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Post by Administrator on Apr 19, 2008 22:32:03 GMT -5
The time was right. The dragons were all calm and subdued, just as the plans allowed. Their host of dragons could descend upon the Weyr without being stopped. C'leon smiled wickedly, looking down briefly at the unmoving sack that was dangling off of Morsrath. The time had come to prove his power. The dragons here wouldn't chase them off; the drug in the water would certainly dope them long enough to proceed with their plans. Sure, it was a pity that S'rei wasn't here, but he would be easy to take down once their... prizes were disposed of. C'leon turned behind him to look at the other bronzes that accompanied him here. "Land in the Hatching Ground, order the weyrfolk to come and watch," he barked at the Wingleaders and wingseconds. Commands soon flew across the Weyr, further keeping the dragons calm and slow, unable to resist through the fog that the drugs gave them. He smiled coldly, and flew Morsrath majestically over the river and into the Hatching Ground.
The sack dangling from Morsrath gave a weak movement. C'leon frowned, but it didn't matter. She would be too weak to fight herself free even if she did wake up. Rath, tell R'non to bring the young queen's rider to C'leon,[/color] Morsrath told the other bronze coldly. C'leon needed Kaegan to make this perfect. After all, Kaegan was legally his. She was merely a runaway who needed to be punished. By catching Shmee, and getting S'rei out of the way, this left the way clear for Benden. Now he would show this Weyr who their boss was. Morsrath landed on the hot sand, and only when he was firmly on the ground did C'leon leave to untie the sack. It wriggled slightly harder in his grip, but he held on tightly. Dropping it onto the sands, he undid it, pulling it off the weakened body beneath it.
Shmee squeezed her eyes shut. She hadn't seen light like the sun in so long, and it was blinding. Her pale, extremely pregnant body writhed in agony of the scorching sands, of the blistering sun, of hunger, of thirst, and from where she had been knocked on the head to remain unconscious. However, her first thoughts went straight to Aslath. Where is S'rei? she demanded, frightened, yet to exhausted to do anything.
Over the moon, like your uncle,[/color] Aslath replied vaguely. Shmee groaned on the sands, clutching her large belly. If she knew the real time, she would have known she was 6 months. But all time was lost to her. But why was Aslath acting so funny...?
The other bronzeriders had settled around the sands, and began to pile wood on top of each other into a large mound. Oil was sprinkled on it. C'leon smiled. All he needed was Kaegan, and an audience, and all would be complete...[/size]
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Post by kysseh on Apr 19, 2008 23:09:57 GMT -5
Dohulth's unusual sluggishness was the thing that tipped K'von off to something wrong. After a prolonged argument with the brown that yielded little coherent response on the part of the dragon, the young man had figured out that something was up, and it put his survival instincts on high alert. The last time he'd heard such foggy responses, he'd been talking to a fellow dragonrider who was lathered in numbweed and dosed with fellis following a Threadfall accident. Had someone fellis-dosed Dohulth? Anger replaced fear for a moment, and then the orders came. Somewhere between the terms 'Hatching Ground' and 'Benden', K'von began to see red. Sharding Benden... sharding violent ruthless Benden.
He went down to the Hatching Grounds without a great deal of protest, though he certainly wasn't happy about it. With Dohulth still rather subdued in the back of his mind, he felt quite vulnerable as he joined the other weyrfolk on the blistering sands. His anger increased, fear accompanying it, at the sight of the mound of wood. By the shell of the first egg... they were going to burn someone, weren't they?
Less than pleased about being dragged from the infirmary in the middle of her shift, Savitri scowled at the sight that greeted her upon her arrival at the Hatching Grounds. She wasn't well-accustomed to weyr customs, but this didn't seem normal to her. The sight of a smiling man overseeing the building of what looked like a funeral pyre further incited her annoyance and anger. They weren't... were they riders from another weyr? None looked familiar to her, and that alone made her edgy. She didn't like this in the least.
She had half a mind to vent at someone, so she made her way to the closest of the unfamiliar riders, keeping a healthy distance between herself and the mysterious construction project. "What is going on? I have patients to tend to, and you all are disrupting their treatments!" They were going to sharding listen to her, whether they wanted to or not. She was not going to stand for this.
The middle of the day was not the time of day that Swithin wanted to be awake, but awake, he was. He'd been rudely awakened during the middle of his sleep, and he'd reluctantly dragged himself from his cot. The wherling had pulled on his clothes and gone to attend to his sleeping wher. He needn't have awakened Swisk, though. The blue was already awake and alert. The young creature was tired but made so anxious by the situation in the weyr that he had been within a heartbeat of crawling in alongside his bonded. Though Swithin tried to soothe the wherling back to sleep, Swisk wasn't having it. After a few moments of debate, in which Swisk stubbornly refused to let his bonded face the unknown alone, Swithin had to get creative.
Thus, the tall teen found himself carrying his little wher in his arms. The creature was still small enough and light enough to be easily carried, especially for someone of Swithin's strength. Rigging a blinding hood of blankets had taken a few moments of inventiveness, but with the cloth tied securely about the little wherling's head, Swisk's eyes were covered against the bright light. Swithin slipped into the Hatching Grounds with the rest of the crowd and hid in the shadiest spot he could find, setting Swisk down and stroking him gently and uttering wordless apologies for the indignity of the hood. The wher was unfazed, though, simply clinging to his bonded and tilting his head to one side to listen to what was going on.
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Post by randi on Apr 19, 2008 23:39:42 GMT -5
With Bearinth's lack of activity for the last few days, K'nam had become worried. It was not like the dragon to give incoherent responses or to lack the will to move out of his weyr. At first, the bronzerider had thought that Bearinth was sick, but the lack of activity around the Weyr suggested otherwise.
The moment slightly familiar faces began dancing through the halls, ordering people to go to the Hatching Grounds, he had lost all coherent though. Benden had done this, and, whatever it was, could not end well for anyone of Selenitas Weyr. At first, he had tried to struggle, but it had become apparent that he could not, would not be able to reach Kaegan before they got to her. Damn them!
