Lothyna
Weyrling
Shadow Dancer
Posts: 194
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Post by Lothyna on Oct 27, 2010 20:49:29 GMT -5
Savareniel froze at the voice in his head, and swallowed nervously, even as he felt Shen cheep in sorrow before she vanished back Between away, pride hurt and upset at the bigbigBIGgold for not understanding that she just wanted to look and congratulate the mother. Staying bowed for a moment more, the young Smith tried to find appropriate words and wall of his fire lizards reaction to the events. “I’m sorry, Weyrwoman, Trith, she merely wanted to congratulate you herself and watch. I wont bring her again.” He wasn’t going to point out that he knew, well and good, that he couldn’t have her on his shoulder with him, those rules held even at Fort, since he’d already put a foot wrong. But still, he was mentally wondering again about S’ren’s choice to bring him, and moved forward to the eggs in a much more subdued manner.
Moving amidst the clutch, Sav drifted towards the center, curious about the middling size Chamomile Egg which rested there, the gentle golden tone with browns and yellows soothing his mind even before he could feel it. The images on it were intriguing, too, and he could see that other eggs held markings as well. The clover-esque shapes, however, brought a small smile to his face as he gently laid a palm against the shell, being even more careful now after already setting Trith off. He felt that soothed away, though, and after a few moments realized it was the egg lulling him as he eyes slid closed briefly, basking in the sense of security for a moment. With a smile, he gently brushed the top, before stepping back. “Thank you, small one.” He mused, having needed exactly what that egg offered.
Feeling a bit stronger, he found himself drawn to the one egg which held his strongest curiosity, even though it was also, in a way, the one he wanted to see least. He could see a coffin shape against the lumpy, dark and bright shell of the Earl Grey Egg, and was reminded, again, of Z’ch and D’el. Swallowing, he closed his eyes against that memory and others, before determinedly moving forward, refusing to let that ruin the day further. Instead, he almost forced himself to lay a palm against the shell, feeling a faint thinness which startled him somewhat, and made him arch an eyebrow. “You fear, little one, behind this paper wall?” he asked, feeling uncertainty rising in his breast. Trembling, he tried once more to exert control over himself, as his shoulder blades started prickling. The weight of his sword was a comfort then, even though this was an enemy he could not see. A breath, another, and Savareniel sighed, removing his hands. “I’m sorry, small one. I don’t think you need fear, but…” He shook his head, and moved back a step.
Turning, the young journeyman let himself wander, feeling not particularly drawn or strong enough mentally for this as he observed the others on the sands. After a few minutes, though, he found himself before the Fireside Egg, and made himself stop. He was here for a reason, and like it or not, there was a chance-however small- that a dragon here would want him when it hatched. Nervously, Sav rubbed a gentle hand over the smaller egg, fingers tracing the flecking before finding the shapes on it, a small smile on his lip. The strange feel of the egg made him lose a few moments savoring the brush of it against his mind, enjoying the near-heard-purr he could imagine given the sultry feel. The conflicting balance finally proved too much, and rose, after smiling at the egg, a bit steadier. “You... I can’t wait to see you, little dragon.”
Walking away, though, proved harder than he thought, as a nearby egg made him twitch suddenly. It was the feeling of something dangerous and fun, something playful… and deadly. Stopping, Savareniel turned slowly to face the Rooibos Egg, a curious tilt to his head. Despite the warning feeling, he inched closer, moving slowly and curiously about the entire egg before stopping to face the strange gallows shape, eyes widened slightly. “Oh, my…” He mused, before stepping closer determinedly, something about the egg intriguing him strongly. Some part of the feel which inundated him as his hands came to rest on the diamond shape called to his own darker side, daredevil though it may have been, and made a tiny grip slip onto his lips. “Definitely a character… You must be one. Playful too…” He grinned, faintly.
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Oct 29, 2010 8:41:12 GMT -5
He was only a little late, but shardit all, running all the way from the docks took forever! Maybe he would benefit from choosing a profession that had him working nearer to the hatching sands until the clutch was impressed and done. If nothing else, it would keep him from appearing wet and bedraggled whenever he wanted to go somewhere fast. He'd just barely thrown on the white robes over his salt-marked body before dashing on, his wet pants underneath and moist sandals getting even wetter as he dripped onto them.
Zanalorin took his place as the last Candidate bowed, and added his own flourished bow to the line, his eyes averted from the huge golden form. "Lady Trith, mistress Weyrwoman, please forgive my arrival, but I would be happy and glad if given the chance to touch your precious eggs." He would ignore the tiniest part of himself that saw those eggs as an ill omen. They were eggs, and they held dragons. That was all he should care about, and all he'd show to the younglings and their great mother.
Rising from the bow, he waited to be acknowledged whether for good or bad, and was suddenly relieved when yet another candidate appeared later than he. An older candidate than even him, if Zan was any judge of male aging. That probably put him at the end of the age bracket for impression, and he felt a small pang of sympathy for the other latecomer. Probably his last stand then. Well, good luck to them all, right?
*****
Blast that V'taph, shard and blast him! Snarling did no good, but it made him feel better. He'd never met a man so utterly intent on having his way. The unfortunate thing, was that 'his way' meant Dackt was forced to do everything a real candidate did. He was certain the brownrider got some kind of perverse satisfaction out of seeing him squirm through chores and attend things like the touching. Punishment for getting caught, he was sure. Well soon as things settled and the clutch was over he'd give up the charade and move on to different things. Provided he was allowed to!
He'd been -this- close to missing the Touching, but like a fool, he'd waited in the -candidate quarters- where he could be easily found by his tormentor. He could just remember the imagined or not sense of glee he got from the rider when he'd been dragged down the halls, up stairs, and practically shoved out the door nearest the hatching sands. Turning to flee, V'taph had stopped him with a statement. "If you run, the big ones might eat you for disrespect. You heard the bronze." Then had grinned (rather maliciously in his opinion) and turned to walk back inside without another word.
Now, slowly turning to the gathered crowd of dragons, candidates and other people, Dackt allowed himself another brief scowl before tucking his annoyance away behind a grin, altering his appearance to one of welcome and enjoyment. Having never attended a candidate class in all his training days, he followed behind a much taller youth, and mimicked what he did. Requesting permission, eh? He could do that. Sketching a bow to the queen, the long-haired youth tried to pull out something eloquent on the fly.
"Sorry for getting here a little late. Can I ..caress your eggs?" Yeah, smooth. They'd never suspect he was anything but an idiot. He could have slapped himself with how ridiculous he'd sounded just then. "Please, great queen." He added for good measure. Better, but still awkward. Well, maybe they'd chock it up to his nerves and youth and the fact that he arrived late.
*****
Gareth watched from a greater distance than he really wanted to, perched near the back end of the queen's couch. He had to remind himself that he wasn't the father of the clutch, and that he was only given the courtesy of being as close as he was to Trith by virtue of being with her through the last clutching. Which hadn't been his either. It seemed fate was conspiring against him insofar as fathering clutches was concerned. A depressing thought for the bronze, who loved all his children.
His rider perched near the Weyrwoman, his arms lightly crossed as he watched the proceedings. K'roi felt the bronze's saddened mood, and its transference to him made him a little more dour on a day when he should have been happy. But he'd felt too much of Gareth's rage and utter sadness at what had happened to Trith during her Flight, and the big bronze still felt partially responsible for the fact that he'd been unable to do anything. No amount of coaxing or soothing would ease him until he worked himself through it, and now, simply being near the queen who was clearly on the mend was doing more for him than anything.
K'roi tried to not react as Tess suddenly made an appearance, dragging a candidate of all things onto the sands. Curious about the boy, but far more interested in the healer, he kept his face and stance carefully neutral so he wouldn't betray other emotions. After the grief of the Flight had ended, a more subtle type of remorse had filled him at what might have happened between them. Unsure as to which of them had been avoiding the other, or if it was just Weyr business that had kept him out of the infirmary, the bronzerider felt in himself a tiny sense of being flustered. Bah, he wasn't some teenager to stumble over words or emotions. This was supposed to be old hat to a rider of his age.
