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 Feb 2, 2010 18:36:22 GMT -5
Slashing his tail from side to side, Ismaroth growled unhappily as he watched the events unfold. The Dragons hidden in the bottom of the gorge would be flushed out without protection, easy targets for the Fortians. Cherlith, Pagoth, Dsoleth, Pettahth and Jaymith. They are trying to pick the Blizzard wing off by smoking them out. They need cover and fast. Go now and distract the waiting Fort Dragons, try not to engage unless you have to. Once the Blizzard Wing is safe out of the brush, buddy up and attack in teams. Dsoleth and Pettahth. Pagoth and Cherlith and Jaymith. He himself was going to try and distract the Brown in charge. Go! Leaping out of his hiding space, Ismaroth glanced upward. He threw himself into the air, winging toward the Fort Brown. Two wings could play the distraction game. Hissing as he sped closer, the tan Brown pulled his lips back from his teeth. The other Brown was definitely older than he was, he only hoped he could last long enough against him to receive back up.
The Dragon on the ledge was worrying to say the least, but he didn't want to bother his Brown with his concerns, knowing that Ismaroth was probably coordinating something at that very moment. As the smoke began to billow from of the exploding firestone, E'rro whistled loudly by putting two of his fingers in his mouth. He signaled that the Blizzard Riders who were closest to the entrance should move back. He really didn't feel like shouting across the large area. But his attention was distracted by a commotion by the human entrance. So now they had something to do.
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Via Zor, Saraina was able to see that the Fort Dragons had set fire to the trees in the gorge. Her heart beat a little faster with concern, Dragons might be hardy but none could last for long in the smoke. I am fine mine, I will stay until I can't. Tapping the end of her blade against her leg again, she eyed the landing ledge dubiously. That Green was making her nervous. And then there were small explosions, some of the Firestone must have caught on fire. A whistle and a signal later, the Bluerider found herself deeper in the Infirmary. She took up a position between the Dragon entrance and the Human one, figuring it was the best option given the black smoke. Turning, Saraina leapt back as someone threw a punch at her abdomen. Dropping to her toes to avoid the elbow the Bluerider spun, intending to sweep the woman's feet out from under her with her leg.
The smoke was hurting his eyes and nose, it was getting harder and harder to stay in the brush. Hokth waited as long as he could before taking leave of the ground, carefully ascending through the smoke and the ashy fog. It wouldn't be a glorious end if he was taken down as soon as he emerged.
---
Snapping his wings shut, Castidenloth fell through the fog, searching for the Green he had lost. He hadn't bitten her far enough on her wing to set her of kilter, he was getting slow with malpractice. He hissed to himself. Where was she? When he found that Green, she wasn't going to escape again. A flash of light far off to his left gave him a clue. Dropping lower, the Blue circled back watching for another burst of flame. Tree tops skimmed his belly as he shot past them, his eyes searching for his opponent. He wasn't appreciative of Ciceroth's mental interruption. Not a full wing probably. Not for something as easy as attacking High Reaches. He withdrew for a moment before continuing. I would guess... seven at the most. Twitching his wings, the male veered to the side, sweeping his gaze back and forth.
Turning again, Castidenloth had to throw himself to the side to avoid the Green. A snarl escaped his lips as he turned on his tail, flipping backward and sending a flame toward the female. But she disappeared again. Gone were all his misgivings about fighting Fort Dragons, now there was only the fighting. Only the clash and the ichor. Linking with his human, the Blue winked Between. Tilting his head down, Castidenloth growled. In the high altitudes he was above the gorge and all that was going on, able to pause momentarily to get his barrings. Stretching out his claws, he Betweened again. Streaking out of the freezing void above one of the Blues annoying Ciceroth, Castidenloth aimed downward for his neck. More specifically, his Rider and their straps.
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Post by nightingale on Feb 2, 2010 20:38:41 GMT -5
Cherilith and Jaymith rose from opposite sides of the canyon into the same breath of wind, soaring to meet their wingleader's call to arms. You fly alone Cherilith?[/color] The bronze asked, voicing his rider's concern at seeing the young blue flying without Saeo between his shoulders. I fly with you my brother. The blue responded plainly, slipping between the great bronze's wings as though he might perch right on top of him.
There was no time for explanation or debate, for all at once the wing of Fort dragons were in front of them. Jaymith banked widely to the left and Cherilith pulled up sharply, appearing as if from Between and diving claws first at the nearest of their enemies. Jaymith took a significantly more drastic approach to the situation, as he was very much a 'take action' sort of dragon and being forced to enter the battle late had created tension in his mind and body that the smell of firestone only heightened. The bronze let loose with a blast of flame at the first clump of movement he saw, determined to take down as many dragons as he could as quickly as possible.
Saeo held her ground as the first of their attackers reached the infirmary's human entrance, one eye seeing as Cherilith did while the other studied the battle in front of her. She didn't want to engage one of the two frontrunners only to find herself with three men at her back. Leather gloves gave her a firm grip on her dagger despite her sweating palms. The girl had been learning various combat skills since the previous siege had ended, but she was certain that no amount of training would ever teach her to ignore the raw horror of mortal combat.