The usually calm man felt a burst of pain within his head, rage stirring up within his mind. Bearinth, please! However, the dragon just watched K'nam be removed, muttering something about him needing to spend more time with his friends.
His dragon was drugged, his single fairly decent acquaintence out of reach. Defeated, K'nam followed to the Hatching Ground, casting one last glimpse over his shoulder at Bearinth before being taken to where the boats would continue. The dragon waved a wing slowly before yawning and stretching out. He had never felt so useless. He was herded like a beast into the Hatching Ground, spotting the previously missing Shmee being blinded by the light. C'leon. Spotting the other man made his blood boil all the more, though he managed to somehow remain calm outwardly, managed by some miraculous occurance to keep from wasting his life to rid the man reintruding where he wasn't wanted. Would never be wanted. His headache gradually increased, his hands fluttering at his sides.
They had to do something! What did he have to work with? He'd left all sharp implements at his weyr, his dragon was useless. There was no point in getting himself killed. Not yet.
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Fortith was never placid. He was never comfortable with the way things were. In the scarce months he'd been bonded to the demon of a dragon, L'ron had learned that. As Fortith had fallen into a lazy trance, the weyrling had grown near hysterical inwardly about the state of things. Fortith had to be planning something, had to be thinking SOMETHING, and yet the dragon showed no malice, no hatred. Except for the occasional "shut up," the blue wasn't even unpleasant!
In his panic, the feminine boy had to have some sort of solid ground to stand on. He had to have something there to help him remain firmly rooted, to convince him that the Fortith he thought he knew wasn't suddenly going to turn into a bubbly ball of boring. While Fortith refused to speak sense, something in L'ron's mind had switched on to give him a constant stability on which to rely. Without his evil little creature at least half-heartedly plotting, L'ron's mind had filled the hole to keep him safe.
Now, when he had to leave Fortith behind... Don't be absurd. You will go. I'll not have you fussing over me like a woman, L'ronmine. It was not by his own will that he went to the Hatching Grounds, nor by his own that made him admire the bronzerider before him. He had drugged the dragons, leaving the Weyr mostly useless.
But the pain, L'ronmine, will be absent. Even if he killed every last one of you defenseless piles of flesh, we would simply between. It's hardly effective for scaring someone. Which meant, of course, L'ron couldn't be scared. That would tip Fortith off. He never needed to show weakness to Fortith. He looked as others began coming in, his heartbeat rising. Okay, so maybe he was afraid.
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Ellanisk had been awake the moment unfamiliar footsteps walked through the halls of the apartments. The wher, unlike her usual bubbly self, had scared Ellanie half to death by screeching when she couldn't get awake. People were here with harsh voices and loud stomps. They were yelling, and Ellanisk did not like it one bit.
When someone began rushing her from her apartment, seperating her from an awake and unhappy Ellanisk, Ellanie had put her foot down. People were good, they were, deep down. Whoever this was would have to understand that she needed a moment to calm Ellanisk or they would have to face the wrath of a rather large and, as of the moment, cranky girl.
Ellanisk refused to be left. Worry was all the girl could feel from her wher, worry that she'd not have anyone to play with her. Ellanie couldn't take her out in the sun. The green wher darted off for a moment, returning with her playrag. It was thick enough that light couldn't escape through it, but thin enough to be tied. With the person rushing her, Ellanie quickly blindfolded her wher before picking her up.
The Hatching Grounds were a sight she had never beheld, and, at the moment, they made her almost sick. Ellanisk drew pictures from her mind, hissing quietly. Even though Ellanie was trying to remain positive, the wher was not happy. Through Ellanie's eyes, Ellanisk spotted Swithin and she directed her to him. The girl followed him into the shadows. "Swithin?" She managed to speak, looking at both him and Swisk, grateful that she wasn't the only one here with a companion. "Is everything going to be okay?" She sounded like a child, for, truth be told, nothing had ever been this rushed or confusing in her life since the night her mother died, and she couldn't bring herself to look towards the sands. She would rather remain confused than face the reality of what was happening.
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Breeze had vanished a few days ago, and, while this normally didn't bother him, Oraru couldn't help but miss the small annoyance. He was being told to go to the Hatching Grounds, that there was something to see there and that he had to go now. He was being bullied and it almost made him cry. He wanted his mother, Breeze, father, brother, Orask...
Speaking of the grumpy wher, he was nearby, proudly standing while his 'handler nearly broke down in front of someone bossy. The wher was tempted to take everything into his own claws, but he made no move to fetch a cloth or anything with which to help the boy. It was Oraru's own insecurity that made him scramble through the apartment, fashioning a leash and blindfold quickly. He didn't like being bullied...
Orask fussed when he was leashed like a dog, but when the man at the door told Oraru to hurry up now, the wher allowed himself to be leashed and blinded. Oh, his vengence would be great. No one, NO ONE made him try to rush. The bronze left his apartment blind, but perfectly content. The blue firelizard winked from between above him, giving the wher directions, almost dragging Oraru to the Hatching Grounds.
Frightened, Oraru found a place in the crowd, desperately searching for Swithin to no avail. He wanted safety, and, since mother wasn't here, he was convinced he could find it in his other family member.
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Post by irbre on Apr 20, 2008 1:12:43 GMT -5
It didn't take a fool to realize that there was something wrong, even if T'nmor was slow to act. All decisions required time and careful planning, as well as the reservation to act correctly and without attachment. Well, all very important decisions, at least. This was different, though. It was personal. This involved Jedirth, who was a part of him, integral and unending. It also involved every other dragon in the Weyr, though T'nmor was a good deal less aware of that. He was concerned for Jedirth, for although the bronze dragon was not normally very active, this bordered on lethargic.
