Logs:Personal
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| RL Date: 26 July, 2007 |
| Who: Zahava, Jenna, Acadia, M'yr, C'nroy, Andikola, V'ryce, Viense, T'rien, Lujayn, Sal'ros |
| Involves: Fort Weyr |
| Type: Log |
| Where: Center of the Bowl, Fort Weyr |
| When: Day 3, Month 11, Turn 12 (Interval 10) |
| For perhaps the last half hour, storm clouds have been gathering in the east, promising a late afternoon storm. The clouds are coming in low off the plains towards Fort Seahold and have the look of trouble about them. It is not until the watchrider takes off from the star stones ledge that anyone has any inkling of just how much trouble they are going to be. Perhaps a mile or so out from the weyr, the rain starts. Though this is no friendly rain. Instead, silvery thread descends to eat what little vegetation exists in the mountains. It is almost as though the mountains cut the clouds open to allow the deadly spores to drop. The watchrider and dragon scream the alarm! Thread! Thread falls over the Weyr itself! C'nroy drops to the ground, landing on both feet, a second figure, taller than he and somewhat wider at the shoulders, drops unsteadily to the ground behind him. C'nroy gestures. "Get clear, Cay! " the taller figure, bearing striking resemblence in the face to the brownrider, nods and moves away uncertainly. M'yr's tugging his shirt around his shoulders, face grim as he literally glares up at the sky. Almost tripping once, he snarls at the errant rock, continuing his jog toward the gathering riders. "For Faranth's sake!" he growls, pausing only to mutter something to Fe'nam from Dawnguard Wing. Fort dragons sense that Niyath picks up the watch dragon's call. « Thread! Thread falls over our weyr! » And an image of what the watch dragon has seen: the fall about a mile off, coming in from the east, already eating what sparse vegetation can be found in the mountains. Loketh reacts to the watchrider dragon's scream, roaring loudly from his ledge. V'ryce bolts from his weyr out to his bronze, looking up first in appalled shock, then running back to fetch up Lo's harness and gear - getting him into it in record time. His own gear is then donned, the pair winging down to the Bowl dangerously fast - Val skidding down his lifemate's shoulder to the ground. Ciath launches from her ledge on one side of the bowl, winging across towards the lake shore where she lands momentarily, then returns in the opposite direction with her rider clinging to her neck. Jenna comes pelting down the ramp from her weyr, even as Niyath launches from her ledge, flamethrower tanks already aboard. The Weyrwoman is struggling into her flight gear as she runs, checking in briefly with the people starting to gather outside the infirmary. M'yr snaps, "V'ryce! Slow down, or we'll have a casualty before we even get in the air!" Oh, not in a good mood, this one. T'rien comes racing from the other side of the bowl, struggling into his riding jacket. He slides in next to Cavoth and immediately starts relaying orders to his wing. A bag of stone is tossed at him and he catches it deftly. Cavoth lowers his snout to begin chewing. Lujayn comes running from a nearby tunnel, quickly alerted by the clamor. She freezes, staring up to the sky and then to the gathering dragons, only to vanish again into a different passageway with a shout that's lost amidst the commotion. C'nroy starts getting Chameth loaded up and stoked with fire. The figure that had ridden down whit him moves to the side, as if trying to make sense of the chaotic scene before him. C'nroy snaps off a salute to his wingleader and listens to instruction carefully. Andikola jogs back out into the bowl engulfed in wherhide and carrying one of the flame throwers. She stays back near the weyr wall, away from the dragons and riders while they get ready for fall. Setting the tank down, she quickly starts double checking the thrower. The bowl is complete chaos as wings rapidly ready themselves. The teeth gritting sound of dragons chewing 'stone is uppermost, along with wingleaders bawling orders, and the dragonhealers rushing about just outside the infirmary entrance. As riders pour into the bowl and ready their lifemates, shouts echo across the bowl from every which way. Several young men run back and forth from the stone caverns, lugging out flamethrowers for groundcrew. Each member begins to prep the tool, Lujayn reappearing amongst them, checking and double-checking nozzles and wands. V'ryce isn't smiling at all. No, no. He looks almost ill - a bit green around the gills as he nods at the Weyrleader, saluting in his old weyrling habit. The young man joins T'rien, feeding Loketh hunk after chunk of firestone, the bronze's eyes wheeling a flaming red as he chews stone with a vengence. "This one's nearly empty, you dimglow!" One short-tempered woman's cry rises above all the commotion for just a moment. The gangly resident helping to supply the groundcrew backs away hurriedly, taking the tank to be refilled. Acadia waddles over from the lake shore, hide glistening in the evening air. She stops by her rider's side and stands still for her harness to be put on. Acadia maintains a running commentary while she works. "Keep your mind on thread tonight........I don't care how long Chameth's tail is.......or that Loketh has big wings. Just chew the 'stone and get gassy!" Viense is hanging back, by the entrance to the bowl, wiping her hands on a dishrag. "Shards, shells and little green lizards," she swears to herself, her voice low. The bowl is a riot of activity, and a rider jostles her, rushing by. Her eyes are wide, focusing on those in the bowl she's come to know. Another rider jostles her as he rushes by, muttering for her to get out of the shardin' way, and something clicks, as she wheels and disappears into the weyr, shouldering past two more people rushing out into the action. M'yr strides amongst the gathering wings, personally checking straps and muttering instructions to the wing leaders. "Focus! Move quickly but with precision! Remember what we've been practicing!" As he walks, he tugs on his helmet and then goggles. Jenna speaks in a low voice to Leah, and then moves on, looking for Zahava as the queen's wing forms up. As she moves, she keeps an eye on the threatening clouds, ever approaching. They are oddly low in the sky, flashes