Smiling when she got closer, he loosened his arms and let them drop to his sides. "Morning Tess. Touching seems to be proceeding well." Yeah, keep them on easy, comfortable talking ground. Then neither of them would have the opportunity to feel embarrassed if something deeper came up in conversation accidentally.
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Post by Kristin on Oct 30, 2010 11:46:31 GMT -5
Mine! Mine! Asileth was all but dancing in excitement. Trith has allowed the candidates to come touch the eggs! Can we pleeeaaaaase go too?
K‘vin snorted while he cleaned up their little weyr – it had been getting a little too messy. Why should we go to the touching? You don‘t want me to get another dragon, do you?
Asileth growled at that. Of course not Mine! Why do you say stupid things like that? You are Mine and only Mine and maybe Toll‘s a little too. I was simply suggesting that we go because I want to see the eggs and the happy faces of the candidates while they touch them. Remember, you touched my egg. Of course Asileth remembered no such thing but K‘vin had been talking about it earlier so she had decided that she did indeed remember when Hers touched her egg for the first time.
K‘vin sighed and finished straightening his furs. Now Asileth was offended and he knew she would sulk until he let her get her way. Well he wasn‘t completely averse to the idea, it would be fun to see the faces of the candidates fill with wonder. And their weyr was clean now. Fine, darling. We‘ll go see the little ones. If Asileth had the ability to grin smugly, she would have been when her rider gave in.
As they neared the hatching sands the pair grew increasingly on edge. Neither wanted to do anything that could possibly upset Trith and thus both walked the last bit to the hatching sands. Honestly they didn‘t even know if they were allowed there, a lowly green weyrling pair.
When they entered K‘vin smiled at the sight of the candidates touching lightly, stroking or even talking to the eggs. He remembered his own experience with the eggs. Asileth‘s egg had been so colorful and beautiful and even then she had been connected to K‘ron‘s eventual brown. Oh, Mine. Don‘t you look forward to when the eggs will hatch and the younglings will come? Asileth really couldn‘t wait for it to happen. If the queen hadn‘t been in such a delicate condition, Asileth would have practically lived on the sands since the touching. The pair didn‘t go any closer to the eggs but instead stayed where they were, at the edge of the sands so they wouldn‘t disturb or be in the way of anybody.
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Trith
Moderator
Goldie McGolderson
Posts: 25
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Post by Trith on Nov 1, 2010 8:04:00 GMT -5
Trith was growing slightly more anxious as she watched the candidates move through the clutch, her dagger-sharp claws digging into the sand without conscious thought. To those few who arrived after the touching began, she peered through imperious eyes, before slowly nodding her agreement for them to proceed to the touching. Her clutch would need all the candidates they could offer, and she would make certain her children had all the choices they needed and deserved.
The Apple-Cinnamon Egg reacted to the touch with a brush of friendly enthusiasm that had a distinctly –different- flavor than the one touching it. It was nice, but this person was not for it. The White Tea Egg was overjoyed, and terribly excited to be getting attention. It almost seemed like it would bounce right out of its shell as it felt distinctly sadder when the attention was no longer on it. Right on its heels, the Darjeeling Egg emulated similar emotions, and also felt sadness when the toucher left it. For the Jasmine Egg it seemed to lift the toucher up, and even if she fell from that tightrope, she would always be caught in a warm welcoming embrace.
The Aureum Egg seemed solid and firm, however there were mental walls around it, closing the toucher out. For the Phoenix Pearls Egg, it seemed to radiate a sense of intelligence , but it was also defensive to the touch. The Black Tea Egg seemed to approve of the toucher’s sense of ‘this is who I am, take it or leave it’. It held itself aloof, but seemed inclined to keep the toucher close until he left. When the Chai Egg received attention, it seemed shyly aversive, but not unfriendly in its reclusion. The Lemongrass Egg gave a sense of being highly amused , but the Darjeeling Egg practically on top of it seemed inclined to pull everyone to itself while the Orange Zest Egg was bright and cheerfully happy to receive any and all attention.
The Ginseng Egg seemed to give an almost teasing nudge of its toucher, friendly in a friendly way. For the Aureum Egg, it seemed to close itself off from its toucher, but that wall seemed breach-able like the distance was only a façade. The Five Fairy Flower Egg was all at once friendly and bubbly, which in turn turned to curious. It then drew away as if startled, and didn’t approach again. For the Oriental Spice Egg it seemed gently flirtatious, but also accepting with an edge of protection. The Mate Egg seemed all too happy to draw its toucher in with a series of soothing waves, like it would be fine to simply fall asleep right there curled next to it.
The Chamomile Egg was swamped in the urge to not move ever, and very much invited its toucher to join it. Laziness that almost seemed contagious urged the toucher to sit down and stay a while. The Earl Grey Egg hid something beneath the fear, the barest touch of anger like needles in the mind. For the Fireside Egg it also drew the toucher in, but this sense of ease had a hidden edge to it, like the toucher should be wary for himself. As for the Rooibos Egg a blossoming sense of wickedness of the most fun kind flashed out, however it wasn’t fun necessarily intended for the toucher, oh no.
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Plot
Moderator
Deus Ex Machina
Posts: 11
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Post by Plot on Nov 2, 2010 8:24:12 GMT -5
Watching mostly unseen and blending with the happy crowd of onlookers, several people since Trith’s initial announcement, had been sending messages of their own to a hidden group of comrades. These few, marked in no way to differentiate themselves from normal Ceruleans, slowly filtered forward on some unseen signal. No more than ten in all, they waited for their time.
With the Touching proceeding so smoothly, it was quite easy to notice when a tiny gold form appeared over the sands and winged her way over to the Bigwinggold. Brillia, chattering away in a frenzy of chirps and shrieks, was clearly very agitated as she swept for Trith. The much larger gold mantled slightly, raising her wings in challenge, but the flitter overrode the warning signs and laid siege to the gold with a barrage of information and images. Sensing something deeply wrong had disturbed her, Samhara made her way over. What’s she saying? She’s too panicked to make sense of. Something about Hers and the food beasts. Try and calm her down to make sense of things. The gold shifted stance, and breathed air over the flitter still hovering and chattering before her. Hush little sister. We cannot aid Yours if you cannot tell us what has happened.[/color] The soothing waves of thought did much more for the small gold than the actual words, and soon Brillia had found a perch on Trith’s shoulder. Her tiny heart beat so fast, and she was shaking in a mixture of fear and anger that they would ever touch Hers! Hers needed help now!!!!
Trith jerked a bit as the message finally became clear, and her eyes tinged with orange. The food beasts are being attacked by three dragons that are not from Cerulean. Cut down, and carried off. Hers is there with his weyrling trying to fend them off with others of our people. Very good little sister, rest a moment before you go back, or you will be no use to Yours. The last statement was made to the tiny panting Brillia who spread out on Trith’s shoulder to catch her breath. Samhara’s face hardened into a frown as she pointed at three nearby riders. “You you, and you. Take your dragons to aid them.” From the gathered dragons, two browns and a blue peeled away, where their riders vaulted up and then they all dropped off the cliff to aid their flight towards the feeding grounds.
Almost as soon as they winged out of sight, screams arose from the nearest set of stairs leading further down into the Weyr. Several people stampeded up through the opening and dashed across the space to the sands. “There’s tunnelsnakes in the Hall!” “Oh Faranth, I saw someone bit!” “They dropped crates full of the things and ran for the docks!!” K’roi strode over to lend his assistance to Samhara, who was trying to calm someone enough to get them to speak intelligibly. Finally, a young drudge gave them the whole of the story in brief, and K’roi sent for more riders. Go and stop the intruders in the Hall from escaping on their ship. Break the mast if you have to. Aid those Ceruleans who were bit and clear the Hall. Flame the tunnelsnakes out. Gareth’s deep mindvoice relayed out to several dragons, a slow rage building in the back of the bronze’s tones, and more peeled away to do as instructed.
Suddenly, the booming thunder of grating rock echoed up from the cliff face, and one of the dragons winging over relayed this new edge of attack. Four more dragons are trying to cave in the rider weyrs! Two browns hurtling themselves against the rock, and two greens throwing boulders at the cliff! Without being told, half a dozen dragons and riders leapt for the air to try and stop the ruination of all they had worked for so far.
