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Post by rii on Jan 27, 2010 11:52:47 GMT -5
Built into the cliffside, the weyrledge for dragon landings is large enough to accommodate three full sized queens and is something of a gaping wound open to the innards of the infirmary. On the other end is the hallway entrance, accessed by stairs and big enough for only humans.
Shortly after the arrival of the injured bronze rider from High Reaches the sense of unease began to knit it's way between the shoulders of those more sensitive to it. Those that survived the Seige from Benden may find the atmosphere familiar and, of course, unwelcome. The tension in the air only thickens upon the arrival of the Blizzard and Maelstrom Wings..
The fog that rolled in only adds to the sinking sensation as eyes begin to apprehensively turn toward the sky viewable beyond the weyrledge. Watching, waiting, dreading.. [Ooc: there will be injuries flying around in this thread. If you want your character hurt ( just a bit for fun, or more serious because you love being cruel to your character like some of us <3 ) send me a PM. Otherwise, I will take any lack of response as consent to do any non-permanent damage as I see fit.]
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Post by glamourie on Jan 27, 2010 20:23:45 GMT -5
He was still alive. It was actually a miracle, all things considered. The bronzerider’s injuries were bad enough that R’wign was almost angry that he’d been brought to the infirmary in the first place. The healer took death as a personal slight – as if he’d done something wrong, failed in some way – and he hated being presented with patients that were basically incurable. For all appearances, the injured former wingsecond was in bad enough condition that he strongly suspected there was no way that anyone could help him. Yet despite that, R’wign wasn’t capable of not trying. He just wasn’t. M’ta put it correctly: he had a heart that bled way too easily. High Reaches hadn’t done him any favors lately – in fact they were the reason that his weyrmate was down at the Hatching Sands with Meira instead of in the infirmary trailing after him and being taught the basics of healing. (Actually, he wasn’t sure why Meira and Jingth were there either and added it up to them being completely crazy – but whatever.) R’wign lifted one hand and rubbed his temples irritably as he left the isolation room that the injured bronzerider (he refused to ask the name until he was sure the man would survive) was in.
This is going to be such a mess. Want to watch LoverYours, Vex does, the salamandyr stated from R’wign’s shoulder (her new favorite perch after booting Stumpy off of it). Worry, belovedMine does, about him. Will watch, keep LoverYours safe. May Vex?
“No. Stay put. I don’t want you out of my sight. If you go anywhere, it better be a really small crevice where no one can spot you,” R’wign grumbled, glancing at his salamandyr for emphasis. She puffed up, but did not otherwise disobey. He did appreciate her desire to ease his worries – he did – but he knew very well what a danger it could be to have Vex out in the open. No one had lost a salamandyr before, but it was definitely a logic jump that they connected to their mindmates almost as heavily as dragons and he didn’t know if he could handle the loss of Vex. It wasn’t worth the risk. Behruth would keep Checkoth in the loop, he was sure. Checkoth was fretting enough for two or three people.
The brown in question was inside the infirmary – specifically, he’d moved into the dragon side of the infirmary to be out of sight and was curled up in the far back… pleading with R’wign to stay near him so that he could eat anyone who posed a threat. Literally, from the sounds of things. R’wign found the philosophy mildly hilarious. Checkoth wasn’t capable of hurting a human being – he just wasn’t. Not intentionally anyway. The dragon was too nice for his own good. R’wign didn’t have the heart to explain that, but he also felt he did better checking on the patients rather than stressing about whether or not Fort was going to come after High Reaches. It was – perhaps fortunate – that aside from a very hasty procedure to put the High Reaches wingsecond back together, there wasn’t much to be done. Technically, he should’ve been overseeing him, but there were apprentices to watch over the sleeping body and anyway he had to be moving. He was too anxious to sit still.
“Savitriiii, I want my baby back.”
And with that, R’wign stalked across the infirmary after the senior apprentice. He’d asked Savitri to watch Terilyn while he was putting the bronzerider back together (with help, of course); she was one of the few people he’d trust with the baby, which was ironic considering he didn’t even like Savitri. She had her own babies, not too much older than Terilyn was, and he believed she was incapable of harming the kid. She knew how to take care of her, that was good enough for him. Tugging the bloodied apron off over his head, R’wign tossed it into the nearest hamper and scurried over to the goldrider. Once he was near enough to her that they wouldn’t be overheard, he offered his arms for the child and then asked quietly, “Do you know if the hall entry is being blocked off…?” Nothing was set in stone – no one knew for sure Fort would even come – but… it seemed like a fair guess. And there were two wings stationed at the infirmary. “And what our instructions are from E’rro and Ka’rys? If there are any…?”
The infirmary has two entrances. One is the dragonledge, one is a hall entrance. We have to make sure that both are secured. Phremath, can you ask Yours to make sure that everything in the infirmary is pushed back into the heart of the infirmary?
The instruction to Phremath was simple: He wanted to make sure that everything was far enough inside that stray flames wouldn’t catch anything. Asking Phremath was for a purpose as well; Ciceroth did not believe her capable of fighting and Ka’rys was reluctant to put Hers in harm’s way, given that she was likely going to be a target if they were attacked. The extent of their willingness to involve Kalierre was just that: Letting her do what she was good at by managing the interior of the infirmary. They’d need as much organization as possible and Ka’rys could not be bothered with trying to organize the healers and their ilk as well as his wing; he wasn’t sure he even knew what he was doing with his wing. Not the most confident of approaches, but he hadn’t asked to be wingleader. At least Ciceroth knew what to do or sounded enough like it to pass.
There were a few people on his wing that Ciceroth and Ka’rys both thought incapable of fighting. Fiona of Raiyth was another example – and Ka’rys was doing his best to try and find uses for them despite that. Everyone had to have a purpose. To Raiyth, Ciceroth passed the instruction – Raiyth, you and Yours need to bring a lot of extra firestone to the dragon side of the infirmary. We don’t have a lot of time. We will need you and Yours to be fast –and careful –in bringing supplies up to the infirmary. You will have no other job. If they come – when they come – you will be in charge of keeping us supplied and yourself alive. You and Yours can do this, yes? You must bring enough for Ismaroth’s wing as well. It was an extremely dangerous job. Yes, Ka’rys and Ciceroth knew that. It was one of the only non-fighting assignments they could give, though and Raiyth was a green. If anyone could pull it off, a green could.
Dohulth, Ruskeath, Iorath, Hokth – we need all of Yours stationed at the front entrance of the infirmary. Be ready to fight. Tell them to try to stay out of sight, but you may have to eliminate anyone who tries to enter from that direction – after they give you firestone. You four will be doing another job. I want you all on the ground, in the brush – hide yourselves as best possible. Be ready to take off from below. If dragons are coming toward the infirmary, you’re going to attack from below with your claws and teeth, and flame if needed. Wings and undersides are what you want to aim for. Throats if possible. Protect your own throats, wings and undersides as well. You are the ones we’re keeping out of sight. Be careful.