of silver seen - not helpful lightning, but thread, just on the horizon over the bowl walls. Hurry, hurry! Chameth chews rock. THe usually cheery and somewhat carefree air around the dragon having melted way into a quiet anticipation. C'nroy works around him quickly, checking straps and securing 'stone. Once satisfied his goggles are pulled down from his forehead over his eyes. Chameth's wings flutter a little Nervous, perhaps? Ciath arrives at last, navigating the mass of assembling dragons to find a space near Niyath open enough to permit a landing, rumbling irritably at a blue that infringes on her landing space for a moment before moving out of her way. Her rider is still tugging on her jacket as the gold lands, though her flamethrower is secured to the riding straps already. Lujayn has little time to recognize dragonriders, her nose to the grindstone when a tall figure comes through the crowded bowl. "I came in with C'nroy today. I can work a flamethrower-" He asserts, cut off mid-sentence by the intense runner. "Hold on a bit." Lujayn grabs another worker unceremoniously. Words are exchanged quickly, and soon enough Caylian is taking his place amongst strangers. There's a first time for everything, and this is the first time Viense has actually used this equipment, other than training. Training, which she mostly spent time thinking about that red-headed butcher in the kitchens, or how she was going to sneak out of dish duty - certainly not the ins and outs of groundcrews. But she's struggling to get the equipment out with her as she hurries back into the bowl, glancing up worriedly to the sky. T'rien glances up at V'ryce and gives him a nod of reassurance. "Remember your drills," he advises him, and C'nroy, who is standing close by. "Nothing fancy today. Strictly by the book. Okay?" Inneth chews firestone as fast as a resident can feed her. Once Acadia finishes adjusting and testing the straps, she fastens on two bags for a refill and checks her own leathers for holes. She looks a little silly spinning around to try and see her own back, and she finally gives up. "Jenna? I don't have any holes in my jacket, do I?" C'nroy nods. "Yes, Sir." he turns to the strangely quiet brown. "You heard him, right? All business." a soft snort is the reply, but the eyes whirling red. M'yr stops to toss 'stone toward his lifemate's maw, the bronze's eyes whirling as he looks toward the other dragons. Once that's completed, he's back to jogging in and out of the gathered riders. "Where's Ta'den????" is yelped to the 'Second in charge of the wingrider. "And where's P'raml?? Find them!" The relative calm in his take-charge voice is exchanged for worry and anxiety. "Move it!" One who isn't really a stranger but feels like one stands among the rest of the ground crew, moving around to join them once she'd spotted them. Andi checks her thrower once more, maybe for luck. Jenna says to Zahava, gesturing for her to stay in the straps, "Lots of work for us today. Those clouds look wrong. Very wrong. Stay close, and make sure you two are reach to catch if needed." She doesn't wait for an answer, but instead breaks into a run to head towards M'yr, passing Acadia as she does? "What? Acadia - you better not - we don't have time for this." She ends up at M'yr's elbows, pointing and talking fast. "They're low. And close. We don't have much time." Her voice is loud, but sure, the only hint of fear or worry in her face revealed by the way her eyes track those clouds, coming ever faster. An over-enthusiastic young member of the groundcrew yelps as a senior member grabs his arm roughly, certainly more than is needed. "Quit waving that thing around. It's a tool, not your plaything. Get ready!" The boy grumbles and scuffs his feet, but leaves off brandishing the flamethrower wand unnecessarily. V'ryce nods quietly, again saluting T'rien out of force of habit, the young man strained, silent as he stokes Loketh's inner fires with one last chunk of firestone. Another sack of the stuff is assembled, draped and secured over the big bronze's neck as he crouches down low, Val then slipping off the dragon's forearm to the ground to tug fretfully at straps and his jacket. Gotta get it right...don't think too much. M'yr even snaps back to Jenna, "I can see that!", staring at her before his elbow is touched by that 'Second, motioning frantically toward the two riders M'yr asked about just before. "Uhm, they're here?", he close to apologizes, though M'yr's not impressed. "Late! Send them to me when this is over!" Zahava nods to Jenna, pulling off her gloves to fasten her jacket, cramming her hair under her helmet until no whisps escape. That done, she sets about double-checking the tightness of her safety straps primarily by feel while keeping an eye on the slowly organizing mass in the bowl. Viense is attempting to check her thrower, cursing under her breath, then shuffles into formation. "Never thought I'd need to use this thing right here," she mutters to the nearby Andi. "It's this dial here, right?" Her eyes flicker to the sky, then back down again, wide in her pale face. "Have you ever seen this before? I mean, watchin' them fightin' thread right overhead?" There's a pause, and she asks with an ominous voice, "How much of it gets through. You know. To the ground?" Jenna gives M'yr a half exasperated, half bemused look before her lips twist up in a crooked smile. Clearly there's more she wanted to say to him, but instead she hurries away, mounting Niyath in a practiced jump. Jenna takes a running jump, grabbing the riding straps and swinging aboard Niyath as she crouches. M'yr finally stands in a strong position where at least his wingleaders can see him, back straight, face grim still. "Get ready! Mount!" he bellows, then does so himself. As if in answer to Viense's question, the first of the thread hits the weyr before the dragons can get into the air. One of the first targets is the feeding grounds - there hasn't been time to get the animals under cover! Panicked bawls of herdbeasts and the protofeathers of wing-clipped wherries fill the air. One cow sinks down, covered in a writhing ball of green-gray string. T'rien finishes feeding Cavoth his 'stone, then pulls on his gloves, shouldering his way through two of his wingriders to confirm with his 'second for a moment. They go over something briefly, while