Rei
Administrator
Rider Cr'oph Rider Er'ani Rider Elysia Rider/Healer Erilena Wherhandler Sydney Holdbrat Emitre Holdbrat Dileina Weyrbrat Elias Weyrbrat Terilyn
Woooo~ I am a fox!
Posts: 3,021
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Post by Rei on Apr 16, 2009 18:43:53 GMT -5
Malara listened to Jermayan’s small speech with no visible reaction. She stroked Mask’s head and waited as the other’s voiced their opinions. “I can fight. You don’t grow up in Light tower without learning how to wield a knife and Mask has no fear. I will help protect the children.” There was a conviction in her voice that surprised even her. It had to be the children. Malara had a soft spot for the little ones and she would be damned if she let anything happen to them.
As she headed off after Jermayan and the others Mask followed hot on her heels. His would protect the little ones and he would protect her. Thus he would also protect the little ones. He gave a soft growl to Rozsk. It was not a threatening sound. No it was only meant as a gesture of assurance. The blue rarely used anything other than growls to communicate a fact Malara found intriguing. He would help the gold protect theirs from the invaders he would.
Onyx sat in relative silence although the smell of copper in the air made his mouth water. There was so much freshly spilled blood to be had and here he was stuck with his and the dumb wingless rumble dung head. Hungry. Drink. He hissed lowly to his bonded and Malara gave a quick glance at her small grouping. Did anyone else hear him? Yet again no. the words were almost always meant solely for her. “No Onyx stay. You can eat later.” Unsatisfied with that answer the small mandyr snapped at the air and lashed his tail to and fro. Stupid Ugly.
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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 Apr 17, 2009 0:48:55 GMT -5
Whinny pulled up to a stop, struggling to get her breathing back under control after the run that her aging body simply couldn't handle as well as these young people. She was inordinately pleased to note that all of her wherlings were here - not trapped in the barracks or dawdling around aimlessly where they would be easy pickings for any attackers. The woman sniffed mildly at Jermayan's poor attempt at humor - she hoped it was humor, anyway, seeing as how if these wherhandlers couldn't understand a simple broadcasted message they had little hope of being of any real use - and leaned into Whisk. Her phantom wher huffed softly in response to the contact that he so rarely received from her in public. Not particularly sociable, he shifted slightly at the close proximity of the other whers, but otherwise made no further indication of his unease.
Going to evacuate the children? Yes, that was a good idea. If there were more wherhandlers, however, she would have suggested splitting the group and sending out the other half to hunt. No creature could match a wher at night, truly. That was their domain. A full-on attack would be impossible, but they could definitely pick off stragglers with ease. It mildly surprised the older woman that her mind so quickly turned to such matters, though she wasn't a killer and, in fact, Whisk had never once slain a human before the kids this night. But they were both inherently practical creatures. Kill or be killed was a philosophy neither had any trouble grasping.
As the wherhandlers sounded off their respective answers, Whinny's eyes narrowed. Only Cadil and Venus? Jermayan was probably mistaken in saying that only fighters should follow him, which implied those who couldn't fight should go to the infirmary and the barracks. Those locations would be safer than staying out in the open, yes, but that was where the rest of the Weyr would be holed up. Fighting would center around those two places. Nor could she, in good conscience, allow Cadil and Venus, who were decidedly not fighters and whose whers were not nearly so quick to go on the offensive as some of the others, to venture into the dark alone with so many enemies lurking.
Whinny's mind was made up immediately. She waved Jermayan on, only bothering with the motion so he wouldn't be surprised to find she wasn't with them when they got to the Weyr. The Wherlingmaster turned to the two wherlings bent on heading for the infirmary, her eyes flickering over their faces. "Be wary," she told them quietly. "Cadisk and Venusk ken see en the dark, yes, but people ken still hide outta line uh sight. Stick close ta me an Whisk." She took a breath, expelling it slowly, before setting out at a brisk walking pace in the direction of the infirmary.
