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Post by missa on Feb 9, 2008 14:02:04 GMT -5
Once he'd been freed, Rinth naturally thought His would get out of the danger, he didn't however, and the bronze grew confused. His wasn't hurting anyone but he was watching for an oppurtunity. Obviously, he couldn't leave E'nor just slumped there, and they did have to save Ciara, oh shards. Great, he had only his small dagger, and unlike the others around, he had no experience with fighting.
You are free, you should be coming back to me! Rinth if I leave I'll never forgive myself. W'liam responded shortly, running his hand's through his hair. Then of course, the chaos had to break out, and there was nothing he could do about it, chewing on his lip as he watched them, they needed help, yes, but not his. Why had he been chosen by a bronze? Z'hin was far more worthy of Rinth than W'liam would ever be.
Rinth, get Clestioth to wake E'nor He spoke swiftly, while mentally reaching out for Willow, the green was there instantly, landing on his shoulder for a moment. If she was the only weapon he had well, it had best go well. E'nor woke with a start, and Willow instantly launched at the man holding him, clawing and biting desprately as she darted, trying to keep out of reach. "Right, E'nor, know any fighting?" Pulling his fellow weyrling out of the way as he spoke, he was dissapointed to see E'nor shake his head. "Fine, get to Ciara, help if you can. Call Kel if you have to." He spoke quickly, not knowing what else he could do to help E'nor, besides, the others knew fighting...
Yelping in shock as only a backward leap saved him from injury, W'liam blinked in shock as he came face to face with yet another of their captors, oh shards. Fumbling for a moment to draw his dagger, W'liam stepped back as he stepped forward. It was going to get ridiculous, a whole heap of dancing around. So, W'liam did the opposite to what he'd been doing, he lunged forward. Shoack had the benden rider stumbling backwards, quite luckily impaling himself on a handy tree branch. Remind me to love trees He spoke softly to Rinth, managing a slight smile for no real reason.
Okay now, Z'hin right. Turning to Willow he smiled, whistling softly as the green flitter left teh mans fac to claw at someone new. Well, now they just had to figure out- Looking up in shock as the two dragons landed and wincing as the blue cried out, he scuttled to teh side. Not knowing what else to do. Again, his eyes turned to the riders holding Z'hin, guilt curling in his stomach. He had to do something! Biting his lip as he moved closer, W'liam glanced once at teh dragons before placing the dagger at the spine of the man holding the knife. Gee, and how much did he know about threatening people? Let's see, none. You can do it, I know you can. You're my rider, there's nothing you can't do. Well, yes there was lots, but Rinth was right, he was a bronze rider, if he couldn't help now.. "Let him go." Shocking himself at the low, icy cold tone, W'liam glanced at Z'hin once before speaking again. "You hurt him, and I'll sever your spine. Assuming you have one of course."
~*~
Okay doing things, Ciara yes okay. Swallowing hard as E'nor ducked, and weaved in and out of the fighting, automatically calling Kel to him as he waited, the opportunity came in the form of Uu'n, hurling himself at the brown rider, which gave E'nor a chance to hurry forward, kneel down by Ciara and pull her to her feet.
"Don't, scream. Please, it hurts my ears." E'nor whispered, grasping her hand tightly as he bent to grab the small dagger from his boot. Ugh, could he even use it? Biting his lip before shaking his head, he smiled as Kel popped in from between, screeching angrily. "Stay with us Ciara. Kel and I won't let anything happen to you." Ah yes, brave words from the one candidate that had fainted during the tourturing, and had W'liam not sent him to fetch and protect Ciara, would have stood dumbstruck.
"We'll be okay, don't give up yet Ciara." He mumbled, half to reassure himself, and half to reassure her. Though Ciara was brave, she wouldn't need reassuring, she probably wasn't even scared. E'nor was, he was terrified, but he wasn't going to give up. He had Clestioth to fight for, and really, what better reason could he hope for?
