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Post by Lady Smara on Oct 20, 2011 20:08:11 GMT -5
-------------------------- Plot Thread -------------------------- Tags :: A’lez, D’seus and R’gar I apologies to all others, but we want this to move quickly. It will be a short thread and there will be plenty of time to meet the new pair afterwards. -------------------------- She laughed. It was not a soft, polite laugh of a lady but a loud bark, full of heart and spirit that split the air as she vaulted onto her golden queen. The sun of the southern continent had done much to bolster the spirits of the expedition and each of the seven dragonriders had been in high, playful spirits. Egged on by the gold rider had only proved to loosen their morals and ease them into a state of relaxation as they explored the beaches and jungles of the south in search for possible sites for new Weyrs. For the last sevenday, they had managed to forget the troubles that plagued the north, managed to forget the fear and stress. “Bronze and Brown riders! Ha! You all should be on blue for as well as you keep up!” Sakorai shouted from the shoulders of her gold dragon as she clicked the straps into place. Holding on with one hand, she used the other to make a face at the men who were all racing to their own dragons as well. As always, Issarith was the first into the air, but immediately brown and bronze wings followed her. A dip through the natural bowl that the land created here, Issarith dipped a shoulder in a smooth arch over the crystal blue water, letting the tip of her wing skim its top and leave a wake before beating higher. “To the first beach! If you dimglows can manage to keep up with gold!” She shouted again, though she knew that they would not hear with the wind in their faces. Turning around, she let go and let the harness hold her on her gold as she lifted both arms into the air and let out a loud, joyful cry. Putting her heart and soul into the joy that the southern continent had given her and its freedom, she shouted and hollered with her arms outstretched as if she were flying under her own power and just as the shout ended, the pair jumped between. … … … I should have breathed.You did not?I was enjoying myself – this is past a count of 3.I was not counting.Issarith… this is not right! What is wrong? I need to breath!I will count, we will be out soon. Please do not panic.… Sakorai?… Sakorai!… Okay okay. One.Two.Three.Four.Five.… As they came out from between, it was not above a sunny beach that told of summer time in the South. Instead it was over the same bowl they had just left, but rather than the summer and mid morning sky, they came out from between to see clouds above the bowl. It was late afternoon and the spring air was heavy with promise of rain, though no water yet fell. With no response coming from her spirited rider and the strong presence of many dragons she did not know, Issarith let out a distressed cry as she dipped swiftly toward the bowl’s floor. Help! You will help! Send your Riders! Send your Healers! You WILL HELP! The pale gold Issarith cried out, reaching out to every and any dragon she could reach within the Weyr. This was not her Weyr, but it did not matter. She was a Queen and her rider needed help. She would tear the Weyr apart, stone by stone, until she found her rider the help she needed. Circling the bowl, she finally began to back wing and land, though as the first of the people moved close, she turned, her tail swinging out almost like a club as she suddenly hesitated handing her rider over to anyone else who was not a rider themselves. Snarling in one direction, the gold let out another powerful roar. Send me your riders! I must know I can trust! My rider needs help! Not clumsy hands!Seeing another get too close, the distressed gold snapped out once more, threatening the man's life before he moved quickly back again. NO CLUMSY HANDS!
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Post by Marnark on Oct 20, 2011 20:36:25 GMT -5
It looked like rain. Again. Beautiful. Wonderful. It meant fouled air ... it meant miserable conditions. Absolutely perfect for drilling a wing to perfection. Toughen them all up, teach them how to fly in less-than-ideal conditions. Nevermind Thread wouldn't fall in such weather. It was still practical. A'lez was just about to call his wing to order, forcing them out of their warm, dry weyrs and into the cold, wet day. But even as he opened his mouth to speak to the great Bronze beast that stood next to him in the damp air, A'lez closed it again.
His eyes narrowed, as Neinoth's broadened. They both stared in bemused wonder as a Golden beast appeared out of thin air, circling blindly. I don't know who that is, mine. But she's gorgeous. The bronze commented. "Faranth have mercy. We don't have but one adult Gold." He had to remind himself.
By which time the Gold had more or less crash landed in the Bowl, screaming for help. Neinoth was off in a flash, bounding across the ground and leaving his Rider to hoof it on his own. Quickly the Bronze dragon barreled into the fray, knocking lesser beings to the side with intent. They would get hurt. If any dragon could hurt a human, it was a Gold. Especially an enraged one. Golds would slay each other even. Briefly, Neinoth expressed dire concern to the two young Golds of Refuge, more or less ordering them to stay out of sight and well away.