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Post by weaving on Apr 18, 2009 14:41:45 GMT -5
Soon after he’d started jogging away, Jermayan hopped up onto Jermaysk’s back. There was no need to wear himself out before any of the fighting began and that way he’d be able to stop borrowing the wher’s eyes. The brown was on high alert, carefully surveying the foliage around them to ensure that the path was safe before continuing. There were five of them, not including himself. Hopefully that would be enough to safely protect the children. If the whers were to carry them, that would free up their handlers, but it would also mean that the whers themselves would be unable to fight. Hopefully they’d be able to fit the majority of the kids on the backs of two or three, leaving the others free to fight. At this time of night, the whers were the apex predator. It’d take more than a few attackers to bring one of the creatures down.
First though, they’d need to make sure that the weyr was prepared to evacuate as soon as they got there. Manners could broadcast, but it would mean that everyone, including the enemy would be able to here them, ruining the entire plan. He slowed the brown down to pad along next to Meisk. Meira had Zesa, who would be better suited for this. “Meira, do you think you can get Zesa to find all the children in the weyr and inform them that we’re coming? We need them to be ready to leave as soon as we reach them. I’d have Manners issue out a call, but everyone would be able to here them.” They still needed a place for everyone to gather, he thought, racking his brain. He didn’t know much about the internal layout of the cliffs, and it was showing now.
“We need a meeting place for them. Do you know the weyr layout at all? We could have them meet us out on the riverbank, but if the enemy is already attacking, that only puts them in more danger. It’d probably be best to stay inside and navigate the cliffs internally. Less risk of attack.” He was half musing to himself now, throwing ideas out to the blue wherhandler in the hopes that one of them actually might be a good one. Moving about through the weyr passages had its disadvantages as well. The whers would be cramped, limiting their ability to fight.
Jermaysk stopped suddenly, growling low in his throat. Something was up ahead, something dangerous. With a frown, Jermayan held up one hand, signaling that everyone stop and then turned around to press his finger to his lips. Now was not the time for making noise. As quietly as possible, he pulled his dagger from it’s sheath, gripping the handle tightly. It looked like it was time to see if M’ta’s lessons had paid off.
*~*~*
The small group of benden riders hid in the bushes that lined each side of the path. They’d been sent to search the weyr and kill any who’d been unable to escape to the strongholds, but at the sound of the approaching whers, they’d paused. It’d be best to dispose of them before they became a problem, considering it looked as though they had the same destination. The less they had to worry about, the better.
There were roughly fifteen of them, strung out along the path, and as the whers stopped, they crept closer, preparing to surround the small group. Six whers total, four of which were only wherlings. Knowing Selenitas, they wouldn’t be fighters, which would make this easy, almost too easy. When they didn’t fight back, there was simply no fun in it. Although, there were several women. Perhaps they’d be able to have their way with them later.
*~*~*
Jermaysk pawed at the ground nervously, causing Jermayan to dismount. He’d rather not hinder the brown if it came down to fighting. He kept his back pressed up against the wher’s shoulder, eyeing the edge of the path nervously. His palms were sweaty, making the hilt of the blade difficult to grasp. What was out there?
*~*~*
With all of the riders in place, they moved as one, jumping out from the bushes with blades ready. They came from either side, front and back, surrounding the small group effectively. At the moment, they had only one goal in mind. Take out the whers first. If they were able to disable or even kill the creatures, their handlers would be a piece of cake. All in all, this wouldn’t take more than a few minutes out of their planned attack.
(I’m trusting you guys can play your own attackers?)
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Apr 18, 2009 16:25:29 GMT -5
She couldn't help the exhalation of relief as others began to volunteer, too. Duty-bound to the Weyr, they were, but Meira still didn't like the idea of trying to fight off Benden from getting at the 'brats without at least a few people and whers. The bluehandler managed a small, grateful smile to Roisk and Roivao, still with her arms wrapped tightly around Meisk's neck for reassurance. The blue wher was positively on the verge of bolting: Never had the instinctual fight-or-flight been so strong in her darling little blue. He was leaning towards flight -- and she could feel the anxiety, the blue's desire to bolt, with just His and Zesa. At least they would be safe...but he recognized the thoughts as cowardly, and cringed at Meira's gentle reprimand. As Rilyer decided to part ways with his wher, her hug only tightened, gaze flickering sympathetically to the brownhandler. Oh...ouch. Selfless, it was, that act: She couldn't bear to be parted from Meisk, in a time like this. And they had the goldhandler, and a bluehandler. The three that had chosen to depart didn't know how to fight...but wouldn't the Infirmary be one of the strongholds...?