The languid attitude that had so affected Jedirth seemed infectious, though only on a mental scale. Already slow to act, T'nmor was downright indecisive these days. Today, though, seemed different. There was a distinct feeling of unease in the Weyr, from where T'nmor could not say. It was merely...there. The Weyrling shifted, rising to his feet, hearing a faint commotion outside. What was going on? He cast a quick glance at Jedirth. For once the bronze as not sleeping, though he was close to it. A crack of multi-faceted eye showed through his bronze lids, the normally bright colors dull and slow, though something like yellow and red darted behind the mix. T'nmor frowned, approaching the dragon to kneel at his side, patting the warm metallic neck. There was a flicker of unspoken emotion between the two and Jedirth closed his eyes, wings rustling softly, sides heaving in a gentle sigh.
Go, Mine. I will be fine, of course, the bronze said slowly while T'nmor listened patiently. You must be watchful, though, he added, something stirring beneath his voice. His tail twitched languidly and his eyes opened wider. Be very careful and protect those who cannot protect themselves. It was hardly a speech that T'nmor had never heard before, but it seemed horribly vital at the current moment. T'nmor stood swiftly, heart suddenly hammering in his chest. Jedirth had closed his eyes once more, but T'nmor knew he wasn't asleep, or at least fully asleep. If there was something wrong within the Weyr, Jedirth would never be far away.
Quickly and quietly, T'nmor moved out into the hall, jogging slowly. The pace of his breath increased the closer to the Sands he got, for there was now a steady stream of people, mainly Weyrfolk. What was going on? A frown creased his face, worry and anxiety bubbling unbidden in his stomach. This day was horribly wrong, he just knew it. But what could be happening? In innocent passing, T'nmor heard a single word that stopped him cold, his hurried steps faltering. Benden.
T'nmor cursed silently, began to move forward, and cursed some more. Sharding Benden. What did they want now? Why could they not be left alone? It seemed as if T'nmor had just escaped them, even though he knew it had been long ago. Cold fear shivered his limbs and produced a thin sheen of sweat on his brow, which he hurriedly wiped away. Benden was the beginning of all their problems, it seemed. And now they were here? T'nmor hastily forced his worries from his mind, mostly unsuccessful, though he managed to clear his head somewhat. He knew that he would need a clear head for what was to come.
He entered the Sands behind a pair of drudges, slipping silently through the crowd, murmuring hurried remarks, though these were lost among the high whisper of the crowd. He finally made his way to the front, eyes widening and narrowing, uncharacteristic anger shaking his lanky form. Yes, it was Benden, and there were bronzeriders here. Maybe the one who had killed his mother, though T'nmor didn't particularly care to dwell on that thought. His gaze flicked over to what they were doing. Piling wood and...oil? He drew in a sharp hiss of breath, clenching his fist at his side, suddenly aware of that there was no one before him, only behind him. He took a step back, feeling the press of the throng behind him, anxious and nervous. His eyes widened in sudden surprise and a fresh surge of fear when he saw the writhing, clearly weakened and injured form of their Weyrwoman. The slimy bastards, the sharding fools! It was Benden, all of it, down to the last drop!
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Neisk was uncomfortable. Neirin knew that Neisk was often uncomfortable, but more in the physical sense, for she believed that she deserved only the best, a pride Neirin had sadly indulged her in. This was different, though. It was not Neirin who had gone looking for the golden wher, for Neisk often went to comfort the young Weyrbrats and sleep with them during the early dusk, but Neisk who had come looking for her handler. That was warning enough, if any.
The wher shifted impatiently, her eyes bright and whirling with yellow. It was not the gold of her pride and vanity, but the vivid yellow of fear and anxiety, shot through with pale orange and the occasional burst of red. Neirin sat up immediately, her furs cast aside in a flurry, falling to the floor in a crumpled heap of abandoned warmth and comfort. Loud voices echoed outside, and though she was the only one in this section of the wherhandler apartments, there were still people there. That was enough to make her on edge, and Neisk's obvious anxiety did little to calm her.
The wher butted her antiqued gold head against Neirin, urging her to get up, which she did. Obeying silently and swiftly, Neirin pulled on her garments and took a quick stock of the situation. Neisk would not allow her to go alone, she knew, so she would have to make allowances. Reaching over, Neirin fumbled through a bundle of clothe for a moment before pulling a long strip out, turning towards Neisk. They had attempted this maneuver before. It was simple enough, and allowed Neisk to see vaguely without blinding her completely. It protected from the sun, and that was all that mattered. Still, it had taken them quite awhile, and some painful testing for Neisk (and Neirin, when the gold wher became angry) until they had found the perfect type of clothe. The weave was neither too tight nor too loose and was perfect for such an occasion.
Neirin quickly tied the strip over Neisk's eyes, the wher looking slightly ridiculous, as though she were some ill patient. Neirin placed her hand on Neisk's neck, guiding her easily towards the door. For once the wher Queen followed willingly, her tail thrashing behind her as they began to move hastily down the halls, hearing snippets of information the way along. Everything appeared to be happening at the Hatching Sands, a place which Neirin had never visited but knew the location of. She heard the word Benden and various other names, none of which boded well. It was not going to be a pleasant and relaxing day after all, Neirin thought with a slight sigh.
It took them a fair while to reach the Sands, Neisk carefully guided by Neirin so that no one bumped the little Queen on accident too often. A good many people were already present, moving back and forth, the soft hush of whispers filling the cavern. Neisk suddenly began to pull away from Neirin and the girl was forced to lurch to the side to keep a hand on her as the wher padded towards something she obviously considered important. Golden nostrils flaring, Neisk had caught the scent of one of her brothers, Orask, and was moving towards him, pushing people aside without a second thought as Neirin was practically dragged along behind.
The gold wher came to an abrupt stop near Orask, head tilting, letting out a soft croon of questioning. She knew little of what was happening, as did her handler, who was slow as always. Neirin appeared a few seconds later, gray-green eyes narrowed to slits, distinctly ruffled. Like Neisk, she had only the vaguest of ideas of what was happening, and knew that nothing good would come of this day. "What's going on?" She projected the question at Oraru, recognizing the boy, using a tone that was slightly sharper than necessary. So many people and the tension in the air made her more uneasy than usual, and she disliked the fact that she had had to bring Neisk here, possibly exposing the wher to danger.