As for the rest…? Kynoath, Castidenloth, Ylonth – you’re with me. We’re going to fly to the other side of the gorge and tuck into the weyrs over there – just out of sight – ready to launch at anyone who shows up. We will be seen first. Make sure Yours give you firestone and be ready to fight as needed. Yours are to stay with you, as we will probably have to between a lot. As with them, be ready to protect your wings, undersides and necks as needed. Those are going to be your primary targets. Flicking his tail, Ciceroth turned from his perch on the top of the gorge toward Ismaroth. He’d been projecting to the other brown for a reason. It would probably be beneficial if many of your Wing were at the entrance, Ismaroth. Raiyth will be bringing firestone for you and your wing as well. If we can organize together, we will probably be better benefitted. Mine is staying with me; Yours might be better in the infirmary fighting, if you are comfortable with it. We do not have very many fighters in the infirmary. Let us know what your wing’s intentions are and we will coordinate with you as best we can.
Turning on his wing, Ciceroth leapt from the top perch and swept down into the gorge. Phremath, if Yours could do something about the bridges, that would also be beneficial. They need to be untied, broken even; we can rebuild them, but we do not want anyone coming across them to the infirmary. Thank you. Without waiting for a response, the bronze landed on a usurped weyrledge and slipped backwards inside – out of sight. The problem with being painfully pale was that he stood out – a lot. He’d have to be careful not to move… and he’d have to trust RysHis’s eyes. His own were not very good in the darkness.
Rysmine asked me to tell you, Ciceroth tacked on to Hepaticath, That it is probably better if you stay out of sight. He added for me to ask you to make sure Yours does not have on her knots – just in case. Today she is an apprentice, nothing more. They probably will not recognize her on sight. Is the hatchling there with you?
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Tashe
Shiny Hoarder
Weyrwoman Kaegan Dragonhealer E'rro Rider K'thay Woodcrafter E'iah Healer Raylanne Healer Ithanna Harper Zemaren [color=0BDA5
"When the Butterfly emurges, does the caterpillar no longer exist?"
Posts: 1,401
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Post by Tashe on Jan 27, 2010 21:30:45 GMT -5
Tapping his finger on his arm, E'rro swept his gaze from one side of the Weyr to the other. He had been watching the fog as it rolled in. He had been given a double edged sword, as the expression went. The fog would help hide the movements of their Wings, but it would also hamper their vision if attacked. Not if, he corrected himself, when. If Fort wanted all of High Reaches dead, they wouldn't stop until they finished the task. And since Selenitas decided to take the fleeing Riders in? Well, he knew better than to think the enemy wouldn't stop in the face of the small southern Weyr. Currently he was waiting for the Riders of his wing to assemble, he intended to hand out assignments and have them jump to it almost immediately. Non-martial personnel were of the highest priority, Healers and the injured Bronzerider he pegged as targets. As he felt his Brown stir, E'rro slipped back farther into the Infirmary.
Of course. Flaring his wings slightly, Ismaroth swung his head around as Ciceroth's voice addressed him directly. We were intending to keep most of our wing in or near the Infirmary. As I give preliminary orders, I will project them to you. He shifted his attention onto his wing. Pagoth, Garaeth, Cherlith, and Uminth. Relay to Yours that they are to come into the infirmary. We need them to help protect the inhabitants. Have them feed you firestone before they come, and they will report directly to Mine. A pause. Garaeth and Uminth, fly down the gorge and find a place to hide, but make sure you're able to see. If they come flying through instead of betweening, we will need as much notice as possible. Stay hidden until otherwise told, or you're in direct danger. Peppeth, I need you and Yours to hang back with Raiyth and Hers. Help by making sure they don't run out of firestone to pass around. Be careful.
Dsoleth, Jaymith, and Pettahth. You three, along with your riders are to hide as close to the Infirmary as possible without being seen. If anyone breaks through the Blizzard wing, I want you to aid them in fighting. Go for their wings, throats and underbellies, but protect your own as best you can. Dsoleth, you will be leading the other two. To his wingsecond; We are trusting that you and Your's will know when to jump in. Ciceroth has his Wing hidden as well.
Cherlith and Pagoth, you will be with me. We too will be hiding in Weyrs near by. We will assist our Wing and the Blizzard Wing when needed. If a Dragon slips through and tries to land on the Infirmary ledge, we will move to detour them. We must be fast and attack from above. Use flame and try not to directly engage unless needed. He turned inward. Ermine. Ciceroth is sending Dohulth's, Ruskeath's, Iorath's, and Hokth's to you to aid in protecting the infirmary. They will be arriving momentarily. Leaping off of the ridge, Ismaroth alighted on the closest, highest Weyrledge before mimicing the Bronze and situating himself inside of it. He didn't like the idea of fighting without E'rro on his neck, but war did not make room for discomfort.
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Yes Wingleader. Shifting under his Rider, Hokth touched Saraina's mind. Mine, you are ordered to go to the infirmary and help protect the main entrance. And you? I'm to hide myself in the brush and wait to attack any Dragon heading toward the Infirmary. Turning his head so that his mouth was close to her, Hokth opened it. Firestone please Saramine, and then I will fly you to the Infirmary. Reaching into the nets, the Bluerider began shoveling the stone in handfuls until Hokth was satisfied with the amount. She would have preferred to be fighting with her Blue, but Saraina wasn't about to go against the orders of her Wingleader. Leaning forward as the Blue took off, she tried not to bite the inside of her lip in anxiety. The last time Saraina had fought hand to hand, she almost drowned in the River. It was fortunate then, that there was no chance of that in the Infirmary.
As Hokth touched down on the landing ledge, the Rider released herself from the safety straps and slid down. Checking her weapons, Saraina grunted in satisfaction before rubbing the end of her Blue's nose. Go now. Others will be coming to drop their Riders off. Love you mine. Aye, as do I Hokth. Fight bravely, love. Retreating into the infirmary, Sara felt her hair stir as Hokth took off, her best wishes going with him. Seeking out the Maelstrom Wingleader, the Bluerider made her way over to him. She knew her orders, but the Brownrider probably had a place where he wanted her.
Meanwhile Hokth circled downward until he found a spot shadowed enough to hide his light blue body. He would only be seen if the Dragon was directly over him, though by that time he expected to be in the air and tasting ichor.