Meisk took off, a gliding run that matched his ghostly hide, after Jermaysk, and then matched the brown's pace as he deliberately fell back. Jermayan's question drew an affirmative flute from the firelizard herself, who rubbed her head once, affectionately, against Meira's chin and then jumped between, vanishing. "She'll do it," the wherhandler agreed quietly, trying to keep her seat on Meisk. She wanted to move -- it felt so utterly helpless, pressed as she was against Meisk. Her legs tightened around the wher's sides, nervously. As he began to rattle off suggestions, Meira merely listened, trusting Meisk to lope alongside Jermaysk, the blue ocassionally flickering nervous glances towards his brown clutchbrother. His tail flicked, and Meira bit her lip thoughtfully, and then, out loud, began to voice her thoughts:
"Well, we'll need to evacuate the creche. The crechewomen -- they can walk, and the whers can provide transporation for the babies, and the older 'brats can either walk or ride depending on how many there are -- d'you k -- ?"
The brown wher's growl, and Meisk's whine, which followed Jermaysk's noise faster than any echo ever could, made her abruptly stop talking, warily squinting, and then borrowing Meisk's gaze, but the blue saw nothing. Nothing, except the faintest rustle of leaves. Smelled nothing, save for the softest scent of danger. But there was danger. His entire body tensed, quivering, and she could feel the desire to run intensify tenfold. Wide gray eyes shot towards Jermayan, and as he drew his dagger, Meira did the same, rubbing the flat of the blade nervously on her pant leg. Should she get...off of Meisk? It would free up the blue wher to fight without worrying about accidentally making her fall, but at the same time, she was oddly reluctant to leave the warm safety that the wher's hide, rippling under her legs, offered. But...no. It would be too easy for someone to slip a blade under her ribs, like this, especially if she had to focus on clinging to Meisk, too. Slowly sliding down from the wher, she leaned nervously against him, swallowing against the dryness in her throat. Her gaze scanned the road, and --
-- Meisk!
What?! They were going for Meisk? Fifteen versus twelve, counting the whers. Not good odds, especially considering that some of them had only undergone the most basic of training. The wher panicked, claws gouging into the ground as he whipped around, tail barely missing his attacker's head (fortunately for the man, he'd ducked in time), and backed away, wings flaring in agitation as a low snarling hiss emerged from his throat. Meira stepped backwards rapidly, a mental tug causing Meisk to follow her, warily eyeing the man. "Get in a circle, whers on the outside!" Her shout came automatically, instinctively. A circle, with the handlers on the inside, the whers surrounding them: It would be harder to get by a wher than it would a human, and honestly, she doubted the humans could fit all of the whers in a circle anyway. Heh. Yay for random spurts of humor. The pale wher's snarl turned into a whine, eyes flashing in panic, and as the man drew closer, he lunged.
A screech; a soft hiss and a curse; the grating of teeth against steel.
Meisk took another step back, head low, wary, ichor escaping the sides of his mouth where he'd tried to bite at the man's sword arm at the moment when the Benden rider had swung the blade, his teeth closing instead on the blade. It had stopped it from killing him, and the sting in his mouth was easily ignored, but he didn't like it. Didn't want the pain, nor the glory. He just wanted His...!
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Post by hseru on Apr 18, 2009 21:49:48 GMT -5
Everyone split off, and it was a small sense of discomfort that Rozen noted Whinny choosing to follow those who were off to the infirmary. She would have been glad for the solid woman’s presence at her back, but maybe they would end up needing her more than the ‘rescue’ party. Rozsk sent Whisk a brief touch that held well wishes. If nothing else, she’d come to respect the older brown who was teaching them the ins and outs of being partnered, and she was grateful, if silently so, for the improvement she could sense in the connection with Hers.