OOOOOHNOBABYNOTLOVEBADYOUUUUUU! PESTA LOSER BABYYYYYY SO WHY DONCHA KILL MEEEEEEEE?!?!! A navy blue salamander wailed from her shoulder, his mind voice significantly more obnoxious than usual as he antagonized their attackers. Freckle was not nearly so passive in her distaste, and took it upon herself to focus that distaste on the man attacking C'ryl -because that greenpest Sarina could take care of herself. FRECKLE MAUL SHARDINGBADPEST FORTDUNGNOTMINEBADMAULKILL!!!!!!! Came her battle cry as she leapt/stumbled into the fray and threw herself teeth-first at the man's ankle, her only aim to grab onto something living and make it less so.
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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 Feb 2, 2010 21:48:35 GMT -5
T'san and Dsoleth watched the scene around the infirmary ledge unfold and was annoyed to note that Kynoath's arrival endangered Pettahth. They calmed down quickly enough. Battle was no place for anger and both of them were not accustomed to the emotion. Besides the small explosions the infirmary was safe again from this entrance and that was their intention. Dsoleth watched the Fort green for a moment, very obviously considering going after her himself when Pettahth's question broek through his thoughts.
No, you've done your part for now, he told the other brown gently. Chasing after a green wasn't what they ought to be doing. Not with the Blizzard wing in danger of flame and claw. Just as he'd been thinking about assisting their fellow Selenitas dragons Ismaroth gave the order to do so. His mind brushed Pettahth's as he beat away from their precious ledge to provide the assistance needed.
((I'm soooo sorry for this crap post but at least one person was waiting on me.))
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Post by mierce on Feb 2, 2010 23:28:09 GMT -5
NO.
The two arrows sailed effortlessly through the air where Mirath was just a moment earlier. If the situation weren’t so dire, Evrgarde might have laughed darkly at the circumstances. She wanted to take out rider and dragon at the same time to avoid a nice little bonfire and yet that is exactly what happened! Yes, next time she would shoot and ask questions later, she resolved as she pulled an arrow from one of the three larger quivers and notched it. There was rustling coming from the human side of the ward, the sound of struggling. She slipped over just as Saraina ducked below the swinging elbow. Evrgarde took aim at the woman’s lower torso and released her arrow just as Saraina swept her leg out. As soon as the arrow left the arch of her bow, she quickly moved further back away from the door and prepared another arrow, waiting for an opening between the other riders at the frontlines to fire again.
From some unknown location in the room, a series of barks and squawks suddenly came barreling towards the scuffle. A certain multi-colored furball zipped out towards the male Fort rider that had engaged C’ryl and chomped down on his thigh with intent to break skin and tear muscle… well, once he got past whatever armor the rider was wearing anyway. Lange, on the other hand took to betweening in and out around the same rider’s head, squawking and snapping her jaws at tender parts of his face (i.e., eyes) with each brief appearance. In the smoking, burning trees, Iorath growled, huddling closer and further away from the fire. He was fortunate to have been hit directly, but the smoky air wasn’t exactly ideal conditions. He touched His’ mind lightly not wanting to distract her too much. Like Hokth, he lingered as long as he could. Eventually, he folded his wings and as discreetly as possible slipped through a gap in the canopy and into the fog. Golden glows permeated through the thick air, prompting him to be particularly mindful of enemy ambush as he swooped through the gorge.
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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 Feb 3, 2010 1:02:36 GMT -5
She was getting a headache. So much going on at once. Kalierre dismissed R'wign's fit as nerves, nodding absently to Savitri as Phremath relayed the orders from Ciceroth. Blinking, her gaze fell on Asharra and she nudged the drawer open at the older woman's question. "Uh, make sure they've got everything set up over there at triage first, and then prepare it if you have the time, if you don't mind. Our first responsibility is to take care of any wounded." If they got that chance, that was, considering the infirmary was more or less under siege.
Who to send out to get firestone? They'd be targeting it, and she hated that she was running down the names, thinking of who was expendable. Of course, she'd hardly begun working it out - only seconds after turning her mind to the task, in fact - when the battle produced a loud popping, and smoke roiled, flashes going off on the ledge. Well. Looked like she wasn't going to have to figure out who to sacrifice after all. Sorry Ka'rys, too late for that one. She might have felt remorse, but if she'd responded more promptly she'd have her healers out there in that, and she didn't regret being a little slow in that context.
Not that it mattered too much. Because here they came, from the other door, Kalierre's eyes narrowing. It was too dangerous near the weyrledge to evacuate some to the dragons' side. Slipping down off the desk, she edged along the wall and peeked around one of the cabinets thrust into the center of the wide open space, leaning against it. Just two. Hopefully the riders around here could handle that. Mine says to make for the furniture if you're not one of the wingmembers, Phremath told the Selenitas minds quietly. Give the fighters some room and try to keep any noncombatants from falling into Fort hands.
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Post by glamourie on Feb 3, 2010 2:18:03 GMT -5
Ciceroth barely had time to react to his surroundings. His mind registered things as they happened nearly instantly. The green on the ledge managed to escape; then two blues were flying at him, one of them the one he’d burnt before. A low hiss resounded in his chest before he wove out of the way of their attacks, spying Castidenloth to his aid. The canyon wasn’t big enough for all of them and extra maneuvering was difficult for him. And the blues targeting him needed to be removed. They were a distraction – he recognized distraction techniques when he saw them. And unfortunately, he couldn’t do anything about it short of fighting them off. He just couldn’t. Dodging was too much effort in and of itself. Castidenloth’s attack on one of the blues was noted and Ciceroth turned to launch an attack on the other – flying forward with claws outstretched for the other male’s wings. Both of his forelegs tore forward, shredding through the wing with force; it would be crippling enough to render the other blue to the ground and get him out of the way. One down. Six to go.
