[#1] Legatus Wing Drills

[Rei]

Elysia watched as Ka’rys went down the line, she carefully noted what he said to the two before her. When he stopped before her she waited. Then a question. “You always use a bullwhip as a weapon? You’re going to have to show me how that’s as efficient as either M’ta’s throwing blades or Evrgarde’s bow. Later, though. You can put everything away.”

The greenrider nodded and swiftly and made to gather everything up. The question he posed was rhetorical in nature. Her answer would have been that she had many different whips, usually two on hand all the time and no not both bullwhips. Her unique one had been destroyed in the battle in the Main hall. Her favorite one, the one that she made herself with all those nasty bits of metal inter-braided in it. In hindsight she realized that she should have brought her shorted weighted fighting whip with her today as well, but alas. Such could not be helped now.

Her next whip she was going to make longer. Yes it couldn’t quite cover the distance a throwing blade or arrow but it had it’s own uses. Whips could be used to protect the body from such weapons if you knew how to wield them right and she had been using whips almost solely since she was eight turns old. Her father made sure she knew the weapon inside out. Including how you could inadvertently hurt yourself from not knowing what the shards you where doing. Half of the older scars she bore where accidentally self inflicted. Yes it wasn't the perfect weapon but when one knew what they where doing it was very formidable.

Carefully replacing all her weapons Elysia waited as the bronzerider continued down the line and nodded in acceptance as he asked for her presence after drills. For what she hadn’t a clue unless it was about her weapon. Thoughts on the matter where not productive however so she pushed them from her mind and waited until Ka’rys spoke again. No thread fighting. She was pleased at this fact. In her father’s wing they had been restricted to mainly aerial battles in Fort skies. That is where she and Onyth excelled. Dragon on dragon combat. It was the main reason she had been picked to go to Selenitas. Now she got put on a wing which dealt with all the crap no one else could or would do. Was it wrong that that excited her? From a mindhealer’s point of view probably, but whatever.

Her eyes fixed themselves on the bronzerider at the mention of a ranged weapon. She could acquire one but it would be another skill she would have to take time to learn. That was problematic but not unfixable. What type though? That would merit thinking on later. For now she shook her head in a negative at he Wingleader. No she had no questions.

Onyth flared her wings outwards and began a series of stretches as bidden. The green moved to get some space as she pivoted each joint and made sure each muscle was working properly and was without pain or tightness. An excitement began to build within her. Fighting was what she was good at. What she loved. There was nothing quite like it. Even mock battles made her slightly giddy. Shaking out her legs she balanced herself and continued making sure she was ready.

[mierce]

Evrgarde bowed her head slightly at Ka’rys’s appraisal. The bow was indeed back-worn, so she left it lying on the ground. Her two boot knives found themselves back in their sheaths and the belt dagger and baton in their holsters on either side of her hip. She listened to the Bronzerider’s comments to the other wingriders, curious as to what he had to say… which turned out to be not much other than that everyone being a dagger user was not a good thing. At his request to speak to her afterward, Evrgarde simply gave a curt nod. “Yes, sir.”

It seemed that with the initial examination out of the way, the Bronzerider was ready to get down to business. Evrgarde stood at attention as Ka’rys went into further details. A fighting wing; she could live with that. Actually, she loved the idea. She had no real opinion on threadfighting other than that it’s fairly mundane despite its inherent importance to keeping Pern safe. Other than that responsibility, she cared little for the task. Being told that they would be doing the dirty work nobody else wanted to do though? Or being just about forced to excel in a variety of weapons and combat modes? Well, this bluerider was simply stoked at the thought. How being northern born had anything to do with being suitable for the job she couldn’t tell, but hey, she wasn’t complaining.

Iorath tossed his head a bit at the hint of emotions seeping from His. Evrgarde’s expression remained neutral throughout their Wingleader’s speech, but he could tell that his rider was liking the situation more and more. Absently the blue wondered what sort of tasks they would be doing. A part of him was naturally concerned for his mindmate’s safety and this Wing sounded just about anything but “safe”. At the same time, he was also growing increasingly excited. How much of it was due to His’ rather strong personality towards him, he couldn’t really say.

At Cicerth’s order, Iorath moved away from the other dragons for more space and began carefully stretching his limbs and wings one at a time.