Shaken, Samhara went over to lay a hand on Trith’s shoulder. The gold’s eyes were tinged with red, and her frustration at not being able to help was an obvious thing. These dragons. Their minds feel the same as ..His. Chaotic and nearly unresponsive. They will not obey. “It’s alright my dear. We could not have foreseen something like this happening. No dragon has ever been able to disobey a direct order from a Queen.” The Weyrwoman tried to keep her own emotions free of the sending, but the gold picked up her anxiety and a low growl vibrated deep in her chest.
As if to mock her words, a bugle pierced the air, an alarm sounding from the watchdragon closest to the ocean. Her voice broadcast through the minds of all present. A wing of dragons incoming from the ocean. They do not answer a request to land or identify themselves. Nearly right behind the announcement, Gareth sent his own warning. Cerulean, we are under direct attack. Prepare yourselves. The call to arms set half the Weyr to panic, while it galvanized the other half into a determined mindset. These intruders wanted to destroy their new home! So close on the heel of the tragedy that sent them fleeing from their initial home, many would not give up the Weyr without a fight.
Cresting the cliff face, a full wing of dragons led by the unmistakable bronze swept low and fast, cutting through with claws and flames any dragon still struggling to get off the ground, and those who yet lingered in the air. Cerulean dragons fell wounded back to the ground, injuring those unable to get out of the way, and killing at least one, as with an agonized screech of despair a blue broke free and vanished between. The wing made another sweep, and then broke apart into relative chaos. Over half of the wing kept making strafing runs to keep the few remaining dragons grounded, while the rest made for the hatching sands, creating a veritable shield made up of dragons to keep Ceruleans from assisting. Five of those peeled away and made to land around Trith, while the hidden ones within the crowd rushed forward to aid their comrades.
Each of the five dropped two more people, evening the number of interlopers on the sands to twenty, each armed with a sword, club or whip -mostly the latter two. The riders remained mounted, and each dragon went to its task like a well choreographed dance. The bronze went immediately for Trith, while a large brown went with it to keep others from interfering. The other three, two blues and a green, headed for the clutch. The green spewed a blast of fire at a charging group of Ceruleans, setting many on fire. Screams rent the air and the smell of charred flesh rose up. The men cut into the candidate line with a vengeance, striking indiscriminately between those who fled and those who fought back. They were dirty as the dragons, with wild, red-rimmed eyes and fiendish grins or scowls on their faces. Then three of them snatched up the nearest egg, the Aureum Egg and tucked it into a carry pouch strapped to the chest of the nearest blue. Each pouch only looked like it would carry two eggs, but from the dragons overhead, many also wearing such pouches, it was clear they were there for the entire clutch.
Each dragon was equally as dirty and unkempt in appearance as the great bronze, who even then was squaring up with a frantic Trith. Her eye where whirling nearly pure red and yellow now, her wings flared in an attempt to appear imposing as both her antagonist and his lackeys placed her children in danger. The bronze began forcing his powerful will on her, forcing her down in a mimicry of the disastrous Goldflight. If he could subdue their Queen, the hated males of Cerulean would yield to threats. The brown faced the two enraged bronzes closest to the clutch, and it was clear he’d do whatever necessary to keep them at bay long enough for his leader to gain control of the queen, despite what would obviously happen when a single brown faced two large bronzes.
Of a sudden, the sands were filled with fairs and fairs of flitters in all colors, lead by the victoriously crowing Brillia and several other flitters of the Weyr. At the first sign of what these -others- were there for, she'd disappeared with the intent of bringing her own kind of assistance. They wouldn’t take the bigeggs, no!! Those were the bigwinggold’s eggs, they were!! The flitters went for the attackers on the clutch with a vengeance, scratching where they could, and spewing tiny flames. They didn’t or couldn’t bring themselves to attack the dragons, but their riders were fair game. Another set of three men handled the Fireside Egg nearly into the carry sack beside its clutchmate while the blue’s rider fended off enraged firelizards. The blue bucked in reaction to his rider’s distress, preventing the securing of the last egg, which was nearly dropped before the men had firm hold of it once more. They waited for the blue to settle while the other men worked to clear the hatching sands of combatants made up of both candidates and not, who’d managed to slip through to help. Two of those figures were Samhara and K'roi, Weyrwoman and previous Weyrleader fighting for their Weyr.
OOC Alert: A full wing of dragons is attacking the hatching sands, their intent to steal the clutch. Twenty men armed with swords, clubs and whips are driving back attackers to give them space to work, while less than half of the wing is hovering around the sands in a chaotic whirl of wings to keep other dragons and humans out. The others are strafing in to keep the few remaining Cerulean dragons grounded.
Each dragon is armed with firestone, and they're ready to use whatever means necessary to succeed.
Everyone is now free to react to all plot posts happening throughout the Weyr. Be aware, these men are dangerous, but lack finesses and are swinging wildly. They are clearly not trained, but strong. Kill them at your leisure. Feel free to have the flitts aid in whatever way necessary to 1. Keep your characters safe or 2. Help you take someone down
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Lothyna
Weyrling
Shadow Dancer
Posts: 194
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Post by Lothyna on Nov 2, 2010 9:39:16 GMT -5
It was a move he would have reamed any of his wing for, or any rider for that matter, and grounded them instantly. But it was a move that would save time and lives. Dysiiliouth’s wings had snapped open with barely enough room to arrow him towards the clearest edge, where V’ton was already running, paws almost scraping the sand beneath him. As Dysiiliouth flapped once, raising a dust storm at the entrace even as V’ton leapt, catching a huge claw, and swung himself nimbly atop the paw. As Dysiiliouth sped out the opening, V’ton grabbed hold of his perch, and ordered the bronze to gather the wing, as well as hit the docks. As the pair winked out, Dysiiliouth’s voice rang through the minds of his wing. ~Gather, Wing members! Browns and Bronzes to the Sky after those destroying the Weyr! Greens, Blues, group on the herds! Riders, arm yourself and your dragons. Flame! That is an –order-![/color]
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As the bronze rider pulled a stunt that was rather appreciative a technique, Vladisyana and Haverisen spun to face eachother. “Tag-team?” Syana asked, even as she spotted the child in the stands, eyes widening somewhat. As she snapped her fingers, calling the dogs over from the edge before the bronze could surround them in a storm of dust, her brother nodded and drew his sword. Pulling the pups into the stands, she ran to the girl, and shoved them towards her. “Guard! Friend!” She snapped. “Guard!” She ordered again, before turning, knowing that the pups would keep the child safe.
As Haverisen waited impatiently, Syana ran back over, before both Trader kin ran for the doors, Syana’s sword sliding free with a musical ring from it’s sheath. She knew they might face trouble later for drawing steel on the hatching Sands, but she didn’t have time to waste. Nor, really, did Haverisen, who ran easily at her side. Given their training, both siblings knew well how to work together, and years on the road had made that a strong habit-thus they went for a fight where they would be needed. Both set dove into the crowd, back to back with eachother, blades sliding through the riders as their prominent targets, aiming to get at the dragons trying to steal their eggs.
Heading for the loaded blue, Syana leapt towards it’s side, trusting her brother to keep her safe in their endeavor to save the eggs first. The others would have to deal with the dragons and riders, her priorities were being stolen from their very sands. Together, the two were working their way over, determined to get there before the blue could leave and somehow get the harness removed so the eggs were safe.
~~~~~~~~
Training and habit took over, despite the desire to stare at a boy, young man really, that was certainly appealing, and quite comical in his actions. Before he’d even comprehended fully why he was doing so, Savareniel had whistled a summons to his green fire lizard-warning from Trith forgotten. Racing with the others towards the encroaching mass, he drew both sword and dagger, heading for an area where he knew there would be need.
He could see the others around him reacting-and wished they had more fighters among them, even as he locked blades with one of the men and ducked a ham-handed seconds’ swing of a club. “You.” Swing. “Sharding.” Duck. “Imbeciles!” Lunge. Parry, twist, and there, dead man down number one, time for a new target. He was aware of al the other dragons outside, and wondered privately if Cerulean would even survive this. At his side, Shen screamed in rage and started attacking with the fair of firelizards, willingly listening to Brilla. Her’s could handle this easily enough.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Toomuchtoomuchtoomuch. She was going insane with the pressure in her head, the screams and chaos. Rocking into a ball, Selene ducked into the tiny corner she had, all else forgotten for several long minutes-long enough for the bronze to go for the queen, before she could sort out what was her and what was not. Shaking, in reaction, fear, and rage, the tiny girl nearly screamed at the overwhelming events occurring.