Flames caught the corner of his eye and Ciceroth turned in time to see fire streaking toward him – where the blue was. He didn’t have time to between and Ka’rys threw his arms in front of his face to protect from the searing fire. The loud shriek that Ciceroth offered in response before disappearing between was indication enough that he was not only burnt – but burnt severely. Down his neck and the edge of his wing, and over part of Ka’rys’s side, which was thankfully minor in comparison; they’d gone between to extinguish the flames fast enough. The bronzepair reappeared on the ledge of one of the weyrs, resisting the urge to whine. Ka’rys quickly removed his goggles to wipe the ash from his burnt clothes off of them – where had the flame come from? One of their own. Why were they being so disorganized? They’d been doing so well. Which of the fools had done that? His anger was almost tangible, compounded by the burning on the ledge of the infirmary. Something had to be done about that.
Ismaroth, your wing is out of control. There was no scolding in his voice, but the anger and pain was obvious enough. I can’t dodge the flames of your dragons and that of those from That Place! It hurt. Bad. The burns were already turning an interesting shade of white that stood out prominently from his pale bronze hide. Irritating. To Jaymith he spoke, icy in tone, The only bronzes here are our own - you and me. Be more careful, or you will be a bigger threat to us than they are. Yes, Ciceroth was upset. His rider was burnt badly enough to be massively inconvenient, if not painful, and Ka’rys’s riding gear was ruined. They would not be able to go between again with those injuries. It was an almost crippling problem for a dragon of Ciceroth’s size.
We have to get out of the canyon. We’re useless here. You’re too big. The silent instruction from Ka’rys was agreed with by Ciceroth, but how were they supposed to make it that high up without the Fort riders singling them out? Answer: Group. Ylonth, Kynoath – I need you two to fly with me. We need to get this fight out of the canyon. The infirmary is too much of a target here. We have to bait them up and out. Castidenloth thinks there are likely only seven of them – and I just eliminated the wings of one of them; he’ll have to land and isn’t able to fight. So six. He didn’t wait for the response from the blue and green, instead throwing himself off the ledge. The entire process took a matter of seconds. There wasn’t any time for dilly-dallying about. He immediately turned, nearly vertical in ascent, toward the top of the canyon. They needed to be away from the infirmary – away from the firestone target and explosions that could cost the healers their lives.
Phremath’s instruction caught R’wign’s attention, distracting him from the task of setting up the aid station. He turned toward the entrance, his heart skipping a beat, and immediately moved out of the view of the doorway. Into the furniture jungle, right right. He told himself that he wouldn’t be seen and deliberately flopped over onto his side behind one of the cots. One hand lifted and he removed Vex from his shoulder, tucking her between the mattress and frame firmly. His gaze snared on the salamandyr, command unspoken: she was to stay there, out of sight. He didn’t want her in danger and no one was likely to go looking for a lizard amongst a mattress… or so he hoped. His stomach flipped over and he held very still, feeling like a coward the entire time. But pink hair and weyrhealer status meant he was probably a target, as Ka’rys had so politely informed him (amidst a screaming fit and the insistence that at first chance he do away with the brightly colored locks – tch).
You okay over there? Checkoth’s only response was a wave of irritation and worry – Prince of Fretting, he was. We’ll be fine. There’s not many. We’ll be fine…
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Post by kat on Feb 3, 2010 9:49:39 GMT -5
She had missed! She had missed, and that green was still alive and well. Even the bolt shot from the crossbow of hers had missed, and she did not wait for retaliation, blinking quickly into between to come out behind where the green had just spewed forth flame. The firestone! It exploded and popped, and Kynoath was enraged. They sought to harm those in the infirmary, and she had missed her target. She prepared for a secondary attack, hers already had another bolt in the firing weapon as soon as the first had missed. There was no time to think only to do. The second bolt was aimed for the back where the spine connected to the head, same as where Kynoath had tried to bite in her first assault. Kynoath, meanwhile, had a point to make. She could flame, too, and with her belly full of firestone, having come out just behind the pesky green, she did so.
The flame was aimed directly at the green, but in a horizontal arc. The intent was to give the green a very small margin to get away and since they had not waited until after their first attack had missed to disappear into between there would be even less time for the green to realize they had launched their second attack. Hopefully, they would at least manage to put her out of the fight, so that they could finish her off. However, Kynoath again went between as soon as she had emitted the burning hot flame at the green. Fortian tactics were more than a little useful. Being able to change where you were a split second after launching an attack was Kynoath's chosen tactic. It did not give the enemy opportunity to turn and launch their own retaliation.
They ended up way further back from the green, but just close enough to see if their attack succeeded or no. That was when Ciceroth sent them the new order. Kynoath hissed between her teeth, receiving the order while trying to see what would become of her target. Still, no matter what did, they had new orders, now. If they failed to have injured her at all, they would be sorely disappointed. Still, orders were orders...
We go to Ciceroth. We are to take this fight elsewhere, away from the Infirmary.[/color] They stayed only long enough to see what damage they had or had not done, before blinking between to come out behind Ciceroth. Orders were orders, and as much as they would have liked to be sure they finished off their assigned first duty, Ciceroth needed their backing and they would give it. His plan was a good one, after all. They were putting the Infirmary at further risk by fighting there. Hopefully, they would draw out the six dragons and put an end to things in a safer location.