Hold still!! Neinoth bleated a short trumpet of warning before leaping forward, upward, and landing heavily on the distressed Gold, bearing her hard down to the hard packed soil below. He was careful though, careful not to even seem to squish her limp Rider. I am sorry, lovely. But you are going to hurt someone you keep flailing around like that. Hold still, pretty. I have you. You are safe. Mine is coming. Turning his voice to His, Neinoth continued. Hurry, mine!! Her Rider is not awake!! Leaning more weight on the distressed Gold, Neinoth more or less twined himself all about the Gold in an effort to restrain her without hurting her. Beating both wings he fought for balance, to keep her subdued. For if she got free ... chances were good she might try to disembowel her in her anger. When she tried to bite someone, he reached out and tried to catch her head in his own mouth, hopefully without marring her lovely hide with his teeth. But she needed to be stilled. Be still, beautiful. Mine is coming. He will help yours. You are among friends. Be still. he soothed, crooning low in his throat as he tried to stay with her.
A'lez finally arrived, though short of breath. Others were well on their way as well, but he knew he had to do what had to be done. He already knew the gist of it, thanks to Neinoth. Trusting that his Bronze would continue to restrain the panicky Gold, A'lez didn't even slow as he approached. Bounding forward, he mounted the Gold's shoulder, sliding between thrashing Gold and heaving Bronze bodies. Catching a hand in the harness he hauled himself up the rest of the way to where the limp female form was. Quickly he unfastened her harness, scooping one thick arm around her middle to keep her from slumping off the far side.
Curling her up close to his chest, A'lez turned and leaped down again, jogging a few steps before slowing and laying the woman down on the ground. "Be alive, please be alive." He muttered, doing what he could to see if she was indeed alive. A hand to her throat revealed a pulse, but not nearly as strong as he would have liked. "HEALER!! I NEED A HEALER!" A'lez bellowed, well aware that this was outside his realm of talent.
Thankfully, one was already running up. A'lez recognized him as one of the Northern youths ... most notably the one that was not only a Healer, but the one that kept giving the Souther Healers all kinds of grief. But, healer nonetheless. A'lez surrendered the woman's person to R'gar's hands. Dropping the bag he'd scooped up in the infirmary (such prudence in always having an emergency bag pre-packed), R'gar knelt by the Goldrider's side. He, too, checked her pulse. But next he checked her breathing.
She wasn't. Why, he didn't know. He checked her airways and found them clear, so he did the next best thing he could think of. Tilting her head back he pinched her nose shut and breathed air into her lungs for her. Her heart was still going, so he concentrated on just getting air into her lungs. R'gar kept that up until she started breathing on her own and her pulse was stronger. Straightening, he scooped her up in both arms. "Get my bag, we need to get her in out of the weather." R'gar told A'lez, completely oblivious to the fact that he'd just issued an order to none other than the Weyrleader. Turning about he headed for the nearest entrance - rain was not going to help this situation and there was fixing to be a lot of it.
Without a second thought, A'lez scooped up the bag and followed the young Brownrider, relieved that the healer seemed positive on the Goldrider's status. "Neinoth, call D'seus, tell him where we're headed." He instructed, though the other Wingleader probably already knew about what was going on ... a strange Gold dropping out of the sky was news that was going to spread like wildfire. Especially among Bronzes. If he hadn't seen it already for himself.
R'gar shouldered his way into first the infirmary, and then into one of the more private rooms in the back - keeping the spectators at bay was a plus. Laying her out on the bed in there, he checked her pulse again. Pleased at what he found, he checked her breathing. Still going, that was good. For the most part, other than the pale, starved-of-air complexion, she looked good. Strong, filled out, well tanned ... healthy by most regards.
R'gar saw no reason why she shouldn't be awake. He held out his hand reflexively for his bag. A'lez handed it over, pushing the door shut after he came through. R'gar dumped the bag into a table and started rooting around in it as A'lez approached the bed from the other side. "I wonder where in tarnation she came from?" The baffled Bronzerider mused.
"I have no idea. Maybe there's another Weyr somewhere that we don't know about." R'gar offered, pulling out a small container and reading the label on it. Twisting the cap off, he stepped back over to the woman and passed the smelling salts under her nose. Hopefully it would wake her up.
Hopefully she didn't have a head injury. Though her pupils hadn't reflected one, it was not a sure-fire indication. There also hadn't been any obvious thread-wounds. So ... maybe she was alright.
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Post by Lady Smara on Oct 20, 2011 21:39:53 GMT -5
The gold was small. Far smaller than Rhiannoth and even a half meter smaller than the bronze she now found herself tackled by. Rather than seeing it as a calming restraint it was suppose to be, the already panic stricken gold instantly snarled at the bronze who, in her mind, was clearly attacking her. Her pale hide was smeared into the mud under his bulk and feeling a man climb toward her rider, she let out an angry roar.
Clumsy Hands! Release me! Release Her! Do not take her! SHE IS MINE! The gold screamed in her fury, twisting and writhing beneath the bronze, the sheer power she managed to find could only be credited to desperation as she finally managed to send the bronze rolling, the two dragons a tangle within one another as she snapped at the bronze, her claws seeking any purchase that they might.