Curling up with a whimper in the stands, Selene crouched where she could still see the doors, eyes wide in terror. Now she knew why she had had the dreams, and what had come of them. Now she saw a connection between the bronze who attacked poor Trith and those outside. Now she feared for her life. She had a feeling they would come here, come for the eggs, and she was no fighter. The thought of what could happen sent shivers down her spine, as tears streaked down her cheeks. As the one lady-candidates, Syana, she thought, two dogs came to her sides, Selene clung to them, accepting their licks and whining with them, even as they settled about her, all three facing the door, though she knew the dogs would attack anything that came her way now.
A stricken glance to Trith made her tremble again, fear wracking the young girls body as she then looked to the eggs, so defenseless at this moment. What if something happened to them, just now ready for a touching, soon to hatch? How could they possible recover if something stole them? And she feared that more than the eggs being hurt, given that she’d overheard how the bronze had purposely made it a long flight, and large clutch, and then thrown Trith with the intent to ground her permanently-yet leave her able to clutch.
Unable to take it, she screamed at the bronze attacking Trith, all the emotion she felt powering her voice. ”Leave her ALONE![/b]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never, ever, would anyone have expected the change that occurred in the space of a few seconds, the space of time just after the announcement faded from the air. The healers’s kit previously held in hand hadn’t even spun into the sand at the base of the wall before Miko’s hair was bound into a tail and a knife in his teeth and hand, eyes clear with barely contained rage. The stumbling grace was gone as he darted to the only accessible entrance, determined to protect Trith, Samhara, the Eggs, and Selene, whom he knew was having problems.
A lethal intensity had seated itself in the dragon healers’ eyes, turning the orbs that previously held sly amusement into blocks of ice. Scanning the horizon, he stayed just far enough back that no one could drop on him from above, eyes darting at the slightest movement. Selene couldn’t possibly protect herself or get somewhere safer, and he had a hunch that someone wanted to cause pain, as much as possible. And the best way he could find, aside from the horrors unleashed, was to steal or kill the eggs behind them. With Trith bound to the ground still, (though formidable even so) he felt every reason to stay.
The future lay behind him, hidden inside hardening shells, and more precious than any treasure-for they were the hope of the Weyr.
Facing the crowd, a slightly evil laugh leapt from his lips, before the healer dove into the fray willingly, striking rarely but on target, using his knowledge to take people down and out-though more often than not, not dead, just immobile or incapacitated.
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Lothyna
Weyrling
Shadow Dancer
Posts: 194
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Post by Lothyna on Nov 2, 2010 9:39:52 GMT -5
Under the cover of smoke, a large bronze burst into the air above the sands, oddly silent, and faintly reeking of firestone. He was pale as the setting sun, which only helped hide him in the light he chose at the angle he entered. Pausing for a second to scan the scene, he snarled, quietly, and felt his bonded fighting. The shared feel of blades slicing flesh-granted by the bond with V’ton, just made him angrier. That was nothing, however, compared to the rage inside the bronze that dragons would dare to attack riders and even more, innocents such as lived in the Weyr. Eyes turning almost solid red, Dysiiliouth welcomed V’ton’s mind into his as he plotted his attack, drawing on the knowledge in his bonded’s mind.
Turning slightly, he performed a tight wing-over, dropping at an angle towards the brown daring to keep the bronzes at bay from saving their queen again.. With the wind whistling over his pinions, Dysiiliouth made a few minor adjustments to the lay of his sails, striving for speed as well as silence, tracking the progress as the brown drew back from the cliff again. He knew that unless he got a lucky strike in he was going to be in for a claw and tooth to claw, tooth, and flame battle with the other dragon. He hated, instinctively, the thought of killing another dragon-but these were of the same ilk as the bronze who had dared to defile their queen so.
The angle gave him plenty of chance to do something that once, would have been the blackest heresy, but on a day as shadowed as this, was one of the few options. As he readied himself to do something so alien, but so necessary, the great bronze felt his bonded’s joint sorrow at killing again, and shared comfort and rage with him as he received it. There! His angle was as good as it would be, and the wind would protect him from his own weapon.
The silent manuever was one that was meant for war, and aided by the thoughts of his, who had firmly seated their minds together for the battle. Already he could feel the current beyond the brown he’d have to catch with a wing if he didn’t want to fumble himself. It would mean he was vulnerable for a moment, yes, but the greens were too low to stop him, and the blue was just as tangled in the stealing of –their- clutch. He should have enough time to gain more height for a second pass after making contact…
He felt V’tons agreement as he cut someone down, pausing briefly to see through Dysiiliouths eyes to aid him, and shifted his course one last time, feeling time stop briefly, in the single second when everything changed. Flame burst forth from his maw in lieu of a battle-cry as he dove, eyes speeding in reds, oranges, and yellows. Then, the information from his brought true rage to the bronze, who barely remembered to aim flame –away- from the clutch as he passed the message to the entire Weyr. Cerulean! They are our past! Silver Cove has attacked!
While it was possible his target would see, there was little room to react to the speeding claws and flame, as for the first time…
Dragon aimed to kill dragon.
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Thorney
Dragonrider
Let's remove the space between me and you.
Posts: 203
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Post by Thorney on Nov 2, 2010 10:41:20 GMT -5
Everything was pandemonium. Chaos. Too much to even process. Raelwyn felt her hands close over her mouth, attempting to hold back the sorrow that she felt like screaming into the skies. They were attacking Cerulean, her home! The girl choked back a sob and fought to gain control of herself, even as her heart gave a great wrench. How dare they! Standing on shaky legs, the harper watched Trith and Samhara with worried eyes, fearing that this would be all it took to send the queen back into the dark and silent state she had slipped into after her disastrous Flight. She wanted to help, but the candidate knew that she had no combat skills, no means with which to help defend the weyr. She was useless. Hands fisting in her skirts as even more riders left the sands, Raelwyn tried to calm her two flits, their minds a jumble of panic and fury as they sensed the chaos that emanated from her and the dragons. However, neither the bronze nor the brown could be soothed, sent into a near frenzy by Brillia’s panic. Letting out a breath, the girl began to make her way to the stands where the two sat, intent upon attempting to reassure them that everything was going to be fine. The riders would win this fight.
However, before she had even taken two steps, Gareth’s mighty voice rang in her head, and the candidate whirled, watching with widening eyes as the wing of dragons shot towards the hatching sands, led by the filthy, dirty beast that had attacked Trith. For a moment, the harper’s legs turned to stone, and she couldn’t move, could only stare in horror as she realized where his destination lay.
They were coming for the eggs.
They swept through Cerulean dragons easily, and Raelwyn watched the mighty guards fall from the sky, grief tearing at her heart. The sight set her blood on the fire, and the harper felt an emotion inside that had rarely visited her heart before. Hate. She hated those men, hated them for what they did to Trith and what they were doing to her home. Fisting her hand, the girl set her jaw and began to charge at the nearest attacker, feeling no regard for her own safety. He was approaching one of the eggs, and she wasn’t about to let him get it. Not if she could help it. As he saw her approach, the man smirked sadistically and raised his club, obviously not thinking her to be much of a threat. With an uncharacteristic growl, Raelwyn was about to throw herself at him when her two flits burst from between right before her, all snarls and angry, whirling red eyes. Tydus and Cloud launched themselves at the stranger, her bronze clawing at the man’s face while her brown went straight for his eyes. The man tried to bat at them with his club, but they were too small and far too fast, and they were pissed.