[Requiem]

"Multiple edges, not thrown straight," he responded softly to the man, trusting that would be enough to give Ka'rys an idea of their capabilities. He was seriously considering going to the stars almost exclusively and just keeping an extra throwing knife in a wrist sheath just in case. That and his normal array of dirks and daggers. Removing the hairpins from the pouch as he replaced it and sliding the two blades he'd brought today back into place, M'ta glanced down the line with curiosity, trying to determine what it was exactly Ka'rys was looking for, aside from making a mental calculation about the choice styles of those on his wing. Probably unlike anyone else there, M'ta was a long-range fighter foremost, and a blade fighter second. He could handle himself well enough, but he was not delusional. Ever since the siege, he'd gotten a pretty good idea of what he could and couldn't do, and going toe-to-toe with trained fighters only worked out in his favor if it was one-on-one and he didn't have more to deal with later. He was a street fighter from Bitra and nothing more than that. Some people here didn't even bring long-ranged weapons, which should have made him nervous (and in a way, did. He was used to kind of being on the higher end of the skill level, which kept his natural paranoia to a manageable level.) Nevermind that likely no one in Selenitas could match him for accuracy or speed with a thrown weapon; he'd been good before and put more work into it since, especially with the throwing stars.

No, in this group he definitely felt a bit like the kid playing at being a man. That or the others were just overconfident. He supposed that was a possibility, but they were from the northern wars, so it wasn't a large one. They were still alive.

Ka'rys was addressing them all again, and the back-worn comment made him curious. (Normally he had two of his blades hidden there but he'd taken the letter very literally, which it seemed now hadn't been necessary.) Not a Threadfighting...oh bother. It had occurred to him briefly, it had, but he'd mostly dismissed it because he and Behruth didn't fit that bill. Behruth was barely four turns old, and a known pacifist - to Ciceroth for sure. Ka'rys may or may not have forgotten. He hated violence above anything else; putting him on a wing meant to fight and do things no one else could or would? M'ta bit his lip and glanced back at the brown, whose steady stream of cheerful half-awake emotions had shifted to an awkward quietness. You said earlier that it might be. You okay? The brown's response was the equivalent of a mental shrug. The uneasyness remained.

They'd already agreed that if they ended up assigned to a fighting wing they'd stick it out; Behruth was logical if nothing else. He understood the need for it even if he didn't like it. Throwing him in with a lot of older fighting dragons on a wing with fighting as its primary purpose, however, caught both of them a bit flatfooted. M'ta tched softly beneath his breath. Well, Behruth had fought before (see: missing greenpair). They'd just work through it. At least it sounds like aerial fighting is more of a maybe/if thing and they'll be focusing more on the ground stuff, M'ta offered Behruth. The brown huffed. Pay attention, he was fine.

"Uh, yeah, questions. You're torturing us on purpose; I've had at least one person ask me if I knew what the rope is for." He flashed a wry grin. "Come on, wingleader, how long you gonna keep us hanging?" People were too quiet and stiff right now, tch. (Plus he knew Ka'rys might have caught his reaction, and it was his way of showing that he and Behruth were okay.)

The brown had moved toward Iorath without cramping his space, a natural response to being mildly upset. Oddly enough, part of the reason for his upset was that he knew he could be part of this wing and claiming that he simply couldn't do it would have been a lie. He'd proved that to himself in the fight with Fort. Behruth stretched his wings, glancing around at the other excited dragons and feeling like he wanted to melt into the ground right now. His gaze returned to Ciceroth. Yes, he was curious why they'd include him with all these others, though he wouldn't ask aloud. Besides, he already had a pretty good idea that it had more to do with His than Behruth.

[Ember]

Iskierka waited idly while Ka'rys examined the items the other members of the wing had. When her turn came around he was completely silent. This didn't really mean anything since his comments to the others hadn't indicated any approval or disapproval so she didn't dwell on it. She returned her weapons to their respective sheathes when she was indicated to do so and waited for him to finish checking out the others. His comment at the end alarmed her slightly. He didn't approve of daggers? Or was it just having daggers?

He moved on without elaborating and she was left to wonder where her fault lay. He explained the purpose of the wing and she listened with interest. She wasn't surprised to learn they weren't a threadfighting wing. At the very least, she, Elysia, and that fort rider were not threadfighters. None of them would have been sent to Selenitas (whether to help it or attack it) if they were not trained extensively in combat. She did not know most of those present but she knew at least three were from the north. She had no reason to doubt what Ka'rys said of the others present.

Their exact purpose did surprise her. She knew that there was something similar in Benden's wings. There was an equal amount of secrecy surrounding them as would surround this new wing. She was pleased to have such an interesting role in the weyr. Her earlier worry was also addressed. She hadn't necessarily done anything necessarily wrong by having daggers. It was the lack of a ranged weapon. Throwing knives seemed like her best bet though learning how to use them would be quite annoying.

