genocide [plot!]

[Ruby]

Big Scary, were Red's final words on the subject, then she lapsed back into her usual silence. Really, that had been more words than Piden had heard her say together in a very long time. No matter, there was something affirmative about it, so hopefully Nuoth would understand that Piden would wake the Wherhandlers and get them to the Hatching Sands. Then the salamandyr turned to her humanpet, leaping at his face and snuggling into his hair. To big sands, she explained. Take Deskys. She was trembling like a leaf, obviously terrified of what she had just done and what was apparently going on in the Weyr.

"Shhh," Piden soothed her, pulling on a heavy duty hide jacket and fastening a belt over his pajamas. He proceeded to shove the one knife he owned and any other sharp things he could find (pen included) behind the belt, then he grabbed a stack of clean, long-sleeved shirts out of his chest. He also removed the blindfold he used for Pidesk when the Bronze felt he needed to go outside during the day, which happened occasionally. "Up, Pidesk," he called, although really it was unnecessary. Red's shout had woken the Bronze as well, he just hadn't gotten to his feet yet. He hopped to when his Handler asked, though, even lowering his head for the blindfold. He'd listened to the little Green as well, and knew what was expected. He could always see through his Handler's eyes.

Placing his head over Piden's shoulder, the now-blind Pidesk followed His into the hall. "Wait here," Piden cautioned just outside the door, still lugging his armful of shirts. Once Pidesk had withdrawn his head, Piden started raising hell. Pidesk still remembered missing the Siege, leaving his clutchsiblings in danger. Piden would not be allowed to do something that irresponsible again, and Pidesk was a good motivator. He loved his fellow Whers almost as much as he loved his handler.

"UP! OUT!" Piden roared, banging on doors as he bolted down the hall. "EVERYONE TO THE HATCHING SANDS, NOW. OUT!" he bellowed. "I have blindfolds for your Whers if you can't find yours," he added as people started emerging. That's what the shirts were for- the long sleeves were just long enough to tie over Wher eyes. It was a sign of how much Piden was invested in protecting his brethren that he was sacrificing his clothing. "COME ON, everyone! I know there are strangers, but otherwise I want to know what is going on! We might have to protect Weyrfolk!"

Once the Wherhandlers were assembled in the halls, blindfolds in place, Piden led them out. They were a fairly slow-moving bunch, what with all their charges being blind, but they made it to the Hatching Sands soon enough. While the others dispersed, Piden stayed near the entrance, knife in hand. He would not risk his Wher, no matter what was coming.

[glamourie]

They will forget and forgive, as they have forgotten and forgiven those who took Jessereth, Kindrith and the others from us. They are quick to forgive and it is why we get attacked as often as we do. They will remember briefly, but will they realize the error of their ways? They would not be Selenitas if they did. The anger in Ciceroth’s mind voice left no way to mistake his words as a compliment. They weren’t. He found that to be one of Selenitas’s greatest weaknesses and it was coming back, continually, to haunt them. There was no questioning that the people who tried to steal Hepaticath’s egg would be forgiven for their transgressions – viewed as victims, even. Selenitas failed to see the bigger picture: that they came to Selenitas put all of them at risk. And every life lost as on those people’s heads. But they would be forgiven, they would be treated with consideration and accepted because they arrived covered in blood and hurting. He had no sympathy for those who put His and Selenitas – all of which was his in Ciceroth’s mind – at risk.

There was a time when Ka’rys would have been similarly offended. But those days were gone, and with them was the bronzerider’s ability to care beyond superficial agitation. A switch got hit inside of him and with it came disinterest and apathy. Lack of feeling at all. Ciceroth’s anger was almost enough to trigger his own – almost. Mostly Ka’rys just didn’t feel like bothering. He went from table to table, quietly requesting the weyrstaff move to the hatching sands, all without even so much as acknowledging the other riders present.

The bronze, meanwhile, was surprised by Jingth’s comment – surprised and curious. He didn’t ask though. If Salenth was cramming them all into the hatching sands, that was his prerogative. The bronze twitched his tail and swiveled his head before silently inquiring of Salenth – since His was distracted – Does Yours want anything of us after Mine finishes playing messenger? His ‘voice’ was clear of the annoyance he felt at that fact but barely. Ciceroth remained just out of reach, watching the High Reaches dragons with contempt. His tail flicked back and forth, the judgment he felt showing through in his gaze and his posture. It was hard not to focus on them entirely, despite the continual prodding to watch their surroundings by his ever-paranoid rider. Ka’rys was anxious about others in the woods. Ciceroth was anxious to get bronze hide beneath his claws. He had no tolerance for any of them being there, period. The drudges and staff are nearly gone and if we are not needed, I would like to get back to Hepaticath, and Rysmine does not want to be in a tree.