Cloud, with a hiss, made a bloody mess of the man’s right eye, and Raelwyn saw her opportunity. Darting forward, she did the first thing that came to mind. She kicked him as hard as she could right in the crotch. With a groan, the attacker fell, and harper did something she never had before. Gathering every bit of strength she had in her, the girl kicked him solidly in the head, hoping that at least stunned him enough to keep him out of the fight for a long time. But really…she had a feeling he wasn’t going to get up again. Ever. Swallowing, trying to come to terms with what she had just done, Raelwyn let out a strangled gasp as another attacker grabbed her by the throat, eyes wild as he stared at her cruelly. He squeezed, and the harper clawed at his hand, but to no avail. But he wasn’t about to get the best of her. Tydus and Cloud shrieked with rage and dive-bombed the man, calling for the help of their brethren as they did. Another brown and a green peeled off from the main fair of flits and winged to their side, hissing and crowing as they attacked the stranger viciously. He quickly dropped Raelwyn as he used both hands to try to fend off the firelizards, but they couldn’t be struck. As they attacked, the harper glanced around quickly to try to find something to fight with. Without warning, another candidate appeared before her, a boy by the name of Elric if she remembered correctly, and handed her a small dagger, a knowing look in his eyes. Nodding to him, the girl took the weapon with numb fingers, realizing that she just might have to use it. She and the four flits were going to defend the clutch, no matter what.
Darting forward with some instinctive move within her, Raelwyn forced down her nausea as she struck the man in the chest with the sharp, wicked dagger Elric had given her. It was a crude move, but an effective one, as he abruptly stopped fighting and slumped to the sands, red staining his dirty shirt. She had killed two men. She had killed two men! The candidate almost retched right there, but she forced her bile down, forced herself to realize that it was necessary. Tydus and Cloud hovered near her, as did the other brown and green. Apparently they had decided to stick close and help them. Raelwyn steeled herself as she moved forward again, hand tightening around the dagger as she found another target. As she did, a bronze voice echoed in her head, and the candidate nearly fell from shock. Silver Cove?!? How was that possible? Fire erupted above her as the bronze streaked through the sky, flaming the attackers, and the girl steeled herself and leapt at another man, the four flits diving with her. How could they do this? How COULD they?
~~~~~
Straightening from where he had kneeled beside one of the eggs, Elric’s eyes narrowed as he watched the events around him unfold. Men and dragons took to the air, each peeling off in a different direction as they went to aid those set upon by the strangers. The boy was about to offer his assistance to K’roi as he had quite a bit of combat experience when Gareth gave his mighty call, and the candidate’s black gaze settled coldly on the approaching wing. Elric had not been in Cerulean long, but they had taken him in, given him a new goal and a new life, and it was his home now. The only home he had left, and he wasn’t about to see it destroyed. Chaos erupted, but he was calm, steely, and prepared to do what he must to keep Cerulean safe. One dagger rested in his boot, but the candidate stood still, far more skilled in hand-to-hand combat than anything. In addition, he thought it best the keep the blade as a hidden weapon, in the instance he needed a surprise in the middle of the battle. As the three dragons approached, flaming a large group of men, Elric darted to the side, dancing out of the way of the fire. As he did, he came face to face with one of the attackers keeping the Cerulean fighters at bay, and the boy flexed his hands.
Time to go to work.
The man raised his whip, but he lacked finesse in his style, and Elric swung to the side to avoid the lash. Whirling, the candidate backstepped and then darted forward, grabbing the man’s arm in a vice-like grip before he could crack the whip again. With a skill born of practice, the boy twisted the attacker’s arm down and around, effectively turning him and pressing his arm against his lower back. For a moment, the runner found himself hesitating to do what needed to be done, but he glanced up and saw how the strangers cut through his fellow candidates without remorse, and Elric felt his resolve harden. These men had brought this upon themselves, and they deserved no mercy. Pressing the man’s arm painfully against his body, the candidate drove him down the ground, his knee in the stranger’s back, and then jerked his head suddenly, breaking the attacker’s neck. The boy felt his gut wrench as he heard the snap of bone, but he knew there was nothing to stop this. They had started this battle, and no one in Cerulean could show mercy if they were to win.
And he wouldn’t either. Rising fluidly, feeling something dangerous coil within him, Elric stepped toward the next attacker with the grace of a stalking feline, smoothly avoiding the first swing of a club with a sure, poised side-step, and then struck. One hand clasped around the wrist of the man, twisting until he felt a snap, and then he struck again with his other hand, this time driving the heel of his palm against the attacker’s nose with all of the strength and rage within him. The fight took all of five seconds, and the stranger slumped to the ground, blood pooling on his face. The candidate stood only long enough to take one steadying breath, and then he was moving again, his eyes catching sight of girl being held by the throat. Darting forward, Elric was intent upon helping her until the four flits attacked, quite effectively doing it for him. For a moment, the boy stared at her, watching the fire in her eyes, and knew that she could fight if she had to. If she had a weapon. Without a word, he slid his dagger from his boot and handed it to her, not waiting even a moment before he was gone again.
Engaging another attacker, the candidate tried to concentrate fully upon the battle as the bronze’s voice cried in his head, bringing forth a sick feeling within his stomach. Elric had heard the stories of Silver Cove, just as everyone else had, and could only try to keep his mind off it. Why would they do this? He knew that they had been driven to madness, but to do something of this magnitude? How had they survived, how had they planned so carefully? Narrowing his eyes, the boy ignored those questions, ignored the heaviness in his body and ice in blood as he killed the man before him. That was three, now. Elric had minor cuts and bruises across his arms, but there was no serious damage, and he knew that he was a far better warrior than any of these men. Hopefully, they ended this before any more Cerulean men or dragons got hurt. They needed to end it now! Darting forward, light and quick, Elric engaged two more of the attackers, intent on ending them as well.
~~~~~
There was so much going on, Keiko almost felt dizzy as she tried to take it all in. Just what the Fall was happening? The whole weyr was reporting strange occurrences and attacks taking place all across Cerulean. Crossing her arms, the girl chewed on her bottom lip, worry gnawing at her as she eyed everyone about. This was not good, this was SO not good! For a moment, she considered going back to the barracks to make sure Jazzy was safe, but she soon found herself unable to move. The wing of dragons approached quickly, and Gareth’s words made her whole body turn cold and numb at once. Attacked? Cerulean? With a strangled cry, the candidate stumbled back a few steps, eyes wide and terrified as she watched the utter pandemonium descend upon the sands. Men and dragons swarmed about, dirty and disgusting but petrifying, and Keiko shrieked, glancing wildly about for V’ton. He, of course, had already joined the fight, and she was on her own. She couldn’t get out, and she couldn’t call for help. There was no one to help her. Taking a deep breath, the girl crouched down behind one of the larger eggs, hoping to hide until she found a way to get out.
As she did, her terrified mind screamed at her to run, but her heart called her a coward, a weakling. Squeezing her eyes shut, the candidate tried to ignore it, tried to reason with herself. She couldn’t fight! She was just some eighty pound girl who only knew how to paint and draw and make herself pretty; she wasn’t a warrior. But…she was supposed to be. She was here because she had been Searched, had been deemed perhaps worthy of a dragon, of holding something within that made her fit to be a rider. Riders weren’t cowards. Riders battled Thread without batting an eye, and Riders did what they had to in order to keep the people they served safe. Keiko was supposed to be a Rider someday.
But she wasn’t acting like one now.
With a strangled cry, the girl grabbed at her rings and bracelets, ripping them off viciously, quickly followed by her necklaces and little pins too. Rid of her baubles, Keiko stood, swallowing as she saw the carnage before her. She wanted to puke, but she could do that later. Right now, she had to start acting like a rider. It was amazing how it had taken something so monumental to make her grow up just a little bit, but that didn’t matter. At least she had finally answered the call of her deeper heart. “Oh Faranth…this is like, gonna suck.” The candidate whispered, then began running forward, throwing herself at the nearest attacker. His back was to her, so she jumped on him, wrapping her arms around his throat and trying to scratch at his face with one hand. With an angry curse, the man grabbed one of her arms and pulled her before him easily, her slight weight nothing to him in his enraged and insane state. He raised his club, and Keiko thrashed wildly, but she couldn’t loosen his grip. Suddenly, the attacker was surrounded by firelizards of nearly every color, each one of them clawing, biting or even flaming to get him to relent.
