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Post by Shikai on Aug 5, 2008 0:06:55 GMT -5
D’rom wiped a hand across his brow to clear the gathering perspiration, looking skyward dolefully. Rukbat was at its zenith and blazing away, casting nearly unbearable rays of heat down upon Araelen. “It’s no time to be outside, unless it’s for a trip to the lake…” The wingleader muttered, and Faerth rumbled in agreement from his side. D’rom applied the last bit of oil to his dragon’s brown hide, eliciting a grateful croon from the dragon. Ah, that feels wonderful![/color] The brown said, his eyelids half closed in pleasure. The heat had greatly dried his skin, though it was only midday, and D’rom hadn’t hesitated to oil the creature right away despite the weather.
“Good! All done then? No more itchy spots?” D’rom asked, his eyes narrowed as he inspected his dragon’s hide. Faerth stretched experimentally. Yes, you did an excellent job! I feel much better now.[/color] D’rom let a sigh of relief escape his lips. “Ah, good. Let’s get inside. Maybe we can sleep through the worst of the heat today.”
However, the brownrider’s hopes for a quiet afternoon were squashed as Faerth froze, lifting his head up and looking toward the weyr. D’rom, caught up in his thoughts, more or less ignored his dragon’s behavior, although he did cast a glance at his brown. “Coming, Faerth?” He called, but the brown didn’t respond. “Faerth?”
And then he sensed it – a hum, slowly beginning to seep through the weyr. Granted, he was outside, but fairly close to the hatching caverns. Besides, the brownrider had seen a great number of hatchings, and recognized the vibration in the air sooner than most. “Shards…” He mumbled, running a hand through his hair. “Today? It figures.” Faerth, however, let out a loud, exuberant bugle of happiness. THE HATCHING! D’rom, the eggs are hatching! Come, we must go and welcome the new dragons![/color] He said, adding his voice enthusiastically to the growing hum in the weyr. The brown butted his rider affectionately, nearly knocking the older rider over. Come, don’t be like that! You should be excited.[/color] He chided, and D’rom grinned ruefully at him, walking toward the hatching sands. “You’re right, you’re right. It’s just so hot today…I don’t envy the candidates! As if the sands weren’t hot enough as it is.”
The pair entered the sands, and Faerth swooped up to the dragonheights as D’rom took his place in the stands. He sat at about the middle height, wanting a good view but not enough to sit too close to the blazing sands below. His eyes narrowed as he peered at the eggs, looking to see how many were shaking. A surprising number were swaying and shuddering already, the dragons inside throwing themselves heartily into the difficult task that awaited them. Well, that was a good sign. A few, particularly the Fog Egg and the Lava Spray Egg were nearly motionless, while the Scorching Sands Egg and the Hurricane Egg were rocking with noteworthy intensity. Yet with this particular clutch and its unusual highs and lows in dragon personalities, it was anyone’s guess as to which would manage to break through first…
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Gust Egg - Green Minath : Rhea Fog Egg - Blue Basyth : Cilnah Crisp Autumn Evening Egg - Brown Atoth : Aclaryn Clouds at Dusk Egg - Green Esmerelth : Loana Scorching Sands Egg - Bronze Vicroth : Fallen Lava Spray Egg - Brown Porth : Jermashi Hailstorm Egg - Bronze Dacrith : Farallen Sandstorm Egg - Bronze Danteth : Sun Yew Monsoon Egg - Green Scherazoth : Deverel Hurricane Egg - Green Miladath : Andhrimnir Radiant Sun Egg - Gold Ezelth : Crown Stormy Night Egg - Blue Raouth : Kanamar Softly Falling Snow Egg - Green Elinth : Brinne Tsunami Egg - Blue Harkth : Eddin Meteor Shower Egg - Blue Cantrionth : Laerel Thunder Egg - Bronze Dartagnath : Hauze Volcano Blast Egg - Blue Silvrith : Iraink Firestorm Egg - Green Emmith : Emberlyn Drought Egg - Brown Ferth : Kimber Earthquake Egg - Brown Helksinth : Kalaessran Spring Rain Egg - Blue Aladath : Aylana Dawn’s Breaking Egg - Brown Rhobith : Caltrain Whirlpool Egg - Brown Wickhath : Treylis Jungle Downpour Egg - Blue Jeklyth : Kyeidahel
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Post by .K.aci on Aug 5, 2008 11:33:32 GMT -5
As the hum rent the air, several things happened.