You! You have stolen my rider! You will give her back! The gold roared, forcing her will upon the bronze as she struggled for the upper hand in the fight. His only saving grace was that the golds born to the Weyr were both tucked away – it offered him some slight shield to her own will upon him. And it infuriated her even more.
When she spotted out of the corner of her eye, her rider being carried further from her and eventually out of view, she let out a cry. Unlike the anger and rage that had been issuing from her, however, it was a cry of sorrow and desperation.
You will give her back! With a mighty heave, she barely managed to escape the bronze dragon’s grasp before making a short lived dash toward the door her rider had disappeared in, ignoring anything that might have been in her way.
The blonde rider was certainly not dressed for the weather. A tunic cut short to show off her midrift did not match her riding pants and boots. No coat had been in sight to protect her from the cold of flying in such weather that was plaguing the bowl today. Her breath coming back to her, when the smelling salts were held under her nose she suddenly gasped and coughed, sitting quickly up and knocking the salts out of the brownriders hand.
Finding two men before her, both built like stone outhouses, she found herself blinking a moment before jumping from her seated position on the bed to the balls of her feet, backing up to brace her back along the wall as she grabbed the nearest object (some terrible smelling jar) and held it up, threatening to throw it.
“Who are you?! Where am I?!” The distress of her gold washed over her quickly and disoriented as she was, she went instantly into the defensive – the only thing making sense to her confused mine was the fact that they were in danger.
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Post by Marnark on Oct 20, 2011 21:56:46 GMT -5
Neinoth was doing alright as long as all she was doing was writhing and flailing. Tumbling they did, but that was okay. There was no Rider to squish anymore, and His was gone, out of the way as well. You're safe! You're safe, please calm down. You're safe. Please stop ...! His mindvoice cut off when his actual voice cut in, in a pained squall when teeth sank into flesh. The bronze had not been expecting that at all even if he had been expecting it. That hurt!!!! Faranth help him, that hurt!!
I don't have her!! She is safe with mine! Neinoth protested, gasping from the pain in his side. He didn't even realize that he wasn't falling under the Gold's command ... it just simply didn't occur to him. That and he'd never countered a Gold before in his entire life. He'd always buttered his lady up, why would he ever be contrary? She's safe, I promise. Yours is safe. Please calm down. He bid, while warning everyone else to stay away. Clearly she was panicky.
Not expecting her to heave and try to get away so suddenly, having been trying to hold her off of him and from doing any more damage (he really didn't want to hurt her), Neinoth's grip on her failed entirely and she got away from him. Rolling back upright again he cringed and then hopped after her. Wait!! My Lady, please. Calm down. Yours is safe. Mine will make sure she stays safe. She is in good hands. She needs help, let Ours help Yours. Neinoth bid, even as Apollath drew nearer cautiously.
His was in there, too. And if the enraged Gold decided to take that wall down, Apollath intended to help stop her. He wasn't going to let His get squashed for her panic attack. Slouching along the ground slowly, the burly Brown was crooning softly, trying to soothe her back to a calm state despite the worried colors swirling in his eyes.
Inside, A'lez was shocked at how quickly she moved once she woke up. R'gar was somewhat prepared for it - he'd seen a lot of awakenings after all. He tried to hold her down with one hand, while lurching a grab after that vial with the other. He did manage to catch the vial, but at the expense of the woman getting away. Capping it again, he dropped it back in the bag quickly.
"Easy there, miss." A'lez answered, holding out an open hand toward her in an effort to stay her throwing that jar. Knowing healers, there was no telling what was in it. Smashing it might well be a very bad thing indeed. He made no move what so ever to advance toward her at all. "Please calm your dragon, she's tearing chunks out of mine." he requested. "You're safe, among friends. No one is going to hurt you - in fact this young man here just saved your life." He nodded ever so slightly toward R'gar, who was eying that jar and trying to determine what was in it. It was hard to tell, what with her hand covering most of the label on it.
"My name is A'lez. Of Bronze Neinoth. You're in Refuge Weyr, in the infirmary. This here is R'gar, of Brown Apollath." A'lez introduced. "What is your name? Where are you from? To be quite honest we had no idea there was another adult Gold alive." He admitted.
Hopefully the fight going on outside wasn't going to damage the Gold too much ... but then no dragon in his right mind would lay a cross talon to a Gold. They'd take a lot of abuse before ever really fighting back. But A'lez could tell by the determined and painful twinge in his own side that Neinoth had taken some serious damage.
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Post by Lady Smara on Oct 20, 2011 22:20:43 GMT -5
Hearing that her gold was tearing chunks out of another dragon had the blonde haired woman pausing for a moment, a very confused look on her face. That sounded nothing like her Issarith. Even so, the metallic taste that tickled her tongue through her connection to her gold told her the truth of it. For a brief moment, the woman’s eyes unfocused, though her body did not relax at all.