Dropping the girl, he whirled and swung his club haphazardly, trying to fend them off, but the flits were stubborn. Shaking her head, Keiko struggled to her feet and stared in surprise at the little creatures that had saved her life. They were so small, but they had helped. They were not afraid. That, more than anything, gave the candidate deeper insight to the world, and she knew then that she had matured even a bit more. It didn’t matter what happened to her…but she was going to help. Once again, she threw herself at the man, and this time, she knocked him down, knowing that he was already unbalanced from trying to spin and fend off the attacking flits. As he fell, his cracked his head upon the ground, and she and the flits backed up, the girl putting a hand to her mouth. “We, like, killed him!” Keiko whispered, but one of the bronzes darted before her, chittering warningly. “Right…we gotta help.” She said resolutely, and followed the firelizards as they darted off towards another attacker. She only hoped Jazzy was safe in the barracks.
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Kira
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Evil Mod of DOOM!!!!!
Posts: 266
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Post by Kira on Nov 4, 2010 1:25:24 GMT -5
Tess had given K'roi a careful smile as he spoke. "Going well, yes. That one was a bit, er...shy," she said with a cough, motioning to Miko. She was very obviously lying, but equally obviously amused by it. Especially with the urge to giggle at 'Miko' and 'shy' being put in the same sentence. Ever. Everything seemed to be going rather well, even when some Candidate asked to...caress...the egg. She had to swallow a laugh over that one. She was always amazed by the way the Candidates' eyes lit up as they touched the eggs - especially for the first time. She was beginning to finally relax again, a smile playing at her lips, when little Brillia flitted in - and all Fall broke loose. Some were sent off to defend the herds, then even more down to the Hall, and more again off to the cliffs. She felt the tremor as the boulders were dropped again. She took a sharp intake of breath, then turned to K'roi with a look of horror before making to rush off the Sands to go lend her aide. There were definitely going to be people that needed her down there! Her progress was halted, however, when the rogue Wing swept in overhead and dropped down in on them. They swirled so thick they almost blocked out the rays of the sun... Tess rushed forward as the others did, ready to take her place in defending her Weyr. In all honesty, while she could handle a bit of tussling and she knew some good techniques to get away from an attacker, she wasn't all that keen with actual fighting. She caught a slash from a whip on one of her arms, just barely breaking skin, but she just hissed out something that sounded suspiciously like a swear and ignored it for the moment being. Jaser had other ideas, calling a few of his brethren to assist him in making certain that stupiduglyMALE would never be able to hurt His again. Finally making it close enough to one of the men who was jerking a girl around by the wrist, she aimed a punch. He moved his head to the side to dodge and she gave a dark smile - she wasn't aiming for his head. He soon found himself gasping and letting go of the girl when Tess's fist collided with his windpipe. He fell down, but before Tess could decide on her next move the previously hindered girl had leapt forward with a snarl, clawing at the larger man and growling nonsense at him. Well, apparently she was angry. Quickly moving on so as not to get between the two, Tess saw another Candidate knocked away by a nasty blow. Barreling into the man and shoving, she just managed to stop him from getting a downward blow at the boy already writhing in pain. He reared back a fist and punched her, making her vision swim for a moment. While she had never been hit quite that hard before, she had been the victim of the limbs of flailing and defensive patients before and when she was focused it was easier to regain her senses. The next blow he aimed was with his club, hitting her in the ribs along one side. She quickly retaliated by grabbing onto his wrist before it could be retracted and pressing down on a joint there. ...Which did almost nothing. What the...? The move itself was very painful, and often would bring a grown man to his knees if enough pressure was applied. Fall, with enough pressure it could break the wrist...but the man simply tore his arm away as if he didn't feel it. That was when she truly took a moment to really see his face. It nearly made her vomit in apprehension. She'd seen eyes like that before. Wide, dilated, bloodshot...and completely and utterly mad. That was why they hit so hard, and fought so single-mindedly, and didn't react as well to pain... A voice sounded in her head, confirming the connection she had just made. The madness of Silver Cove Weyr had come back to haunt them. She knew she had frozen too long, and tried to prepare herself as he rushed again. Luckily, he was tackled by someone from Cerulean before he managed to get his hands on her. She pushed aside the thought of the pain she was going to be in later, adrenaline thankfully masking it for now, and dashed over to the fallen Candidate from before. Picking him up by the shoulders of his tunic, she quickly dragged him back away from the melee so that she might be able to tend him before she was really needed. .o0O0o. Tiieh had been sent to find safety by Hers, but...she couldn't seem to find it anywhere. After almost getting roasted in search of her golden mother, she instead reatreated over to little Selene, curling up in her neck and ignoring all the bigwingbaddies and the bigbignoisesthathurt and the bigscaryfuzzythings near Hers'slittletwoleg. Hers was her safe place, but if she couldn't be there...then here was second best. Shivering, she let out a small keening noise. .o0O0o. Brillia chirped imperiously at the assorted flitters, directing them this way and that. NO ONE hurt the bigeggs! She knew what Hers and Herbigwingbrown thought of the bigeggs, and she knew what she would have done if anyone had tried to steal HER preciouseggs. Snarling shrilly, she launched herself at one of the humans, scraping his scalp with her sharp little claws and grabbing onto a hank of hair and tugtugtugging! RAWR!
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Rouxy
Cerulean Weyr Staff
Rouxy of the Jungle
Posts: 345
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Post by Rouxy on Nov 4, 2010 9:01:29 GMT -5
Glad he'd been accepted so readily, he had just reached the clutch to touch the eggs when the alarms began rising over the Weyr. Shardit, what was happening? First that clutchmother of Angel arrives to chatter in Trith's face -something Zan was certain he'd never do to the proddy gold- and then another dragon shouting about other dragons and suddenly a lot of dragons swept over the cliff from the ocean, cutting through Cerulean dragons like they were chaff. Horrified, the ex-dolphineer watched as dragons went between as their riders were crushed by the falling bulks of their comrades. It was madness!
Then the enemy -and that's how he'd think of them always now- dropped people to the sands and suddenly the candidates were in the thick of it. He saw some rush forward while others rushed back. Torn between a very real desire to stay alive, and an unbidden surge of loyalty that wasn't there before, Zan moved back a bit until he was within the clutch itself. This wasn't his fight. He was here only because of his brother. It wasn't his home... he couldn't be expected to defend it to the death like some of the others. But then he saw one of the other candidates, a cute girl hiding as he was among the clutch. Keiko, he remembered. She suddenly launched herself at one of the attackers, that small scrap of a girl, and Zan felt ashamed for one of the first times in his life. Ashamed that the much smaller girl could eventually bring herself to fight when he, no weakling and a man at that, lacked the courage to do the same. A heavy scowl came to his features, and his hand found the dagger at his hip, a gift from a father who thought his current occupation a worthless waste of time.
He was suddenly on his feet, his eyes on Keiko, and Angel, the beautiful little darling, appeared out of nowhere to join the battle at his side, calling in flitters with a sharp command to protect Hers. She curled around his neck, and placed her eyes on his back as if they'd rehearsed it. Drawing the dagger, he raced into the fray trailing a line of firelizards drawn in by the bitter sweet chattering of the green on his shoulder. A sudden urge to protect filled him as he saw another attacker going for the small girl, and he launched forward with a roar, his dagger flashing as he caught the downwards swing of the enemy sword a glancing blow off the side of his hilt, effectively turning the blow which would have harmed her. He followed the wild-eyed man's swing with one of his own, darting low and slicing deep with a lightning quick swipe. The man hardly seemed to notice the blood dashing to the sands as he continued the attack, the air around him wild with flitters trying to get at him.
*****
Dackt sidestepped a blow with ease, his face all a-scowl. What in Faranth's name had happened to the peaceful Weyr he'd tried to join? He'd seen runner stations with less movement and chaos. The attacker before him faltered back, the blow with the butt end of his whip falling wide as the smaller youth used the opportunity to step inside his defense and quickly snag the attacker's arm, pivoting on his heel as he threw the man bodily against the ground, the resounding cracking noise a clear indicator that he was unlikely to get up again.
Snagging the whip, Dackt swore aloud and colorfully yet again that he didn't have his weapons with him other than two throwing knives. He'd gotten used to being able to handle whatever situation arose without needing more. Little scuffles and the like. This was no scuffle, it was all out war. The man at his feet actually tried to get up and Dackt quickly reached for his head, jerking fiercely with an audible snap as he broke the neck.