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He hissed quietly to himself as Ciceroth's mind touched his, the Bronze's voice prominent in his mind. Yes Leader. Castidenloth was not excited to fight against Fort, the wound of leaving the Weyr was still raw. He did not doubt that he would see at least one of his former Wingmates. Casti, this is our Weyr now. They are the enemy. We just do what we're told. Despite trying to, his Rider could not hide his own inhibitions. He wasn't entirely thrilled about facing the Riders he once knew so soon after convincing them of his death. Speaking of orders. Give me a little more Firestone. Crunching the rock into gravel as it entered his mouth, the Blue huffed loudly voicing his discontent. Directing the rock into the right organ, Castidenloth leapt into the air. Eying the other Dragons who had sprung into action, he surveyed the entire area as K'thay blended with his sight. Wheeling downward, the Blue alighted on a nearby Weyrledge. Taking a few moments to memorize the area around him, Castidenloth crawled into the opening of the personal Weyr. It was much like his own, but it did not smell anything like his. This one was inhabited by a female.
The leather harness creaked slightly as he leaned backward, the straps keeping him in place as he stretched. Both he and Castidenloth were fit enough to fight. The Blue's neck had almost completely healed, the stitches had been removed but long scabs still ran down his neck. If those got torn off, it would mean another set of stitches. K'thay himself was better off than he had been upon arriving. His arm was still tender, the muscles having only just healed from the good pull he had given it. It was fortunate he hadn't been assigned to fight hand to hand, it was easier to hang on to Castidenloth's straps than wield a blade. Sitting up, the Bluerider tugged on the collar of his flight jacket, making sure that the fur was snug up against his neck. His skin was covered as much as possible, multiple trips into the Between was a cold business. He was ready to roll.
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Post by mierce on Jan 27, 2010 23:51:35 GMT -5
Iorath lifted his muzzle away from the pup of a canine’s endearing licks. His eyes flickered and he looked towards the door of His’ weyr. Evr, he began, his deep draconic voice brimming with apprehension at Ciceroth’s broadcast. Evrgarde appeared in the doorway, not yet knowing what was going on but sensing every bit of emotion coming from her Blue. Rider and dragon exchanged looks over the canine head before they both set to quickly preparing for combat.
Within minutes, Evrgarde had dressed in the heaviest of leathers that still granted her good mobility and Iorath had his fill in reserve firestone His kept in the weyr. Slung across Evrgarde’s back were a quiver of arrows and her reserve bow while in her hand she held her main bow. Hanging from her waist, was her ever present metal baton. Secured to the blue’s saddle were three slightly larger quivers, each filled with arrows, and a thick burlap sack containing what remained of her firestone stash--it wouldn’t do for the enemy to find it, after all.
Evrgarde gave her weyr a once over before pulling on her leather hood. She gathered the puppy under her arm and climbed onto Iorath’s neck. Lange chirped nervously as she settled in the space between the puppy and her human’s stomach. Considering their usual demeanor, both creatures were surprisingly subdued; they were quiet and obedient as Evrgarde prompted Iorath to lift off their ledge and make a direct line through the thick fog to the Infirmary.
Despite the urgency of the situation, Iorath still landed lightly on the rocky ledge where Evrgarde hopped off and quickly unloaded the quivers and sack from her Blue. Once Iorath was freed of the burden Evrgarde gave a firm slap on his haunches and he was off, diving deep into underbrush where Hokth had already found a hiding place. He took a cursory scan around, focusing on hearing any sounds of Fort riders already stationed to ambush before settling down, keeping himself in the shadows.
On the ledge, Evrgarde had found a suitable outcropping of rocky wall just inside of the entrance from where she could take cover if needed snipe in relative safety. Well, unless the enemy breeched the entrance. Or when, perhaps. She frowned as a hand reflexively went to her baton and the other to twin daggers strapped to her thigh; her hand-to-hand combat skills were not exactly spectacular.
Now is no time to be pessimistic. Evrgarde sighed and pulled the three quivers to her hiding spot. A bump against her let drew her attention towards the pup and flitter who were both peering up at her as if expecting orders. Did they think they were fighters? Feh.
“Go… comfort the injured or something,” she murmured, gently nudging the canine and his flitter passenger with her boot. “Stay out of sight.” The pup barked, wagged his tail, and bounded off deeper into the Infirmary. Evrgarde watched him for a moment, wondering if he actually understood her, then redirected her attention towards the entrance.
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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 Jan 28, 2010 1:27:09 GMT -5
She's on it, Cissy, Phremath responded, picking up on the tension in the air but translating it into excitement. And why not? Hers was hardly nervous. By the assessment of the dragonhealer, two full wings of dragons should be more than enough to seal off the infirmary; defending a place was far easier than attacking it when you had time to put defenses in place.
The woman raised her voice to be heard easily above the movements of the dragonriders and healers, leaning on her cane. Lust perched atop it, as usual, conversing with Phremath about something, though Kalierre wasn't sure what. "If you've a spare set of hands and any upper body strength whatsoever, the Weyrsecond wants the furniture away from the entrances. That means cots and curtains, too. Anything that might burn easily."
And, because she was a good sport, she began applying her back to a small side-table herself. Eyes flicking toward any riders lingering near the ledge, she called to E'rro, "Wingleader! We're low on staff. If you can spare a couple for a moment? Also need someone to cut threw the tethers for the rope bridge...that should take less than a minute. If you don't mind?" Tch, always fighting this nearly nonexistant staff...such a bother.
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Post by nightingale on Jan 28, 2010 10:22:34 GMT -5
When her salamandyrs were quiet, one could assume that Saeo's mind had become quite a dark place. Freckle was perched silently on a top shelf in the infirmary, tail swishing back and forth irregularly as her eyes shifted from gold to scarlet and back again. Baby had taken a place on the girl's shoulder, and was giving her ear an affectionate nibble as she set about tightening her dragon's riding straps. Cherilith himself stood facing the wind, his eyes an uneasy mix of blue and yellow as he awaited orders. They came, and he crooned low in his throat.
Wingleader Ismaroth. He brushed against the brown's mind. I do not wish to disobey, but Mine is a healer as well as a wingrider. Would you have us remain here as healers, or accompany you as warriors? He allowed a part of his mind to reach out and touch Saeo while awaiting an answer. Wingleader Ismaroth would like you to go inside. He told her gently. Saeo ran her fingers along one of his faint stripes, her eyes distant and stormy. The young blue nuzzled his rider gently, drawing a shiver from her small frame. C'oar will be fine. Farryl and T'ke are here with us. We will protect them my beautiful. Do not be afraid. “I'm not afraid.” She lied, knowing better than to think that she wouldn't be caught in it, but too stubborn not to try. She leaned in and gave Cherilith's neck a long squeeze, then turned and stepped back inside the infirmary with a half dozen backward glances fluttering in the corners of her eyes.