Issarith, mine. What happens? They attacked me! They took you!
The gold slowed, finding the brown, tucked low as he was, crooning at her yet blocking her way to the little door her rider had disappeared within. Another distressed cry echoed around the bowl’s walls, but she slowed and finally came to a halt.
You are well mine? They have not hurt you? Eyeing the brown wearily, the gold lowered her own head and gave the brown a look that clearly said ‘you will not argue’.
Brown, you are in my way. Move. Do not keep me from my rider. It was the sound the of the bronze moving around behind her that had the gold suddenly skidding to the side so that she could watch with distressed eyes the both of them – noting with some hint of satisfaction the green ichor that was trailing down the bronze.
I am well! Do not let them hurt you.
Her eyes refocusing on the two men before her, she quickly pulled the jar out of reach once more, threatening to throw it again when one had attempted to take it from her in her distraction. Hearing the introduction, however, did not ease Sakorai’s mind.
“I have heard none of these names. Neinoth? Apollath? Refuge Weyr? No such Weyr exists. You lie.” She spat at them, knowing it for truth to be exactly that, a lie. There were six Weyrs, all in the north and she had been forced to learn the name of every gold and bronze dragon and rider pair within each one. There was no Weyr named Refuge and there was no bronze named Neinoth.
Hearing that they had thought no other adult gold was alive, she looked in amazement between each men, a series of emotions and conflict passing over her smooth face. “No other adult golds? There are Eight adult golds, alive and clutching well in six well established, REAL Weyrs. Do not lie to me!”
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Post by HG on Oct 21, 2011 7:38:18 GMT -5
Zorometh was in a sort of shock at first upon receiving the message from Neinoth but sent it to his rider nonetheless. By the time his rider found out what was happening he was in the middle of a conversation which unfortunately could not be dissolved quickly. The infirmary. She is in the infirmary. The Queen is quite agitated. Agitated? D’seus wondered if his Bronze was putting things mildly. Well no matter. He flew Zorometh to the dragon infirmary and dismounted. Pausing slightly upon seeing the aptly described, agitated, Queen.
Neinoth, Apollath. Are you both alright? He asked, keeping his distance from the Gold for the moment. He didn’t think this keeping her from her rider was going all that well. Not that he had an alternative in mind. He spoke in the smooth tone for which he was known, Why do you attack them? The Bronze asked the Queen. Apollath’s is a healer and Neinoth’s is Weyrleader. They would not harm your rider.[/color]
D’seus let the Bronze distract the dragons while he slipped into the human side of the infirmary to hear the young woman declare that there was no Refuge Weyr. He cocked an eyebrow at the statement. Nodding to A’lez and R’gar in greeting he tried to stay out of the way. The healer seemed to have his hands full. What followed was even more intriguing. He felt the urge to ask her what was on his mind. For it quickly followed to the only logical conclusion.
“What Turn is it?” He asked her, not bothering to introduce himself. His leathers would tell her all she need know at the moment. The idea of timing it was not something well known nor even ever spoken about among the leadership. He had come across one or two records where there was a strange mentioning of how they happened to make it just in time for something and there was no way that they were making it in time if they left when they said they did. So it stood to reason that perhaps dragons could Between times. He had never dared risk anything to his Bronze he knew so little about how it worked.
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Post by Marnark on Oct 21, 2011 8:28:15 GMT -5
Apollath rolled his lips back, revealing all of his teeth at the Queen's statement. There were certain lines that a dragon would not cross. Right now he was caught between several. Disobeying a Queen was a hard one - but she was a stranger and not his Queen. Leaving his Rider unguarded against what could be a lethal threat was another. For if R'gar perished, so too would he. It was merely self preservation that kept the Brown nailed down to his place across the infirmary door. Despite the snarl plastered to his features on the hunkering male, he continued to croon in an effort to get the female to calm down. If she calmed down, he wouldn't have to defy her after all. If she calmed down, no one's life would be in danger.
Neinoth limped the last few steps, the pain in his side growing as every step tore at the damaged flesh in his side. Gasping for air for the sting of it but paying no mind to the ichor leaking out across his bronzen hide, he continued in his mission. Don't hurt him. Apollath is only protecting his ... and yours ... from your ill-thought actions. Neinoth bid, somewhat happy to see her dance sideways as he approached. At least now she wasn't lined up to rip the Brown's head off. Yours is safe, she is awake, she is living. Apollath's has helped her be so. Please be still. Peace, be still. Everything is alright. No more need hurt. He crooned to her, though there was a hitch to his voice. Easing forward slowly, ever slowly, the Bronze continued to draw nearer to the Gold, watching her eyes intently as he did so.