~~~~~~
There was a noise that she couldn't have placed coming from the human side of the Infirmary, and it startled her half to death. It was like miniature explosions, but she couldn't have known it came from the firestone being lit by the green whom Kynoath had been after. Her eyes widened and she nearly went around to see what was going on. Yet her place was to remain in the dragon's side. No dragons had come here yet, and while she counted that as a blessing, she was a little surprised, and hoped that it was not because they couldn't make it here, due to the Fort dragons. She wished it would all end, and the Fortians would simply go back from where they came. Still, whatever this stupid battle was over, it was apparently not going to be so simple.
Bad sound! Bad sound make boom fire go boom![/color] Zexion dug his claws into her shoulder, seeming to know what was going on though his did not. She received an image from Faranth knew where he'd gotten it, and the realization sank in. The firestone, the dragon had flamed the firestone. Were the people all right? Zexion wasn't showing her anything more, however, just hissing and muttering things in a stream too fast to make out the curses. With a sigh, she watched the ledge from where she stood, waiting.
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Post by rii on Feb 3, 2010 14:25:09 GMT -5
Was he.. really..
The brown, Talzeth, watched with a subdued sense of amusement as Ismaroth sped toward him on a straight course of collision. No fancy maneuvers or winks between to make it a true attack. Almost lazily, the brown tucked a wing and banked sharply to the side while shifting into a dive to meet Ismaroth. He met the other brown's claws with his more experienced ones. There was a certain level of a toying going on, as Talzeth kept Ismaroth present and also finished dealing out orders. Coordinates were fed to the four dragons that had deposited their riders into the unoccupied weyrs on the infirmary side.
In the next instance a burst of blues and greens erupted around them, all without riders. They skimmed around the locked browns, claws making shallow passes over Ismaroth's hide – not aiming to kill; taunting him? Definitely. Tell them to stand down. The polite suggestion was given to Ismaroth alone. I have not given permission to kill, yet, but if you value those inside you will pass on this friendly advice of stepping down before more than ichor is shed. We want those from High Reaches. Your Weyrleader did not want to hand them over, he'd rather you die for sake of traitors and thieves. But what will you decide?
A scream from the injured blue broke through the canyon. His flailed his wings in vain as he began tumbling through the air, calling to his brother as he fell. The second blue faltered, distracted in that moment enough that he only had time to whip his lower half around to face Castidenloth and let his tail take the brunt of the other dragon's claws before he pelted down after his wing member. He seized his brother's wings, spreading his own to provide flight along with a set of coordinates to between.
Flaming your own, Talzeth casually commented to Ismaroth. How long do you think it will take, before another one of your inexperienced riders flame their own wing members, or better yet, the inside of the infirmary in their eagerness to get at our little green.
Indeed, Mirath thought, as she tucked her wings more tightly to her body. Only flaring the small lengths when she again neared the ledge with Kynoath hot on her tail. The fired bolt grazed her side as she suddenly turned on the spot. Her claws scraped loudly against the stone as she slid back in the opposite direction of Kynoath's attacking path. Letting the meager flames remaining after the recent explosion lick at her tough hide. Apparently the larger green had not taken the hint that playing around firestone and people was not the brightest of ideas. The burning chunks rolled out of her way as she hopped back over to the untouched bags – this time deliberately spilling the bags to coat the ledge and inside of the infirmary.
She could have killed them all, you realize, and even now it wouldn't be that difficult of a feat to end this little scuffle with their burning corpses. So tell them, all of them, stand down before my hand is forced and we start taking lives. The blur of blue-green peeled away from the two browns, directing their attention to another taking to the skies upon hearing the call to battle. Another brown – Dsoleth. Four against one. Not fair at all, but who said Fort ever played fair?
It was fortunate, oddly enough, that Saraina's sweep managed to catch the woman's legs. Her body twisted in reaction, arm coming down to catch her fall – and to also become embedded by the arrow aimed for her more vulnerable core. Her yell of anger voiced the hit, and in her fury she flipped around to smash her boot into Saraina's face.
The man, L'en, smirked while twisting his body aside so the abdomen blow only skimmed by and it kept him within striking distance. His large hand caught the wrist of the rising slash. His knee made advantage of C'ryl's ducked position, the hard bone coming up to crack into the jaw of the other man. The canine jaws clamping on to his leather clad leg was an annoyance (and the chewing on his ankle dismissible in comparison). Still tangled with C'ryl, the fortian seized his own blade and made a stab at the canine's eye..
Two more, smaller male riders, came through the door, the first quickly taking notice of the arrow protruding from the arm of his wing member. His attention immediately snapped to the source, the sound of bending wood a sound his ears were attuned to pick up on. A knife left sheath and his hand in the next second, a small throwing blade directed at Evrgarde. He advanced, ducking low as he flung another one at her while moving to close the distance between them.
V'lyr was the last one to arrive. He took advantage of the scuffle to slip away, moving gracefully over the piled furniture jungle with a predator's intention to his actions. His eyes were already on a target, and he leaped down into the throng of hiding individuals. Nearly landing on the pink haired man. Fingers seized a handful of a nearby young girl's hair. He jerked her back, body against his own as a shield and making her head tilt back nicely so the view of his blade pressing firmly against the vulnerable flesh of throat was an obvious, clear sign. He turned himself so his back was to the wall, and the body between him and the rest of the room.
"Stand down," He stated loudly enough for the room to hear. A small trickle of blood riveted down the side of the female's neck. "Or she dies."