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Post by neeuqtar on Feb 9, 2008 15:56:06 GMT -5
Uu'n hissed as M'rgon's knife sliced into his shoulder muscle, only his shoulder-blade keeping the knife from driving through to the other side. Idiotic man--blindly stabbing at the back would cause damage, but unless he managed to get through the ribs to sever an artery, or slip his knife between two vertebra, Uu'n would live long enough to make him feel true pain. Brutally, Uu'n smashed his knee upwards, between the brownrider's legs. The young blueweyrling had grown up with people who fought dirty, and this was no different. His dirk lay in the blood-soaked earth, an arm's reach away... no matter. A dagger was better for such close contact.
Flinging himself to the side, still clinging to the Benden-rider, Uu'n got a fraction closer to the dirk. The movement saved his life, as M'rgon's knife lanced down along his side, cutting across his ribs, rather than between them. The creature was... talking? Uu'n didn't even bother to sort the words apart, too busy fighting for his life. Something about being responsible for the slaughter--what nonsense. As stupid as claiming M'rgon would spare even one of the weyrlings. He killed them for the sins of Benden, and Uu'n would not accept death.
Slashing at M'rgon's side, with every intention of giving him the painfully fatal belly-cut that made a man rot from the filth in his own intestines, Uu'n rolled with M'rgon again. Only one more roll, and the gleaming length of metal lying half-upright in the bloody mud would be wetly red, through M'rgon's back. With a feral howl, Uu'n slammed M'rgon at the blade, trying to get his own dagger behind the man in case the dirk would not cut him. Someone ran to Ciara, and the most brutal gleam of vengeance came into his mind. With the same motion as his attack, Uu'n buried his teeth into M'rgon's neck, as feral as any animal.
During the attack, Adith was not standing calmly by. Knowing he could do nothing for His, the blue bellowed impotently, his voice keening into the howl to signal the kill for a bare moment before he attacked. Protecting his wings, the dragon snaked his neck out, almost delicately, before plunging down onto an unfortunate Benden-rider, teeth sinking into the man's torso and ripping upwards. Adith shook the man like a rag-doll in the mouth of a canine, blood pouring down his jaws, then flung the pitiful body at the men holding Z'hin captive. The body struck one wetly, with enough force that bones broke--but whether in the dead man or the live, Adith didn't know, and didn't care.
Straddling the fighting duo, M'rgon and Uu'n, the blue dared any to get into the fight, rearing and stomping down on one who tried, his tail whipping through the clearing with deadly speed, striking those not quick enough to duck, among them P'tol's captor. The greenweyrling fell to the ground, breath struck from his chest, and half-dazed. Weakly, he struggled to get up, but it was hard enough just to draw a breath. In the mud, eye-to-eye with a dead weyrling and pinned beneath a dead man, P'tol fought for breath, his vision graying as he gasped. MINEMINEMINE stayAWAKE!!! Llath wailed. Yes, of course, P'tol sent back weakly, getting his arms underneath of him and pushing up enough that the corpse slipped off of him, then dragging himself to the side of the clearing.
Weakly, the boy picked up a bloody knife, dropped by one now dead, and forced himself to stand, gasping with pain. Some of his ribs had to be broken.... P'tol staggered over to Ciara and E'nor. "Come... on--" he gasped out, as Adith slammed down scarily close to them. "Don't think... he... dragon..." P'tol closed his eyes, a spasm of pain crossing his features. Llath, please tell them! The green dragon whimpered, then obeyed. TheblueAdith he doesn'tknowyou'rethere! she cried to them, her circles getting tiny and quicker. Pleasepleaseplease getoutgetout!! the green sent to Ciara and E'nor, perhaps splashing out a little bit. Now if only they could understand her...
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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 9, 2008 17:38:47 GMT -5
A voice sounded, one that was both familiar and unfamiiar. W'liam? But...he'd never heard the bronzeweyrling speak so coldly. That explained why he wasn't swimming in his own blood already, though, especially with M'rgon's screamed order. Attempting to twist his head to get a better idea of what was going on, Z'hin stopped as the blade bit into his skin. They didn't move to kill him. A quick testing of his muscles, however, proved that they didn't intend to let him go just yet, either. Every passing second gave someone the opportunity to notice and come after W'liam. Then the Benden dragonrider spoke.