It wasn’t that they wanted to slack but – Ka’rys didn’t see a point in even being there. He felt like he would be better suited to sitting in his weyr than the main hall, or anywhere else. And Ciceroth wanted him out of the tree too – he remembered too vividly what happened before and things exploding were bad. His was still relatively hurt and it seemed like they weren’t needed anyway. Morreliath and Salenth were handling it all. Has anyone thought to inform the infirmary staff that there are injured parties incoming? No, he hadn’t been listening to anything not directed at him. Listening made him angry and he was trying to remain calm. He also felt protective of His, and though Ka’rys saw no virtue in voicing his annoyance, he was irritated. Being useless was unpleasant, and they were obviously not wanted there. Annoyed bronze was annoyed.

[Avu]

As Aonith departed with D’ned on a stretcher, Tiaganth’s head lifted, the first shine of life since his landing passing through his gaze; anxiety. The pale bronze wings spread, lethargic, weary, pained, and the bronze rumbled, so softly as to be inaudible, before he half-stumbled and half-lunged into the air. Despite his clumsiness, the bronze still managed to fly, and followed the green slowly towards the Infirmary; it was clear by the whiteness touching his eyes that His would have to be cared for immediately and very carefully. He came to land on the same ledge that Aonith had dropped D’ned off at, and immediately lowered his head towards his Rider before bespeaking Aonith. Should I remain here? The words were private, quiet, pained, weak – very, very resigned.

Meanwhile, the other dragons all followed Morreliath, Jeviniath a bit slower given that Z’ther was trying to hold on to Enysa at the same time in an attempt to comfort the greenrider, who looked to be so terrified that she was calm. As the bronze ordered them to the weyrledges, each dragon obeyed unquestioningly, Iocyeth sweeping down to land beside along with the other dragon and throwing her head back up to look for Enysa anxiously. The dragons all settled onto their stomachs, some edging closer to others after their Riders had dismounted, looking for comfort from each other, but Iocyeth had to coil to one side in order to make room for Jeviniath to land so Z’ther could help Enysa dismount.

The bronze dragon’s demanding, though, would have irritated Jeviniath to no end if Z’ther hadn’t been so grateful to them; how did he know where His was needed? Had Salenth felt it necessary to tell Morreliath after he’d already offered to bring him back? Thank you. I am aware. The words were calm nonetheless as he pushed off of the ledge again with another soft croon of reassurance to Iocyeth, who immediately curled around Enysa. The inquiry as to their names elicited a few rustles of wings before each dragon in turn spoke their name, and that of their Rider, to the bronze.

Iocyeth of Enysa.
Ephrenth of V’kir.

Each of the others offered their names as well, severing the connection almost immediately afterwards; from the fidgeting displayed by their human counterparts, it was clear the shock of whatever had happened had not worn off yet – of them, even if their dragons were calm and coherent.

Meanwhile, Jeviniath swept in to land again on the landing pad of the Main Hall, letting Z’ther drop down again. The bronze dragon settled, unobtrusive, as his Rider trotted into the Main Hall after S’rei, glancing around in attempt to find the Weyrleader. As soon as he spotted the man, Z’ther padded over to join him nervously, clearing his throat awkwardly before he bobbed slightly on his feet. “What can I do…?” he inquired softly, clearly unsure.

[[Only Enysa, V’kir, Z’ther, D’ned, and their respective dragons are gonna be named, Tarra, so if you could just blur over the others, that’d be awesome.]]

[Rowana]

T'ke watched with relief that no one question him too much. Even the older weyrfolk started for the exit when he asked. In truth, they had probably already been thinking it and just needed it said aloud. He had just turned to follow them out when someone said his name. T'ke practically jumped out of his skin and had to bit his tongue to hold back a little yelp. He had hoped he'd get away without being asked to do anything important. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to be useful so far.

He turn, careful to keep his eyes up and away from the bleeding form on the ground. I must not faint, he intoned firmly. I will not faint. S'kor, a bronzerider and wingsecond, was the one who had called him over. T'ke felt his legs turn to jelly. Was he serious?! Did he have any idea who he was asking to do this? T'ke glanced around him nervously, but there wasn't anyone else. He swallowed hard and nodded. He didn't dare open his mouth to speak for fear of what else might come out. Shards, why were they even helping these people!

