It is the Tenth Pass, and Thread falls for every Weyr to fight, save for one. Equinox, the prodigal child of Pern, has little to offer the world, or so the Conclave would have one believe.
For in the Wastes, a man must be sharp in wit and in blade, as too much can go wrong in the grey.
With the understandable resignation of the ill Weyrleader (and the less-commendable stepping down of the healthier Weyrwoman), the Weyr is in complete disarray. With five Turns until the end of the Pass, the Weyr needs a strong leader to bring it into peace.
In the Interval, men forget their duty to the Weyrs, and such is never truer than for a home of convenience. Here, in the final days of the Pass, are some who say that the dragonmen of Equinox - and even its beholden Lords, with their ignorance of the troubles of Threadfall - are becoming a pestilence.
Will you honor man and dragon in word and deed, or will you perhaps forget the strife of four hundred Turns ago?