When asked if she had any questions she was beat to the punch by a brownrider. The lack of formality was looked down upon by her but at the very least it should suffice to get the wingleader to explain what the rope and paperclips were for. They were obviously for their drills so hopefully they'd find out exactly what they would be doing.

Ioth didn't have to move much to get enough space to stretch. The other dragons nearby had done that job for him. He began to methodically stretch out each limb. As always, he paid particular attention to his wings. He had to get any stiffness out so that he'd be able to perform as well as he was able to. He wasn't eager to be a part of such a dangerous wing but His was and that would be enough to make him determined to do well.

[tarra]

Standing at ease, Ar'ren nodded his attention as Ka'rys made his comments, his calm brown eyes and quiet listening taking noting of the others: who carried what, who was being rapped for carrying fewer items than needed and so on. Part of his sharpness came from having been a Wingsecond; he was, from long practice, attentive and alert of most things, and in particular what his Wingleader might say or do in regards to the Wing. Much of it, however, was born from his intense curiosity at having been called here. at all. He was, without batting an eyelid, still making his assessment of what this Wing was intended to do and whether he should stay at all.

Now that Ka'rys had laid it clear, however, he found himself rather satisfied with the arrangement at large. There was no question of Ysaloth and him returning to Fort, not after everything they had said and done to save themselves here; court-martial and a swift death would be the best they could hope for if they ever fell into Fortian hands, and even that was a slim hope at best. The fact that Ciceroth's rider had called them here and was now filling them with facts meant for loyal riders meant that he trusted them to do what was expected of them - and in good fath to Selenitas too. The implicit message behind his being here at all was not lost on Ar'ren, and much as he did not want to admit, it gave him hope.

That did not mean, however, that he would disclose the set of three throwing knives cunningly hidden across his person. That he was willing to throw his lot in with the Selenitas riders did not mean he was going to trust them completely as yet. Ka'rys, it seemed, had completely passed over his metal-specked gloves, taking them as ornamental rather than a weapon. The thought almost made him smile; a master of unarmed combat, the gloves had saved his life and taken life more than once. He took back the weapons as asked and returned them to the various positions he had had them before. Returning his expressionless soldier's gaze to Ka'rys at his question, he was about to reply when another brownrider spoke up. A side glance revealed a rather familiar-looking rider, and a flash of confirmation from Ysaloth told him it was the brown who had ripped Kyrahth and A'emi from the skies. The coolness of his eyes became ice, but he spoke no words and gave no hint that he had recognised M'ta. The question and the tone it had been asked in were enough to amuse: these Selenitas riders were so easy-going, and he wondered how their Wingleaders might handle them being so casual in a drill. He would hold his silence and learn soon enough.

Ysaloth returned Ciceroth's words with a pulse of acknowledgement as he fanned his own wings to begin the set of warm-ups common to the ordinary Fortian dragon. He hardly needed it - Ar'ren and him had already stretched before coming on the off-chance that the requested implements might be used on them - but the brown did not wish to argue with his Wingleader. Taking his time with the exercises that used both neck an tail. all four limbs, his spine and his wings, he kept himself attentive to the rest of the Wing's behaviours. At the first sign of trouble he would bail, taking Ar'ren with him.

[Tashe]

When Ka'rys moved onto the next person in line, E'rro knelt to tuck the appropriate knives back into their places. He took the moments after inspection to tuck in his shirt and cinch on his belt, shifting it so that the dagger rested on his left hip. Next his throwing knives disappeared into their sheaths, but the rope and the hairpins stayed out as ordered. Running a hand through his bangs the Brownrider decided he needed to cut his hair back again, his locks tended to grow like a weed. He tucked his thumbs into the corners of his pockets. Maybe he should have brought his Bola instead, then again he wasn't as confident with it than he would have liked to be. Crushing a small clump of dirt beneath his boot E'rro moved his hand to rest on the hilt of his belt dagger. His movements ceased. Not a threadfighting wing? Drumming his fingers on the hilt he looked up from the ground his lips turning down and then up slightly as he thought. He fell into the 'or both' category as he assumed some of the others did but he hadn't drawn that connection until the Bronzerider mentioned it. Though since E'rro didn't know most of the others, it would have been a fifty-fifty guess at first glance.