He was no idiot, he knew he was risking life and limb doing so, crowding a pissed off Gold. But, he was also aware that he was probably one of the most qualified to handle it. Not only one of the bigger dragons in the Weyr, he was a self-assured male that could handle himself, with probably the most intense training of any but the other Wingleaders. He just hoped that he wasn't going to have to pounce her again. Turning his haunches out toward hers as he sidled nearer, Neinoth ruffled his wings a little in what should be a calming motion. Another low croon left his throat as he lowered his head. That, too, should signal subconscious relaxation on her part, as it was supposedly a sign of submission. Which was precisely why Neinoth did it. The position would only slightly hamper him if he did have to jump on her back again, but not enough to keep him from doing it. He didn't want to have to jump on her after all, and if it worked, it worked.
She was stressed, she needed comforting. Neinoth tried to offer that. Though his movements were not as graceful as they had once been. Hoping that Zorometh was successfully distracting her to allow him to get close enough, he reached for her tail again with his own. While in some cases twining tails was purely sexual, and in other cases was entirely possessive, that was not at all what he was looking for. He also knew it had a calming effect. That was what he was looking for.
Apollath is fine, if slightly scared. I will be alright, I have sustained worse before. Neinoth commented privately to Zorometh. Keep talking to her.
A'lez was solid as a rock and didn't twitch when the Goldrider did. A flung jar was a flung jar, he just hoped whomever she flung it at would be fast enough to catch it instead of getting hit by it. He'd already noticed that R'gar was pretty quick about catching things. Having the door to the room open and D'seus walk in wasn't something he was prepared for at that very moment, but he was glad to see who it was - if only through the fastest and briefest of glances before his attention was returned to the rather irritated woman before him.
What she said ... was amazing. And entirely unbelievable. If there were that many Golds, there would be a shitton of dragons. If there were that many dragons, they would have been seen. Not only that, the vast majority of Pern wouldn't be as ravaged by Thread as it was. She was delusional. But yet ... where had she come from then? A'lez was still trying to sort through all of that when D'seus had made his statement. That, too, caught him off guard and earned the other Bronzer a rather strange look.
It also got a look from R'gar. That was a question that he usually asked patients who had gotten a solid knock to the head. More of a comprehension thing. R'gar looked at the Goldrider again, then, considering. It was possible she'd gotten a knock to the head, but he really didn't see how that was relevant to the current situation. He certainly hadn't heard the first whispers of Timing, and as such the thought never occurred to him.
A'lez cleared his throat and looked over at the tense woman again, slowly lowering his extended hand back to his own side. "That would explain a lot, depending on your answer." He added, having come to a similar thought as D'seus had. Pern hadn't had that many Queens, that many Weyrs in a very, very long time. "But I assure you I do not lie. I rather like to think that we do exist, after all. That we're not figments of our own imaginations." Not to mention that he was a pretty powerful figment of her imagination too, since he'd carried her off of her dragon already. "I assure you that I am not lying to you. I am A'lez, this is D'seus of Bronze Zorometh." He introduced, hopefully to help drive the point home. "What is your name? Where did you come from?"
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Post by Lady Smara on Oct 21, 2011 9:01:28 GMT -5
Hearing another croon and smooth voice, the gold tilted her head so that one eye could remain on Neinoth – who’s name she was finally able to tag to the bronze – while giving a look to the other bronze. Feeling her rider awake once more had worked wonders on the normally calm gold. While the brown baring his teeth irked her, the fact that he remained in such a submissive position eased that irritation. The bronze too, folding his wings and lowering himself beneath her seemed to all combine to work magic as she reguarded them silently for a long, tense moment before refolding her own wings.
He attacked me first. His stole mine. She said simply, as if that was more than enough for her to feel no remorse in the ichor that dripped across his hide. Healer and Weyrleader. Perhaps the hands would not be so clumsy as she had initially feared. And both riders too.
The blond woman, however, was now eyeing the new rider who had stepped quietly into the room to ask yet another question that made the woman seriously believe that they were all delusional. Where they all daft and dimglows?
She even said as much. “Are you all dimglows that you can not even know the turn? Does my head look injured to you?” As if for a moment she questioned herself, she lifted a hand to run it through her own hair, finally lowering the jar in the other one, though she remained backed against the wall next to the bed. “It’s 1152. Winter is in full effect in the north, but golden Elisith has lain a fine clutch none the less in Benden Weyr. Tensions are growing higher in the North, but EVERYONE knows that.”
Watching their reactions as she spoke, she slowed down, studying each in turn carefully – realizing that something was not right. “You called this Weyr, Refuge? … Where. Am. I.?” she asked, punctuating each word. Refuge meant nothing to her – what she was looking for was something… more solid.