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Post by Sheari on Feb 3, 2010 17:43:21 GMT -5
Upon orders from Ismaroth, Pagoth burst from the weyr he was in and winged upward. It made sense to him to get away from the smoke since any disadvantage to them could prove just as bad for him as well. He growled as he saw the fortian dragons whirl in and around the selenitas dragons. Catching the sight of Ciceroth flying away the brown dove close to the fray and then followed the pale bronze. His mind brushed that of the bronze, letting him know that he was not an attacker, should he be disoriented. He didn't know where he was going but taking the fighting away from the infirmary was a good idea. Cowards! he projected to the attackers. Pagoth quickly withdrew then, beating his wings to gain altitude and speed.
Pain erupted in C'ryl's mouth as he nearly lost the tip of his tongue. His wrist was caught, the blade suspended away from it's mark. Go for the eyes! he cried in his mind. Child screeched and dove at the man's face, claws extended, wings flapping furiously. However futile, or useful, it may be. C'ryl tried to twisted away, though the grip on his wrist was firm. The flash of metal caught his eye and he reached up, switching the blade into his other hand. A voice came from the room and the the brownrider stopped struggling to look at the new development. It distracted the green from her rage enough to stop attacking and to perch on nearby furniture fearfully. All seemed to fall silent.
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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 Feb 3, 2010 21:35:22 GMT -5
Dsoleth hissed as he noticed Jaymith flame one of their own. Poor Ciceroth. Helping the Blizzard wing didn't mean go in flaming at anything that crosses your path. Jaymith should have been old enough by then to be able to judge the situation rather than going in. Their odds had just gone down. Damn High Reaches people dragging trouble to his weyr and making it necessary to fight. Him and His had left the north to avoid fighting as much as possible.
The brown growled darkly as he noticed four dragons coming after him. Two greens and two blues. His claws flexed as he rushed to meet them. He waited until they would be hard pressed to turn away before he flamed at two of the Fort dragons. They would either burn or manage some kind of an escape. He could only hope that that side of him would be safe from attack for the moment. He didn't bother trying to twist aside to avoid a direct collision with one of the greens. She'd either move or risk what he'd do to her. He ignored the fourth dragon.
T'san gripped his straps as his brown decided he'd rather take on four at once than get back up. Sharding stubborn beast. Don't get us killed Dsoleth! Call one of the others at the very least. Ignored. He couldn't entirely blame Dsoleth either since his dragon probably needed to concentrate more on trying to keep most of his hide intact rather than seeking out another mentally.
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Rowana
Hive Mind
Handler Roivao Rider G'tor Rider Merridan Rider T'ke Rider N'rik Handler Porita Rider Farryl Rider Kyr'n[/color
Posts: 1,550
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Post by Rowana on Feb 3, 2010 22:49:44 GMT -5
G'tor cursed inwardly. They were inside already! He had barely had time to reacted before they had attack the others. His first instinct was the jump in to help, but what could he do? Even with practice, he wasn't that skilled in a fight. He hesitated, afraid of accidentally hurting his comrades. At a sudden thought, he moved so that he was half in the entrance with his back to the wall. Hopefully C'ryl and Saraina could handle themselves, but they were dead if too many more got through. He kept one eye on the fighting on and one on the outside.
Ruskeath, what's happening? he asked anxiously. Ruskeath flashed him an image as he prepared himself. I must help Dsoleth. G'tor bite his lip. Shards but he hated fighting, and Ruskeath wouldn't be able to between without him. Be careful. Ruskeath assured him with a wave of calm, before focusing on the other brown's attackers. Four on one really wasn't fair at all. Three were at least distracted so Ruskeath focused on the last of the attackers. I am with you, brother! he called. With an explosion of leaves, he burst from his hiding place and charged the last Fort dragon from below. He didn't risk flame that might hit Dsoleth, but brought out sharp claws to rip at the exposed underbelly.
Inside, everything had stopped. G'tor felt anger rising, which was unusual for him. Taking hostages was such a cowardly trick, even if it was effective. It was reminding him of that last attack too much for comfort. Fort or Bendan, they were all pretty much the same when it came down to it. Last time, Star had created a distraction to help them escape, but he didn't think that would work again. He lowered his weapon, though he still watched outside through the corner of his eye. They had to do something fast!
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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 Feb 3, 2010 23:01:55 GMT -5
Good news and bad news, thats how he viewed his current situation, locked together with the enemy Brown. He had hoped that this would happen. Flapping his wings as he kept himself aloft, he listened in silence as the Brown spoke to him. I hold no love for High Reaches. But you know of loyalty, possibly more than any other Weyr. I have my orders, given by my Weyrleader. Any other course of action is mutiny. At this point, he made sure his grip was sure. And then Ciceroth's voice entered his head. Flames? He could almost feel the pain that the Bronze was in through his words, anger pricked up in his chest. The words of the other Brown did nothing to extinguish it. The Blues and Greens who flitted around him and the other Brown were only noticed because it meant they weren't paying attention to the emerging Blizzard wing. Well that and the small stings announcing each time one of their claws hit his hide. He broad casted to Jaymith, but allowed his words to be heard by the rest of the Dragons he had only moment ago given orders to. I said not to engage unless you have to! Which meant dodge and distract, not attack. Jaymith, you look and note before you flame! This gorge is small. Everyone needs to be precise. He was seething, eyes swirling red. Ermine. Sending his rider a picture, Ismaroth turned his attentions back to Talzeth.