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Post by marissa on Apr 20, 2008 13:56:08 GMT -5
Why is Ermieth acting so strangely? A’noan ran a hand over his bronze’s flank, eyes narrowing as he took in the large dragon. A sigh escaped through his lips – apparently, the dragons in his wings were acting the same. But Ermieth was supposed to be above this – they were better than the others in the Wing, after all. What was going on, that it was so powerful that it was affecting even his great Ermieth?
The bronze rider looked over the ledge, turning his gaze to the sky. He expected to see a shade of light blue, perhaps with a bit of cloud-cover… after all, it had gotten a bit shadowy, just a few minutes ago, when A’noan had first come out to sit with Ermieth. However, he did not see any more than a few patches here or there or blue. And it wasn’t clouds that were making the shadows… it was dragons.
Strange dragons – what were they doing here, who were they? Of course they weren’t Selenitas dragons… it didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. But… if they weren’t Selenitas dragons, who were they?
Wait… was that Morsrath? A’noan couldn’t be sure – he had only seen the dragon a handful of times, once or twice only through Ermieth’s eyes. But… yes, that was Morsrath, it was unmistakable. What were Benden dragons doing in the Selenitas Skies?
The order came, and A’noan was about to simply not go – who was C’leon to order him, Bronze Rider A’noan, around to the Hatching Ground – when it hit him. Well, not literally, but mentally. These people had drugged his precious, wonderful, absolutely stunning Ermieth. And they were going to pay.
Patting the bronze reassuringly, A’noan marched down to the Hatching Grounds in a matter of minutes, taking a place at the front of the crowd that gathered there. How dare they?! Choosing to stay quiet for a moment, so that the Benden Riders could explain why they drugged the dragons, A’noan shut his mouth and crossed his hands in front of him. He would hurt whoever had ordered the drugging… even if it meant degrading himself to actually punch C’leon. He would do it, t—
Was that Shmee on the Hatching Ground, groveling around? Yes, it was… a very pregnant, ill, starved Shmee, but Shmee nonetheless. Stupid woman, to get herself kidnapped by these disgusting Benden riders. But, still, this gave A’noan even more reason to knock C’leon out.
[woot! Totaly out of it! XD]
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Post by neeuqtar on Apr 20, 2008 16:07:49 GMT -5
Adith, what's going on? Uu'n demanded of his dragon. The usually withdrawn and quiet blue had become rather, well, loopy over the past sevenday, and it was really worrying the weyrling. Having his lifemate's personality shift so suddenly was not comforting to him. You need to go to the Hatching Grounds, the dragon informed him muzzily, half-asleep and very torpid. They say so. Who says so? he demanded, ice trickling down his spine. The pretty voices sing me a song, Adith replied goofily, before twitching and falling back asleep.
Uu'n ground his teeth impotently, and armed up. He trusted no one and nothing, not since the attack on the weyrlings, and especially not mysterious summonings. Dirk and dagger were in easy reach, and a "found" (aka purloined) boot-knife was tucked securely into his riding boots. Shrugging on a heavy leather vest, darkstained, the weyrling sighed. It was going to be hideously hot on the Hatching Sands in the gear, but the leather would help turn a knife. And with the close calls he'd had against M'rgon, well, he wasn't about to leave anything to chance.
With a growl, Uu'n slipped past his furway, casting a worried glance to Dael, who had been sleeping off and on for almost three days now, hardly taking time to eat. It was most worrisome... He entered the Hatching Grounds with a few others, hearing whispers of Benden. That... was not good. At least he was prepared. But why had the wherlings brought their whers with them? In a battle the creatures would only be used against them. Uu'n gritted his teeth together and fought his way to the front of the crowd, where he stood, arms crossed, glaring at C'leon and Mosrath. This was a bad position to be in...
Rath, tell R'non to bring the young queen's rider to C'leon, Mosrath demanded coldly. Turns of training held fast. That voice was to be obeyed above every other order, even to death and to the darkest of betrayals. But His liked Millieth's, wouldn't give a woman he saw as a daughter-child to Mosrath's. And that would not do, for Mosrath was to be obeyed. The bronze flexed his talons, and snarled silently. Why did His make obedience so difficult?! Mine, something strange is going on in the Hatching Grounds... Unspoken was the subtle push to bring Millieth's, to go there now. It was something he had been trained to do, to manipulate the human rider when necessary, and he did it without thought. It was Mosrath's orders.
Something strange? R'non thought to himself, getting up and going to the Weyrwoman's office to see if Kaegan was there. If something strange was going on, the Weyrwoman would probably be needed to keep it under control. The Weyr did not trust him, and with good reason. Even he didn't know how strong the conditioning of Benden bronzes was, and he rode one. Could you ask Millieth where Hers is? R'non sent to his dragon, jogging towards the offices. Of course, the dragon replied with a pang of relief. He hadn't been sure his ploy would work. Millieth, Mine is wondering where Yours is?
Alone among the dragons was Rath. Unlike the rest, he had not drunk from the drugged waters, for the very good reason that he had known exactly where and when the drug had been released into the water, and gone far elsewhere to drink. And so the bronze was fully effective mentally, though he had feigned the torpor of the drugged dragons, even to His Own. It could prove disastrous for R'non... "Hey, Kaegan! Kaegan, something's going on in the Hatching Grounds!"
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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 Apr 20, 2008 19:56:36 GMT -5
Sitting in the silence of her office had served to calm her nerves from the tantrum she had thrown, which unfortunately caused a mark in damage and a black eyed drudge. She had been immediately sorry for punching the poor boy and had personally taken him to the infirmary. Afterward she had fled back to her office and buried herself in the growing amount of paperwork that she was forced to take control of. Hours had flown by without much disturbance, save for the occasional drudge who brought her willowbark tea and sweets. But as the time to change the candles came, Kaegan took a moment to stretch her back and smarting hands, she hadn't written so much since... back then. Shaking the feeling that began to creep up her spine, the young Weyrwoman began to reflect on what had happened ever since Shmee had been kidnapped. Being in charge hadn't been that bad, except for the millions of trips around the weyr that she was forced to take to settle small feuds that had erupted, she could only guess their emotions were shaken because of their missing Weyrwoman. Uncertainty had nested its self in everyone's mind, from the Weyrleaders all the way down to the weyrbrats, it was like a small pandemic. People truly did care for their Weyrwoman, even if she tended to be a little... weird sometimes.