T'rien glances over his shoulder at the threatening sky. "We don't have time. Skysentry, mount up!" Acadia strips off her jacket, sees there are no holes, and quickly puts it back on. Inneth refuses another helping of firestone, so she must be ready. The rider pulls on gloves and helmet, and mounts Inneth when she sees the Weyrleaders do the same. C'nroy moves to mount up. "This is too sharding personal." he comments. V'ryce shoves his helmet on his head, tucking in his runner tail until nothing sticks out - fastening it securely, then pulling down goggles. Loketh rumbles loudly, dipping to present his shoulder to his rider, who scrambles up and secures himself to his mate. Lujayn looks over the assembling groups of the groundcrew, giving her jacket a nervous tug before hefting the flamethrower to keep it at the ready. Her eyes, like so many others, are darting towards the silvery storm approaching over those too-close mountains. "You two okay?" She begins to seek out Viense and Andikola, but a howl of pain from the feeding grounds jerks her around. "Get moving!" She urges them on instead, not hesitating to follow her own orders. M'yr's fairly standing, hanging onto the straps so he can peer out in all directions. "Get 'em up!!" he bellows, pumping his hand furiously as the Thread hits the weyr, his usual formal tone and words lost in the frenzy to get started flaming. Niyath wings up from the Center of the Bowl. Loketh wings up from the Center of the Bowl. Ciath wings up from the Center of the Bowl. From atop Niyath, Jenna's already swearing as M'yr gives the signal to get into the air, and she pumps her fist in three short bursts, indicating a low level flight for her wing as she takes them north first, then swings around to come back down the length of the weyr, heading for the low falling thread devestating the feeding grounds. Inneth wings up from the Center of the Bowl. Cavoth wings up from the Center of the Bowl. Chameth wings up from the Center of the Bowl. There is no time to waste, and plenty of work for every wing, even before they get to fighting height. Clumps drop down for M'yr, T'rien and V'ryce, even as Jenna directs the queen's wing towards the feeding grounds to try to mitigate the damage. Another clump slithers through the sky towards C'nroy, even as the wings get organized. Seated atop Cavoth, T'rien wraps his arm around his straps as Cavoth dives, flame erupting from his throat to catch the patch that falls before him. Char and flaming bits of ash erupt around both of them as the soar through the aftermath, carried by the errant winds and irregular air currents of the season. M'yr's busy sending hand signals to each of the wings, those designed to be seen at a distance as well as when voice commands were not available. Sol banks, mindspeaking his own instructions when... whoa! Just above Sol's head is that errant Sliver, careening toward them! Leaning close to Sol's neck, M'yr sends them both skipping *between* in a flash. Emerging in a great spot to flame, the bronze lets loose with the first shot, searing the Thread in an explosion of fire. Upon Ciath, Zahava's flamethrower roars to life as Ciath wings steadily after Niyath, turning a writhing patch of silvery substance to black ash in their wake. Upon Chameth, C'nroy reacts quickly to the approaching menace. This clump seems to have its sights set on the brown and he returns the favor. As it plummets downward, his head angles up, a roar issues forth, as if challenging. The next breath a stream of flame engulfs the thread. C'nroy ducks and covers his face as the brown passes through the drifting ash and char. Upon Loketh, V'ryce blanches beneath his scarf and helmet as he sees that tangled clump heading for them, the young man slapping Loketh's neck a couple of times as he urges the bronze after it. A warning growl to his Wingmates to warn them off, and the bronze rises to meet the Enemy, then spewing a thick belch of fire upon the Thread, charring it utterly - the pair enduring the wash of hot ash particles as they then retake their place in the formation. Mounted on Niyath, Jenna twists in the straps and dives down, perhaps only fifty feet above the groundcrews as Jenna sears a swath of thread coming down from the leading edge. Niyath tries to stand on her tail to avoid a patch, doesn't quite make it, and instead blinks between, emerging further up in the bowl and back at flight level. No matter how flighty Inneth was acting earlier, she's all business now. When a half-burned mass of Thread falls her way she puts her gas to good use, burning it to harmless ash with one gout of flame. She reluctantly remains in formation, thanks to a well-timed thump on the neck from Acadia. Chamethreacts quickly to the approaching menace. This clump seems to have its sights set on the brown and he returns the favor. As it plummets downward, his head angles up, a roar issues forth, as if challenging. The next breath a stream of flame engulfs the thread. C'nroy ducks and covers his face as the brown passes through the drifting ash and char. Though T'rien is flaming as he should, another clump drops down, practically on top of him, as the wind picks up, and whirls off small clouds towards Acadia and V'ryce. Even as the wings get fully into position, Jenna signals the queen's wing to pull up, so as not to endanger the ground crew below. Ciath twists sharply to avoid a windblown tangle, drawing on her innate aerobatic skills to avoid the Thread. Catching her Wingleader's signal, she rises as Zahava's flame singes part of the clump that had threatened them. On Niyath, Jenna twists in the straps and dives down, perhaps only fifty feet above the groundcrews as Jenna sears a swath of thread coming down from the leading edge. Niyath tries to stand on her tail to avoid a patch, doesn't quite make it, and instead blinks between, emerging further up in the bowl and back at flight level. Cavoth twists to avoid the clump, practically executing a barrel roll in mid-air that forces T'rien to hold on for dear lift. The clump of Thread passes right where they had been a moment before - as does T'rien's scarf, which slips off his neck and flutters down, down, down to the bowl below. Soldreth remains high above the ranks, outside of the tumbling mass, sending visuals to the dragons below as to its location and habits. Teeth