Rozen listened as the pair in front talked, first Jermayan then the healer. She remained silently alert, touching the gold’s mind every few minutes to peer through her advanced eyes, glad to be riding so that the sensation didn’t disorient her too much. The pair hadn’t practiced riding much yet, and the girl found it awkward for the first several steps until she gradually moved into the gold’s odd gait. Her over-large wings were tucked tight against her smooth hide to make her stocky form more compact, but they were both aware of how much they stood out in the darkness. It would be hard to miss something as, well, shiny as Rozsk.
The gold wher followed Jermaysk at an even pace, her steps not quite as long as his, her tail held just so several inches from the ground, swaying back and forth as she moved. Zeek, focused for perhaps the first time in his short life for more than five seconds, scouted the path above them, a silent brown shadow virtually unseen in the air. He didn’t have near the blessed night vision of the whers, but it was better than nothing. Rozsk was directing him, keeping him focused on the task. He was glad to comply. His goldshiny was so smart! He’d do anything for her! Look at how shiny she was, even in the dark! Shiny, shiny, so shiny, and all his! Rozsk nudged his mind, bringing him back under control, and he fluted a low apology, a sound unlikely to carry far, though she admonished him for it. Properly chastised, the brown flew in silent, low circles over the group, his eyes wandering the ground and sending back images to both of his females.
Rozsk gave a low rumble as Jermaysk stopped in the front, the sudden feeling of something being terribly wrong pervading over the tense atmosphere of the group. She took a few steps forward and to the side, her vivid yellow eyes beginning to show splashes of crimson as they scanned the area, her olfactory senses working overtime to try and catch a whiff of the danger, her inwards breaths long and deep. Zeek sent down a warning image almost at the same time as several… too many… invaders jumped from the bushes, weapons at the ready to tear into the small group.
Two of the attackers moved for the gold wher as Rozen backed into the circle loosely forming at Meira’s sharp command. Rozsk reared up with a roar, spreading her large wings and blasting them downwards in a gust of wind that made her rise just a bit higher, on tippytoes as her imposing claws slashed towards the face of one man, intent on spearing his skull on her daggers. Their charge was only minutely affected by the sudden gust kicked up in their direction, but the dust that flew into the air towards them had them both wincing as dirt got in their eyes. It was enough of a distraction for the gold, as her claws found purchase in the chest of one, missing the mark she’d aimed before as he twitched back from the sand. The wound wasn’t as deep as planned, leaving the man perfectly capable of coming back to attack again, though he might be a bit more wary. The gold bit back a frustrated growl, tucking her wings in close once more and backing up a bit until her tail brushed Rozen’s legs. The girl hadn’t been able to react fast enough to help, or even tell the gold not to, but now she stepped forward just a bit, keeping even with the gold wher’s hindquarters. She began easing into Rozsk’s mind, trying to keep their movements coordinated and herself informed if Rozsk decided to try something so flashy again. Her knife flashed in her hand, appearing as if by magic from the hidden sheath on her forearm. Subtlety was out the door for now, and she kept herself low against Rozsk, both using the gold as a shield and protecting her flank.
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Rei
Administrator
Rider Cr'oph Rider Er'ani Rider Elysia Rider/Healer Erilena Wherhandler Sydney Holdbrat Emitre Holdbrat Dileina Weyrbrat Elias Weyrbrat Terilyn
Woooo~ I am a fox!
Posts: 3,021
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Post by Rei on Apr 18, 2009 22:37:07 GMT -5
Mask froze as Jermaysk did, his nostrils flaring to catch the human scent. The dark blue snarled and this time it was clear it was a threat. As the group of fighters advanced the small blue nudged his back into the human grouping and chose his opponent. Rather than wait for the man to advance further, Mask gave a bellow and charged straight for him berserker style. After all the man could no longer be a threat if he wasn’t breathing.
The Benden rider had not been expecting the frontal assault and so Mask caught him off guard. The wher launched onto the man knocking him to the ground with enough force to push the air out of his lungs. Before the fighter could regain his senses the blue closed his jaws over his neck and whipped his head back and forth like a canine. As arterial blood sprayed over Mask from the mans severed jugular he released his grip to give a feral cry.