"Oh well. I know I should take a break, but I need to get these done." Stroking her flitter's hide as he made a worried croon, Kaegan jumped about three feet in the air as someone burst into her office. Looking up as the light from the hallway outside filtered in, it took a few moments for her eyes to adjust before the Queenrider could identify the person.
"Hey, Kaegan! Kaegan, somethings going on in the Hatching Grounds!"
Rubbing her eyes as the Junior Weyrleader spoke, Kaegan pushed the chair she was sitting on back before standing. "Something is going on?" No Dragon, Flitter, or Wher was currently residing on the sands, so what ever was going on had to be unusual. Although it was probably just another fight that had started somewhere outside of the hatching ground, and the redhead was getting quite tired of breaking these up. Sighing, the Queenrider maneuvered her way around the desk and out past R'non, she supposed it was a good enough reason to take a break. "Come on then R'non... I might need your help if its a fight." Cradling Azaran in her arms, Kaegan quickly made her way to the Hatching Arena, and unknowingly into the trap that had been lain...
(I'll post my others in a second. :3 )
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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 Apr 20, 2008 21:05:25 GMT -5
Rubbing his fist slightly as the pain warmed his hand, F'rah snarled as he slammed his boot heel down on the man's hand causing his assailant to howl in pain before blacking out for the moment. Leaping over to his Junior Weyrlings, the Brownrider let a string of curses erupt from his mouth as he was tackled to the ground. How stupid he was! How stupid of him not to warn his Weyrleader's to the strange actions of the dragons! Now he was paying for it with the attack on the Weyr and HIS weyrlings. Elbowing the man in the gut, the Weyrlingmaster leapt to his feet only to reserve a hit to the back of his head. Crashing to his knee's, F'rah's vision swam in and out of focus as he was levered into a standing position. "Run... run!" Voice cracking with raw emotions, the young teacher slowly began to try and struggle out of the grasps of the assailants. It was of no use, F'rah might be one of the strongest, but with a bump on the back of his head and against three others around his size... it was a doomed battle. Wrenching himself free of the men with a stumble, the Weyrlingmaster turned to face his students with a glazed expression, one made from a mix of anger, worry and hatred. He knew he could do no more as the fourth man rose from his unwilling doze on the floor, forcing F'rah to change his tactics. For the temporary safety of his students they had to comply. "Children..." Dipping slightly as the pain bloomed in his head once more, the Weyrlingmaster was glad for the help that came from two of his students as they rushed forward to support him. "... we must go quietly. I do not want these... men to cause anymore trouble." While his words rang out in the silent halls, his slowly moving hand contradicted them, telling the oldest of his weyrlings to run and hide if they had the chance. Watching as Gina nodded slightly before speaking in a whisper to the Weyrling next to her, he spoke once again to cover the quiet whispering that was slowing being passed around. "Do nothing to provoke them, do what they say..." Feeling the grip of a hand on his shoulder, F'rah snarled and slid the hand off violently. "Precious Weyrlings pair with one or to Tropicals." Turning to face the men, F'rah radiated pure hatred toward them, like a storm just waiting to break free. It took only a few short moments of shoving to get F'rah and most of the more compliant weyrlings to the door of the hatching grounds.
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Post by Administrator on Apr 20, 2008 21:44:42 GMT -5
C'leon smiled coldly as the familiar figure of Kaegan emerged onto the Hatching Ground. He snapped his fingers, and instantly, two of his bronzers grabbed Kaegan on each arm. "Bind the insolent brat," he commanded easily. Two more men came, and began winding rope tightly around her. "Well, Kaegan," he said coldly, approaching her. His hard eyes met hers squarely, and would be enough to make even a full -grown man cower in fear. Then, without warning, he slapped her hard across her face. "You run away from us to live with this scum?" he growled, and spat in her face. "You are a disgrace to dragonriders." Seeing the Hatching Ground quickly fill up with people, he smirked. Public humiliation and execution looked perfect on the menu. How he wished that S'rei would also be served, but he had not a clue where he was. No matter-- if he wasn't dead now, he would be if he ever showed his face again at his Weyrs. Bending down to Shmee, he grabbed her by her shirt-collar, pulling her up. She grunted, writhing weakly, her eyes still squeezed shut.
"Well, Selenitas Weyr," he called out harshly, his chilling voice reverberating through the Hatching Ground. "You are finally under our protection. This Weyr was falling to pieces, and it is only under our good grace that you guys will continue to thrive!" Shmee's struggling became weaker, and she let out a dry sob, her head falling forward onto her chest. C'leon smirked, pleased that this stupid woman was under his control at last. "See? This is what has been leading you these past turns!" he screamed at the crowd, throwing the pregnant woman onto the blistering sands. Her sobs continued, free of wet tears, yet full of heartache. C'leon's eyes turned to Kaegan.
"Now you see this spineless girl!" he hollered, grabbing Kaegan by the shirt, pulling her toward him. "She ran away from us, expecting wonderful little Selenitas would save her. But she forgets that Benden will always get their toys back." He grabbed her hair, and kicked her bound legs from under her feet. She now dangled from his grip of her hair, doubtlessly painful, when he, too, threw her to the ground. Then, brutally, he kicked her in the stomach. "Is wonderful little Selenitas saving you now, poppit?" he screamed at her, kicking her again and again. Shmee, unable to look at Kaegan, looked up into the Stands, her blue eyes pleading with the crowd to help.
"We're done, Weyrleader," one of the men announced from the giant woodpile. C'leon's nasty smile grew.