grinding against each other, M'yr stays low to his dragon's neck, dark eyes alert to any change or fluctuation in direction. "T'rien! Ride west! And take Acadia with you! See? Over there? A large patch!" Upon Loketh, It's Loketh who notices that spinning Thread first, this time, the bronze alerting his rider even as he roars his anger. A dart outward, and Loketh produces a wide swath of flame, incinerating the silvery ribbon as Val holds tight, the pair ducking the hot ash this time as the swirling wind carries it away. Seated atop Cavoth, T'rien takes a moment to regain his sense of balance, and his composure, after Cavoth rights himself. Hearing M'yr's shout, he turns, then points for Cavoth's benefit. "I see it!" Poor Inneth--no sooner does she blast one mass than she's under attack again. This time it takes two gouts to destroy the cloud blown her way, and a little of the black ash floats across her rider. Acadia only has time to cough once before the two of them take off with T'rien to destroy more of the silvery death. Everywhere dragons are screaming challenges. How DARE this menace threaten their weyr! There is no time for posturing as thread drops towards Zahava, C'nroy and M'yr, while the backdraft of a green washes uncharred remains in the west towards Acadia and T'rien. On Niyath, Jenna's low enough to hear a scream from someone on the ground. She signals for Zahava to take the lead as she doubles back, Niyath turning in a surprisingly tight circle for her size, to evaluate the situation. Chameth banks left, taking up a little of the space left by the vacating wingleader, which puts him into threat range of the approaching clump. Eyes a deep red, the brown prepares another blast as his rider takes refuge behind the browns head. Chameth pulls up and belches the stream forth, catching the clump square, scorching it. A roar of challenge off to the left a distance gets picked up, Chameth echoing the sentiment as he gets stone to chew, preparing for more. Soldreth's heart is big and he's strong, the pace of this 'fall not hampering his abilities to watch for where and when the falling Thread will go. M'yr, however, is intent on where T'rien and Acadia have been sent, heard by his yelling to their backs, "Watch out! There's a backdraft heading toward... Yargl!" Grabbing at his thigh, he clenches his teeth as he's slightly scored, Sol twisting as best he can to escape any more of what's falling. "GRRR!" Ok, this is war! Weyrleader and mount turn, twist, and *flame* it to smithereens. "Ha!" he calls out loudly. Ciath starts to twist away from the Thread bearing down on them, Zahava turning her flamethrower towards it, but even as some of the Thread starts to turn to ash, a passing brown sends it wafting too swiftly towards them and the gold flashes Between, skipping out of the way so she has space to flame it. She then moves forward into the leading space. Inneth takes a couple of mouthfuls of 'stone from her rider, and immediately puts the fuel to good use. Narrow but precisely aimed bursts of flame work on the left side of the dark patch, steadily reducing it to nothing. Niyath peers down towards the feeding grounds in her circle back along the wing's path. Then abruptly, she pops between, reappearing in what was Ciath's position in the wing, and letting the youngest gold take lead. Seated atop Cavoth, T'rien comes up underneath the remains of the patch Inneth is working on, flaming upwards with a great gout of fire. Ashes rain down on the pair, causing T'rien to cough as he sucks in a lungfull of the hot, nasty stuff. Upon Loketh, Loketh warbles loudly in Soldreth's direction when his rider endures a small scoring, as if to shore up his brother bronze, the younger pair watching out for more errant Thread while V'ryce feeds his lifemate more chunks of firestone. A blue darts between, bellowing in pain and anger as a wingtip is scored. Then he's back again, but the clumps he was aiming for drift instead towards M'yr, Zahava and Acadia. Yet another patch descends towards V'ryce - no time to waste, get that rock chewed! Once the dark patch is destroyed, Inneth returns to formation. Along the way she stares at Chameth's tail and sends a croon his way. Acadia has to punch her on the neck again and yell "Pay attnention to Thread, you idiot! Fight now, flirt later!" Ciath doesn't glance back as Niyath moves into her space, but even as Zahava signals a lefthand turn, she begins to turn as well. Zahava glances over her shoulder and lifts the nozzle of her tank to sear the Thread wafting towards them. The gentle turn goes on and on, wide enough for the wing to follow it, surpassing 180-degrees to bring them back on course until they are lined up again with the massive burrow in the Feeding Grounds, wings angled down to sweep lower. Soldreth's got this one covered; the bronze returning Loketh's warble with a bellow of his own as he catches sight of the patch heading toward him and V'ryce, then focuses on that clump in his path. Easily, he sends out a burst of flame, the sliver disintegrating into nothingness. M'yr grimaces, extending his body outward by hanging onto the straps, calling out sharply, "Resupply!" Upon Loketh, Loketh has to abandon the last bits of rock in his mouth - spitting them out in a fine rain as he must take time to belch forth a thick gout of flame instead of swallowing! It's too close for comfort, but his fires *do* char the whole mass of Thread to char, Val ducking hard as the pair pass through the ash cloud left behind. Most of the thread has been cornered by the groundcrew into a mass in the center of the feeding grounds. But the ball is so large that they can't get close enough to effectively flame it. As the queen's wing starts their turn, Niyath breaks off, speeding over the grounds and Jenna leans low in the straps, screaming a warning, "Get Back!" Then she's popped between and back into her place in the wing. Cavoth returns to the head of Skysentry, looking quite dirty and a bit piqued. He roars, evidently saying something to his rider. T'rien can be seen shaking his head. "Now is not the time for that!" he cries. "We fly traditional formations!" Chameth drops back to his normal spot at Cavoth's return. A rumble of aimed at the passing Inneth, but the browns attention remains focused on the fight going on around him and near him. Upon