Yes, she could have, but your Riders are in there as well. The question is not would Isacrifice part of my Wing, but would you sacrifice four of your Wing for a single man that is likely dead? Swiveling his wings as they dropped a little in altitude, Ismaroth tightened his grip. Opening his maw, the Brown twisted his head quickly before bringing forth the flame he had been saving. He held onto the other Brown for a few brief seconds before immediately slackening his grip and snapping shut his wings. The moment he broke physical contact, Ismaroth blinked between, using the coordinates he had sent to his human. He might be younger, but he had also been trained at Benden. Coming out of the void in the higher altitudes, Ismaroth (relieved that his rider had been able to concentrate) spiraled slowly in search of the other Brown.
Latching onto the picture as his Dragon sent it to him, E'rro risked being attacked in favor of not accidentally killing his Brown. It felt weird not being on Ismaroth, but fortunately they were close enough that it would work. Once the Brown was through, the Rider opened his eyes and cursed, the one moment he had been called away had allowed an attacker to slip through. It was official, once this was all done and over with and if he was still alive he'd have a little chat with S'rei about getting a nice demotion. Moving so that he faced the attacker and his hostage still well back near the furniture, E'rro tracked the man's movements, his hand positioned so it hung next to where his throwing knife was settled. Was he willing to let the girl die? Yes, but he'd rather not have it come to that. Back back, back from mine and bad guy. Nuisance poked his head out from behind a jar as he addressed the Selenitasians. If back, bad guy no grab more.
"You know thats not going to happen." Inching a little closer so that he was the closest person to the enemy Rider, E'rro narrowed his eyes slightly. "Wouldn't you rather hear the condition of the Rider you seek before we all start making choices that we will later regret? Or at least find very bothering..."
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Breaking through to clean air, Hokth swung in a one hundred and eight degree turn before taking off in the direction of Dsoleth. The four Dragons streaking toward him did not seem like an optimal position for him to be in. Dodging around one of the Maelstrom Dragons, Hokth dropped down into the smoke and ash before angling upward toward one of the Greens. Maw opening as he got close, the Blue shot a flame at the female before rolling away quickly. Why don't you play with me instead pretty one. I'm much more fun. Climbing higher he buzzed by her again with flame before winging away, careful to swing to either side slightly in case she came after him with her own flame. If she didn't come after him at all, he'd just go back and invite her to dance again. He was climbing higher, so that he would soon be in open air rather than the confined gorge.
She winced as the arrow wizzed by her, knowing that her fellow Bluerider had tried to take the enemy down. Jerking backward as the woman struck out with her foot, Saraina painfully caught it with an arm block. The force of the blow making her slide backward slightly. She was going to bruise something badly. Knife still in hand Saraina flipped onto the balls of her feet, so that she was crouching and leapt at the other ground-bound woman. The blade positioned toward the female's chest. Unlike the Fortian, her orders included nothing about only disabling her opponent.
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His claws hit tail. Snapping at the very end of it as the other Blue sped off to assist his injured Wingmate, Castidenloth roared furiously as both of them slipped Between seconds before he swept by them. Shards! Casti there go! Swinging around, the Blue began to climb. Betweening himself, the Blue appeared behind the four Riderless Dragons and veered left, sending a flame toward the direction of the Blues. Turning on his tail Castidenloth climbed upward, ascending as rapidly as he could. What had happened to his wing leader could happen again, and the less dragons in the gorge the less likely it was to occur. Especially now that almost the entirety of both wings had shown themselves. Snapping his wings closed, he dove back down at one of the Blues he had attacked, claws streaking past wingsails before Betweening. He reappeared far above the riderless contingency.
Come Brotherdear. We are no longer on the practice fields. Flapping his wings, he watched the Dragons below as his human watched the skies above them. The Fort Dragons were old enough for the Bluepair to have known, and K'thay doubted that none of them recognized Castidenloth. It was even possible that they had practiced with one of the Dragons from this wing, hence, the generalized mental jab at the Blue he had struck at.
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Post by kysseh on Feb 4, 2010 0:46:45 GMT -5
Raiyth’s tail twitched only slightly now to display agitation and concern, the pain in the appendage becoming too great to tolerate much motion. The green rumbled quietly in agitation, quickly following the noise with a gentle nudge to the younger green’s shoulder. It would not do for Peppeth to think that Raiyth was unhappy with her, oh no. It hurts worse now than it did at first. I want to still fly, but we can not go back to the infirmary if they are-
The green tipped her head to one side as one of her wingmates kindly informed her as to the state of the infirmary ledge. Oh dear, oh dear. This was unfortunate. The ledge is all aflame. They are setting our firestone aflame. What will we… we can not go back. They could not go back at that moment, no. What to do, what to do? Ciceroth… we can not get back onto the infirmary ledge with the firestone all over and on fire. What would you like Peppeth and I to do? she inquired of the bronze, her mental tones tightly controlled to keep from broadcasting her pain. Strategy was certainly not Raiyth’s strong suit, particularly with the majority of her mind crying in distress and some agony over her singed tail.
“She… she’s okay. It hurts her, but… I don’t have any numbweed or redwort to help it at all,” Fiona was saying anxiously to the other greenrider while Raiyth attempted to be practical. Her dark eyes were wide with fear, hands running anxiously over her green’s shoulder to feel the quivers. If only the Fort riders would just go away… “Raiyth is asking what they want for us.” The greenrider hesitated for a moment, unsure whether to continue loading down her dragon with stone or wait for further instructions.