"Well, now I will finally ease matters. I will situate one of our own queen's here at Selenitas. Your new Weyrwoman Pesmora will be official within the week; we are inducing an early Flight on her dragon. I will catch her dragon. From now on, this Weyr will be under my firm control. I will check in personally each sevenday to make sure things are running smoothly. Ex-Weyrleader S'rei is a fugitive. He is wanted alive, to be brought to me the moment he is captured. Weyrsecond R'non will be acting Weyrleader here," his eyes flickered, looking for the man. "He has been a most helpful ally, and for this reason, we are giving him second control of Selenitas, double salary, and first pick of the women." He nodded firmly. R'non had been most helpful...
Kicking Kaegan onto her back, he looked down at her with that crazed smile on his face. "Bring the oil!" he announced loudly. Immediately, one man brought over a canteen full. Casually, he began dripping it onto Kaegan's body. "To make sure that people here understand what happens when you mess with us, we are going to leave you all with a warning," he told them, proceeding onto Shmee. Pouring the contents onto her, Shmee's eyes located K'nam desperately. She remembered he was a bronzerider. He could help... "Weyrwomen Shmee and Kaegan are sentenced to death at this moment, for treason against Benden and cowardice," he shouted. "They are to be burned alive. Anyone who does not watch will join them."
With that, he seized up Kaegan, throwing her onto the pile of wood. Two men were needed to do the same with a now frantically struggling, pregnant Shmee. She landed inches from Kaegan, and she immediately grabbed Kaegan.
"Rei loves me after all," she whispered to Kaegan, her eyes finally filling with tears. "He... he gave me a note... and now... I can never see him again..." Sobbing as she clutched Kaegan, C'leon smiled, lifting a torch that was procured from one of his men. "Rot in between!" he yelled, and threw the torch at the oil-covered pile of wood-- with Shmee and Kaegan on top. It erupted into flames, with the flames spreading quickly towards the pair...
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Post by randi on Apr 20, 2008 22:04:46 GMT -5
K'nam watched helplessly as Kaegan entered, like a lamb to the slaughter. She had no idea what was going on. Two riders grabbed her, holding her as C'leon dared to slap her before hoisting Shmee before throwing her down again. The bronzerider's voice filled his ears, hateful, causing his headache to spread.
Next C'leon moved to Kaegan and K'nam's heard stopped. His breathing became labored as he kicked her, treated her like dirt, treated her the way the sharding bronzerider deserved to be treated. As C'leon announced R'non's implication, heat shot through K'nam's heart. Their own junior weyrleader... Shardit! As the oil poured over Kaegan, it became only too aparent that something had to be done, by him if nothing else. He shouldered his way through shocked weyrfolk to the front lines, only to find himself meeting Shmee's eyes.
This was it. For a moment his heart stopped, his body moving through air that felt constricting, as if pushing him back to convince him that he didn't want to do this. One single bronzerider couldn't take on the vile C'leon all on his lonesome. The thought struck him the moment his booted feet hit the sands, his dark eyes staring solemnly at the adversaries before him.
He was out of his sharding mind. In a voice that resounded through the Hatching Grounds, K'nam shouted, his heart leaping to life, the beat catching throughout his body. He knew that the masses didn't need explanation. There was no time, "For Selenitas!"
Even as he shouted, he was sure he heard people stirring behind him, he found himself running, not towards C'leon, the hateful little tunnelsnake of a coward, but towards the pyre, his intentions clear before he even leapt towards the flames, his heartbeat frantically racing, the fire shooting through him in a combination of rage and adrenaline hotter than any that had ever been sustained by any fuel on the face of Pern.
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Post by irbre on Apr 20, 2008 22:41:46 GMT -5
Rage stirred within T'nmor as he saw the trap, moments too late. Their Weyrwomen were the targets, injured and weakened Shmee on the Sands already and the newly arrived Kaegan. C'leon obviously bore a grudge to her, for he hardly treated her as anyone should have been treated. Eyes narrowed to dark slits, T'nmor's hands clenched at his side. He ached to do something, and yet he was only one person, and they were quite a few more than one and stronger than T'nmor. T'nmor could do nothing for the moment but watch as C'leon physically abused his charges, putting on a horrible parody of a show for the Weyr that was present.
He spoke finally in a voice that T'nmor found himself hating passionately, a voice that T'nmor wished he would never hear again. They were under Benden's protection? T'nmor drew in a hiss of breath, attempting to clear himself of any outward emotion and failing. This was just...horrible. He watched, gaze flicking between the continuing abuse of Kaegan and Shmee and the growing woodpile. Everyone knew what it was for by now, even the stupidest of people had to come to the correct realization. And sure enough, after C'leon had finished with a powerful kick to Kaegan's belly, T'nmor wincing apologetically, he announced his intentions for the whole Weyr to hear. A public execution, burning both women on the pyre that would adorn their Hatching Sands, a place that was supposed to represent life and joy. But that wasn't all. They would be given a new Weyrwoman, loyal only to Benden, and their Junior Weyrleader would remain. Not only that, but R'non would have his pick of the women as if they were items, increased pay, and a leadership position that no one would agree with, but if this finished in the horrible way Benden intended, would be forced to submit to.
The moment arrived with jolting reality as C'leon and his minions turned to the pyre, offering the women up like sacrifices to some underworldly god. The oil-soaked pair were thrown up without care and a glimmer of flame lit the Hatching Sands, soft for only a second before the fire ignited with the oil, a raging inferno leaping upward. Even from his distance T'nmor could see their faces, strangely stark against the coiling flames. A call rang from next to him and he paused, wondering if he had heard the words correctly for a second, but it took him only one second more to act and he was racing forward after K'nam, feet kicking a spray of sand behind him, his heart in his throat. He ignored C'leon. Let someone more powerful take care of that heartless bastard. Right now his sights were set intently on the rising column of flame and the man who was already near the top before him.
If was much hotter when T'nmor got closer and he cringed away for a moment before reigning his fears, keeping himself under control. The immense heat and light made his eyes water and he was forced to squint when he looked up at the barely discernible pair on top and the larger silhouette of K'nam. The flames had already gone too high for him to attempt to climb up himself, for he would merely be leaping into a wall of flames if he attempted to jump with a running start. All he could do was stand below and wait to assist as the fire grew hotter and brighter, peering up, panic wringing his heart with an iron grip.