Loketh, Loketh roars inquiringly back at Cavoth, sparing a moment's curiosity to the older brown's reasons for calling out so. But the bronze quickly settles his sights back onto business, slipping back into his place in the Wings' formation, while V'ryce signals for another sack of firestone. there seems to be a break in the deadly rain for a moment, allowing a bit of a breather and a chance to grab more firestone. And then the deluge starts. What came before, fast and low, is nothing to this onslaught. Clumps seem to perversely target T'rien and M'yr, while single threads spiral out to Acadia, V'ryce and C'nroy as the queen's wing comes in low, perhaps only thirty or fourty feet above the feeding grounds to tackle that huge mass in the center. Inneth resumes her place in formation, taking the last of the firestone from the sacks Acadia packed earlier. She manages to chew it completely before spying the single strand sliding in her direction. This time it's Acadia who's caught off guard when the green spins and nearly does a backward somersault in order to get it. Only the rider's straps keep her from becoming a pancake on the rocky bowl floor. Soldreth places himself into postion so M'yr can snag the sack that's tossed, gratefully crunching 'stone quickly. It's when the Weyrleader has retrieved the sack that a clump splits in two above Sol's head, one passing harmlessly by while the other scrapes M'yr's forearm. That did it! With a determination exceeding his own limits, Weyrleader and bronze streak after both, Sol sending out a great superburst to devour that nasty Piece! Upon Loketh, Receiving his resupply sacks, and quickly feeding Loketh more 'stone, V'ryce calls out a harsh warning as he sees that silvery Thread undulating towards him. Again, just in time, Loketh's flame sears it to a crisp, the bronze roaring his defiance. Val's heart does its own sommersault in his chest when he sees Acadia tossed about on Inneth like that. Ciath leads the Queen's Wing down, slowing their speed to give the groundcrew the most time to get out of the way. Zahava's head turns as the fence breaks, but her distraction is fleeting. Ciath sweeps slowly across the burrow, her rider directing a long gout of flame down at the mass, Ciath's wings held high to keep them out of the way of any tendrils. One the far side, she begins to climb again, Zahava twisting back to keep an eye of the rest of the wing as the pass across the burrow. Of the queen's wing, the last to flame the mass into oblivion is Leah, and she gives a whoop of triumph, signaling up to Zahava. Seated atop Cavoth, T'rien looks up and his face whitens as he sees a clump heading right down upon him. No time for heroics or clever rolls - Cavoth folds his wings and drops like a stone, trying to race the Thread to the ground in a perilous drop. Glancing up and behind him, he sees C'nroy and Chameth out of the corner of his eye and gives a peculiar signal, seemingly out of desperation. Chameth turns his attention to the plummeting Wingleader. A moment later the browns head bobs once and he comes around hard. The single thread that snuck through crosses his riders arm, but the brown continues on unflenching. Coming in full bore from the side, he sweeps in on the clump, crisping the upper levels. the browns passing redirects the remaning thread from a downward fall to sideways for a moment, allowing a blue who also saw the signal from the other side to sweep in below Chameth's pass and finish the job with practiced precision. The clump floats harmlessly as ash. With the sudden confusion on the ground, and the utter mindless, and mind numbing, intensity of the fall, the situation looks pretty grim. And then abruptly, the silvery threads stop. Nervous glances have time to take in the clouds before there is a bone-shuddering crash of thunder and the skies open yet again. This time, it's life-saving rain, pouring out of the clouds and drowning the thread before it can become a menace. Just as quickly as the fall began, so it ends, leaving many riders and groundcrew reeling. Chameth gives one last roar, a challenge or just a commentary, is hard to say, but the flick of the tail seems to say Now don't come back! Niyath bellows in relief as the rain opens up, not the least bit disconcerted with the sudden drenching. Her bellow is echoed by her rider, who then looks to Zahava, soot streaked face now drenched, for the signal to land. Upon Loketh, Loketh, too, bellows his own derisive comment to the cowardly silver stuff as it leaves, V'ryce flinching from the growl of thunder above as the heavens open up on all of them. Soldreth's not trusting this abrupt ending, nosiree, he's winging out and around the area, checking for any last remnants that may be hiding out. M'yr pumps his fist, finally giving the signal for the wings to land. Cavoth extends his wings to break his fall, soaring upwards with a roar as the Thread is charred above him. T'rien is forced to hold up his arm to block his face from the ash - he'll have a nice set of burns on his cheeks and forehead, but nothing as serious as the full on Threadscoring he was about to receive. Upon Ciath, Zahava's hand acknowledges Leah's 'report' and Ciath levels out, letting the wing catch up and even out after the pass, gesturing to tighten things up. Just as a pair of greens settle into place, the sky opens in its downpour. Zahava's head moves in a nod, but it's to the Weyrleader she looks, and only once he has given his own signal, does hers direct the Queen's Wing to land, Ciath leading them down toward the heart of the bowl, away from the now-milling beasts that have taken up residence towards the lake end of the bowl after wreaking havoc in their passage. Upon Loketh, V'ryce gasps in sudden relief when M'yr sounds the all clear, the young man waiting until T'rien directs them all back down again. Cavoth spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing. Niyath spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing. Inneth spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing. Loketh spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing. Chameth cruises into a turn and aims himself along the bowl, eyes slowly starting to lose the red coloring. The brown makes his way down, near the entrances to the Caverns. Chameth spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing. Ciath