Springing from the corpse he lowered his head and barreled towards another fighter this time aiming to break a leg. Onyx hopped up and down on Malara’s shoulder before leaping off his bonded and gliding to the broken body of Mask’s former opponent. He circled the corpse once before scrambling up it to lick at the blood still pouring from the mans throat. As the warm liquid filled his belly he purred. Yum. Yes the ugly one had it’s uses.
In the face of her wher's ferocity Malara gave a small grin and unsheathed her own small dagger. She kept an eye on any opening between the whers big enough for a fighter to possibly squeeze through. The blonde spurred her wher on with encouraging thoughts and adoration. Mask was truly her best bet on getting out of this mess alive.
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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 Apr 18, 2009 23:23:20 GMT -5
Roivao stiffen as he felt Roisk tense beneath his fingers. Something was not right. Of course, a lot of things weren't right this night, not the least of which was their home slowing burning into dust. But that wasn't want was bothering Roisk. Something lurked just out of sight. Several somethings. Then without warning, more than a dozen armed men had come out to surround the group.
Roi had reacted on instinct and according to his training. He and Roisk backed quickly into Meira's circle. It was a smart order. The attacks would have a hard time ganging up on anyone that way. Roisk bellowed a challenge at the first man to come at him. He may only be a wherling, but he was already an impressive size. He reared on his hind legs, fanning his large wings for balance. As the man aimed a strike at his exposed underbelly, Roisk brought his full weight down on his shoulders. Only a quick reaction on the rider's part saved his life. He jumped back at the last second and escaped with a long slash down one side.
It was not a mortal wound, but it was deep and messy. The man collapsed in agony, his blood pooling beneath him. It was clear he would die a painful death before anyone would bother to see to him. With a sickening feeling in his heart, Roi knew what he had to do. Neither he nor Roisk could bear to let the man suffer. As soon as he dropped, Roi jumped forward and mercifully slit his throat. Mercy had it's price though. A second attacker, unperturbed by the quick demise of the first rushed forward with a knife aimed for Roi's unprotected back.
Roisk snarled in angry and swatted a wing down on the offending man's head. The attacker whirled in surprise and his knife slashed through the thin membrane. Roi bit back a cry as Roisk pain burned in his shoulders. He brought his own knife to bear, cutting into the man's arm. He wasn't dead by far and now he faced them with eyes that burned with hate. Roi swallowed back his own fear and held his ground. He couldn't risk looking to see if Roisk was already, but a mental presence assured him that his wher would be fine. He hardly need his wings to deal with such cowards who ambushed their enemies instead of challenge them outright. Why they were hardly worth the time it took to crush them!
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Post by ladybug on Apr 19, 2009 16:01:03 GMT -5
Rilyer was completely on edge as they began running towards the Weyr, but he had gotten himself involved now and he wasn't turning back. He had no experience with fighting, but maybe no attackers would block their way. The Bendenites might not even think of the children, since they would be concentrated on the riders.
No such luck, of course. Jermayask's growl alerted him to trouble, and Rilysk soon echoed the other brown with a snarl of his own. The attackers appeared out of the darkness. Rilyer could tell right away they the Bendenites outnumbered them. "Shards," Rilyer hissed under his breath. Now that the moment had arrived, he didn't even have time to panic. He jumped down from Rilysk's back, giving the wher leeway to fight.
One of the attackers darted forward, and before Rilyer could react, he felt a sharp pain in his side and realized he had been stabbed. Gasping, he crumpled to his knees, hand flying to the wound. It came away covered in blood. Rilysk roared, infuriated, and swatted at the attacker, sending him flying and probably breaking most of the bones in his body. Insomnia screamed after him, her oversized frill flared to its full extent.
Trying to be gentle, Rilysk pushed his handler back and joined the circle. Rilyer groaned as he shakily got to his feet. He tried to concentrate on the attackers, but his whole world was suddenly centered on the throbbing pain in his side.
