ground before them.

S'kor opened his mouth to speak, then promptly shut it again. Moving with soft steps, he made his way to the woman's side and placed a hand on her shoulder. She ignored him in her sobs, all her attention on the sleek green wher huddled, ungainly, beneath her. For a long moment he stayed quiet, brown eyes scanning the area for danger, human or otherwise. Finally he spoke.

"Marian."

She looked up at his voice. She was young, still in her late teens, and she had Impressed her green just over two turns before. He knew her as a cheerful youngster who had become grim and cynical as the realities of Weyr and wher life crashed in on her. And now, it seemed that reality had taken her beloved Marisk from her as well. The hopeless despair in her blue eyes tore at him, but he could not give in to comforting her. Not yet.

"I'm sorry," he turned his gaze to the motionless wher, "How did it happen?"

She babbled something he could not hear, pointed with an outstretched arm to the river, and began sobbing again. Morreliath rumbled low in his throat and swung his neck out over the waters. He had lowered his head almost to the surface with nostrils distended when his entire frame went rigid. S'kor's brows knit into a frown as he caught the focus of his mindmate's attention: two dead firelizards and a salamandyr on the opposite bank. The salamandyr lay limp close to the water edge, its head and tail thrown back in agony. The firelizards' muzzles were still in the water.

Stay back Morry!

A blast of air snorted from the dragon's maw as he pulled away, It is the water! There must be something in the water.

Aye, I'll bet. There were few better ways of doing extensive damage to an area, Weyr included, than by poisoning the Selenitas River. Turning back to the sobbing girl, now collapsed over her wher, S'kor rubbed his hand down heer back once more incomfort, then stood as he looked up at Morreliath.

Contact the Weyr, Morry. We need to warn them...and then find out how many have died this day.

The great bronze rumbled again, and then sent out an open broadcast.

Attention all. Mine and myself have found a dead wher and firelizards by the Selenitas River. We believe it is tainted. We will need supplies and search parties to determine the extent of the damage.