spirals down towards the Center of the bowl, and backwings to a landing. Center Bowl Sky - Fort Weyr Perhaps some forty feet below you is the center of the Fort Weyr bowl. From here you can see, and be seen by, those below, and if you strain you can see from one end of the bowl to the other. The winds here swirl a bit but aren't too disturbing, just a bit cold. All around you on the cliffs you can see various weyrs and occasional glints from the dragons who hunt at the feeding grounds or sun themselves at the lake. From this perspective, you can see the Weyrleaders' Complex, Junior Queens' and Hatching Grounds to the northeast, the feeding grounds and lake to the southwest, and below you is the entrance to the large Living Caverns and the large area in front of the Weyrling Barracks. Off to the east are the famous Star Stones. There are many ledges to 'weyrs' scattered throughout the walls of the cliffs here. Lujayn is readying herself for the next assault, expecting something to heave up out of the ground after hazards from all other directions. Bellowing herdbeasts hardly take their cue from the rain, just as dangerous as ever, but there's one less thing to worry about. "Maybe." She searches the skies suspiciously, hands tight around her flamethrower. "Right." She raises her voice for the rest. "Everyone! Take your tanks in and get them cleaned up. /Everyone/ needs refills, too, no matter how much is left." Niyath wings down and crouches for Jenna to dismount and gather her equipment. A herdbeast trots past, bawling and bewildered, and Jenna stops. She pulls off her flight goggles, rubs her eyes and says, to anyone around her, "Was that what I think it was?" Upon Loketh, V'ryce simply sits aboard Loketh's neck once the bronze lands, the young man quiet as he glances around at the scene just below. Slowly, almost casually, he begins stripping off his helmet, letting the rain hit his sweat and soot-streaked head. T'rien pulls off his helmet and slams it to the ground in uncharacteristic frustration. He turns on his heel as Chameth lands and immediately runs toward the pair, cursing. "C'nroy! Are you all right?" C'nroy is gritting his teeth, looking at his right shoulder. "I think so. Feels like my shoulder and arm are on fire. Think it just nicked me." After everything else, what's a few loose herdbeast? Thread sort of gives everything perspective. Viense trudges across the bowl, changing course for dragons, herdbeast and riders, nodding a greeting here and there as if she's an old hand in all of this. Her first fall. It'll be a story to tell the grandchildren. Acadia finally slides off Inneth's back and stumbles when she lands. Once she removes her helmet and kerchief the greenish tinge to her face is revealed. She has to brace herself against her lifemate's side for a moment or three, but then visibly pulls herself together and starts to inspect Inneth for ashburn or scores. She hears Jennas question and answers "I think that was a herdbeast, but Inneth just called it 'breakfast'." Andikola feeling a bit cleaner now that the downpour has washed some of the soot off her face and has thoroughly soaked into her hair, she starts towards the caverns, slowing as she nears the injured riders and dragons. She half turns, as if going to help assist the healers even if it's to hold the pots of numbweed for them when one of the healers shoots her such a ferocious glare she stops dead in her tracks. "Uh oh." T'rien reaches out to help his wingmate toward the healers. "Some numbweed will help. That was some great flying, by the way. Thanks. I owe you one." Zahava strips off her gloves, securing her tank again to Ciath's straps before pulling off her helmet and goggles. Rain rolls off the oiled leathers of her flight gear, but her hair is soon plastered to her head. Releasing herself from the straps, she slithers down to Ciath's elbow, then jumping out to avoid a rapidly-forming puddle. C'nroy tries not to favor the arm, although he can't help it entirely, it does /hurt/. "I guess all that time trying to solve that problem did pay off, didn't it? Chameth is the one who did the hard part." he walks alongside his Wingleader. "I think the dragons took this one personally." M'yr's down but his posture is rigid, chin tilted upward as rain water streams down his face, creating tributaries of soot and dirt around the area that shows where his goggles were. Finally, he lets go of his skyward stare, limping out into the ranks of riders who are finally dismounted. A pause here, a moment there, he begins a personal count of those wounded while a palm clasps his forearm. Upon Loketh, V'ryce just sits there on Loketh, stripping off his gloves now, pressing hands into warm bronzen hide as he recovers. The ashen face of a greenrider, her back and shoulder streaked with blood, stops Viense in her newly assertive little tracks. "Shells and little fishes," she breathes, reaching out to steady the rider. "Sit down. Let me get that jacket off you." Indeed, the rider seems fit to crumble to the ground without Viense's direction, and the jacket is more than ruined. "Healer!" she calls, turning to look in all directions, but before the words are out of her mouth, a middle aged man with a healer bag rushes by her to crouch by the stricken rider. Jenna puts the herdbeast out of mind for the moment and rushes off to accost the healers. Once she talks a pot of numbweed out of the man, she hurries over to M'yr, keeping pace with him and saying softly, "Here, let me get that." Reaching out to try to numb the forearm first. Zahava's head turns towards the masses of people, then she lifts her eyes quickly to Ciath, who surveys the masses from a much better vantage. A little nod seems to acknowledge something hear only by herself. T'rien's face is a mask of soot and small burns, an effect that is enhanced by the rain as it showers down on them unchecked. He delivers C'nroy to the nearest healer. "See to his arm," he instructs gruffly. He pats C'nroy on his non-injured arm. "First chance we get, we start drilling that routine in earnest." He looks about, shielding his eyes from the rain, taking a tally of Skysentry's casualties. Noting V'ryce still mounted on Loketh, he trots over to get a better look. "You okay up there?" M'yr's provoked by this turn of events, not to mention the growing list