The dirty jobs no one asks about. There was a pattern of Northern influence in the Legatus wing for a reason and Ka'rys had boiled it down to a simple explanation. They were, for the most part, already trained in their respective fighting styles. It would take less time to get them prepared for black operations than it would teaching a southern born Wingrider from scratch. But he wondered what constituted as exceptional under Ka'ry's definition. The Wingsecond had a feeling he was going to be working harder in the next few months, if not weeks, than he had been in the last five years. The prospect both excited him and exhausted him by pure thought. When the Brownrider spoke up, E'rro rocked onto his heels with a smile. When he had walked into the infirmary earlier this morning, the rope had been an obvious addition to his normal baggage but unlike M'ta, he had not been asked about it. He was secretive enough as it was, the nighshift residents had stopped trying to ask him questions a while ago. Planting his feet again, the Wingsecond resumed his familiar hands-behind-his-back stance the smile all but the faintest trace disappearing.

Seeing as he already stretched his weaker wing, the Brown moved on to his other one. It felt nice to be part of a specialty wing again, he'd be lying if he said it didn't boost his ego a little. But maybe he felt more eager because he was no longer responsible for the lives of the younger generation of Dragons. Ismaroth had counted himself lucky that none of his Wing had died in the attack, but he felt as if it had been more luck than anything that had saved the dragons. They had been caught ill prepared for an attack. Moving onto his other limbs the Brown wiggled his toes, the claws making small divots in the soft ground.

[glamourie]

Tough crowd.

Ka’rys crinkled his nose slightly as he gazed at the group, giving them all time to put their weapons back on their person. He didn’t believe in totally unarming an individual for very long, and therefore, he wouldn’t ask them to leave the weapons at home or out where he could see them. Being paranoid, he half-expected enemies to spring out of the woodwork at any second. And their enemies were among them. He’d put Iskierka, Elysia, Ar’ren and A’emi on his wing for a reason. His logic was simple: Elysia and Iskierka came from Benden and if they betrayed, it was likely that the two Fort riders would have no problem teaching them a lesson. The same was true in reverse. He was hoping both pairs would, eventually, be more loyal to him than the rest of the wing. Putting the people who could deal with anyone who was out of line all together was, in his opinion, safer than leaving them separated. A nice smack in the face, really – a reality check. That was his goal anyway.

M’ta’s question drew his focus and Ka’rys turned to look at the brownrider with a critical eye. His head cocked to the side slightly before he smiled.

“Hanging you wasn’t on the list of things to do with the rope, brownrider, and I’m fairly certain your weyrmate wouldn’t thank me for it. Just the same, I had planned to get to what the rope really is for soon enough. Patience is a virtue you should learn, but considering the company you keep, I can’t say I’m surprised that you have none.” Turning on his toe, he stepped across the group and actually took Iskierka by her arm (albeit lightly). The touch was loose enough that she could pull away if she absolutely needed to, but it was firm enough to indicate that he wanted her to move. Guiding her toward the front where he’d stood (but not before gathering her rope), Ka’rys stopped and handed it to her. “I’m told you have brass balls, bluerider. I’m sure you won’t mind being the example for our demonstration.”

Iskierka was picked for one reason and one reason only: she’d proven herself, when Fort attacked, to be entirely self-serving. She needed to learn to work as a team player, and Ka’rys had no tolerance for people who couldn’t do that. If her loyalty was only to her wing, then it better be to the whole wing. If she couldn’t do that, Ka’rys would make her life a living hell, and he was very good at breaking people. Being an interrogator was more than just physical torture. Continually embarrassing her, for instance, was not something out of the realm of possibility if it made a point. If she couldn’t live with being the permanent example for all of his exercises (and some of them would be brutal), she’d have to show him she deserved to be treated a touch better. And if she couldn’t do that, she’d get booted back to the Miles Wing with the rest of the incompetents. Her choice.

“Since M’ta’s very happy to blurt out the question I’m sure all of you are thinking, I will explain. Each and every one of us has to be able to handle conditions that the average dragonrider will never experience. This means we must all be adept fighters, yes, but there’s more to it than that. For instance, in a situation like our more recent attack,” he didn’t look at Ar’ren out of respect; he didn’t want to draw unnecessary discomfort to the brownrider if it was possible, “there’s a possibility of you being tied up at some point. One of our first exercises, as a result, will be escaping restraints. We’ll be working on this regularly, to try and make sure that everyone can escape being tied up or restrained at quick paces. And first and foremost will be rope. I had a very grumpy brownrider and a very pleasant goldrider both show me two different types of sailor’s knots, and I spent a good portion of my afternoon devising a completely unique knot based on them both. And I’m going to teach all of you to tie the knots. So, get your rope and Iskierka is going to display for everyone how it’s done.”

She was also going to be the first one tied up, but she didn’t need to know that. Ka’rys had every intention of deliberately using her in every sample until he was sure that she understood the necessity of being more respectful. There was a possibility that she wouldn’t understand why she was being picked on but that was what questions were for. And he had a feeling she wouldn’t hesitate to ask.