His breathing came raggedly. Doubtless he was terrified. But the voice didn't let on. "If you stab me now, boy, he'll die with me."
It was true, Z'hin realized immediately. One twitch from the dragonrider and he'd be looking at a slashed throat. But W'liam's presence had saved his life so far. His mind worked furiously, clinging to the hope that he could get this to work in his favor. Somehow.
That was when the body came hurtling their way, crashing into one of the men holding Z'hin's arms, the foot clipping the brownweyrling in the head. Watch it, Adith! Jessereth rumbled sharply. Slumping back against the man who held a dagger to his throat, who in turn was being held by W'liam, Z'hin maintained enough presence of mind to bring his elbow back sharply into the man's kneecap. He hissed as the blade slashed across a cheekbone and the man crumpled...Doubtless W'liam's dagger took care of him well enough as he collapsed.
Of course, that left the last of them. Still a bit dazed from being clobbered in the head, Z'hin found himself beneath the last of his captors, struggling against the man's strength to keep the blade from traveling that extra inch and plunging into his heart. His arms trembled against the strain. He'd fallen in such a way that he couldn't get his knee up, the other man having planted a knee in his stomach so he couldn't roll or dislodge him. Sweat broke out on Z'hin's face as he felt his muscles giving.
"W'liam! I can't hold him off much longer!" He might have tried to headbutt the man, but that would require lifting his shoulders from the ground and closer to the knife. Z'hin had no idea where the others were, but he knew W'liam was close, and he trusted the bronzeweyrling. Hopefully nothing had happened to him. He couldn't see the other weyrling from this angle.
***
By this point, everyone was giving Phremath as much room as they possibly could. Her tail had caused quite a bit of damage in the first few moments of her arrival. Of course the dragonriders would obey M'rgon, but there were far easier targets at the moment than the woman under the protection of the violent, thrashing green. She didn't seem to be doing so well, anyway.
Don't! With a snarl, Phremath placed a foreleg in Kalierre's path, forcing the woman's crawl to a halt. Don't move, she added, gentler. E'nor. P'tol. Ciara. You must get them away from Adith. I won't leave you, the green responded stubbornly. We can't let another die, Phremath. We can't. Adith, he might hurt them. See? He doesn't seem to know they're there. Phremath looked, stilling. The pain at the deaths of the others and the fierce protective streak running through Hers battled against her resolve. You'll be all right?
Kalierre smiled a wan smile, the fingers of her hand curling tightly around a fallen dagger. Hers or someone else's, she was no longer certain. Go. Phremath hesitated another moment, then surged forward, throwing herself between Adith and the three weyrlings huddling together. Hurry the green urged them. Into the trees.
The dragonhealer had drawn herself up against the trunk of a tree, calmly loosening the tourniquet for a few moments so that the tissues in her arm wouldn't die from lack of blood, then tightening it again just as calmly. Or, rather, she was outwardly calm. Her eyes followed the fight between M'rgon and Uu'n, desperately wanting to do something, anything, but helpless. Booted feet came into her peripheral vision. Glancing up, she smiled a chilling grin.
"Hi lovely. Want to play?" She twirled the dagger lightly between her fingers, taunting him with her steady gaze. It wasn't over yet. Kalierre had enough pent-up anxiety right now to run the length of the Selenitas river and back. The man returned her feral smile. He had no idea who he was dealing with, did he?
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Post by ravenmane on Feb 13, 2008 22:54:38 GMT -5
Ciara looked up hopefully as Uu’n taunted M’rgon. If the boy could distract the monster long enough, maybe, just maybe, she could struggle free. Her blue eyes widened with terror as the Brownrider’s bloody fingers traveled across her abdomen. Shudders raced through her body as M’rgon played with her, toying with her mind. She wanted to be far away from here, as far as humanly possible. Ciara wanted to be safely beside her beloved Toryth, and cuddle with lovable Eryn. But right, she was in the murderous hands of M’rgon.