T'ke did his best to help. He kept his eyes on S'kor or Dorova, avoiding contact with the blood when possible. His stomach churned wildly. I must not faint, he continued in silent mantra. The moved the injured man outside. I must not faint. They secured him underneath Aonith. I must not faint. Aonith took off for the infirmary. You did it, T'ke-mine! T'ke blinked and looked down, his concentration ruined. There was blood all over his shirt and hands. He felt his knees shaking, but he'd been concentrating so hard on his head that he'd forgotten his churning stomach.

T'ke ran for the kitchen door. He dropped to his knees just out of site while he empty what was left of lunch and breakfast. He got up shakily when he was done, leaning against a wall for support. Aw man, Garaeth, he grumbled sarcastically. Thanks a lot. You are welcome! Garaeth chirped brightly. And see? You did not faint. T'ke wrinkled his noise at the smell. Yeah, cause this is so much better. At least he hadn't done it all over the injured man. Garaeth was right. He had done it.

[kat]

She was being woken up during daylight. That in itself alerted Ari that something was very, very wrong. The handlers were never woken during the hours when then needed to sleep. Nor were the wherlings. She sat up, and her worry immediately awakened Ariysk. The bronze, who had been growing at an astonishingly rapid rate, sat up, blinking in the dull glow light that lit their shared room and den. He looked at his bonded and uttered a low, displeased growl at the unknown person in their room. Then, they were told to go to the hatching sands, and Ari felt her fears were being confirmed. Something was very wrong indeed. Still, she knew the drill. If a wher pairing was awakened during daylight, the wher would be blindfolded and led by its bonded. Too big to carry, the bronze would have to be led by her.

Her canine, Roo, got up as well, hackles rising at the sudden intrusion and loud yelling. As much a guardian as Ariysk, the ten month old pup knew something was amiss. Still, when Ari placed a hand on her head, she whimpered, tail giving a brief wag. Ari nodded, and then went into the drawers and pulled out a darker colored shirt, tying it around the wher's eyes and doing it up firmly at the back.

"Come, Roo," she commanded, and the canine, though ill used to being about during these hours, followed loyally by her side. A wher at one side, and a canine at the other, she felt her heart beating rapidly nonetheless. Still, when Ariysk nudged her as though to let her know he would protect her, she had to smile. Yes, he would, wouldn't he? Still, something was amiss, and she didn't know what. She supposed she might find out when she reached the hatching sands. She would not like what it was when she did.