"Throw one of them down!" he called up to K'nam, remembering Jedirth's words. "I swear I'll catch them!" Although he was hardly the strongest of the Weyr residents, he was more than capable of handling the weight of one fully grown woman, child or none. He braced himself mentally and physically, his whole body tight with fear and anxiety, but for the women and K'nam, not himself. They were the ones atop the burning pyre, not he, and he was well aware of that. Desperation in his eyes, all T'nmor could do was stare up and prepare to catch whichever woman was thrown down to him, oblivious to whatever was happening behind him.
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Post by ravenmane on Apr 20, 2008 22:53:19 GMT -5
Staring blankly at the parchment before him, Bronzerider P’nor pondered about recent events. Most important was the way Cyanth was acting. The usually friendly and determined Bronze was aloof, willy-nilly, and dim-witted. When Squee had decided to pester the much larger creature, Cyanth had not been able to avoid the salamandyr’s sharp claws. It seemed that the Bronze’s quick reflexives had been dulled like a sharp knife that had been neglected, but P’nor took extra care when it came to his life-mate. As the Bronzerider mulled over his dragon’s odd behavior, an aloof voice echoed in his head. /Something is wrong at the Hatching Sands. You should go check it out, Mine./ P’nor jumped to his feet as soon as Cyanth said something was wrong. Racing out the door of the Record’s Room, P’nor desperately hoped the ‘Something is wrong’ did not associate with Benden.
P’nor arrived on the Sands just as C’leon started beating Kaegan. Fury made the man’s blood boil as he watched the deranged Bendenite harm Selenitas’s Junior Weyrwoman. A flitter and salamandyr, both beautiful hues of blue, perched on the man’s shoulders and hissed at the Bendenites. Pushing past other Weyrfolk, P’nor made his way to the front of the group the moment Kaegan and Shmee were tossed onto the Pyre. Righteous rage overcame the man, and mere milliseconds after K’nam cried out, P’nor also shouted. Leaving his fellow Bronzerider to save the Queenriders, P’nor headed for the source of the problem. C’leon. Two of the man’s followers tried to stop him, but P’nor’s fury made them falter. To not waste time, P’nor grabbed their heads and whacked them together. Both of the pathetic unworthy riders collapsed onto the Sands. Storming past their unconscious bodies, P’nor pulled back his fist and slammed it with all his might into the deranged face of C’leon. ”That is for Shmee and Kaegan, you bloody bastard!!”
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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 Apr 20, 2008 23:51:04 GMT -5
The guards outside the door should have warned her, she should have ran, but her head was somewhere else. As Kaegan entered the brightly lit hatching Grounds, time seemed to slow as her eyes settled on the center figure. Memories and dreams slammed her mind as if a dam had broken loose, and as the two men grabbed her arms, a desperate scream left her body. "Nonononono." Struggling against the grasp of her captor's hands, Kaegan tossed her body around with all of her strength, she knew that it wasn't a dream. Shrieking in terror as she was dragged along, the young Weyrwoman only stopped when C'leon slapped her across the face. Whimpering as she let her head roll forward, the Queenrider nearly vibrated with fear, not noticing the ropes that cut savagely into her wrists and arms. Slowly lifting her head, Kaegan withdrew into herself as C'leon moved to the woman on the ground. So it had been Benden who captured Shmee, it slowly registered that the evil Weyr had been behind the odd behavior of her Millieth as well.
Aware of C'leon's eyes turning back to her, Kaegan fought feebly against his iron grip as he pulled her toward him. Each word he spoke was like a physical blow, each word caused the young woman to fall farther and farther back into the subservient slave that had been forced unto her. Falling as the Benden Weyrleader kicked her legs out from underneath her, Kaegan let out a strangled cry as pain erupted from her scalp's nerve endings. Curling into a ball as she was thrown on the floor, the girl took a few milliseconds of reprieve before the kick landed. Whining slightly, Kaegan relaxed her body to absorb the rest of the kicks, her stay at Benden has taught her a limp body fared better than a tense one. He was right of course, she was spineless... and she had come to Selenitas hopping that they could save her from Benden. Her self destructive thought were vaguely interrupted as C'leon appointed R'non as the new weyrleader of Selenitas. Her eyes focused on the Bronzerider who had entered only a few moments after her, and although her Green eyes were glazed, the hurt and pain behind them were as clear as day.
Groaning as she was kicked hard enough to flip onto her back, Kaegan's world took on a tinge of Grey and the sharp edges began to grow fuzzy. Not flinching as the oil was drizzled over her body, the Queenrider allowed only her eyes to move, and person by person she quietly locked gazes with her closest friends. Brave F'rah. Cunning Saraina. Firm Gina... Dear K'nam. Images of the times she spent with these people flashed before her eyes as she watched their pained faces contort in disgust, and she knew they could understand what her gaze held. Switching her gaze to the others she had met, helped and even played with, Kaegan's tears finally let themselves loose. Feeling herself being picked up, the young Queenrider limply let her body crash into the pyre of wood. The end was now. And as she closed her eyes to let the end come, Kaegan was unwillingly drawn back into the real world by the second woman to join her in the Fire pyre. Shmee. The woman who had so willingly took her into Selenitas, knowing full well that the Weyr would very well be in trouble because of it. Cooing slightly, Kaegan wrapped her arms around the older girl for a moment, a small whisper followed a few moments later. "If your love is true, anything can happen."
Slowly getting into a kneeling position, the young Weyrwoman mustered up enough of the broken remains of what she had healed to shout above the slowly roaring flame, addressing Selenitas and C'leon at the same time. "I. Die. Free!" Raising her arm into the air, Kaegan continued to speak (with a loud roar from her distant Queen to back her words) before weakly dropping down again, the pain proving to be far to much. "Selenitas be one!" Half falling, half fainting back onto the pyre, Kaegan coughed up some blood before watching K'nam vault onto the sands. "K'na... amm."