Yes my Wingleader. Jaymith's reply was made in a gracious tone of mindvoice. Ismaroth says that we are to hide nearby. The bronze informed his rider, tilting his massive wings so that he could swoop lower into the canyon. If the Blizzard Wing cannot hold them it is our duty to join the battle. Ke'rin would have winced had the wind in his face and the pull of his riding straps not held him fast. Combat -real combat, not just training and mock battles- was not something that history served him kindly. In fact, he distinctly remembered being stabbed in the chest the last time he had been forced into close combat...
The young man felt a gentle, anxious mind pressing against his thoughts. Oh, but Lamb knew that Hers would be alright. He was big and strong and oh, surely Hers had nothing to be frightened of? He had practiced so very hard after all! We are stronger now Ke'rinmine. Jaymith rumbled in agreement, taking a position low in the canyon just within the spray of the waterfall -a place where the faint glow of his hide would not give away their position. And we are bronze! We were born to protect our own, and that is exactly what we will do! Ke'rin took a deep breath, bowing his head against the cold spray. Jaymith was right, and he let the bronze dragon know it. This was the sort of thing that they had been bonded for, and he wasn't going to falter a second time.
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Post by kysseh on Jan 28, 2010 13:34:53 GMT -5
I am in our weyr, with the hatchling. Mine has conveniently forgotten her knots again. came Hepaticath’s quiet, even reply to Ciceroth, the gold’s demeanor noticeably subdued by the action going on around her. The gold was edgy about having Hers away from her in such a time, but good sense kept her hunkered down on her couch, waiting if she was needed. She was no fighter, even if she did have some training, and her presence would only have been a distraction… at best. No, now was a time to sit and wait, unfortunately enough, and she attempted to coil her neck around RysCiceroth’s hatchling, crooning quietly to the girl. We stay here for now, brave one. the gold spoke straight to Kalerary, not the least bit hesitant to do so. Perhaps the girl would find it comforting and stay still this time. SavitriHers remembered her tendency to run.
Savitri was grateful, yet again, for her own strange hatred of her outward sign of rank. She had purposefully left off all but her apprentice healer knots when she came to the infirmary, and it appeared that the action had been a wise one. Her mind was strangely calm, despite the threat, as if Hepaticath’s practical demeanor were, after over three Turns, finally rubbing off. The small things to be grateful for, no?
Her lips brushed lightly over the head of the baby in her arms, grateful for the distraction of a little squirmy human. Her own babies were away, safely stashed in a place where the war could (hopefully) not reach them, and her weyr had been too quiet as of late. “Shh, it’s all right. See? There’s your papa,” she murmured softly to the infant, briefly nodding at R’wign as he approached. When the brownrider extended his arms, she did not hesitate to pass over the child, lightly resting her hand on the girl’s back for a moment just for the sake of comfort. She did so miss her babies. “Hepaticath says they’re sending riders up to guard the entrance. The wings are splitting… guarding from below, from the weyrs… and the other weyr at the Hatching Sands… too much going on.” The goldrider closed her eyes and gave her head one brief shake, fingers massaging lightly at her temples. She appreciated Hepaticath for keeping her updated on the goings on, but oh was it making her head spin.
“No instructions for us, specifically. I assume getting ready for wounded. We’ll probably have some,” the young woman added, finally opening her eyes again at the senior dragonhealer’s call. “If you need me, call,” she added to R’wign before jogging over to help another apprentice start dragging some of the cots away from the infirmary entrances. It was good, having things to do. It kept her mind off her worrying, which was hardly a productive use of her time. “Shadow, I might need you,” she muttered breathlessly as they shoved the furniture out of the way of potential flames, grateful when the salamandyr’s mental images became more coherent as he awoke. Maybe they could use him…
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We understand, Ciceroth. We are flying to the firestone stores now. Raiyth answered in response to the bronze’s call, nudging lightly at Hers as Fiona leapt gracefully astride the green’s neck. The green’s tail was lashing in eagerness to get moving, to be of some use this time. She was of a steadier disposition than Hers, but Hers did not function well with violence. They would be carrying firestone to all of the fighters instead, which Raiyth privately thought was at least a bit better than having to sink her claws into another dragon. It was still going to be scary, though, and the green took a moment to mentally bolster Hers before they took off.
Fiona was grateful for her green’s strength, for she knew she would have been cowering in a corner otherwise. Fights and disagreements were not enjoyable, and since her usual method was to hyperventilate and pass out before she could be of much good, playing supply runner was better. This way, she could at least pretend she was not involved with hurting others. Pretending. That was good. You’ve got enough flame for… maybe a few bursts, just in case? Fiona asked suddenly as Raiyth backwinged to land on the nearest ledge to the stores. Just in case, right?
The dragon crooned in reassurance and lowered her neck to permit her rider to dismount, waiting patiently as ever to be loaded down with sacks of firestone. She could not carry many at once, but she was very quick when the need arose. They would do it. They had to. We are coming to the infirmary. Touch and go, very fast. If someone can help us get the sacks off, it would help. the green broadcasted to the dragons on the infirmary ledge, taking to the air a bit more slowly with her body laden down. It was so hard to see with the fog, and she nearly clipped another dragon in midair, immediately crooning an apology. She needed to learn to be more careful.
Her landing lacked its usual grace, her dark claws skittering lightly on the surface of the ledge as she tried to prevent her added mass from bowling someone over. Ever so sorry. Firestone for all. she said apologetically, watching Hers dismount with no small amount of anxiety. She wriggled, anxious. Couldn’t they drop the firestone and go to get more now? Hurry, hurry, hurry.
Fiona’s fingers were made slightly clumsy by the tension of the moment, but she managed to get some of the knots securing the firestone sacks undone. “Here… make a pile. Just take them off her,” she told her helpers, anxiously fidgeting over one of the more stubborn knots. They needed to make more trips. Raiyth could only carry so much spare firestone at once.
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The crunching sound of firestone in gray-brown jaws was a familiar one, but it did not put K’von any more at ease. He hated battle. Hated it, hated it, hated it. That was not to say that he was lacking in adrenaline, for he had felt the surge of strength in his body as Dohulth relayed their instructions. Perhaps it was that he did feel that rush that he hated the thought of fighting, of hurting or killing. “That’s about all you can handle. We’ll get more if it comes to that, but that ought to last,” he muttered at the brown, dusting his hands off as he checked over his weapons. Knives in his boots, one at his waist…
Understood, Ciceroth. On our way. Dohulth informed the bronze, flexing his wings and limbs in turn as he waited patiently on the weyrledge for His to get a move on. The brown was small for his color and at a distinct disadvantage in a fight. He would have to hide in the shadows, down below. It would be hard to find a spot, but… he would manage. At least he had an advantage getting off the ground. Large wings made for marvelous lift.