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Post by weaving on Apr 21, 2009 1:12:54 GMT -5
Immediately after Meira shouted her defence plan Jermaysk enacted it, pushing up as close to the blue wher as he could, unwilling to let anyone get close enough to harm his. There were times when he’d been less than proud of his bulky and unattractive form but this was not one of them. He was too large to be easily knocked around by the men unlike some of the smaller wherlings who had yet to reach their full growth. It meant that he’d receive more of the attention than most, but in his rage at the fact that someone was trying to harm Jermayan, he wasn’t afraid. The fact that anyone would dare to harm his whers (for yes, though he was only a brown and had sired none of the whers fighting next to him, they were his to protect) had the brown seeing red.
He slashed out at one of the attackers who’d been foolish enough to come at him head on, gutting the man messily, hooking and pulling out his intestines. He didn’t bother to pay attention to the attacker or the steaming pile of entrails, instead surveying the scene in order to better judge what was happening. Rilysk, Roisk, Meisk, Rozsk and himself completed the circle, meaning that someone was missing. It didn’t take long to notice Mask running about and barreling over attackers, leaving himself completely open to attack. Jermaysk barked sharply at the blue, hoping it gain his attention. If something happened to him, he certainly wouldn’t leave the circle and therefore open his handler and the others to attack. The blue’s life wasn’t worth that of everyone else’s.
Jermayan had joined the circle, standing with his blade at the ready, though he quickly lowered his guard as he realized that one of their own, Rilyer, had been injured. Shards, the wound looked bad and he had only the most rudimentary of healing items on him. Some numbweed and a few bandages. Quickly, he approached the fellow brownhandler. Surely he couldn’t focus through that pain, which would only get him killed.
“I’ve got some numbweed and bandages to try and stop the bleeding,” he spoke, adding louder “Meira, cover my back!” He wasn’t going to just let Rilyer bleed to death or get himself killed because he was too distracted by pain. He wouldn’t let any of those with him go untreated. It went against his morals as a healer, even if it was somewhat foolish. “I’ll need you to keep an eye out for any attackers who get through, but it’ll be best if we can get that patched up as quickly as possible.” As Jermayan readied the bandages, he mentally checked in with Jermaysk, who relayed the total. Three dead and four injured, leaving twelve alive and seven of them perfectly capable of attack. No, make that six. Just at that moment the brown caught another attempting to slip by and had picked him up and flung him about like a ragdoll, neatly snapping his spine. If the man was still alive, he wouldn’t be going anywhere anytime soon.
Those remaining had backed out of reach of the immediate danger of the whers teeth and claws, devising a new strategy. They needed to take down the whers, which meant luring them out to expose their weak spots. Breaking out once more, they tried a new tactic. If they could taunt the whers into rearing up on their hind legs, their stomachs would be open to attack. Then it would be all too easy.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Apr 21, 2009 17:01:06 GMT -5
The other whers were mostly obedient to Meira's wish -- which she would usually have been surprised at, but now it was only vaguely noticed as draconic hide wrapped in a circle around her and the other handlers. Heart hammering hard and fast, almost painfully, against her ribcage, Meira kept herself closest to Meisk, gripping the knife so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She'd had to defend herself, before. It was just one of the side effects of living at Benden. But she'd never actually killed anyone. It went against her instinct to heal, and she swallowed hard against the rising panic. What if she just couldn't kill? And what if that ended in the death of one of the Selenitas wherhandlers? But how, exactly, did you just kill, so easily, take away a life and the life of a dragon with it? Meisk's tail lashed violently in his confusion and agitation, and a cloud of dust spat up, the blue's wings half-flaring in a loud shriek, which served as both alarm and as a warning towards the Bendenites. He was desperate, and he would hurt for His. Jermaysk's hide pressed against his served as some source of comfort, and Meisk hissed, faking a lunge towards another of the Riders circling, eyeing the whers, was rewarded with the slightest instinctive flinch.