Finding a tail caught around hers, the gold lost her composure as she jumped, but only for a moment, her head turning back fully to the bronze dripping Ichor everywhere. She considered biting the insolent bronze again for his lack of respect, but finding his multifaceted eyes tinged with pain, she settled herself once more, allowing him the privilege of setting so close.
Neinoth, you will apologize to me. she said, much more calmly before turning back to the new bronze. You will let me see my rider, yes? she sent to all three of them. It rubbed her the wrong way that she should be phrasing it as a question rather than a statement, but her rider was also sending her calming thoughts, though the gold knew her riders own mind was confused.
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Post by Marnark on Oct 21, 2011 9:26:40 GMT -5
"Eleven fifty-two." A'lez repeated, floored. D'seus had nailed it square on the head. She'd ... she'd just timed it. No wonder she didn't quite make it through conscious... it was a wonder she hadn't just disappeared between to never be seen again. He supposed that to when she came from, that's exactly what she'd done. Finally, he cleared his throat, not sure exactly how to break the news to her. "Did you mean to Time it?" He asked, first. He didn't think she had - for if she had she wouldn't have said some of the things she'd said. She thought she was still in her home time. "Ma'am, it is 1260. We are in the heart of the Southern Continent, one of only two small remaining Weyrs. It is springtime here, right now. Fall in the North. There is only one adult Gold, barring yours. There is hardly anything left of the North, as Thread has ravaged the entire continent unprotected. Until recently, the North believed dragons were nothing more than myths." He supplied.
"This is Refuge Weyr, yes. Haven would be the other, also nestled in Southern jungle. Haven holds our adult Gold."
Neinoth twitched when the Gold jumped, expecting another bite coming his direction. But it didn't. Instead she settled down again. He snugged his tail a bit tighter about hers, hoping to ensure that she stayed calm. I was only trying to help, Lady. I apologize if it seemed otherwise. Mine will bring yours back out as soon as she stops acting like a caged feline. He promised, just as aware of what was going on inside as he was outside - one of the pros of being so well connected with his rider. One of the cons being that A'lez was suffering the same pain that Neinoth was.
"Wait." R'gar said. "What are you talking about? Are you saying she's come here from a different turn?" He asked, clearly astounded at the concept. "How is that possible? Benden is nothing but a landmark mountain." He'd heard the name before ... seen it as only a bump drawn onto a map. No one went there.
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Post by HG on Oct 21, 2011 10:04:51 GMT -5
Indeed. They should know better than to hinder a Queen.[/b] Zorometh said as a way of being placatory. He wondered if the other two needed to be patched up. It would be easy to call for Cupith’s. The blonde was very gentle with him when he was injured. If they insisted it wasn’t that big of a deal, healing could wait. Zorometh might not if it were up to him but it was their choice. The Queen was calming considerably.
D’seus was not sure what to think of being right. Would she attempt to return to her time despite the obvious risks? They really could use her here. Whether she had come to terms with the low numbers yet or not she was making judgments already. Inside that pretty blonde head, there was a brain milling through all the information she was being told. “One hundred and eight Turns is a long time. It explains your disorientation and the panic of your Queen when you came out from Between.” He said trying to give her some logical reasons as to why they were right and she was not just dreaming all of this. No one would dare lie to a Queen, she would know this.
He saw no reason not to give the woman the information she needed to make an educated decision about them. “You say tensions were high? They were. The Lord Holders banished us over 100 Turns ago to the Southern Continent. Benden Weyr combined with Fort and Igen to form Refuge Weyr. Haven Weyr was formed by Telgar, High Reaches and Ista Weyrs.” That should be enough for her to mull over in her head for a little while. The disorientation and distrust was to be expected especially since this seemed to be a complete accident. Timing was dangerous which was why very few people had ever known about it. She and Issarith were lucky to be alive.
D'seus looked at R’gar and smiled, “Dragons have the ability to not only Between places but time as well. As you can see Betweening times is very dangerous for riders and with the time paradoxes that could occur our ancestors thought it best that the fewer people to know about it the better. I only thought it might be possible until now. We know now that it can be done.” R’gar would know better than to go running his mouth and telling people who didn’t need to know. So D’seus spared him the don’t tell anyone speech. He would hopefully not attempt it either. It could do serious harm to people. He could end up walking into himself or creating a time paradox where the history of Pern was altered. Far too dangerous for people to mess with.
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Post by Lady Smara on Oct 21, 2011 10:39:54 GMT -5
”Ma’am, it is 1260.”
What did he just say? Sakorai found herself staring at the man as if he had begun speaking another language all together. Her eyes remained wide and unwavering on him as he spoke, explaining the what and when that she was in now. Durring that time, her mouth had fallen slightly open and her breath had found itself caught in her chest.
Two Weyrs… only two. And one gold? I feel two here, but I do not believe either have flown. The north ravaged by thread? Our enemy has taken our home?!