Insistent chirping was making it hard for both males to focus, though, and K’von eventually had to snag Dania out of midair, sighing as the flitter peeped in obvious concern over the goings-on. “Sorry, you, but a fight is no place for you. You stay here,” he ordered her, gently placing the flitter on his pillow. “You two guard our weyr.” He added, gesturing at the salamandyr sprawled sleeping on the bedpost. Lazy little brat, that one, though K’von thought it worked out well for him for this occasion. The two pets could occupy each other while he was gone.
Almost as an afterthought, the brownrider snatched up the long, thick hunk of wood that he had started carving for Kalierre’s new and less crooked cane. It was barely started and so was still a hefty chunk of blunt object to wield. Perhaps it would make a good club, so he could avoid close-in knife fights. Hmmm. Hopefully, Kalierre would forgive him for that, he thought somewhat grimly as he jogged over to Dohulth and climbed up. “Let’s go, Wherrybrain. Infirmary, and make it fast.”
Dohulth snorted and threw himself almost effortlessly into the air, flaring his wings to their fullest extent as he glided for a short distance for lift before heading straight for the infirmary. The cursed fog would make it hard to see anything, but there was really no option, was there? They had to fight, if the need arose. He snorted slightly as he landed on a corner of the ledge, affectionately nuzzling at His as he deposited the man there. Be careful. Phremath’s will be very put out with you if you are injured. the brown teased lightly despite the gravity of the situation, aware that the gentle shove he received in return was a form of affection. His was just strange like that, so Dohulth wasted no effort in pursuing the matter further, instead circling downward to locate a decently shadowed spot in which to conceal himself. His wings were tucked in close, head lifted and waiting for the moment of need.
K’von found himself taking a small detour to his spot. His weyrmate’s voice sounded close enough, and he jogged into the infirmary, dodging the people darting to and fro. “Get mad at me later,” he muttered in Kalierre’s ear, circling the hand that held his ‘club’ around her waist and using the free hand to shove aside the table she had been pushing at. There. See? He had helped, and she could grumble at him for acting inappropriately later. The kiss he gave her was urgent, demanding, unapologetic, and ever so brief, and then he released her to head back towards the entrance. “Here we go again,” he grumbled quietly, leaning back into an alcove that shadowed him and yet still gave enough visibility to see outside. “Bring it.”
(Sorry it’s ridiculously long and… yeah.)
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Ember
Administrator
T'san Iskierka Dy'shi Jazheera Ae'on Nephele Qaena K'dem Eikane
FLAME GURU OF THE UNDERWORLD
Posts: 1,832
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Post by Ember on Jan 28, 2010 16:53:34 GMT -5
Oh, and we're in charge of leading Jaymith and Pettahth if the enemies break through the Blizzard wing, Dsoleth added to the end of the insturctions given to them through Ismaroth. Damn, damn, and damn again. There was a reason beyond laziness that T'san did not want to be wingsecond. It meant that he was as much responsible for the lives of his comrades as his wingleader. Ke'rin and Jaymith, K'sel and Pettahth. If they were injured or, Faranth forbid, killed it would be on his shoulders.
The brownrider shifted uncomfortably as Dsoleth swept through the foggy air towards an empty weyr near the infirmary. He noticed as they do so that Jaymith had found a spot too. As good as they were going to get. The brown slipped into his own hiding spot and T'san began feeding him the firestone they'd gotten. The motion was familiar but the reason was not. He was far more accustomed to Thread than fighting. He'd had brief stints on fighting wings of course but he was nowhere near good enough to face Fort wings. The problem was common amongst the Selenitas wings.
The brownrider kept his eyes trained outside the weyr as he thought of anything else he'd rather be doing. Sunbathing, eating, heck paperwork was preferable. He rubbed Dsoleth's neck idly as the world seemed to wait on baited breaths. Their job really sucked. They would have to sit by and wait until someone slipped past the Blizzard wing. It would be agony watching others fight and wondering when it was their turn. It was essential that the Fort wings didn't realize them before they wanted to reveal themselves though. No jumping in too early or too late. At this rate he'd die from the stress before anything else.
Dsoleth lightly brushed the minds of Jaymith and Pettahth. He had no intentions of letting them die. Not for some strangers from another weyr. Why they were protecting those who were not theirs he did not understand and he didn't have the time to consider it when they were likely to be attacked any moment. He honestly did not care for the lives of the High Reachers. He did care for the Selentias lives though. He may not remember but His did. His remembered being accepted at the southern weyr, of being able to leave Fort. He moved backwards into the darkness of the weyr even more. Now to hope the wait wouldn't kill them first.
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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 Jan 28, 2010 17:36:06 GMT -5
It was hard to tell exactly how seriously K'sel was taking this situation. Only one thing was for sure, he actually woke up from his nap in the jungle to come and respond to orders so at least some of his priorities were in line, but still...the headband? Yes, K'sel was battle ready with the black cloth tied around his head above those sable eyes, it was odd for someone who just never seemed to care too much about anything at all. It was almost like he had to put on a character, an alternate persona, the same one who liked to parkour around the weyr for Faranth knows why. It was obvious, he was K'sel: Selenitas Commando and he was here to party. Frightening really.
He was armed with the most simple of tools: his most valued and loved hunting knife and really little else. He didn't suspect he would be needing much else, his plan was to get real close and personal with every Fortian that came near...a sword would have much too far of a reach. His other assets? Intimidation and creativity. Not that he was scary for any other reason than the fact that he just looked like a mad man. With his wild strut and primal howls he would sure to be quite the distraction in the battle, but until then he would just have to do what he hated most - obey orders - and hide in waiting.
Pettahth wasn't a hard one to tuck away. As the color of sandstone, the tiny brown had to do very little to camouflage himself against the side of a weyr. Mojo and Eyesore had picked out a delicious little craggy hole in the wall weyr to sneak into. It was high enough for a good view without being too far away from the infirmary and his comrades. In the shadow of the the cliffy overhangs, K'sel began to feed Pettahth firestone as he mentally readied himself to live through yet another attack. Yes, there was no doubt in his mind he was going to live. He was the only survivor of his weyrling class, why wouldn't he live through this too? He was more worried really for his mother...he loved his mother, and she was probably stuck in on those sharding hatching sands chasing around panicking little brats and having to tolerate his loser brother. Oh, and of course secretly, his mind briefly flickered over Nephele. His concern for her? Well if she died who would he have to hate anymore?
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Post by Sheari on Jan 28, 2010 18:47:11 GMT -5
The orders had been given.