The brown's sharp bark next to him made the pale ghost of a wher flinch, and his gaze fastened on Mask, too. The reaction was instant: Reds and yellows flooded the blue's gaze, and Jermaysk's bark was echoed with a low snarl. If that idiotic blue got His killed just because he didn't understand strategy -- Meisk's tail flicked in agitation again, and as Rilyer caught her eye, she couldn't help the inhalation of terrified frustration. There was almost a wild glory, in this. A dance, the way they were arranged: Circles. Careful. First to decide the dance was over would be killed. They had to endure. Outlast. They had the whers: There they held the advantage. But if Meisk was injured...injured badly...Meira would try to pull him out of the fighting. Sacrificing her wher simply was not an option. He was her mindmate. If he died, she didn't want to live.
Jermayan's order was followed automatically, the bluehandler placing herself at the other Healer's back, her gaze darting around the others and Meisk fell towards them, too, though he didn't break the circle entirely, a low warning creel emerging from his throat as Jermaysk snapped up another of the Bendenites. The one that whose blade had been bitten by the wher faked another lunge to the right, followed up by a short dagger rising from the left. The rush of adrenaline, the panic, that overwhelmed him had only one possible outcome: Death. Be it for him or for the man. The wher surged forward, the short dagger piercing the wing that was held defensively downwards, ripping through the membrane and coming away slick with ichor as Meisk's chest rammed into the man's, teeth closing around his throat. For a split second, he hesitated. A life was a life, after all. And then the man's right hand came up, the longer knife aiming for his side, and pain seared through his left wing as well, and instinctively, his jaws snapped shut and blood, metallic and warm, gushed into his mouth as Meisk rapidly backtracked, defensively hovering near MeiraHis, Jermaysk's, and Rilysk's again.
And then the attackers were back again, one of them dancing just out of Meisk's range. The blue swiped, and then uttered a frustrated creel. He couldn't close the distance; the gleaming knife would only draw ichor, and the man had the advantage of reach. Shying backwards to prevent his forepaw being sliced open, the wher hissed, torn wings flaring in front of his face instinctively, jeweled eyes closing as the man darted forward, pressing his luck, and then leaping back just in time to avoid the wher's blow. Rearing up -- would be deadly. And yet the urge to do so, to come down on top of the man, was almost impossible to resist. The wher's tail lashed, and abruptly, Meira dropped to her knees, hands pushing through the dirt until her fingers closed around a round stone, the size of a chicken egg. Scrambling to her feet, she issued the command unhesitatingly. Duck! The wher's head dropped obedently, and the stone sang through the air, connecting with a sharp crack to the man's temple.
Dazed, he fell back, staggering, and Meisk's claws met their mark this time, the wher darting forward. Curved, deadly talons ripped through the man's stomach, and then the blue backed into the circle again, hissing and snapping at any Bendenites who tried to catch his side or flank with their knives as Meira half-smiled, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment to steady her heartbeat, before she crouched behind Meisk, safely in the circle of whers, scrambling around to find more rocks, whispering urgently to the wherhandlers, "Get rocks, get anything that's hard enough to make a difference." Because, really: M'ta hadn't taught target practice for nothing, and it worked. Who could ignore a rock to the head? It would give the whers a chance to get in there, without being caught by knives.
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Rei
Administrator
Rider Cr'oph Rider Er'ani Rider Elysia Rider/Healer Erilena Wherhandler Sydney Holdbrat Emitre Holdbrat Dileina Weyrbrat Elias Weyrbrat Terilyn
Woooo~ I am a fox!
Posts: 3,021
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Post by Rei on Apr 21, 2009 20:34:35 GMT -5
The other whers? Completely ignored as Mask barreled into his opponents legs snapping one. As the man fell he slashed out wildly with his blade by chance catching the side of Mask’s neck as the wher’s head whipped around to fasten on the man’s neck. Once crunch and the satisfying taste of blood was in his mouth. Backing away from the corpse Mask shook spraying blood (and his own ichor) every which way. Malara instinctively cupped her hand around her neck as she felt the pain. Back darling. Get back here.
The blue snarled at the retreating figures and bolted back to his. Thrusting himself into the circle between Roisk and Rilysk he growled low to his. Smaller than the other whers, Mask didn’t have quite the reach they did and it was angering him. Hissing low he resisted the urge to break the circle again. He wanted blood. He wanted to kill those who dared to threaten his.