Shaking her head as if clearing the fog, she slid off the balls of her feet to land heavily on the bed again, motioning with the jar that someone should take it from her as she lifted her free hand to cover her face with a soft moan.
”Benden is nothing but a landmark mountain.”
If nothing else made the facts as clear as they were, the brown rider’s simple statement did just that. The rest of the conversation was lost around her, only picking up a little bit of what D’seus said about disorientation and the North sending them out. That angered her, but her anger did nothing to clear the pure shock that was settling over her.
Over one hundred turns. Everyone she knew was dead, long gone. Even their children were dead or dying of old age. Their grandchildren would be aging and with grandchildren of their own. Looking between each face before her, she finally pulled her knees up to her chest and buried her head in her arms as she held herself.
We must go home! No. Yes! Why not? I almost lost you coming here. I will not risk you again.
“I need a drink…” the woman finally said, muffled beneath her own arms.
Hearing the first bronze apologize, Issarith found herself slightly annoyed by the explanation that followed. She had not needed an explanation, simply an apology. Even so, she accepted it. Hearing the other bronze agreed with her seemed to help in her calming and the conversation she carried on with her rider let the worst of the colors fade as her swirling eyes began to slow to a more comfortable rotation.
My rider and I require a weyr. Pausing and eyeing the bronze who was so closer to her, she sniffed at him before tilting her head away again, as if to show she was still not sorry for biting him. And you need to be seen to before you continue making a mess of me. If my rider is healthy, then the healer can see to you.
As if realizing she may have been behaving a little harshly, she brought her head down from its high tilt, looking at each bronze in turn, even including the brown. You may dolt on me and pay your respects after I have calmed mine. Speaking as if it were the highest privilege she could give them.
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Post by Marnark on Oct 21, 2011 13:10:30 GMT -5
Oops ... gone from rages to shock. Not that it was entirely an unexpected thing, given what she'd just done. A'lez didn't move as she sat down heavily on the bed R'gar had originally laid her down on. The healer was quick to rescue the jar from her hand when she started waving it around. It was quickly nestled back into the bag where it was safe from being possibly flung at people. Closing up the bag securely, R'gar wasn't sure what else use he could be to the situation.
Given what D'seus said about it, and the reaction the woman was having ... R'gar was quite simply amazed. Downright floored actually. Dragons could travel through time? It was a concept that was most difficult to wrap his mind around to be sure. He could only imagine what it was like for her - she'd done it. Apparently by accident. And now where was she? A long ways from home, and everyone she knew was dead. Even her home was gone ... as he'd so blithely pointed out just a moment before. R'gar rather regretted having said what he'd said. But he'd been struggling to follow what was going on, himself.
The poor woman looked like she needed a hug, at that. Not a drink. Though a drink might help some too. A'lez nodded to R'gar, who rather gratefully left the room with his bag. Given previous statements, the healer knew exactly where he was going, too. Outside.
Slowly, and cautious against startling her, A'lez moved toward where she sat balled up on the bed. "Neinoth says your dragon wishes to see you. After that I can take you anywhere you wish to go." He offered, extending a hand to her.
Neinoth huffed. He'd very carefully used his uninjured side against the Gold, and yet she still complained of his making a mess of her. His puddle wasn't nearly so big as to reach her toes, so what was her problem? Whatever the case, he wasn't about to argue with her. She was calm - at least for the moment. He unwound himself from her and limped away, over toward one of the dragon entrances of the infirmary. Mine says there are available weyrs. One large enough to suit you comfortable is available in the highest tier. Lifting his head, he indicated one of the many large openings up high with his snout. That one is empty. But it is unused so long it is dusty. Mine will send people to clean it up if you wouldn't mind waiting. He settled to the ground stiffly and rolled over onto his good side as R'gar emerged from the infirmary with a new bag. This one loaded with goods specifically for treating dragon-wounds.
He'd gotten rather good at treating dragon-wounds after the Holdless attack. His own dragon had had so very many of them, after all. While he braced his feet against various places of Neinoth's body, R'gar started cleaning the wounds out. The work started a fresh flow of ichor, but the great Bronze was silent for the ministrations.
Apollath rose from his crouch and padded away from the door, following the Bronze over to the other entrance. That was where His was, after all. His whole point of being where he'd been was to safeguard His. Not that His was in danger anymore. Welcome to Refuge. Apollath mentioned, actually having something to say now.
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Post by HG on Oct 21, 2011 20:49:34 GMT -5
Looking at her, he knew that things were beginning to come into focus. Good, hopefully she would understand exactly how dire their situation was. The two healthy young Golds they had was a start but they needed more clutches. If they were lucky they might have enough dragons to protect part of the North for a time. As of right now they could not, especially not when one kept under consideration the number of people who could be injured and killed during a Fall.