Taking a note from his previous attacker, Dackt swung the unfamiliar weapon butt-end first and clubbed two nearby men with enough force to momentarily stun them. His smaller size wasn't an advantage in this fight, where dragging an opponent down would work best, but he made do as he launched for the back of one, the hidden compartment in his larger knife open and a silvery wire drawn taught between the knife handle and a smaller piece. He quickly tightened the garrote wire around the man's neck, cutting off his air and crushing his windpipe with almost cruel efficiency.
*****
Gareth was beyond enraged. He eyes were red pools of hate as he roared at the male forcing the queen to the sands. Rising to his hind feet to dispatch the brown who thought to get in his way, a bronze flash did the favor for him as the brown did so ungainly a thing as tumble end over end away from the clutch and nearly to the cliff edge. Seeing the way clear, the bronze leapt forward, his intentions clear.
K'roi was on the sands as the first attackers swarmed forward, weaponless. He was no fighter, but by Faranth, he would show these fiends that they wouldn't get what they wanted without a fight! He saw Samhara to his side, disarming an attacker and claiming his sword for her own. He gave her a victorious shout and then focused on the closest attacker, a man with a viciously spiked club. Dodging the first wild swing, he came in low and shot an uppercut to the man's jaw, his attention on getting the club for his own use. Another solid punch, and he was able to wrench the club out of his hand and finish the job with it. Hefting it experimentally, he was caught by surprise from behind as a line of pain blossomed over his left shoulder, another club catching him on the collar. Dropping to his knees from the sudden intense pain, he swung wildly behind him with his own club and caught his assailant at the knees, effectively halting any further attack as the man's leg shattered.
Sakki appeared from between, screaming her rage at any who would -dare- injure Hers! She launched herself at the face of the man who'd already gone down, adding her claw marks to his injuries and calling more flitters to her aid. Out of the corner of his eye, K'roi caught sight of Tess catching a club along her side, and Samhara taking a stab wound, and suddenly he was back at Silver Cove, watching Ruvna die as she fell from their weyrledge. Giving a strangled cry, he struggled to his feet and launched at the nearest, Tess, only to find that she'd dispatched her attacker before he reached her and had started dragging a candidate away from the fighting. Good, she'd be safer there, if safe weren't such a relative term at the moment. His left arm hung limp and caused pain with every move -dislocated maybe- he thought in a distracted way, and Gareth's sudden cry made him pause. The agony through their bond was magnified as the bronze attacking Trith turned his attention on Gareth, who jolted to the side like something heavy had impacted into his ribs.
Panting, K'roi could only send a warning as the other bronze took aim with his claws, and was just as suddenly flung back in a mess of wings and tail like a toy as something unseen landed him a blow. Whirling to find this new source of assistance, a familiar blue form crouched by the edge of the sands away from the fighting, his normally placid eyes whirling with red. Jaxith, sent by his rider and heavily against leaving him, was exerting his telekinetic skill -for- Cerulean in a way he never had before. The bronze wanted to abuse his abilities, then two could play that game. However, it was all the blue could do to keep the bronze back, and the slightest distraction would cause his concentration to break.
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Post by Kristin on Nov 6, 2010 19:06:41 GMT -5
Everything was going so well, Trith was happy and the candidates were all lovingly communicating with the eggs. No one had commented on K‘vin and Asileth being there and K‘vin could feel waves of excitement coming from his green. If she was like this now, what would she be like at the actual hatching? She‘d probably want to mother all the hatchlings, regardless of what Trith would think about it. It really was too bad that K‘vin was never going to have any children, Asileth would love that.
Suddenly all thoughts of younglings disappeared and instead a wave of panic overcame K‘vin and Asileth. K‘vin stood rooted on the spot for the longest time, trying to make sense of all that was happening. Cerulean was being attacked. That was about all that registered. His home was being destroyed. And they were stealing the eggs. That woke K‘vin up. Well and the fact that there was a crazy man running towards him with a big club.
Asileth was in hysterics. There were dragons dying in the Weyr and the really evil/crazy guys were stealing the eggs! And what was wrong with those dragons? They were dirty and disgusting and crazy. And then a crazy person was nearing Hers, who was so little and weak and would never be able to protect himself.
Asileth roared and swung her head to knock the man down. He didn‘t black out and was on his way back up when K‘vin‘s instincts kicked in. He needed to protect the Weyr at all costs, the only place where he had been loved and accepted. He was not going to stand by while it was destroyed. Plus, he didn‘t really want to die. So he ran to the man and kicked him squarely in the face while he was still on his knees. The man fell to the ground yet again and dropped his club. K‘vin picked the club up and before he had a chance to think about it, he smashed it against the man‘s head, again and again until he was completely sure that the man was dead.
Now K‘vin was running on pure adrenaline, he didn‘t even pause to think about the fact that he had just taken a human life for the first time. He saw Tessarin dragging an injured person away from danger and immediately realized that he would be of most use doing that. He saw a really big male candidate on the ground with a head injury and started dragging him from the sands, following Tessarin. It was slow going and K‘vin wasn‘t able to defend himself from attacks but Asileth stuck close to him, biting, clawing and hitting anyone crazy that dared come near Hers.
Toll was not missing from the action either. He had grouped together with numerous other firelizards and together they were attacking the badtwolegs! They helped a goodtwoleg to kill a bad one and then moved onto another one. All those bad ones should leave! Now! And go away from the bigeggs! He really wanted to be protecting His though, but the greenbigwing was doing that, so Toll could focus on the badtwolegs.
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Mango
Weyrling
Posts: 107
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Post by Mango on Nov 7, 2010 18:40:21 GMT -5
Work was for the low class. That was Tazar's significant view of it. And with that view, he wasn't very well going to be doing...chores. Ugh, certainly not. These were his thoughts as he stood in his room, primping himself. The Lord Holder's son had arrived only a few days prior. This fact probably allowed him to slip away from chores. How long he'd be able to do that, he wasn't quite sure, but he didn't want to start chores anytime soon. He wasn't bred for that.
The call came. It shocked him at first. He was quite glad he was alone as he did give a jump when it happened. How undignified. He looked around, assuring himself that it was completely normal. He straightened his jacket, a lovely ruby red one made with gold-colored thread. Only the best dyes had been used, of course. He strapped his short sword to his hip and headed out. There was a regal air about the boy and an almost creepy, confident grin. Yes, he shall touch these eggs and be the best candidate. A king would be his. And then, he would rule the Weyr and show his family. Zarem was such a foolish choice for their ruler.
Sure, he beat Tazar in pretty much everything, but that didn't mean he was better..... He pushed those thoughts out of his mind. They would just make him angry and distracted, He needed to be focused. That way, he wouldn't waste his time on unworthy eggs. He wanted the biggest and the best. The most ambitious. The most cunning.
He arrived at the Sands and looked around. The eggs were shining and beautiful, but it was only the large eggs that caught his attention. He, suddenly remembering the warning from the search rider, gave a low stiff bow. It was elegant, beautiful, but a little contrived and pretentious. Tazar would bow to those of a higher status, especially an angry golden queen, but he still had too much self-importance to not grovel and beg. The bow was as respectful as Tazar had ever been, but he wasn't about to do more quite yet.
With the formalities out of the way, Tazar ran a hand through his tightly curled locks and strode forward. There were a few other Candidates there. Some of the girls, he noted, were attractive. Hopefully, one of them would get the Queen. He couldn't stand to be the weyrmate of an ugly girl. He shuddered at the thought. He had heard that dragonlust put together horrible pairs. Even two males. No, that would not be him.
The first egg he approached was the Apple-Cinnamon Egg. He laid a gentle, soft hand upon it for a moment. No, the egg was too soft and sweet. He quickly moved on. The Aurem Tea Egg and Black Tea Egg held his attention for longer. The first one seemed odd. What sort of barrier was it building? The latter, Tazar remained only for the challenge of it. It thought it could pass judgment on him! Ha!
He passed by a lot of the smaller eggs, only looking at the Green Tea egg for a short moment before deciding he didn't care to mess with it. He definitely strode towards the Jasmine Egg, not sure which egg was the gold. The gold certainly wouldn't choose him, so touching it wouldn't hurt. The Mint Egg, Oriental Spice Egg, and Pekoe Eggalso got touched.