of injured and loose stock wandering about. His first instinct is to jerk his arm away, hardly realizing it's Jenna, then his harsh expression subsides. "But there is too much to do, Jen! Look!" His other arm sweeps out in the direction of the ranks. C'nroy sighs and lets the healer do does the magic while he stands there, letitng it rain, matting his blonde hair to his skull like wet straw. He stands there, letting what all transpired sink in. He doesn't appear to be the only one either. Upon Loketh, V'ryce startles a bit when T'rien's voice calls up to him, the bronzer, jerking his head down to his Wingleader, nodding a few times as he finds his voice. "Uh...yessir, Fine." T'rien extends a hand, all the while getting a close look at Loketh. "C'mon down, Val," he calls up, not unkindly. "There'll be hot food and stiff drinks in the living cavern for us, I'm sure." Jenna says calmly, "They're not going anywhere, and it's going to get infected if you keep going on so." She slathers numbweed on the arm that's holding still, despite any protests to the contrary. M'yr scrunches his face though he stays put, the Weyrwoman's calm tone having its effect on him. "No it won't." he mutters, though there's not much oomph to the words. "You're all right?" Upon Loketh, V'ryce appears to try and smile down at T'rien, but all his lips manage is a twisted smirk. "Yessir..." he mumbles thickly, numb fingers slowly unbuckling his straps. Lujayn finishes seeing to her flamethrower, crouched away from the general hubbub. Clattering steps make her look up, at first irritated. She nearly lets out a peal of nervous laughter when the watery eyes of an escaped runnerbeast stare down at her, nostrils quivering at her hair. Lu stands slowly, taking pains not to alarm it further. Reaching for its halter, she leads it inch by inch through working healers and gathering riders. "Let's get you back to the stables, huh, you lump." Jenna smiles up at M'yr through the rain, dimples curving in soot-stained cheeks. "I duck faster." Niyath's already galumphing towards her weyr, ready for a scrubdown to get ash and soot off her hide. Viense watches the healer for a brief moment, but things are well in hand on that account. A herdbeast wanders by, dazed and a bit confused, and she grabs it by the halter, pulling it towards the ruined pasture. It follows docily. It's a strange picture - drenched kitchen assistant, near empty tank bouncing on her back, soot streaked face, leading a herdbeast. She pauses by the weyrleader and goldrider, giving a little shake of her head, but doesn't speak as she trudges across the bowl. Zahava steps away from Ciath, working through the crowd as she heads towards where the majority of the ground crew have gathered to debrief. T'rien receives a report from his wingsecond and he nods grimly at the casualty list. With a brief glance over his shoulder at the Weyrleader, he turns back just in time to get his face slathered with numbweed by an overzealous apprentice. "Hey!" M'yr would comment something back but the smile and dimples put the skids to whatever was going to be snapped back. Allowing her to add the numbweed, he just rolls his eyes then sighs. "I honestly thought we were done with it, you know? For so long.." his voice lingers off as he looks at her with distress. Upon Loketh, Given another few minutes, V'ryce is able to climb down off of Loketh's neck, finally - his legs wobbling only a little bit as he leans up against his lifemate. Ahem. Seems the groundcrew is going to be debriefed? Hardly something you can bring a herdbeast to. She slows, contemplating the situation, then lets the animal go, swatting it on the rump in the direction of the pasture. Herders are already out, rounding up the animals, and the creature takes a tentative trot towards the others. Viense turns, making her way back to Zahava, hiking her tank back on her shoulder again. T'rien wipes numbweed off his face with a hastily offered towel, scowling at the young man who has now managed to make his entire face go numb. "Was dat competely necessawy?" he drawls. With a gasp and a roll of his eyes, he snaps his mouth shut. Jenna nods to M'yr, "I know. But you knew about the falls at Ista - really bad there recently." She practically pours numbweed over his arm, and then says, "Where else? Oh shells." She gets a look at his thigh and slips an arm cozily around his shoulder - the better to support his weight off his injured leg while seeming to flirt. "Come on, you. Back to your weyr. Let the wingleaders get themselves cleaned up, and Acadia see to your wing. /She/ has better sense to duck quick, even when Inneth's proddy." Lujayn hands off the runner to a flustered-looking herder, looking around for other stragglers as she returns to the group of groundcrew fighters. "You were all excellent." She smiles, trying to keep a positive tone. "All alive, and none the worse off for a little rain." T'rien continues to wipe his face, as the rain washes away the rest of the numbweed, but none of its effects. He grits his teeth and endures a few guffaws and giggles from his wingsecond as he gives a few last orders. M'yr protests, "But I /did/ duck! On several occasio.. Ow! Hey! Careful!" Shifting his weight as directed by Jenna's actions, he feigns a hurt look though the assistance does help. He'd probably not vocalize that to her though. "Acadia was just lucky." he drawls, taking a few limping steps toward the northeast bowl. "That's success? That we're alive?" Viense raises her brow, looking out over the ruined pasture. "Makes it kinda hard to reprimand poor behavior, doesn't it?" Zahava turns towards Ciath abruptly, her eyes moving across the approaching Viense as though she doesn't see her. The gold is easy to pick out across the busy bowl, being rather larger than most everything else about, and then she looks the other way, eyes falling on the Weyrleader leaning on the Weyrwoman through a gap between two browns that quickly closes as they move. "Was that..?" she starts to say, staring at brown hide for a moment. "Excuse me," she says to Viense, and darts off around the woman threading impatiently through the crowd. Her pace is faster, despite the obstacles, than theirs, and she manages eventually to catch up. "M'yr!" she exclaims, skidding a little on the wet ground as she slows. C'nroy snorts at a comment