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Dohulth could scarcely see for the smoke and barely resisted the temptation to fan at the air with his wings to clear the smog. That would only have encouraged the flames, and they had places to be. Ciceroth wanted them out, and the brown wished most fervently to comply, if only he knew where he was and where he had to go. It was quickly becoming impossible, though, and the sudden surge of heat at his right forequarter let him know in no uncertain terms that the time to act was growing short.
Hokth, Iorath, Ruskeath… I can not see. If you are still in the trees… The brown coughed thickly and finally flared his wings open fully, launching himself up and out of the brush. It was time to go, and he reached for His’ mind, needing a firm set of coordinates to between to. When the coordinates came, he passed them on to the other three males that had been hiding with him and winked between in an instant, re-emerging far above the canyon and soaring on widespread wings. It was not the best position, but it would do for the next moment until he could regain his breath. Within two breaths, he re-formed an image with His’ help and winked in and out of sight again, sheltering himself in an empty weyr until instructions came and ignoring the burning pain along his left shoulder. It was a mild burn, but it stung nonetheless. Too much heat.
K’von, tucked into his alcove and deep in focus with Dohulth, was overlooked in the chaos going on. It worked to his advantage initially, for it got his mindmate out of the way of the roaring jungle fire that would have otherwise cooked the dragon alive. Dohulth could not between without K’von still, an inconvenient fact that would have to be remedied at some point.
When the brownrider finally did manage to emerge from his semi-distant mental state, there were four intruders in the infirmary. He had just launched himself out of his protective alcove with the intent of taking out the next one to raise a knife when the sight of the man with his captive shield caught his attention. His expression shifted, hardened, his grip on the club tightening as he angled himself to get the best sight on all four of the interlopers. Not good, not good. Any attempts he made would be futile now. Shard it all. Kalierre had better be hiding….
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Setting up a triage station… a task easier said than done when one was navigating around a jumble of furniture, panicking humans, and people in authority who seemed to be happy to boss each other around.
Savitri was only halfway listening when R’wign asked her to endanger her fist, life, and occupation. Pushing, pulling, and tugging on furniture in an attempt to form a decent, if somewhat crowded, sort of set-up of beds and chairs for the wounded that would undoubtedly come forth. She was worried, though too many candlemarks in the presence of the weyrsecond had her fighting to keep that emotion from her face. Instead, her face was set in an expression of something resembling extreme focus. Or… perhaps extreme pain. “Sorry. Can’t reach her,” she muttered at R’wign as he brought supplies towards her, jerking over one of the smaller tables for him to set the objects on.
A sudden pressure around her neck made her nearly leap out of her skin until the sounds of quiet hissing became apparent. Ras, it seemed, was disliking the activity even more than usual. Strange. Too bad she could not have done something useful, the young woman thought grimly, nearly fumbling with a jar when a sudden and unfamiliar intrusion into her mind informed her that hiding was in order. Her eyes widened when she realized that the sounds coming from the hall entrance were not the sounds of preparation, and the goldrider immediately slid herself into one of the spaces between the furniture, tucked up into a ball as she peeked between spaces towards the ledge and the hall. Fire on one side… fighters on the other.
It made her feel completely and utterly helpless to do anything when one of the girls was snatched up as a hostage. She fisted her hands, her teeth grinding together almost audibly as she resisted the temptation to reach for Hepaticath’s aid. The gold, aware of all that was going on through Savitri’s awareness, wanted nothing more than to order their guests away, but to do so was unwise. Hepaticath and Savitri could not expose themselves. Just an apprentice… she reminded herself quietly, staying huddled right where she was and hoping the others had found shelter. E’rro knew how to handle the situation, didn’t he? Faranth, but she hoped so…
((Crap post. Sorry it took so long. <3))
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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 Feb 4, 2010 5:45:08 GMT -5
Kalierre's eyes narrowed. Firestone everywhere. They couldn't get all their patients out if that went - too many were close to the ledge as it was. There would be wounded. Dying. Some of hers. From what she could make out, the battle was still raging outside, and yes, a cold anger that had been buried deep for the better part of two candlemarks was bubbling to the surface. Were the dragons too steeped in their own sharding pride to realize she was going to lose half her staff if not more if they insisted on struggling? If that firestone was flamed any who weren't wounded or dead would be driven towards the fighters. There was enough firestone with the dragons, near her Phre, that she almost felt a twinge of desperation. The girl was an apprentice, a little southerner who hadn't had a hand lifted to her. She looked terrified. She should be.
The greenrider didn't care about orders. To her, some bronzerider from a foreign weyr - a weyr that had taken advantage and even attacked a clutch in the past - was not worth this. She didn't know what game they were playing at, they in this case being Selenitas. That wingsecond was the only one they had...the only one whose location they even knew of. And he was as good as dead anyway. Fort wanted him? They could have him. Orders be damned.
Kalierre drew out her cane, ignoring the prickling of fear that made her want to rage at the Fort riders here just for making her acknowledge that she was afraid, the weyrdragonhealer made her way to the door. Stepping over firestone as she did so. Pulling the key from between her breasts, she unlocked it, flung the door back hard enough that it clung against the stone. Just in case cripple walking out in the open while everyone else was fighting or hiding didn't get any notice. "Let the child go," she stated, her voice flat but raised to carry. "She's never done anyone any harm. You want your dying bronzer? Take him. Take him and go. We have no one else here you're looking for, and asking anyone here won't get you anywhere; they don't know either."