Our first and more important part of this drill is going to be taking off while guarding our wings. It is important as most fighting wings are taught to go for the wings, since that will cripple us. I’m guessing most of you know how. Onyth, would you mind demonstrating for us? Ciceroth stretched his wings more insistently and then turned his head to look at the green, eyes whirling shades of blue. Taking off and landing was their primary agenda, but they also had a role with the riders on the ground… he was actually looking forward to that. Perhaps that was wicked, but eh, Ciceroth wasn’t in the most pleasant of moods. He wanted to be near the hatching sands with his mate. Not sitting out there babysitting, even if he understood the necessity.

[Requiem]

M'ta shrugged eloquently as Ka'rys addressed him, not at all put off by the mild scolding behind the words. He was twenty. If the bronzerider didn't expect him to be a bit impatient, that was his own oversight; at any rate, the younger man got the feeling the comment was less a matter of reproach and more just the way Ka'rys was. "Someone had to ask what everyone's curious about, and this is a really dead crowd today," he offered lightly. His eyes followed the wingleader's movements with no small amount of interest. Of course, he likely could have gotten his weyrmate to tell him, but he was fine with being left in the dark, just like everyone else.

Brass balls? Now he was interested in what would make Ka'rys say that about Iskierka. The bronzerider managed to put it in such a way that it didn't sound entirely positive. Or positive at all, really. Whatever he was up to, though, it involved the rope.

Tying each other up, huh? He frowned slightly, knowing that was something he probably should know how to do - escaping bonds - but didn't. M'ta had never had occasion to be tied up, or reason to practice getting out of it. He'd been bound before, yes, but by nothing as flimsy as rope. Of course, it was unlikely people would be carrying around chains as a 'just in case' thing should come be knocking on Selenitas's door. Again. And even if they did, he could get out of that readily enough just so long as they didn't strip search him first. Locks were something he had no trouble with.

Smirking slightly at mention of R'wign's grumpiness - no doubt, considering he hated anything that had something to do with fishing - M'ta shifted his feet and settled in to watch Iskierka and Ka'rys. The rope was held lightly in his hands.

Behruth curled his head toward Ciceroth, dipping slightly lower as the faint yellow in his eyes faded. Taking off while protecting wings; he could do that. It was useful for many things, not just fighting, right? Like if you wanted to take off or land in an enclosed space. Yes, that could be very useful and it wasn't that combat-related. He glanced at Onyth, determined to learn how to do this swiftly so as not to hold the rest of the dragons up; most of them probably already knew how.

[Ember]

Iskierka listened to the exchange between the Wingleader and the brownrider. She supposed she ought to begin learning names rather than just thinking of them by rank. The Wingleader - Ka'rys - probably wouldn't be referring to them by their rank. At least, not for more specific orders. There were three brownriders and two blueriders present so it simply wouldn't work. Elysia's name she knew well enough. She'd have to make a concious effort with the others, much to her annoyance. She didn't care for names. Names didn't determine one's place in life.

Iskierka wasn't too distracted by her thoughts not to notice Ka'rys approach her - really, how would she have survived if she let herself get distracted so easily? - and grab her arm. She couldn't say she liked the physical contact but at least it wasn't painful. The bluerider didn't make an attempt to escape his grasp as he led her to where he'd been standing before. She noted he picked up her rope and she was curious what his intentions were. The comment about brass balls had her eyebrows knitting together ever so slightly. Considering the only ones who had seen her in action had not been pleased with her she doubted it was a compliment. She dipped her head slightly when she found out she'd be demonstrating. It wasn't an option.

The bluerider ran a thumb over the rope as it was given to her and she was forced to listen to his explanation rather than analyze his words and actions. It irked her that she didn't have the time to figure out her standing with him. As she listened to him though her gaze flicked over to Ar'ren. There was no malice in her gaze, not really. He was an annoyance certainly and she held no respect for him but he had done her no personal fault to focus her ire on him. Her eyes settled back on her rope as she listened to the rest of what Ka'rys said. Oh lovely. They'd all be trussed up like wherries for the spit. Iskierka liked the idea of being able to escape, but to be tied up? It was a vulnerability she hated.

Iskierka's mind went over what Ka'rys said again and was hooked on "restraints." It was possible that he meant just ropes but if he meant other kinds, such as chains, then the hairpins and paperclips might make sense. She was not able to pick locks but she knew of the skill. If he did bring chains then bringing something that could possibly pick the locks of them might be handy. She didn't have time to think on it though. First they were learning Ka'rys' knot and she was being forced to demonstrate. She looked at him to signify she was ready while she shifted her grip on the rope to both hands.