(my other characters will follow in a moment)
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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 Apr 21, 2008 0:34:36 GMT -5
Watching the brutality of the Benden Weyrleader proved to be an effective emotional drain on the brothers, and with each show of raw evil, they began to look through the crowd in the stands. F'rah nudged F'con quietly and raised an eyebrow toward one of the selenitas Bronzeriders, and although the Weyrlingmaster had different ideal's than his brother, both of them harbored a distinct hate for C'leon. Clenching a fist full of fabric in his hand, F'rah watched Kaegan and Shmee being tossed around like nothing more than sacs. But when the Weyrwomen where tossed upon the pyre the brothers could stand no more, bound by different ties, they stood to their full heights. It took no more than a few moments of time to follow K'nam's route out of the stands and onto the sands, effectively barring a few Bronzerider's from getting to the Pyre to stop K'nam.
"Oh, Brother. I do believe these men want to get to them." /I am... with... you./
"Quite true F'con. Lets show them the shortest way to their true destination." /Fight little Brother.../
Standing side by side, the two warring brothers shook off their hostility toward one another and turned it against the men they were stopping. Growling like a bear, for if anything he looked like one, the Weyrlingmaster swung at the first of their opponents. It wasn't long after that the Bluerider weaved his way into the tussle, dagger glinting dimly in his hand, it was a wonderful thing that he kept his boot knife with him. Unlike his younger brother, the believed ex-Fort rider preferred close range weapon combat to hand-to-hand, much more messy but much more lethal.
--
Keeping the youngest Weyrlings in a group, Gina and Saraina forced themselves to work through the intense fear that had gripped their souls. They knew that all of the Weyrlings were the next generation of Dragonriders, and there for would probably be the next in the pecking order if the crazed man decided to turn his sights on more people to kill. Neither of the oldest of the senior weyrlings could even bare to watch what was going on, and began to arrange the others into positions that could at least stand the smallest chance of surviving an attack. Everyone who could wield a weapon or preform hand-to-hand combat were asked to be on the outside of their group, while the others had been asked to reside within. Although whether or not anyone listened to the girls were their own choice entirely, but Saraina personally began promising horrible things if they didn't.
/Saramine... / No. No, stay were you are. I don't want them to find you... hide in the place we found. This isn't a suggestion. /Saraina.../
/Gina... mine./ Dasmonth! My precious one, please stay hidden. My love cannot protect you if you stray... do not worry. The adults will take care of us.
Neither of the girls decided to add the atrocities happening on the sands in their words, they would rather not upset their lifebonds anymore than they already were. And no matter how much they wished to join the men on the sands, the two Weyrlings knew their place was with the others.
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Post by Administrator on Apr 21, 2008 8:39:26 GMT -5
((*cough* Don't forget all dragons (except Rath) are drugged, guys. Meaning they probably don't understand what is going on >>))
Shmee coughed, clutching Kaegan desperately. It was so hot, so hot... She truly was going to die this time. Overwhelmed by fear and heat as the flames quickly shot towards them, one hand slipped to her wide belly. Her beautiful babe. When she had been kept in isolation, her babe was what saved her sanity. It comforted her with its kicks, encouraged her with its movements... And now, it was going to die with her. This beautiful little piece of her and S'rei was going to die before ever seeing the light of day. She clung to Kaegan, closing her eyes as she felt the injured girl move and shout her triumph. Shmee didn't have enough pride or dignity to try and do that. The past couple of months had destroyed her. Pregnant and alone, taunted and abused... It had frightened her at first; after realizing she had gone between, she thought her babe had been dead for the longest time. Until a small kick from inside her belly saved her. She once had been so angry with S'rei, yet he had wanted her to come home. He had told her so in that note. Well, she was home again...
She wiped her sweaty brow, and held onto Kaegan. They were both bleeding from where the wood in the pyre had scraped them, and Kaegan was injured from her beating. Shmee's face was beginning to look feverishly red from the heat, but she still rubbed Kaegan's back vainly as she spoke. Flames surrounded them. She trembled, awaiting for her imminent death, and she wondered what it would be like to die. There would be the pain as she burned... but then would it be a release when she went into the cold of between forever? Would Aslath be there? Would S'rei? Flames licked her feet, and she kicked them and drew them closer to her round body. It was hellishly hot. She didn't notice K'nam coming towards them...
C'leon shouted angrily as people began leaping forward. Though Shmee and Kaegan were taken care of, everyone seemed bent on attacking him. This, he had not counted on. Selenitas was spineless, and should have sunken in easily into is plan. The Weyrwomen were as good as dead, and he was the most intimidating man on Pern. Why people weren't bowing down to him right away was simply beyond him. "Kill them all!" C'leon screamed at his men, who were definitely outnumbered. However, C'leon would rely on their strength. Selenitas riders were weaklings. They could handle it...
Growling as P'nor knocked the heads of two of his men together, he managed to prepare. This man was a fool. Did he not realize who he was fighting with? Catching the fist right before it struck his face, he twisted the hand, perhaps with enough force to break it. "You should be lucky I'm letting you live," he hissed at P'nor. He cast the man back, and withdrew his own dagger. He knew that a bronzerider wouldn't give up fighting him, so he might as well prepare. "I will rather cut that hand off of your arm. That will teach you what you get when you try punching your Weyrleader." Leaping at P'nor, C'leon aimed his dagger at P'nor's wrist, all-intent on severing it from his body...
As C'leon tustled with P'nor, one of the Wingleaders, T'nai, came onto F'rah. Taking his own dagger, he stabbed at the man's chest. Trying to knock him backwards onto the sands, he wanted to stab this mere brownrider until he was dead. This is what happened when a brownrider dared raise a hand against bronze!
Another bronzer leapt at F'con, using bare fists to make a punch at the head. This bluerider would turn the color of his dragn once G'mor was done with him. He made a grab at F'con's hair, then yanked on it.
Nobody noticed in all the excitement that T'nmor and K'nam had slipped over to the pyre. They did, however, plan to take down the group of weyrlings that were forming. Two bronzers charged at the growing band, daggers in hand, confident in their ability to knock them all down...
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