Meira’s comment about throwing things brought to mind the lessons with the brown weyrling. Good idea. Malara grabbed a few rocks from the ground and began to pelt their on coming attackers with them. Unfortunately it was only a matter of time before they became wise to this strategy to. After all they were Benden. Trained fighters. Their best improvising probably wouldn’t hold them off for to long.
A rippling snarl from Mask and he lunged out and grabbed a Bendenite by the leg dragging him back towards the circle for his larger bronze sibling to slice and dice. Every fiber of the blues being screamed for him to take to the jungle where he could stalk and kill at his leisure. He was dark enough to blend in and fast enough to kill them before they had a chance to react. Overconfident? Perhaps. But his was insistent that he stay. So stay he did.
Onyx having his fill of Benden blood had slinked past the stomping feet of whers and human’s alike. Scrambling up his bonded he clung to her shoulder and frilled. Bleed. The brown hissed eyes swirling in pleasant greens. They would all bleed and then there would be rivers of blood for him to drink.
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Post by ladybug on Apr 22, 2009 22:31:25 GMT -5
Rilysk swiped at one of the whers, clawing the enemy across the side and sending him away, bawling. The wher was injured, but not killed, and might come back again. The brown growled, tail lashing in agitation. He twisted his head around to eye his Handler, whining. He could tell that Rilyer was badly hurt.
Rilyer swatted weakly at Jermayan, trying to push the other Handler away. "Stop...you need to help with the fighting," he said, gasping. It seemed difficult to talk, and he didn't bother to say more. He coughed and put his hand to his mouth, feeling warm blood. "It's useless. I'm..." He trailed off, slumping to the ground as a wave of dizziness forced him to his knees. It was hard to see, his vision constricted even though his eyes hadn't been injured.
Rilysk...you have to go on without me. Help them, he thought, too tired to speak out loud any longer. Rilysk hissed, angry and frustrated at his Handler's helplessness, but he obeyed, turning to face the attackers again as the darkness started to cloud Rilyer's vision.
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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 Apr 24, 2009 16:31:14 GMT -5
Roivao was too busy with his own defenses to see to anyone else. He was vaguely aware of the others and that Rilyer was hurt, but he couldn't look. Meira was the best thing for him right then anyway. The man Roi had slashed charged at him, knife poised for a stab. Years of training took over Roi's movements. He parried the blow and sidestepped, sending the man stumbling over the body of his comrade. Roi turned quickly and drove his blade between the man's ribs and into his heart. Quick and neat was the best way to deal with these men. Roi pushed the part of him that cried at what he was doing into the back of his mind. He didn't want to feel sorry for them right now. He wanted them to pay for what they had done to Iloth and Roisk.
Roisk bellowed a challenge at the other attackers, causing two to pause in their advance. Even at two thirds his full size, Roisk was a large wher, already bigger than full grown Meisk. Who dared to challenge him! The two men advanced, trying to take the wher from two angles. Roisk turned on one in a flash, jaws finding the man's neck before he could react. With a sickening crunch, the bronze snapped through the spinal column, killing him instantly. The second man tried to take advantage of the distraction and am for Roisk's side, but the wher was ready for him. His tale whipped out, tripping the attacker to his knees. He would not be allowed to get up, as Roisk turned to face him directly. No one who threatened his Roi and the others would be allowed to live.
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Avu
Weyrleader Ce'thian Rider A'emi Handler Sena Harper Matteo Weyrbrat Riaren
Posts: 2,439
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Post by Avu on Apr 26, 2009 12:39:27 GMT -5
And then Neirin ran by, waving her arms and shrieking hysterically about a firelizard in her pudding. Everyone momentarily stopped to stare at her, and the goldhandler kept running, oblivious. She was in the middle of a word when she tripped, faceplanting at the edge of the cliff, and, writhing hysterically, managed to tumble off, her voice fading into the distance as she fell:
"OHEMEFFGEEeeeeee...."
Everyone stared, and then shrugged and went back to fighting.
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