When the cold metal touched her chest, her stomach tightened and her heart pounded with fear. As it slowly cut into her flesh, fresh whimpers escaped the girl’s mouth, piercing the air with her fear. Blood oozed out of the wounds, staining the clothing it touched. Cold and frighteningly tender lips touched her throat, caressing the main artery in her neck. How close that cruel man came to her weakest spot. All he had to do was cut right where he kissed her and Ciara would die within moments. As the knife began cutting through cloth, the terror and panic that the weyrling felt grew greater every moment she was kept in the man’s arms.
Uu’n’s body slammed into her and M’rgon, knocking the girl and her captor to the ground. As she was released to roll away, Ciara silently thanked Uu’n for saving her. She just lay there, too traumatized to move or speak. Then, another person appeared at her side, helping her to her feet. Ciara clung to the boy, quickly recognizing that it was E’nor that she held on to. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks as the boy comforted her. Eryn appeared above Ciara, chirping with relief. The silly Green landed on the girl’s shoulder, franticly rubbing her head against Ciara’s cheek. “T-t-thank you, E’nor.”
The girl looked to the clearing when she noticed P’tol stumbling towards the small group. Ciara rushed to the boy’s side, gently helping out of the danger zone. Blue eyes glanced back to see Uu’n and M’rgon fighting, various Weyrlings defending themselves, and a very angry Adith attacking stupid Bendenites. Ciara looked up sharply as a voice sounded in her head. It wasn’t her beloved Toryth that spoke, but the healer Kalierre’s Green. “Thanks.” Ciara pulled P’tol towards the trees, motioning for E’nor to follow. “C’mon! We have to get to a healer.” The girl cringed for a moment as she moved incorrectly, pulling at her cuts.
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Post by Administrator on Feb 15, 2008 12:43:44 GMT -5
As M’rgon wrestled on the ground with Uu’n, nothing else existed. It was just him and this weyrling, a stupid little rider of a crippled dragon. The fact that he might die did not once come into his head. Of course he would win this. He didn’t even realize as the other men were calling a retreat. Too many of them had died, and they didn’t want to die at the hands of cripple-weyrlings. That would be shameful. However, it was M’rgon who had more pride than them. To run away would be to admit defeat, therefore he would keep on fighting. He growled at Uu’n, trying fiercely to stab the neck as he tried dodging the wild swings of the blade.
He was trained in combat, of course he wouldn’t go down easily. His idiot comrades would be punished the moment they returned to Benden. These were crippled weyrlings; he could take them out single-handedly. And then he would be the one honored. With these thoughts, his ego took a little boost. Unfortunately, this made him stay his head—enough of a pause to give Uu’n the chance to slash his side just as he intended. Howling with pain as the dirk cut through his skin, the metallic scent of blood—his own this time—sickened him, for the first time in his life. A weyrling, of a crippled dragon, no less, was destroying him!
Unwilling to let this happen—not even realizing that he was dying, he struggled against Uu’n even harder. Hissing as even more poured from the second wound, and then the teeth in his neck, he still did not realize his downfall was imminent. In one final act of violence, he wrenched his neck weakly from Uu’n, slamming his head into Uu’n’s own. In a wild hallucination, he believed he had killed him, but this proud, false feeling only lasted for a moment. With the loss of blood and the hard hit to the head, M’rgon’s world went black.
The keening of a dragon was heard over the trees, only to end abruptly. On M’rgon’s one-eyed, scarred face was a crazed smile, going into death believing himself the victor. At the death of their leader, the remaining riders hesitated no longer, darting into the trees, dropping the weyrlings they still had. There was no point now that their leader was dead. Little would they know that this cowardice would get them killed later in the evening by the orders of C’leon. But their job, at least, was half done; most of the weyrlings were dead.
But not all.