Ioth shifted uncomfortabley for two reasons. The first wasn't so important. He was simply restless and would have preferred to be moving. The second was of far more importance to him. His was not very pleased with having to be a demonstration. He sensed no danger to her but it made him unhappy that she was unhappy. A sharp mental command made him put aside his unease and he listened to Ciceroth. Onyth would be going first? Oh, he was sure she would do splendidly! He watched her eagerly though he made certain he wasn't too distracted by Onyth herself to miss the point of the lesson.

[Rei]

Elysia shifted slightly to listen in as Ka’rys spoke to M’ta. It was always good to try and learn what you could about your wingmates even if it was from someone else. Hmm this one had a weyrmate. He was also less uptight than the others. Her eyes shifted to their Wingleader as he moved again. This time to grab Iskierka and lead her to the forefront. Interesting. Hmmm. What had her fellow Bendenite gotten herself into. Perhaps it had something to do with the Main Hall incident? Iskierka had certainly not made many friends there. Subtly she shifted to a more comfortable standing position and with interest watched the scene in front of her.

When Ka’rys revealed the purpose of the rope she smiled. Oh yay bondage! Ok not exactly but close enough. Bondage without most of the fun. It still excited her though. Tying knots was something she liked to do but not exactly in this context. It was more for securing her ‘playmates’ so they wouldn’t be able to get at her. It would be beyond interesting to learn new knots. Excited the greenrider was. So much so that Onyth gave her the equivalent of a mental eye roll. Just what hers needed, more hobbies. Giving her dragon a loving brush the Benden woman fixed her eyes on Ka’rys and Iskierka determined to pay close attention.

Onyth gave a nod to Ciceroth as he spoke to her. Of course Ciceroth. I will do my best. She replied evenly as she strode forward. Craning her neck towards the sky the green crouched, muscles bunching as they readied for action. Springing into the air she twisted in a corkscrew only then opening her wings and giving them a hard flap.

As she rose she twisted and looped, making sure her body was never still or in one place too long. Constant movement made it harder for the opponent to get a good precise shot in. The green hoped that is what Ciceroth meant, for that is what she had been taught. Well other than betweening from the ground. If not then she was willing to learn things differently. Finally she leveled out at a decent altitude and circled. Brushing against the bronze’s mind again lightly she spoke. Was that acceptable? As she waited for an answer her whirling eyes turned to her wingmates.

[Tashe]

Wouldn't brass ovaries be a more accurate statement? Since females do not have testicles... but then maybe she carries a set of brass balls around with her. Wouldn't that be amusing. He resisted the urge to chuckle. Sh, Isma. I am trying to listen. E'rro began to tap the side of his leg with his fingers, watching Ka'rys as be began to answer M'ta's question. Restraints. Escape from being tressed up like a winter wherry. This piqued his interest, and it wouldn't be far from the truth to say that he was excited. The brown rider had never done anything like it before, no one had ever deemed it important for him to learn. New skills always brought forth a sense of need in him, like any other driven person the challenge of mastering a new teaching gave him immense satisfaction. Rocking forward slightly, he eagerly hooked the coils with the toe of his boot and met the rope half way. Finding one of the ends E'rro wrung it between his hands slowly. Although he wasn't totally interested in knot tying, he was ready to do so when instructed.

Shifting so he could get a better view of the Green, Ismaroth flicked his tail before curling it around himself. Protect your wings while taking off, make sure the attacker can't keep a steady target, etc, etc. The voice of his old Weyrlingmaster ran through his head, it wasn't a sound he wished to hear despite the words that were being spoken. Preventing attack from tooth and claw was easier than flame, although both had their difficulties. As Onyth began to move, the Brown settled his gaze on her form. She lifted off with a flurry of movement. Ismaroth tracked her progress until she leveled out.

[mierce]

Evrgarde eyed M’ta curiously at his rather bold inquiry of their Wingleader. Really? Did he really just ask so flippantly? She found the boy’s forwardness rather intriguing; a part of her wondered in Ka’rys might tie him up for insubordination. As it turns out, the Benden girl was chosen for demonstration. Of course, at the time Evrgarde did not know that Ka’rys intended to tie up Iskierka; she merely immediately imagined it for the sake of personal amusement. She wouldn’t put it past Ka’rys to do such a thing, after all. Nodding in silent acknowledgement of the bronzerider’s words, Evrgarde picked up her own rope and uncoiled it, ready to watch and imitate as necessary.