Without delay, C'ryl fed his brown chunks of firestone while he hastily fastened the riding straps to Pagoth. When he was done with the first rock, he was given another. The rider worked quickly and quietly and were shortly flying out of their weyr to the Infirmary. The brown sent a silent affirmation that he understood before turning his mind to His. Ismaroth says that you will be inside defending the injured. We will be hiding in the weyrs should we be attacked.[/i] Like any dragon, Pagoth did not relish being separated from His. Frankly, it made him nervous. C'ryl stroked the neck of the beast beneath him, both to calm his own nerves as well as Pagoth's.
The brown tilted and landed on the ledge, allowing His to slide off before launching up again and circling off. C'ryl jogged through the entrance looking for E'rro. When he saw the Wingleader he slowed to a brisk walk before standing in front of him. "C'ryl, reporting," he said. With the possibility of battle so close at hand, he didn't want to be caught without a name. He'd never really been in a battle; Thread didn't count. The brownrider stepped to the side then, making room for anyone else that would be coming in soon.
Pagoth flew up and then glided. He got a good view of the caves and crags, and tried to pick out where Ismaroth was hiding. He might not get the chance later on to know where everyone was and so took advantage of it now. His time had run out then. While he'd barely made out some vague, dark forms, there was no way of telling who was who, and so he alighted on a ledge and crawled inside. Now he would mimic everyone else. Watching and waiting, in constant silent contact with His.
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Post by rii on Jan 29, 2010 0:46:52 GMT -5
Eight dragons came, in a tight formation, from the direction of the main hall. They positioned themselves above the cliff and the settling fog; and were ever so watchful of the color of dragon hide visible as hazy shadows, moving to and fro in preparation..
A series of silent orders passed between the fort dragons. Immediately a green and a blue broke off, turning sharply and diving low into the gorge to disappear into the fog before the group neared the infirmary. Two blues put on speed and climbed higher into the sky to over shoot the infirmary all together. The four that remained (a pair of greens, a blue, and a brown) stayed on course. There would be no negotiations – that little fact had been made clear enough by the breaking scene at the Main Hall.
Good. They didn't need to waste their time any more than they already had.
One of the greens let out a piercing screech that echoed down the gorge – whether a battle cry, or scream of sheer annoyance was debatable. Her claws slashed at the air before she zipped forward, paired on her left by the more subdued green. The gray haze that blanketed the Weyr suddenly took on an eerie orange glow as together the greens sent flame searing across the weyrledge to clear it of stragglers and debris alike.
And so it began.
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Post by archenstone on Jan 29, 2010 12:12:53 GMT -5
KaliMine, we have to go now. Uminth watched anxiously as Kalina readied her self. She had learned the hard way about not having weapons. Several small knives, poorly crafted by herself but sharp hung in pockets suspiciously like M'ta's throwing knife holder. A long thin dagger, three inches too short to be considered a real sword, hung at her hip. Using kitchen ingredients she had made egg bombs. Peppers, spices, and tiny sharp things had been poured in a carefully drilled hole into three wherry eggs. She had made them with X'vier one day, thinking they could incapacitate people or dragons but had never tested them. She would have added fellis but truly didn't want to kill any dragons. They were now in an egg basket normally used to ferry firelizard eggs. She climbed up on Uminth and strapped her self in.
You have to be in the infirmary while I go to the gorge. A faint tremble could be felt by Kalina's fingers on her hide. Uminth still didn't like close spaces....and the gorge....fog? A palpable sense of fear emanated through her.
"You have to be safe okay? I don't like the thought of us away from each other." She tightened her legs as Uminth rose up and betweened....choosing speed over comfort. You have to give me firestone when we land. She said as they came out over the infirmary and landed. Kalina quickly got down and found were the firestone was being handed out. Giving it to Uminth she felt uneasy and tense. What was going to happen? Would Fort really attack the entire Weyr just to get a couple people? Why would they want to annihilate a Weyr anyways. The whole war made no sense to her and she didn't like getting pulled into it one bit. Thats enough MineLove. I must get into position.
Kalina held contact with Uminth as she flew off. Reluctantly going inside to see where she could be the most help. Seeing people moving she found out what they had decided to do and helped organize things into position.
Meanwhile as Uminth decended into the gorge she felt fear clamp on her mind. The fog was like a cloying blanket. Covering her. Drowning her. She knew it was a pointless fear but she felt it non the less and with Hers with her she felt worse. Their link was all that kept her from turning into a blubbering pile of green goo.
A shadow.
She looked up, eyes whirling in fear and alarm. Ismaroth, they come! It was pure stroke of luck they hadn't seen her. Or had they and moved on?
Kalina shied away from the entrance as dragon flame bathed the rocks. Her eyes widened in horror. Who was left out there? What about the fire stone? Cries of fear rose as the heat washed over them and the infirmary reflected orange light.
~~~~~
I don't have time to post Asharra right now. But believe me shes her usual self!
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Post by glamourie on Jan 30, 2010 8:01:56 GMT -5
Cooperation was good. That meant that they’d have a lot less trouble later on. There was going to be enough conflict without egos coming into the equation – and Ciceroth was already irritated enough to want to simply remove the High Reaches dragons himself. It was tempting – nay, inviting – to take them into his teeth and tear until there was nothing left. Somehow His was remaining calm and by proxy, keeping him restrained, more’s the pity. The bronze settled himself into the darkness of the weyr – likely belonging to one of the browns, since it was barely big enough to fit him – and his eyes flashed scarlet in the darkness. He listened to Ismaroth’s instructions without a word; the brown was competent enough to not need any help and therefore, Ciceroth did not offer it. If he wanted advice, he’d ask and it wasn’t the time for recommendations unrequested. He silently twitched his tail. Part of him thought that RysHis belonged on the ground – he fought better that way – but… Ciceroth couldn’t bring himself to suggest it, and RysHis thought the ground was less likely to be attacked. He was probably right, considering how much time he spent pouring over records as if they were his last lifeline to a world he left behind. Very strange indeed.
Yours should be inside, Iorath, not on the ledge, Ciceroth told Iorath privately; it was likely that he was misunderstood, but that was okay. The interior hall entrance, if you could inform her. We will keep the ledge safe. Where she is, she opens herself up to dragonflame, and I do not want anyone hurt if it can be helped. And how did Ciceroth, hidden away in the weyr, know where Iorath’s was? Answer: Ophelie. The firelizard was darting around flashing helpful images to Hers and Ciceroth by proxy, trying to let him know what he wasn’t seeing. She was useful, even if Ciceroth did not particularly favor her kind. She was the lone exception.