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Post by neeuqtar on Feb 15, 2008 14:46:07 GMT -5
M'rgon's wild slashing opened a gash on the back of his neck, the blood running down and staining his blond hair crimson, mingling with the coagulating blood from the cut on his scalp. His knife plunged deep into the brownrider's side, tearing through the soft belly, and Uu'n knew he'd struck a fatal wound. He gouged downward, blood and filth pouring around his hand, making the grip on the hilt difficult and slippery. He hissed as the man ripped his neck from Uu'n's grasp, tearing his big veins. And then... it was over, the monster dead. Uu'n struggled to his feet, slightly dazed, and spat M'rgon's blood from his mouth, wiping the red iron from his lips with the back of his arm. Disgusting. He spat on the body, and leaned against Adith weakly. Kalierre? With Phremath, the dragon responded, nostrils flaring as the remaining few men fled the weyrlings.
The blueweyrling nodded, barely, the slight movement making his head ache. He slowly knelt, retrieving his dirk, and wiping both on the still-warm body of M'rgon. They were still filthy, but... no help for that now. The young man sheathed both, before getting shakily back to his feet, fighting off a wave of graying vision and nausea. Blood loss... scorch it. Still, he'd caught a glimpse of Kalierre fighting... he had to make sure she was okay, and Adith didn't seem inclined to stop him.
Uu'n hauled himself onto Adith, feeling weak and faintly nauseous. The loss of blood wasn't helping at all, making his vision go a little gray on the edges, and making him feel very cold. Take me to her? The dragon assented, stepping carefully over the bodies in the clearing before bounding over to Phremath, weaving through the dense jungle forest. Uu'n jumped off, almost passing out from the exertion, and felt the wound on his shoulder start bleeding more. Cursing under his breath, the blueweyrling knelt by her, pulling off his shirt with only a moment's regret. "You need to get that bound better," he told her, wiping his bloody hands on his pants before ripping the cloth into strips and binding the terrible wound in her arm, wrapping the strips tight. "You're a healer, you should know better," he informed her. "At least you're alive." Uu'n looked up, the faintest of smiles on his bloody face. He rubbed his forehead, wavering. Phremath, can Yours make Mine see sense? They need to get to the Healers and I don't think he'll listen to me, Adith sent to Phremath. Uu'n caught it and shook his head. "Adith, I'm FINE," he insisted, shaking his head violently. His vision went completely gray, and the young man almost fell over, catching himself--barely--with a hand against a tree. "I'm fine," he reiterated, dully, refusing to believe that he could just power through this, despite his serious injuries.
P'tol followed Ciara and E'nor. "W-we'll be okay," he told the two, huddling against a tree in the clearing. The shriek of M'rgon's brown met his ears and he smiled, oh-so-faintly. "See? Uu'n won... they're running away... we won..." He didn't sound like he believed himself. "Ciara? You're... okay, right? I'll call Llath... she can carry us back on the ground..." The weyrling stopped, blushing. He felt so... stupid. Useless. You can get us, right? YesMine! Llath chirped back, completing her circuits, now of joy more than worry, and leapt out of her weyr, heading for the clearing that P'tol directed her to.
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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 15, 2008 15:33:19 GMT -5
Kalierre heaved a sigh as the dragonrider seemed to think better of bothering her, turning to disappear into the trees. They all were leaving. All but M'rgon, who still struggled with Uu'n. She knew she wouldn't get there in time and, if she did, she wouldn't be able to do anything, so she just rested against the tree and tried not to think. Her eyes wouldn't close, though. Kali had to be sure Uu'n would be all right. As soon as the three weyrlings were clear, Phremath returned to Hers. In the end, it was the blueweyrling who stood, covered in blood. Kalierre fought back tears. Not for Uu'n. But for the weyrlings...the corpses. An unreasonable desire to go from body to body and search for even the faintest stirring of life needled at her. Instead, she found herself going into a state of shock, staring at the slashed artery in her arm. She flicked it and noted the pain as if from a great distance. Just great. They'd need to clamp it, and get someone with a knack for surgery to repair the thing...