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Valee was sitting in her room, a pile of clothes sitting next to her with her new little blue flitt, who she had decided to name Yarn . The current item in her hands were her Candidate robes from the last Hatching. She had managed to get most of the stain out of it, luckily, but there was still the nasty rip in the fabric. She was doing her best to mend it, hoping that it wouldn't be too annoying to fix so she wouldn't have to ask for a new one.
She looked up from her work as the voice entered her head. The gold flight had been a hard experience on the Weyr. She was sure the Queen was touchy. She had to hurry. She doubted lateness would be very tolerated.
She arrived and gave a deep bow, asking permission to please touch the eggs. As it was granted, she mingled with the other Candidates. Even though her strategy had failed the last two times, she still felt like touching every egg would give her the best chance. So she went through each one, allowing the dragon inside to feel her. Or at least that's what she hoped. She tried her best to give equal time to each and not favor any.
---
Then, there was chaos. The call came out. These were those from Silver Cove? What were they doing? Why were they taking the eggs. A very agitated green, the one well-known as the Weyrling Master's rose to join in the fight. But something was wrong. Her fighting spirit seemed well beyond her years. Like she was gathering her last little bit of strength. As she dived for one of the offending beasts, a pained look crossed her face and she suddenly betweened. The Weyrling Master...was dead.
On the Sands, Tazar was quick to take action. These nasty men were not going to affect his chance of getting revenge on his brother. He unsheathed his sword and headed forward. He found one of the guys near the outside and the two engaged in battle. "Think you can threaten our home?" he growled as the two became locked in battle.
They were stealing the eggs! Valee began to look around. Some of the Candidates were fighting back. She didn't know how much she could do, but she had to fight back too. She rushed forward to attack a man. Before she reached him, Yarn appeared diving at the man before she could get there.
((Sorry for the quick end. Have to study!))
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Plot
Moderator
Deus Ex Machina
Posts: 11
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Post by Plot on Nov 10, 2010 7:34:03 GMT -5
From the sky, two greens dove at the blue holding their leader at bay, flaming and forcing the large blue back to break his concentration. Jaxith dove for the edge of the cliff, aiming a well placed blow at one of the green’s wing joints, effectively crippling the dragon as she left the safety of the ground and floundered out of the air over the ocean, splashing down with an anguished bugle. The leader bronze was free to act, hissing his displeasure that a blue had barred his path in such a manner. Regaining his feet, he aimed his malevolent gaze back to Trith once again.
From the group remaining around the eggs, a threesome of men gathered up the Fireside Egg and quickly shoved it onto the harness around the closest blue, tightening the straps without further ado. The blue launched itself from the ground with a massive leap, breathing a wave of flames below that actually caught one of the men who’d help harness the stolen egg. Screaming, the man fled into the crowd while the second blue stepped up. Two more browns from the wing overhead hovered close to the ground, dropping another six men to the sands to further bolster the waning numbers. With the added wave of men, they successfully snagged quick hold of the Phoenix Pearls Egg and worked it into place under the second blue on the Sands who sent a rolling layer of flames towards another group of Cerulean defenders trying to approach the Sands. Ignoring the gore that now littered the reddening sands, the men had hold of the Orange Zest Egg in a thrice, and were levering it into the carry-sack when the blue suddenly shied to the side as the green wildly seared his side with friendly fire. Giving a pain filled bugle, the blue leapt upwards, the jolt of movement loosening the Orange Zest Egg’s partially captured shell, and it was with a sickening thud and crack that it fell free of the sack to land on and crush the Yellow Tea Egg, itself breaking from the impact.
A piteous wail rose up from somewhere on the Sands, and a sudden movement from Trith showed her breaking free of the bronze’s hold, the rage of a mother bearing down on the lot of unfortunates left behind. The huge gold moved like lightning and suddenly a man was torn in half, his body flung far to land completely outside the ring of sand.
This sudden change in Trith heralded a bellowing trumpet from far overhead as all of a sudden, a full Wing of dragons appeared from between, their colors brilliant compared to the dirty blood-streaked forms of the invading beasts. They quickly slipped in among the fighting Ceruleans, bolstering their numbers with their precise aide. With their own numbers dwindling and the numbers of those defending now increased by almost a fourth, even the maddened attackers realized that they were in a desperate situation. A dragon from above bugled, and their bronze leader’s concentration broke from Trith with a snarl.
He pondered only a moment before the outcome became clear. They wouldn’t get another go at the eggs. They had underestimated the defenses somehow, and now they must retreat - NOW. He gave another snarl that gradually raised into a roar and then a bugle, signaling them to fall back. He and the egg-carrying blues had to make it away, and the others were to protect their retreat. The humans still on the Sands began to frantically fight their way back over to the dragons, intent on grabbing hold and flying away with them. Several were still locked in combat, too caught up in it to realize they should run.
Of those, two were being fought off by a wounded Samhara. Knocking one down, she aimed what would have been the killing blow - had the other not delivered a deep slice to her abdomen. In the moment she faltered the first man regained his feet and gave a second stab to her chest, causing her to fall back from them a little. In the span of a blink, her mind whirled. She knew what would happen - and just as quickly, she accepted it. She would die for her Weyr this day...but sure as Fall she would go down fighting. With her own yell of uninhibited rage, she flung herself back upon her attackers, battering at them with all of her iron will. They tried to defend themselves, but the fury of her attacks quickly felled them both. Staring down at their corpses, Samhara gave a harsh pant, awash in her one small victory.
The adrenaline beginning to wear thin, her vision started to get a little hazy. Trith stilled immediately as she sensed her beloved Rider’s whirl of thoughts and emotions. Samhara gave her a humorless grin and staggered over to rest against the great golden hide, sliding down it and patting a great foreleg. She tried to speak, but decided against it when it only made her choke and taste blood. ’I’m sorry, my love. I think today is my final day.’ NO! No, my Samhara, you can’t! You can’t leave me! I-I can’t go![/color] the gold’s voice wailed in her mind, gaze sweeping out across the eggs. The only time a dragon wouldn’t between along with its Rider...a gold with a clutch on the Sands. A rare tear rolled down Samhara’s face, stricken now at the thought that they would be parted for that time.
From across the Sands, she could see a frantic Tess dodging and weaving to get to her. They would both know it was too late, but Sam also knew that Tess wouldn’t stop trying until long after her heart stopped beating. She might be almost as reluctant to let her go as Trith would be. A remembered conversation flitted through her mind, and an idea bloomed. It wasn’t perfect, but she would do what she could for her beloved dragon. ’Listen to me, love...’ she began, her words wending through her bondmate’s fervent protests.
Several of the attackers managed to make it back through the battlefield on the Sands, reaching frantically for handholds on the rising dragons. Few found purchase, and most were left behind on the ground crying out piteously. Turning to face the battle that still raged, they were certain of the fact that they would die. The thought of capture never even entered their minds, as they themselves would never have offered such a luxury. A yell went up, and they turned back to the battle with a vengeance. If they would have their lives taken from them, they would take as many from Cerulean while they could. Three turned away from the battle, however, instead setting their focus on the eggs. They would take their hope, too. Setting upon the Maté Egg, they rained blows upon it until the thick shell finally cracked open. Having seen their attempts, several Ceruleans made to bring them down. Too late for the one egg, but saving the rest.
The battles across the Weyr waned as the Silver Cove attackers made their escape, leaving the battered Weyr behind to lick its wounds and tally its damages. The mysterious Wing that had brought them aide seemed to have disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, with seemingly none the wiser - save for one man, who held a thoughtful tinge to his battle-distraught expression.
OOC Note: The bronze leader and the two blues escaped with three of the eggs: Aureum, Fireside, and Phoenix Pearls. The rest of the Wing retreated with them, though those locked in battle were left behind. Three of the eggs were destroyed in the attack: Orange Zest, Yellow Tea, and Maté. Weyrwoman Samhara was mortally injured in the attack, and despite the frantic best efforts of the Weyr’s Healer, she will die momentarily. Due to her clutch remaining on the Sands, Trith will be forced to remain behind. D:
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