Phremath’s reassurance made him twitch his tail again. Neither Ka’rys nor Ciceroth felt confident. It was hard to, given that it was Fort attacking. Ka’rys remembered vividly how organized the wings had been under D’loro and he hoped – fleetingly – that the man called R’anatar was not even half the leader D’loro was. Because had D’loro attacked Selenitas, they would not have survived. Ciceroth did not reply to Hepaticath’s words, but the affection that he felt for the gold was projected back to her; were she capable, he’d have liked her to fight. He would have let her. As it was, golds could not chew firestone, and she was not trained enough to accommodate such a weakness. And he couldn’t justify training her, and Ka’rys rejected the mere notion – golds had their places and it wasn’t on fighting wings. She was safer out of sight.
Be careful, Raiyth. She was a target. A very large target, in fact. Ciceroth hoped that Raiyth and Hers understood that. He was counting on her – so was RysHis. It was good logic, justifying that if anyone could fly back and forth fast enough it would be a green, but Raiyth was not a fighting spirit, and he wasn’t sure how much she could be relied on to protect herself… He didn’t want to lose more members of his wing. Ka’rys couldn’t remember, but he could. He didn’t like Jessereth, and hardly knew Jarcith, but they were missed. They were His, and their deaths still hung heavy to the bronze. You will be a target. Keep yourself and Yours safe, and keep that in mind. We will do what we can to keep attacks off of you.
The decision to move everything backward had clearly been a good one. That was Ka’rys’s main thought as a loud screech – doubtlessly a green – echoed through the canyon. He tightened his grip on Ciceroth, eyes narrowing behind his flight goggles – but they didn’t take off. Too much fog, the flames could be a distraction. Ophelie’s presence near the weyrledge alerted him to the number of two greens. There would be more. Something would have to be done to – the firestone. Had they just flamed it? Curses. He didn’t say anything, instead touching Ciceroth’s mind. They would have to be diverted away from the ledge for Fiona and Raiyth to be of any use, and to keep the hysteria in the infirmary to a minimum. People did not respond well to dragonfire.
There’s two greens visible, expect more. How many, we can’t say for sure. Be prepared. Ismaroth, your wing might wish to stay put until we can assess how many our present. Castidenloth – take off with me. Ylonth, Kynoath, stay put for now. They didn’t want to alert the Fort riders to how many people were out there – and Ciceroth was not about to alert them to where he was, either. To Castidenloth privately, he said, I trust you can between from ground level. We’re going to the cliff surfaces. Letting them know where the wing is so soon is not an option. Meet me at the top of the gorge and go for the quiet one. The loud one is a distraction, most likely. Aim to kill. We have little use for hostages.
No response was waited for; Ciceroth winked between instantly. He was a wingleader for more than one reason, after all. Castidenloth could take the cue from him if needed. He reappeared hovering over the top of the gorge and turned at an angle, dropping through the mist as little more than a metallic blur. Two could play their game. He was a bronze – the glimmer of his hide would be unmistakable to the strangers. He was hoping that the shine of his own hide would be enough to distract any extra dragons out of hiding, and it would also give Castidenloth time to remove the big-mouthed green going for the infirmary. He plummeted with his wings folded inward before flaring them near infirmary level and turning with grace as a steady stream of flame broke through the mist – clearing much of it from view and aimed into the directly of the greenpair; they could likely dodge it but there’d be no doubting that yes, he’d come from above.
Nothing to see in the cliffs, nothing at all…
Baby returned. R’wign took Terilyn gratefully and rocked her back and forth, a low coo escaping his lips. So sweet, she was. His head bowed and he half-nodded in response to Savitri before backing up – away from the entrance. He’d have liked to help move things away but he’d already been given strict orders (in the form of practical screaming) to keep his pink-haired self away from view. After nearly being throttled by the Blizzard wingleader, he was reluctant to leave the relative safety of the inner portions of the infirmary. Just the same, the squirming baby in his arms alerted him to the fact that he was close to useless while holding her. Even if she did make him feel safer, more secure somehow, he didn’t want to put her at risk. She’d already lost one set of parents. Leaning down, R’wign kissed Terilyn’s forehead (earning a crinkled nose, unsatisfied look and very daring attempt to yank at his piercings – sneaky girl) before scurrying toward one of the isolation wards.
One of the apprentices caught his attention and R’wign grabbed the girl’s sleeve before pushing her into the room. “You have one job through this whole thing. One job. You screw it up and I’ll push you off the infirmary ledge and knots will be the last thing you have to worry about. Your job is to keep Terilyn here in this room – out of sight, out of attention – and look after her until we’re safe. Can you do that? Yes you can. I need to be available. I want you to take her, stay in this room, no matter what you hear, and if anyone you don’t recognize asks, she’s your daughter. Not mine. You got it? Good.” Letting someone else look after her was painful, but… if anyone found out she was his, Teri was in danger. Biological child or not, she was his. He didn’t want her at risk because he was a target.
His gaze followed the slightly-frightened apprentice to the room and then he slammed the door closed after her. Turning on his heel, R’wign half-dashed to the supply cabinet and retrieved all the jars of disinfectants, placing them onto one of the easier reached shelves. His mind was working in overdrive and the simple chain of thought was that there would be burns, among other injuries. Getting supplies ready to treat people would make it an easier project come time to do just that. Bandages next. Those would be needed. And syringes, sterilized needlethorn, numbweed, fellis-
Fire.
The glow of orange from the weyrledge made R’wign jump and he backed up further, forcing his own nerves down. His gaze turned toward the entrance before he clicked his tongue, running it along the piercings in his bottom lip.
Try to remain calm. Your littles are all upset at not being here with you. ShortyYours is fine. You should come here with me if you’re scared, though, R’wignmine. I will keep you safe.
Pretty to think so, but I’m more useful here. I’m fine. I’m just – not good – I’m fine. I’m just glad we’re not out there fighting…
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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 Jan 30, 2010 13:12:13 GMT -5
Lust alerting her to the approach of 'Chewtoy,' Kalierre turned just in time to get swept up against him abruptly enough that her hip twinged in protest. Helllooooo giant lover. An arm slipped up around his neck, her face set in an amused cockiness that he'd felt the need to shove his tongue down her throat before continuing on his business. "Just come back whole, mountain man, and I'll probably forgive you," came her cheeky reply, swatting him on the rump as he disappeared to his post. Teasing as the tone was, an element of seriousness wormed its way into the words. Kalierre would prefer to have her weyrmate in one piece when all this was over; broken brownriders weren't terribly useful for curling up with of a night, after all.
"Nevermind E'rro," she called as things broke out. Not that he was likely to listen, anyway...he had more important things to worry about. As it was, Savitri was acting like a human whirlwind with a couple of the other apprentices and most of the furniture was already moved. Certainly enough of it to keep anything from catching light near the front when fire flared over the weyrledge brilliantly. Phremath's steadiness wavered for the first time, perhaps realizing that the good mood of Hers might not be...appropriate. Maybe they should be nervous.