Iorath favored Behruth with a supportive glance and thoughts when the brown moved towards him to stretch. He knew the brown was still fairly young and more friendly than aggressive. Being on this wing would surely be a challenge to the dragon. He said nothing though, instead directing his attention to Ciceroth and then to Onyth’s demonstration. Was it just his imagination or did this green look particularly stunning today?

No.

Not even with a female rider?

Shut up and pay attention to your lessons.

The blue chuckled silently to himself and set his appreciative eyes on the lovely green. He watched her spiral upward a length before unfurling her wings for flight. Beautiful.

[glamourie]

No resistance. Good girl. Ka’rys resisted the urge to smile (it was not at all a pleasant one, either) at Iskierka, instead holding his hand out for her to take his rope. “After I told you all to bring rope, I got a second piece for each of you of my choosing. This one will be yours. Lay them both out parallel to one another on the ground,” he explained, indicating the ground in front of her. Their bindings would come in two steps; first he would teach them to tie the knots, and then he would tie them each up. He had plans for how to make it… unique… as well, but that was to come. He waited until she complied before stepping back – deliberately giving Iskierka ‘center stage.’ All eyes on her. If she wanted to be number one, she could be number one. And every mistake she made, every screw up, would be in the spotlight, pointed out to her in front of everyone else. He wasn’t going to tolerate anyone’s ego on his wing except his own. There wasn’t enough room.

As he let Iskierka get ready, Ka’rys moved to the supplies he’d brought – all piled up on the far edge of the clearing, where Ciceroth had been. Removing some lines of rope from the bag, he walked behind the group (so as not to interfere in letting Iskierka demonstrate – mustn’t distract) and began handing out the ropes to each person. Two ropes per person.

“I assume you know how to tie an overhand knot. Tie a simple one in the middle of the ropes – both of them. Make sure that both ropes are pulled through but don’t pull it tight yet. For the record,” and Ka’rys turned to look at the rest of his wing critically as he walked, “you should all be following her instructions as you receive the second piece of rope. I repeat: do not pull the overhand knot tight. And once you’ve done that, pull both ropes through the loop a second time, but again don’t pull them tight. Iskierka, if you wouldn’t mind showing us your ropes for emphasis on how it should look?” It was becoming daylight and therefore much easier to see what was going on. Good for the drills… bad if Iskierka was shy. He didn’t think she was. She looked way too sure of herself to be shy.

They needed to speed up if the drills were going to finish before the day became unbearably hot. Ka’rys’s heat tolerance wasn’t the best (being from Fort Weyr his whole life, he was more accustomed to cooler weather and preferred it over the inferno that the South had become). He also didn’t want to make drills an uncomfortable experience beyond the necessary requirements. It didn’t have to be fun – but making everyone grouchy and irritable wasn’t the best course of action. Though, truthfully, most of them probably thought he was waking them up unbearably early to be cruel. He didn’t much care what his reputation was though.

Swiveling his head around, Ciceroth watched Onyth with swirling blue-green eyes. His tail gave a slight twitch, the only indication of his feelings aside from his eyes, and he crooned in response. Mostly. Your movements are very efficient – but more catered to a green or a blue; larger dragons have trouble with that fluidity of movement. When we were learning, we were taught to take off at an angle. More like this – And with that, Ciceroth spread his wings and vaulted himself up into the air – much like Onyth’s ascension. Only, instead of the quicker movements, he abruptly turned to the side, flying at an angle that would probably have made most people’s riders sick – totally on his side at first and then upward with quick wing beats. After a moment, he swirled down above the tree tops, speaking to each of the wing in kind. Like that. Onyth’s take-off would work for smaller dragons as well though. Would everyone please take off as you’ve seen demonstrated?

[tarra]

Restaints. How very...interesting. Ar'ren's gaze betrayed only the slightest hint of a flicker, his private thoughts shared only between Ysaloth and himself. The brown, still attending to the proceedings with light, measured glances, prompted his rider by a soft touch of the mind. Ka'rys was not out to hurt them, it said; if he were they would be dead meat already. His rider returned with a decided dose of doubt, but not the sort that would indicate he was closed to any further comments his dragon might pose. That was the way of communication between the pair: instinct and harmony over needless words that ate time in a fray. Ysaloth took the opening his rider had left.

He did not ask us to demonstrate, he noted, That speaks in itself.