the healer makes. "It was sort of a quick decision..." a quick intake of breath as the injury is tended. "Ow! We had to do something. Oooo!" theres a pause. "It could be worse though, right?" the healer nods, a practiced sounding reply, at least good bedside manner. "You're lucky it just got your shoulder. A few inches higher or lower and we might not be having his conversation." The brownrider pales a little at that thought. V'ryce slowly pushes off of Loketh's warm hide, smiling up at his mate, then giving him an affectionate pat. The bronze whuffles his human gently, then turns off towards the Lake - moving away before he launches his long form into a shallow glide. T'rien hears Zahava's voice through the rain and turns toward it instinctively, just in time to see her run off toward the Weyrleader. Something flickers behind his eyes for a moment but then he smiles, shakes his head and moves on in toward Cavoth. M'yr pauses, placing a little extra weight on Jenna's side while he shifts his weight to his good leg. Smiling at all right this moment is difficult for him because of what just transpired, but he does manage a light one to Za. "Heya, are you all right? Sol said Ciath was fine." Jenna squelches to a stop in the mud. "She did great taking point. First time in Fall. - Zahava, we'll worry about the herdbeasts and such in the morning if we have to. I'm sure the headwoman'll get a crew rounded up to fix the fences first thing." Zahava clasps her hands together for a moment, her eyes dropping to M'yr's leg, then lifting as she shakes her head, soaked tendrils of hair clinging to her cheeks. "Fine," she says dismissively, a gesture with her left hand as though to cast aside any concerns for herself. "Do you-" she continues to M'yr, but the words break off as her eyes move to Jenna, stopping there for a full beat. "I mean," she corrects, glancing back to M'yr, but it seems for a moment she's not quite certain what she means, and the statement trails off. "Yes, of course," she finally says, eyes turning back to Jenna as she responds to her words. V'ryce adopts a causal attitude as he pads over towards the small group of riders, taking his times since he doesn't yet fully trust his legs. The young man pulls up near Zahava, giving her a weak smile as he waits quietly, rather unaware of the impending doom of some of Fort's finest. M'yr drops the semblance of a smile, in fact turning slightly against Jenna to peer back at the wings. "Maybe I should go and see...." he mutters dismally, "Will you both excuse me?" The brief change of angle produces a grimace, but he seems determined to try again. C'nroy is joined by the person who had ridden down from his weyr with him earlier. Caylian seems to not even be noticing the rain pouring over him. As the healer finishes up, C'nroy look up. "Well, looks like you picked the perfect time to visit, right, brother?" the other man shakes his head. "Being stuck at sea for a few extra days was stressful enough, but /this/?" he shakes his head. "I guess I owe you a huge apology, little bro." the two go into quiet conversation. Jenna gives Zahava a quizzical look, but as M'yr starts to turn, "Oh, no you don't. that leg needs to be numbed and you off it. I /will/ strip you buck bare naked in the rain if I have to." She flashes a rueful look at V'ryce. "You and Loketh alright, V'ryce?" V'ryce nods quickly at Jenna, managing to eek up a smile for the Weyrwoman. "Fine, ma'am, really. Just...tired." M'yr is thwarted in his efforts which brings another sigh, dark eyes still fixated on the remaining wings. "Then let's go now before something else happens." Zahava takes a half-step towards M'yr when he starts to turn, lifting a hand, but Jenna's words arrest the movement for a moment as she stares. After a beat, she completes the movement, anyway, stepping up to the side opposite Jenna. Whatever she says, it's too quiet to carry beyond the ear it's spoken into. V'ryce takes a look at what's going on with the seniors, and, shaking his head in weak irony, he heads towards the living cavern, and a well-deserved drink or three. C'nroy pats Caylian on the shoulder. "Sounds good. Go ahead and grab a bite, have a drink. I've been ordered to rest, so I need to do that. Someone will give you a lift up, no worries." With a careful hug, C'nroy makes his way back to where Chameth stands. Sal'ros stands in the very extreme distance from the main group, kind of setting himself aside to the point that he's nearly at the lake. He still is around his wingmates, listening to them finish up debriefing conversations with one another. Jenna shrugs slightly, and gets her arm more comfortably around M'yr waist and his around her shoulders. "Come on you. You can see wingleaders while they sew you up." Pause. "Again." She looks back to the remaining riders and residents in the bowl and calls, "Can someone start rounding up those animals?" As if to underscore her point, two heardbeasts mosey past, positively sanguine, now that the danger is past. Asilli slips out of the weyr, carrying a water bucket with her to head over to the riders, going fairly slow and careful... perhaps to not spill the water. Ready to offer them all water after the heat. M'yr's lips move to Zahava, "It's ok, really.", then he's hoisted along with Jenna, heading back home. Zahava straightens as Jenna moves M'yr away, her expression stoney at best. "Right then," she mutters under her breath, turning around sharply. "Right, then," she repeats more audibly. "Let's get those herdbeasts back in the pen. There has to be /some/ sort of temporary fix that can be done on the fence!" Sal'ros considers one of the animals that wanders by, his eyes rolling as most of the riders wander off, the injured and exhausted. Sal on the other hand doesn't seem as exhausted as the others, and not nearly as sweaty or dirty. Solath on the other hand is already crouched down, ready to fall asleep right there. "Easy enough.. wire? any barbed wire?" he peers toward the gape in the hole as he steps forward toward one of the renegade animals, immediately beginning to hustle them toward the field with a few sharp thrilling whistles and loud 'HAHS' .. Solath blinks a lid open to consider the scene before he snorts a further encouragement at the animals to get them into a lope. |
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