There were many people already in the sands. There were Weyrfolk all up in the stands, and Weyrlings were gathered on the sands themselves. She paled a little, swallowing back nerves. What was going on? She spotted Piden, who had led them there, and decided to ask if he knew, first. He was the one to alert them all, after all. She walked up, followed still by the blindfolded and malcontent Ariysk, and then asked as calmly as she could manage, "excuse me, do you know what's going on? Why is everyone here?" She forced herself to calm down. Her worrying wouldn't help herself, or anyone else. It helped to feel her wher's solid confidence, and yet until she knew what was amiss, she found herself assuming the worst. Were they under attack? She had come after all the battles, and yet would they happen again? Her concern was very real, and she hoped it was anything but that.

~~~~~~

Mine, what is happening? Dragons are sick, and why are we going to the sands?[/color]

Kiana remained calm as she led the fearful young dragon to the hatching sands. The truth was, she didn't entirely know. All she had gotten was that injured and ill dragonriders and dragons from some other Weyr were here. That everyone was to go to the hatching sands immediately, herself included. Still, she was a level headed girl, and wouldn't panic or get worked up. She wanted to know what was going on just as much as her green companion, and yet as she held her snowy white feline in her arms and led the green to the sands, she had a bad feeling she would not like what she found out.

She spotted a line of blindfolded whers and their handlers headed to the sands as well, and inhaled sharply. Not good. If the whers were being sent, as well? It was daylight, they were being forced to go too, and that only meant something big was amiss. Who were the dragonriders? Where were they from? She found herself quickening her pace holding a small light crate for Winter which she hadn't time to put the feline in, but would do so when they reached the sands. She wasn't about to leave her beloved feline behind, after all. If it was something serious, no one would be left behind, not on her watch.

The strings of people heading to the sands seemed to include all but the dragonriders themselves! The whole Weyr, it looked like, was heading there. Of course, the sands were the best place for them to go, as everyone could gather there, in that protected place. Were they being invaded, perhaps? That thought caused the hair on the back of her neck to rise, and goosebumps. What other reason would there be, however? Still, she kept these concerns from her young green as best she could. 'Zanth was already in a panicked state as it was, and she wouldn't worry her further.

"Everyone is going, 'Zanth. Don't worry, I'm sure everything will be fine. Besides, you'll get to meet the whers, and the older Weyrlings will be there, too."

She knew how fascinated Tuelzanth was by whers. This seemed to do the trick, and the young dragon's fears were replaced somewhat by excitement. She looked at hers, and then asked hopefully, Will it, mine? I want to meet the whers,[/color] came the admittance. Kiana didn't know that it would be all right. But it was better to let on that she thought it would, rather than that she was concerned it would not be.

"Of course. I'm with you, after all, and there are lots of big dragons who will make sure of it," she told the green with a reassuring smile. She would have pet her, but they had almost reached the sands now, and once they had, she paused to crate the protesting Winter. The feline did not like being confined, and Kia couldn't blame her. Still, it was necessary. Besides, she couldn't believe how many people were on the sands. She took a deep breath, and then took Tuelzanth to a relatively cooler spot, awaiting to hear what was going on. She was sure they'd be told, and she was sure it had something to do with the sick dragons and their riders. That much, at least, she was certain of. Right now, she could do nothing except to be there for her dragon.

[Requiem]

S'rei was seething, and Ciceroth's lovely little commentary wasn't helping any. He hissed to his dragon beneath his breath. "I don't care what Ka'rys does. Go play footsie with Savitri, run and hide under a rock, whatever. Maybe he'll get lucky and jump someone to practice his skinning." The Weyrleader's anger fizzled into something colder as he turned his head slowly to regard Z'ther. The brief flicker of a grin that should have disturbed almost anyone passed over his lips, eyes narrowing. "Oh, yes, I'm sure I can find a use for you, boy. You want to come here and give Fort an excuse? Better believe I'm using you." His tone didn't make that sound like a particularly good thing, not at all.

And, before the man-child could spook, his hand fell on his shoulder, the grip unyielding. He could have waited for Salenth, who was still looking for a better way to phrase...S'rei's verbal fit at Ciceroth and Ka'rys. Could have, but didn't. Selenitas was in chaos, and he couldn't hope to get it back under control alone, was positive he and Salenth were missing things in the rush. And his wingleader - his weyrsecond - was complaining about being in trees. Playing messenger. If the man wasn't going to do anything but bitch and play the 'what's best for Ka'rys' game, S'rei didn't need him here. In fact, the temptation to break his face was nearly maddening.

"One last...errand, before you scuttle off," he stated flatly to the useless bronzerider. "Catch one of the drudges and send them my way. And inform your wing that I'm taking volunteers...not many...to come to the Main Hall." S'rei breezed past, pleased to see that most of the place had emptied by now. Good. Time to throw up what defenses they could manage.

Morreliath, Mine needs someone who won't panic at the Hatching Grounds. Call up the wing and have them assemble...probably in the trees if you can manage. Go for concealment. The rest is up to you and Kierjaarth. Whers and wherhandlers can be useful...that place is exposed, but it's better than treehouses. Keep in contact with me as much as you can. Oh, and I need one or two volunteers to come to the Main Hall. Salenth turned his attention to brown Ismaroth. Ismaroth, have your wing join you at the infirmary. You'll be in charge of defenses there. If you need help, ask...Mine will send a few older riders to help. The infirmary will likely be hit hard, so you'll have to outwit them.

The bronze could aid Ismaroth in putting that together, but if the brown, his rider and the wingseconds could manage that on their own it would give S'rei and Salenth more breathing room, which they needed. Because Salenth had a seething rider and a raging bronze to deal with.

Ciceroth, Salenth stated, brushing the other's mind firmly. Raging will change nothing. All it does is make it impossible for you to be of much use. What's done is done. This is what I need: conceal your wing, and fall on the Fort dragons if they try to enter the infirmary by the ledges. Can you manage that? One attack to scatter them...then jump. None of the wings can handle a full skirmish with Fort.

And they were going to need every last bit of help they could get, sure enough.

[Tashe]

Yes Salenth. A pause as he turned to face in the direction of the Main Hall. It would improve our chances if we could have a few more experienced Dragons and Riders, half our wing is still... well, useless in Aerial combat. He didn't add 'against Northern Riders', since it was rather obvious. Turning his attention onto his wingmates, Ismaroth contacted them. Maelstrom Wing. Unless you have been given previous orders by Salenth, you are to report to the Infirmary. Bring bags of Firestone, be prepared for a possible attack.

Next he turned inward and contacted his human. Ermine. Salenth has put us in charge of defending the Infirmary. Our wing is coming to assist us and I have requested supplemental Dragonpairs with experience. Oh good. We might survive a few extra minutes against a fighting Wing. Ermine. Yeahyeah. I'll go alert the people in the infirmary and start preparations in here. I'll send somebody out to tie on your Firestone bags on. Be out as soon as I can. Keep an eye on the skies for our wing.