A good point. Ar'ren made no offer to express amusement as Iskierka stepped up, though his mirth echoed in his dragon's mind: a Benden rider, that one was, and it pleased him inordinately that it should be a Bendenite who was chosen for such a demonstration. Unlike certain others (that young female bluerider, for one - what was her name again? Katar, yes, thank you Ysaloth), he had not chosen to make a 'transfer' to Selenitas, and so the thought of what might happen when he met his old enemies in peace had not figured largely in his considerations. Not until recently, at least. There were so many such transfers here that it was impossible to miss running into them, and the skittishness it had inspired at first still lingered in his mind. The brownrider was not a man given to being jittery, but having been a soldier for so long he now found he had no protocols to guide him in relating to these people. And his natural aversion to disloyalty was hardly helping (even if, strictly speaking, he hadn't been all that loyal to the R'anatar administration himself).

Not that anyone need know his thoughts on such, of course. He kept his attention, practised and consistent, on Ka'rys's impending demonstration, leaving only his usual stoic mask for the interpretation of those around him. Ka'rys passed out rope and set them to tying their own knots, and he complied without thinking too much: overhand knots were so simple he could have tied one blind. He looped the ropes through twice as instructed, keeping them light and trying not to think too much on what he would look like stuck in them. This would not be the first rope-escape drill he had been in, though it was certainly the most tense one he could recall. Sweat lipped down his hands as he finished, and he wiped them on his leggings to keep his palms as dry as might be. The day was beginning to warm, and like Ka'rys he hoped they would not be here too long.

Ysaloth turned as Ciceroth addressed them, his attentiveness a mirror of his rider's as he heard out the bronze's orders. Amusement flared in his mind at the knowledge it was the other Benden dragon who had been asked to demonstrate as well, then sobered as he noted that the reverse might happen next. For all they knew, it would be the ex-Fortians who were asked to do so next. Ar'ren echoed his sentiments without looking back at him, and the pale brown observed politely as Onyth took to the skies. It was nothing he didn't know already, and he had his own ways of making a route up without being shredded from behind. Being smaller than average had its advantages, even if his bulky frame meant he appeared less agile than other dragons his size. No matter how one looked at it, larger wingspans were always easier to target, if only because they were so much bigger a target. He flexed his wings as Ciceroth made his comments, guessing ahead at what they would be asked to do next; the sails had long mended over, and though they were still not at a hundred percent efficiency, they were nearly there.

Though of course, both Ciceroth and Onyth had the advantage of space: Ysaloth knew well that the dynamics of a single dragon taking off was not the same as a whole pack going up from the same general area at once. Aiming to leap ahead of the flock, he spared Ciceroth a pulse of assent and then pounced upwards with a downwards drive of wings and enough force to clear him from the medium-height trees. Outlying tall trees were still a concern at this height, but there weren't any nearby. His actions as he cleared the treetops mirrored that of the big bronze's: a sharp angled turn to the left, placing him almost on his side, then an equally sharp bank right, talons held ready if he had to flip on his back suddenly to meet talons coming from above. He had taken care to try and fly clear of the rising dragons; but seriously, let those rising below watch out that they did not fly up into a collision with him. They would simply meet his talons if they did.

He angled out as he reached Ciceroth's height and began to circle, awaiting further instructions. He had left his rider on the ground - that was not a pleasant thought, but orders were orders, and if anything happened Ar'ren could take care of himself for a minute or two until he was back down and getting them both into between. He hoped.

[Rei]

Elysia’s eyes tracked Ka’rys and Iskierka and a not so pleasant smile sprang to her lips. Poor Iskierka. That’s what she got for being so arrogant all the time. Her attention fixed back on the bronzerider as he spoke. The offered rope was taken with a slight nod and she fixed her attention on the instructions doing her level best to comply with what was asked of her. Perfection. That was what the greenrider held herself to and so it was with purpose that she moved the ropes to knot them as bidden.

No pulling the overhand knot tight. She repeated it dutifully over and over and nodded to herself as she complied with her leader’s orders. There that should be sufficient. The perfectionist in her wanted to redo it however and so she re-preformed the instructions a couple times before she was satisfied with it. Idly she raised her head to view Iskierka’s handiwork curious as to how it would turn out. The prospect of the bluerider failing was a interesting one. How would she measure up to Ka’rys’ critical eye. Or rather how would anyone measure up?

Onyth gave a croon to Ciceroth and brushed his mind in understanding. She watched the bronze pull off the maneuver with interest and circled again before performing a like maneuver in the air. Yes she liked that one as well. The green was pleased that she had performed well. Turning her head downwards she brushed her mind encouragingly against the rest of the wing. They could do it. Ysaloth was watched warily, the green not liking the Fortian brown one bit. She didn’t comment one bit nor brush his mind as she did the others. Trust was something he would have to work harder than the others to gain.