Would they believe her, when she said no one knew where the other High Reaches riders were? Probably not. Was it likely they'd just take him and leave? No. No, it wasn't, but...she was hoping, just the same. Ridiculous as it was. If nothing else it might buy time for Selenitas to get better organized so they could chase off the Fort riders without killing half her staff. Possibly. Her hand tightened around the staff, a brow cocked, the woman doing a fair job of keeping the fear from her face if you didn't notice how bloodless it was.
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Post by glamourie on Feb 4, 2010 7:09:44 GMT -5
Why were none of them listening. Did it not dawn on them to get away from the infirmary ledge, to draw them upwards? The Fort dragons would follow if they were being baited, attacked – no one seemed to get that. No, instead they flamed at each other and – and they were going to hurt Dsoleth. How had the organization spiraled so badly out of control? Fools. Ciceroth reached the top of the canyon and turned backwards before projecting mentally to Hokth and Castidenloth, with no small amount of fury in his voice, You are going to hit Dsoleth! Stop flaming! You have claws. USE THEM! It was as he spoke – skeptically analyzing the situation from above – that realization and subsequent fear dawned. The dragons were all riderless. How could they have missed that? How could they have not noticed such a key fact? If they were riderless, that meant that their riders were nearby – and likely already inside, making fighting against them not only futile, but foolish. Ciceroth’s eyes whirled his anger before he turned to Kynoath at his side. At least the green was following his orders – though how she’d managed to avoid getting torn up at all was beyond him. Good luck, he supposed.
Rysmine needs to get inside. He couldn’t between with the injuries and Ka’rys couldn’t go between as he was. He’d be more useful inside for fighting. The bronze beat his wings and flew close to the smaller dragon before speaking again. I’m too big of a target, and they’ll expect it from me. I need to be a distraction. I need you to take him to one of the weyrledges. Not the inferno that is the infirmary. The nearby ledges. Close enough for him to jump would be fine. And then I need you and Ylonth to put that fire out – at any cost. Get the infirmary ledge cleared off. I do not care how you two accomplish this, but it must be done – and fast. Protecting a burning region is worthless to us. Do you understand?
Ka’rys didn’t give Kynoath or her rider a chance to respond. He worked quickly to unfasten his straps before literally throwing himself from Ciceroth to Kynoath – an undoubtedly strange movement, but it was fortunately block by the sheer mass of Ciceroth’s wings and the fact that most of the Fort dragons were already busy. He managed to scramble uncomfortably up behind Rayne before leaning forward to speak to her directly, “The Fort dragons are riderless. Their riders are inside. I have to get in there to help – we can’t between with injuries like this. But we can’t make it obvious what we’re doing. It has to be fast; the Fort dragons can’t know that I’m coming inside. So no flaming – flaming runs the risk of hitting our own and we’re already making foolish mistakes. I need Kynoath to be as fast as she can in dropping me on one of the infirmary-side ledges, and then to immediately attack. She’ll probably get injured, because she’s presenting a very open target. It’s this or we give up now. Do you understand?”
Ka’rys was not terribly fond of the idea of putting his wing at risk. He didn’t even like that they were his wing to command. However, there weren’t any alternatives. Selenitas was in too much danger to simply stand back. If putting Kynoath in the line of fire kept them all safe, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Priorities.
Ciceroth touched Hepaticath’s mind hesitantly as he swept up higher and to the side, turning to look down at the dragons below. Too many Selenitas riders to flame safely; he hoped they’d come after him to wipe out the leader. Hope remained eternal. Rysmine is going to come inside to try and help. He asks Yours to relay how many are inside? he asked, as Raiyth’s query reached him. Anxiety filled his eyes and he responded carefully, The firestone has to be in a reachable place that they cannot harm anyone with. Find one, Raiyth. I trust your judgment. Stay out of flames. Between if you have to. Flames are rampant. He didn’t want her hurt by accident because people couldn’t aim. Angry, he was.
Scuffle. Fighting. R’wign’s heart beat faster and he tensed, forcibly keeping himself down and out of sight. The sudden pressure on the cot next to him made R’wign actually half-roll under it to be out of sight, but at a bad cost: the hand seized grabbed one of the younger apprentices and his heart stopped. So did his breathing. He shot one hand out after her, but it was to no avail; she was pulled out of sight, out of reach before he could grab her. Bile welled up in his stomach and he rolled out from under the cot as a voice that he didn’t recognize rang out from one of the nearby walls and the threat made his head and insides hurt – he honestly wondered for a moment if someone had literally torn some of his insides out because there was not supposed to be a hole like that. Even Checkoth’s reassurances did nothing to calm him, and as R’wign peaked up and over the bed, he was hit with what felt like the force of a thousand dragons at once. A mere hand swipe over and it would’ve been him. Not a little girl.
Kalierre’s movement drew his attention and R’wign turned his head to follow her, but he didn't speak. He couldn’t. He didn’t stand up, didn’t move from his spot by the cot, but as the dragonhealer spoke, he did turn back to the little girl to meet her gaze. He tried to offer her a reassuring look – difficult when he was sure he’d throw up – and tightened his grip on the cot. It was probably good that Kali was speaking because he couldn’t. Part of him wanted to throw himself over there and try to free the little girl. Only Checkoth practically raging at the idea kept him in line – kept him crouching, rather than standing back up. The anger his dragon felt was almost tangible, and R’wign was somewhat comforted by it – at least then he didn’t have to face off against… against his own conscience. He could blame Check for cowardice. Right.
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