1. Kal spilled Klah all over himself in startlement, having just pulled an all-nighter to help a badly hurt rider. 2. Hauze, who had been living in the stables for the past two or three sevendays to watch a pregnant runner woke with a start, very confused. 3. Kanamar fell into the lake and Deverel kept sleeping, streached out on the grass. 4. Crown began to throw a fit because she wasn't allowed to go to the Hatching, shoved back into the hot kitchens by the Headwoman with a growl.
Let me go in deeper for you, and tell the story of each of the poor creatures.
Kal had, the night before, been cleaning up in the Infirmary, getting people comfortable and those that had hurt themselves in wing practice, or a herder that had been trampled by an excited runner. Indeed, everyone had been fine until a Searchrider erupted into the skies, badly hurt, his dragon bugling for the world to hear. Reha and Toth, a pretty Green, had been out Searching, and the woman had been stabbed in the back. The only Journeyman Healer in the infirmary at the time, Kal had stayed up, trying to stem the blood and keep the girl alive. It wasn't until the very wee hours in the morning, and Kal had refused to stop trying to help her, that she had been pronounced stable. Even then, the intense man had refused to leave her side, keeping watch until the Weyrhealer had come over later in the day and demanded the exhusted boy get some sleep.
Apparently, that wasn't soon in coming, as he tried to ignore the heat and take a sip from the cup of klah that he had been offered by an apprentice. Indeed, with the cup raised to his lips and the sweet nectar being poured down his aching throat, a sudden noise in the air startled his frazzled mind and jarred his arm, making him spill klah all down his front. A startled yelp escaped from his throat as yells of, "The hatching, the hatching!" echoed up and down. Poor Kal, tired and bleary-eyed tried to remember what that ment. One of the apprentices, who felt bad for him, took a tub of cold water that they had just melted as a drink, and dumped it over his head.
"YOW!"
His yell was enough to wake him up slightly, and the apprentices, who liked the kind Journeyman, shoved the white-robe that he had taken with him as instructed, at him. He pulled off his shirt and threw on the robe, more awake now and cursing the hatching as he sprinted outside, gasping at the heat, and into the sands. It seemed as though he was the first one, but he took no mind, short hair sodden and sticking up in all places as he filed onto the sands, bowing to the Queen and then staring intently at the eggs.
The story of one, the other's to come.
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Post by Cilnah on Aug 5, 2008 12:36:12 GMT -5
Cilnah had taken to the lake to escape the devilish heat of the day. Canine and flitter where playing happily in the shallows together, Makamae's fear of the creature long forgotten. The two seemed to have become good friends. For her part, the girl was out in the deeper waters, diving and swimming peacefully. Her head was ducked under, and she was about ten feet from the surface when the water around her started to vibrate. In an instant, curiosity took hold and her head popped up, only to be filled with a low, barely perceptible humming that was steadily growing in intensity. Her eyes widened. "The Hatching!" she sputtered, scrambling towards the banks as fast as her limbs could carry her.
As she sloshed out, the girl cast a quick glance around. There was no one about except for her pets, so without modesty she pulled of her soaking undergarments and slipped into the dry pair she had brought along with her, the material sticking to her wet skin in a way that would have made her displeased had she the time to think about it. But as it was, she had no time to worry about such things. She had to hurry, lest the dragonets start to make their appearance in the world without her there to see. Once she thought she was semi-presentable, she reached down and scooped up the white robes she had been keeping with her since the eggs had started to harden out on the Sands, in case of a time just like this, where she was not near enough the candidate's barracks to dash back and change in time. Lucky for her she had thought to grab it.
The thing clung to her skin, unfortunately molding to form, and where her wet hair fell down her back, shining a dark blue in the midday sun, there was a definite bit of moisture spreading across the material. "I hope I do not offend, showing up like this," she confessed to her companions, scooping up the flitter and setting him on Tepo's back, instructing the canine with a stern 'home' that he knew meant he was supposed to go back to his sleeping place. Cilnah watched them off for a few paces before donning her sandals and picking up her dripping clothes, taking off full sprint towards the hatching sands. She dumped them in an obscure corner as she came closer to the cavern.