D’seus was not going to spend too long lingering over the woman. She probably wanted some space and her weyr in order. “If you’d permit Weyrleader, I would be happy to make sure her weyr is ready for her arrival.” Emera would have already sent people to clean it but he was going to get some personalized things from his own weyr. Things he didn’t use or need but made a place feel more like home. Oh and he would be certain to place a skin of wine in there too. If she wanted a drink he coud not blame her for it. He knew this had to be difficult. Worse than those poor Northern kids had it when they arrived. Issarith’s arrival would be no secret to his riders. D’seus would have to calm rumors for the time being until A’lez decided how he wanted the situation dealt with. For now though he had enough to deal with. Zorometh was pleased with himself, she had calmed considerably. Doting on her would be a good waste of time right now. She neither felt it was necessary nor cared much for their presence at the moment.
My rider commands my attention as well, Queen Issarith. I will dote on you at your convenience. Now I must take my leave. The Bronze tried to be as suave as Neinoth. He wasn’t as touchy feely at first with the Queens. Perhaps he needed flight to make him feel lovey with them. He wasn’t one to grow too attached to other dragons. While he liked the relationship he had with Aeriath he was not as put off by the recent split as his rider was. There were other Golds in the skies to chase after.
D’seus walked towards his dragon thinking A’lez had things well looked after. He bowed to the Queen before mounting Zorometh. They had things to do now. Making sure the Queenrider had everything she could need in her new weyr was of upmost importance to him. The more comfortable she was the more likely she would not attempt to Between back right away.
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Post by Lady Smara on Oct 21, 2011 22:46:04 GMT -5
She heard first the offer to be taken to her gold, then the request for permission to be excused to ready a weyr. Well she would certainly need a place to sleep, but she was not sure how long she would be staying. Her mind was completely for the idea of talking Issarith into taking her back to her own time. At least she knew the weyrs were a success down there – well… except for the obvious decline of dragon numbers. What had killed off so many? Everything was healthy when she had left for her own expedition south to find the locations of new Weyrs.
No, she had to go back – now it was a duty, to warn the Weyrs of the decline so that they might better prepare and ward against it. Lifting her gaze, she attempted to firm her resolve as she turned to the man who was now Weyrleader. A’lez. A’lez of Bronze Neinoth. And the other – a wingleader by his knots – was D’seus of Bronze Zorometh.
While she couldn’t quite grasp what the brown riders name had been quite at this moment, her mind lost in the confusion of what was going on, she could at least grasp at the bronze riders names. Good – she might need them before leaving. Taking a deep breath, she stood up and ran a hand through her short blond hair which was currently a mess from being windswept from racing the dragonriders of HER TURN such a short time ago.
“I’m sorry, you asked and I failed to answer. My name is Sakorai of Gold Issarith. We hail from Telgar Weyr, one of only two currently blessed with Jr Golds – I happen to be the Jr due to the misfortune of the old hag continuing to fly.” She wrinkled her nose at this, then stopped, realizing how she had phrased it. “I guess it would not be currently.”
Lifting a hand to her head again, she let out another groan. “Yes. Issarith needs to see me. Then I would like to see the WeyrHall.” And get a stiff drink.
You come, mine? The gold said, perking up and swinging her head away from watching the bronze being treated to the door her rider had disappeared into. Instantly on her feet again, she made her way to the door, crouching down there and waiting patiently. She had thanked the brown for the welcome a moment before, but now she was completely absorbed in washing her rider with love and affection as she made her way outside – the gold trying her best to remain patient.
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Post by Marnark on Oct 23, 2011 9:24:30 GMT -5
A'lez gave a single nod to D'seus, giving him the go-ahead to do as he saw fit to prepare a weyr. D'seus had lived with a woman for awhile, A'lez was confident he was competent in preparing a space for another one. Especially if the Headwoman was involved, which he suspected would be the case. Word spread like wild fire when news happened in the sky over the Weyrbowl.
Her name. It was Sakorai. A'lez made a mental note to go look that name up in the records. It would give him a good idea what was going on in her time ... and what had happened. Whether or not she made it back successfully if she decided to go. Something he hoped she wouldn't do for many and sundry obvious reasons. Clearly she had barely survived this time-jump, and she'd conveniently landed in a Weyrbowl where there was help. What about next time?
As she rose, A'lez stepped over and offered her an arm. For more reasons than the apparent few. Mostly because he could tell she still wasn't quite adjusted yet to what ha happened, and something steady to hang onto might do her good. "There is no shame in being a Junior Weyrwoman." A'lez told her. Especially not when your beast is as fine a specimen as yours is." Granted, in this day and time any Gold was a fine specimen, conformation aside.
Once she was ready to proceed, A'lez led her out of the building to where her Gold awaited her. Opening the door, he allowed Sakorai to precede him through. Following her out to where the Gold was waiting, he closed the infirmary door behind them and patiently waited as the two were reacquainted.
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