The woman looked up at Uu'n dully, blinking, before his state brought her back to her senses. She was aware of the tears, but it seemed as if it was someone else who was weeping, not her. Kalierre didn't protest to him binding her arm, though it was hardly practical. The bloodflow was cut off from the tourniquet. They'd just tear skin and exposed muscle when they had to cut off the bandage to get to the arm. But she recognized his need to do something, and avoided snapping at him for not seeing to himself. There was an angry slash across his ribs, and so much blood in his hair you could no longer tell he'd ever been blonde. The greenweyrling couldn't bring herself to return the smile. Alive? Yes, she supposed that was good.
Don't worry, Adith. It's over now. They'll get back to Selenitas, and things will be okay. "None of us are fine," Kali stated, quietly. She rose slowly, trailing blood up the trunk of the tree from the slash in her back she'd almost forgotten about. That must be where the lightheadedness was coming from. She pressed herself against Uu'n, wrapping her good arm about his waist. "Everyone else is leaving. We should, too. Someone might...come back..." Kali managed a couple of steps toward Adith and Phremath, but then she wavered, nearly toppling over herself.
A hand settled on her shoulder, easing her away from Uu'n. Kalierre blinked blearily at Z'hin. He looked ghastly with the slash across his face, but, other than that, the man seemed mostly unharmed. The dragonhealer swallowed. "You can manage it to Phremath?" Kali nodded silently. "Then I'll take him." He smiled a rather wan smile. "Least I can do. Come on, Uu'n. Adith will get you to the infirmary. No arguing, either. You may be the hero of the day, but right now I think I could wipe the floor with you." His light tone continued softly as he urged the blueweyrling onward, back toward Adith, leaving Kalierre standing where she was.
The greenweyrling made her way to Phremath. Finally. It took all her strength to mount the green, despite her bonded's help. As Phremath rose fully and began to move toward Selenitas as quickly as she dared, Kalierre found herself burying her face against the green's neck.
The tears simply wouldn't stop.
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Post by missa on Feb 20, 2008 4:23:59 GMT -5
Shock went across W'liam's face as Z'hin moved, as everything moved so quickly, he'd barely blinked before chaos seemed to erupt everywhere. Someone called his name, and W'liam turned his head back towards Z'hin, surprise that it had been him of all people. You should really stop thinking, Jessereth's is in trouble. Help him. Typcial, Rinth was telling him what to do, just not how to do it.
Swallowing hard as he stepped forward, W'liam's hand tightened on the dagger he clutched. It was unlikely he'd manage to use it, mostly out of fear of missing and harming Z'hin. There wasn't much choice either way, Z'hin would be hurt if W'liam didn't do something, probably worse than an accidental slip. Oh how reassuring his own thoughts were... Not. Yet it seemed just as he'd moved to help, just as he'd made the decision to do something, the rider pulled away. Something about retreating?
It wasn't until he was standing alone that W'liam actually felt shock, Reaching out for Rinth and Willow, hands shaking as he placed the small dagger in it's sheath. Instantly, the green blinked in, worried for Hers as she dropped onto W'liam's shoulder, nuzzling him unhappily as though urging him to find Rinth and escape. Hands stroked her hide gently, forcing himself to turn as the others moved. "It's okay now. It's over." Whether he was talking to his flitt or himself was uncertain.
***
He didn't even here her thanks, following her almost absently. There was only one thing E'nor wanted, he wanted his dragon. Wanted to curl up on Clestioth's side and know everything would be alright, not even seeing the men retreat helped him at the moment. "Y-you're o-okay?" E'nor stammered out, looking at both of them, blue eyes wide and terrified.
Clestioth... He whispered mentally, sinking to the ground, not even noticing when Kel returned to comfort him, landing on his shoulder and squeaking unhappily, pressing close to his shoulder and crooning, low in his throat. You are safe! The shout in his mind was so joyful that E'nor managed a small, if choked laugh. Cudding Kel close as he buried his face in the brown's hide, fighting the urge to cry, with Ciara there, and even P'tol, he wouldn't. I come soon! Yes, that's what I'll do, I come soon, I come get you then everything will be good again. Yes, good, happy, joyful. You'll be with me, asnd no one will ever, ever, ever take you away again.
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