Heat came down on her in an even more oppressing manner as she dashed out across the Sands, dancing from one foot to the other in an effort to keep the souls from burning. This was the third time she would stand for Impression, but it never ceased to amaze her just how hot the place was. She couldn't help but continue to shift her weight from side to side as she took her place among the other candidates, her eyes firmly on the shaking and shuddering eggs. She could feel her heart beating faster and stronger than it had in a long, long time. Maybe, just maybe, she would finally join the ranks of the Dragonriders.
But if not, there was at least one good thing about the day. At least her clothes would be well dried.[/size]
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Post by .K.aci on Aug 5, 2008 13:30:27 GMT -5
The next of the line is very simple, and I do not hesitate to torture her absolutely, although she brings it upon herself.
Crown was, at the moment, getting yelled at. She had been getting yelled at for about ten minutes now, and she was rather bored of the whole thing. Again caught sneaking off, she had been brought back to the headwoman, who began to berate her. First, the girl never did her work, shirking it all the time. Then, it was the talking to those above her rank. She was a drudge, did she think herself better than the rest of them, a Lady Holder?
Here, Crown had bitten her lip in an effort to stop from explaining that yes, she did think she was better than them - she knew it. The only reason she had agreed to become a drudge, besides that brat of a Holder who had sent her here, was that she would Impress her Bronze, a might creature who would eat anybody who didn't respect her. She would be free at last, free to do whatever she wanted, breath fire and completly terrify the wits out of the Hold that had ditched her, and then she would find her brother and rub it in his face.
Her brother... That led her to another sticky mess. While indeed, Crown mad friends with many of the riders (or pissed off the others), she had made friends first with M'kel, the Weyrleader. Well, she had made friends with his Bronze, really. But the male had been up on her list of alright people... Until he got mad at her twin brother's for being over-protective of her, and decided that he would Search them, just because it would annoy the hell out of them. They had never really forgiven dragons for dragging away Hauze from them. So now they were Candidates, and she was still hiding her rank from them. Just brushing it off that she was a weyrmember, they weren't sure what she was, but somebody had told them she was a candidate.
A sigh as she mulled this over, and the Headwoman realized she wasn't listening. That was, of course, the last straw. Every other drudge was dull eyed and did their work accordingly. This girl had come to the Weyr like that, trying to fit in, but then, for some Faranth-forsaken reason, she had decided that she was better than them, and had become bright-eyed and as annoying as she could.
"That is final, you are now done. Banned to the kitchens, and don't even think about setting foot outside to look at the Hatching."
For the hum had just started, and Crown gave a start, and then a wail.
"But! But!! No!!!"
But dragged off she was, straight to the kitchens and put to work turning the meat-stick, sobbing in her mind that her Bronze was going to die but looking as mad as a storm cloud as she bit her lip to keep from mouthing off. Mouthing off only got her smacked.
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Post by **Auria (etc)** on Aug 5, 2008 13:40:51 GMT -5
Penna roused, just barely, groggy and cranky. She had gotten very little sleep two nights before, because Plianth had been so restless. Finally having convinced an apprentice healer to sneak her a bit of fellis, she'd finally slept soundly ... but in that odd, dreamless, disturbed sleep the drug brought on. She felt like she had cotton in her mouth, and her head was buzzing with an odd hum....
She drank a sip of the (warm, ugh) water that sat by her bedside in the queenrider's alcove of the hatching grounds. It helped the dry mouth, but the humming was still bothering her.
The humming.
HUMMING!
It was only then that the pride in her dragon's mind touched her, and she rushed to the entrance to peek out at the sands.
Shards! There were already people arriving. Plianth sat behind the clutch, wings extended, thrumming a deep tune that called all the other dragons to the grounds. Well, no time for a bath and dressing ...
Instead, heart racing, she pulled a tunic and skirt (slightly wrinkled) over her head, slipped into the wood-soled clogs she kept by the alcove entrance, and stepped out into the Hatching grounds ... hoping everyone would be far too absorbed in the eggs, which were already starting to rock, to notice the disarray of the Queen's rider!