Ismaroth and Ciss are both leading their entire wings to protect us, beautiful, Kali told her reassuringly, not wishing for the green to get too upset. Phremath was a joyful creature, preserving her innocence even now despite Kalierre, and the dragonhealer didn't like distressing her. She knew better than to cross the partition with flame dancing over the ledge - it was too close - but Kalierre reassured the green of her mental presence.
Turning her head, she levered herself up onto one of the small tables, sliding the cane within reach but out of sight and doffing her knots, just in case. They went into the drawer beneath her perch. Let the people with more mobility run around like busy bees and prepare. (Kalierre actually rather hated playing manager most of the time, but when you couldn't move fast or climb all over everything, you had to accept it, didn't you?) "Vi, lovely, rescue some numbweed too, will you? Asharra. Hey, Asharra!" Hard of hearing. Tch. "Lose the knots, old girl. Push comes to shove, play patient. Not gonna lose your expertise if I can help it. You got me?"
Speaking of losing stubborn healers...Kalierre wrinkled her nose at her counterpart, her contemporary, her...pain in the backside. "Pinky. People could likely see that hair and the glinting metal from the ocean with you bustling around like that. Care to do something that doesn't make your presence quite as obvious?"
Rearranging her limbs neatly, she coaxed Lust down into his favorite place between her breasts, and turned her eyes back toward the vague shadows in the fog and the luridly dancing lights. It was oddly pretty, she thought to herself, though it would be less so when they started losing people and the wingleaders started shuffling the wounded to them. Speaking of which, she turned her head toward R'wign. "Why don't you set up a couple stations on the edge of this furniture forest...or have the apprentices do it." She could manage one. Emergency trauma was her specialty, after all...man or beast. Of course she'd likely toddle off to see to beast if any were to come in injured, but Savi and R'wign and Asharra to a point could handle it here, too, so the idea still had merit.
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Tashe
Shiny Hoarder
Weyrwoman Kaegan Dragonhealer E'rro Rider K'thay Woodcrafter E'iah Healer Raylanne Healer Ithanna Harper Zemaren [color=0BDA5
"When the Butterfly emurges, does the caterpillar no longer exist?"
Posts: 1,401
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Post by Tashe on Jan 30, 2010 16:34:47 GMT -5
He let his mind touch his entire wing. They are coming. And then to his small fighting contingent; Stay put until Ciceroth's Wing can determine exactly how many are out there. Remember, silence is essential. Talons gently scraping across the ground, Ismaroth saw the very edges of flame. It was good that the Infirmary was no longer made of wood and leaf, but the firestone was combustible. Pulling his lips back as he caught the briefest glance of an offending Green as she wheeled away from the Infirmary. That had to be one of the two.
"Just inside the entrance. Make sure you have enough coverage if they flame the ledge." He turned away from the female Bluerider to address the others who had come. "Saeo, C'ryl. I want you to guard the back entrance. Just in case someone decides to try and surprise us. At any time I want at least one of you to be by that entrance, it is not to be left unguarded." Glancing over at Kalierre, he offered her a small shrug when she retracted her call for some help. Turning, he eyed the Blizzard Riders as they took their places near the entrance. He was depending on them as the front line. "Kalin-" His voice was cut off by the sudden rush of fire that bathed the landing ledge. E'rro hoped that no one had been caught out there. Still it was bad news. The Fort Dragons were clearing the ledge, redying it to land on. Ismaroth. I know Mine. "Kalina get back from there! You're with me, we're guarding the Healers." Quickly pacing across the middle of the Infirmary, he pushed a few Apprentices along with him. "Move. Now." Herding them over to where the other Healers were, E'rro left them to the others before taking up a position on the edge of the area. Deja Vu. He rubbed a temple as memories of the last attack poked up in his mind. At least they were fighting against Fort this time, the one Weyr that had always been his 'enemy'. Running a finger along the places he had hidden his weapons, the Wingleader made sure he hadn't lost any somehow.
--
Saraina jogged quietly over to the entrance, choosing the side with the least amount people on it. Nodding her head in greeting to her Wingmates, Saraina took the moment to braid her hair back messily, adding a spiked strip into the mix. Having long hair was a detriment in battle, but she'd found out a way to make it easier on her. By weaving the spiked strap into her hair, anyone who grabbed at the braid would be in for a surprise. Carefully winding it into a bun, Saraina used the end of the leather to tie it into place. She had just finished when the flames shot by the entrance, making her jump slightly. The Dragon scream had heralded the coming of the invading force, but she hadn't expected them to get that far into the gorge. Ka'rys and Ciceroth were probably biding their time, the element of surprise was something to have on your side. Removing one of her blades from it's sheath, the Bluerider tapped the end of it against her leg. This would be agonizing.
Hokth hissed quietly as he watched a pair of shadows pass above him, only the dark shapes of their bodies visible through the mist. He hadn't been given the order to go. But he wanted to. The Blue resisted the urge to smack his tail against the ground, how dare they attack the Weyr. Rather, why didn't Selenitas just give the stupid Riders over to Fort? They had stolen his brothers and sisters a long time ago, and he had never forgiven that Weyr. Either way, now Selenitas was being attacked and he was very agitated. Slowly opening his wings, Hokth stood poised to leap into the air. He was ready.
--
Whether it was anxiety, excitement or a strange combination of both, Castidenloth shifted his weight from one side to the other making his Rider sway. Cass, you're going to make me sick. Sorry Kanmine. The Blue settled down, his tail twitching to make up for the lack of movement. All motions ceased as Ciceroth contacted him. Sending a picture to his human, Castidenloth Betweened as soon as the Bronze pulled his mind away. The subzero temperatures assaulted him for a moment before he felt Rukbat against his back. The Bluepair located their wingleader immediately and mimicked their dive, disappearing into the fog cover below. Aim to kill. That sort of permission was ideal for Castidenloth, he had trouble holding back sometimes.
Locating their target, he erupted upward from the mist straight toward the 'quiet' greenpair. He was closer than he expected, but he compensated quickly. Castidenloth twisted himself so that he could grab the Green's wing in his mouth, his legs extending and shifting to block any strikes from her own. He knew this Green, he'd seen her before. Managing to catch the tip of her wing, he bit down hard before folding his wings and letting gravity drop him down, letting her go only when he had dropped a few feet. Spreading his wings he disappeared into the mist, preforming a shallow circle before coming up again, this time he sent flame toward the Green. As he did so, he contacted Ciceroth briefly using a sort of shorthand to relay his message. We know Wing. Not one of best.
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