Wishing she had a nice hot cup of klah (Oh, Plianth, dearheart, could you contact Seath for me?) she stepped beside her dragon, and the frizz of her hair looked like a halo against the burnished gold of Plianth's outstretched wings.
The eggs, already active, absorbed even her attention. The Scorching Sands egg, with its powerful persona, was practically ready to roll into the nearby Tsunami egg, which began to tremble and shudder as if in response to its clutchmate's activity.
Penna held her breath, no longer caring what her hair looked like ... though she really did want that klah.
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Post by M'kel on Aug 5, 2008 13:52:18 GMT -5
Today was not a good day for M'kel. The Weyleader was feeling quite under the weather, and he had no idea why. His head was pounding, his stomach was queasy, and the corridors of the Weyr seemed to swim before his eyes. I must be coming down with a terrible illness, he thought to himself. I will die in this neverending maze, and my body will never be found...
You know very well why you feel ill! A cold voice cut in, drenching his fevered thoughts with blessed clarity, despite the painful ringing the voice's suddenness left behind.
"Owwwwwww," M'kel moaned in response, ceasing in his sluggish progress down the corridor to lean against the wall. "Tirenth...that hurrrrrrt..." He didn't even bother to keep the words contained in his mind, gripping his head with sweat-slick palms.
It's your own fault. The voice was still reprimanding, although it held a touch of sympathy this time. Tirenth didn't like to feel his rider hurting, after all.
Alright, maybe M'kel did know why he was feeling sick. Maybe he had had a bit too much wine last night, and maybe he had done the same thing rather frequently in the past few sevendays...but Tirenth could hardly blame him for that! It was very stressful being the Weyrleader, even without the additional stress caused by the Weyrwoman he had been strapped to in order to gain that title. When Tirenth had tried to Fly Plianth...the fact that the other gold had laid a Clutch at all, threatening Aviciath's seniority...the fiasco at the Gather...his inability to seek the attention of less anxiety-inducing women... Yes, M'kel had many reasons to overindulge, of late.
As he leaned against the cool wall, trying to gather his murky thoughts into a clear enough picture to guide his feet to the Kitchens, where he could be saved by merciful klah, his dizziness only increased. The corridor was not only difficult to see, it had begun to move as well. "Maybe I should just go back to bed," he moaned, feeling as if the very wall behind his back was vibrating.
The Hatching! Tirenth's voice interrupted these contemplative thoughts, bringing a wave of misery and dread to his rider.
"Not today!" M'kel nearly sobbed, tipping his head back against the wall.
The great bronze took sympathy on his rider then. Come back, M'kelmine, and I will fly you.
Thank you, came the grateful whisper, and the bronzerider took a few, slow steps back to the doorway of his weyr (it had seemed like a much greater distance on his way out...), clambered onto Tirenth's back (with much assistance), and held on for dear life as the bronze winged as gently as possible into the Hatching Ground, trying his hardest not to let his dizzy rider fall off. The heat of the sands made an already swooning M'kel nearly collapse, and he settled meekly beside Tirenth up on the ledge with the other dragons, hoping no one would notice his state while the great bronze began to hum.
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Post by meah on Aug 5, 2008 14:14:02 GMT -5
Rhea was singing softly to herself, stroking Keetay. She suddenly found her tune completely thrown off by--a hum. She almost screamed when she realized what that meant. That hatching was starting.
With a squeal, she launched herself toward the door to the candidates' quarters and practically flew of her own accord to the hatching grounds. She had been looking forward to this almost since she was born, or so it seemed to her, and she had determined ages ago that she wanted to witness each and every egg hatch.
That would give all the adorable dragonets a chance to examine her to see if she would be the right choice for them. It was only fair that they should see their choices before they made one.
That thought dragged her back to the candidates' quarters, where she started to yell as loudly as she could some excited gibberish about a hatching. She then ran like the dickens back to the hatching grounds and was relieved to find that none of the eggs had even cracked yet.
Iraink literally fell off his bed at the sound of the humming. Sidhka flew down and, after verifying that he was indeed alright (not flustered with a head wound or some such nonsense), proceeded to chew on his right ear.
"Shards, Sheek. Would you let go of my head? I'm coming"
He wasn't sure where he was going, but she only did that when she needed him to do something or go somewhere. Sighing, he got up off the ground, shivering at the sound of his voice mixed with the humming.
Iraink glanced around and saw all the other boys who had been in their room running out of their room at varying speeds. Something was going on, and he would probably want to check it out.
He sighed again and began to follow the other candidates to the hatching ground, with a hurried warning to Sidhka that whatever was going to happen might be dangerous for her.
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Post by B'kay on Aug 5, 2008 14:49:08 GMT -5
Caltrain was muttering under his breath, as he finished chopping up the last of the meat. Even the joyful overtones of Rapture singing on his head couldn't totally cool him -- early as it was, the sun was already scorching, and his neck was burned and running with rivulets of sweat. The meat, the second of two large carcasses, was piled high in the wheeled cart, and the little Beastmaster thanked his helpers as he headed for the kitchens. The staff there would continue to chop the large chunks into bite sized ones, and haul it to the Hatching Grounds.
He eyed the handiwork as he went, pleased that he'd had enough help to make quick work of the herdbeasts, and thankful, too, that he now had a lovely little flitter who gave him warning of glad tidings even before he saw the dragons winging their way toward the Caverns.
The kitchen was a mass of confusion as he entered. Pots were boiling, ovens roaring with heat, and staff running hither and yon in a frenzy. The headwoman was screaming at various drudges about feast preparations, and seemed to be in even more sour a mood than usual.
Caltrain wheeled the cart, praying it wasn't dripping blood, toward the chopping tables where some of the workers were already hefting cleavers and knives.
He looked around to see if anyone was already taking meat to the grounds, decided not to dare actually asking, and quietly grabbed a large tub of pre-cut chunks and crept from the kitchens. Rapture, sweet thing that he was, however, warbled a happy adieu as they left, and Caltrain could hear the headwoman screaming something about flitters in the food as his creep broke into a jog.
He reached the caverns, wonder on his face, as he saw the pulsing, rocking eggs. The very air seemed to be alive, between the excitement and the phenomenal humming of the dragons. Little Rapture raised himself tall on Caltrain's shoulder and joined in, his high pitch soprano rising in harmony above the dragon baritone.
The Beastmaster looked up to see a lithe green dragon swoop in, land by the bleachers, deposit several guests, and then lift off to the heights. Igrainth and Ravyna had arrived, and there, not far down the line, were blue Alabanth and Gaylen.
He wondered whether to find a seat or not, but chose instead to make another kitchen run first. While there, as he grabbed another newly filled tub of meat, he caught the headwoman's ear.
"Pardon, ma'am," he said meekly, "But the eggs are rocking. I see how busy you are, but, um, perhaps you could spare some meat-haulers--"
At that the woman turned and glared at him, effectively shutting his mouth.
"Never mind," he muttered, as he scurried back toward the caverns with the meat. Setting it down with the other, he then headed for the bleachers, and chose the nearest spot. If drudges didn't start arriving with more very soon, he'd make another run ... but at least there was something to begin with should the eggs start to crack.
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Post by Flamewolf on Aug 5, 2008 19:58:49 GMT -5
The hums were about again.
Kyeidahel froze, in his room, arguing with himself (literally). Sun Yew jumped up a mile while trying to sneak up on a drudge, making her drop her try of food, and when she turned around he was sprinting away, laughing.
Kyeidahel, Ky's personality prominent now, was the first of the two to get to the sands. Since he was in his room, with the help of Hel, he was able to get on the candidate robe, the boots, and into the hatching sands with little to no mistakes. Ky was silently muttering about the heat of the sands, Hel meanwhile directing him among the males and making him stand in silence. Awwwkwwardd.
It took Sun Yew MUCH longer to get there, however. After running from the drudge he actually had to try and find what was going on. And then once he did, he had to bolt to his room, change quickly, and stumble into the hatching sands. He ran to the line of male candidates, leaning over to catch his breath, when he realized that his robe was on backwards. Oy. That's what he got for being a little late.
((Sorry that's so crappy, I'm getting kicked off x.x))
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Post by .K.aci on Aug 5, 2008 20:59:04 GMT -5
The third now... Hauze had not been in the Candidate's Barracks for awhile. Infact, he hadn't seen any of the candidates except for the red-haired Brinne when he had done chores with her. Other than that, he had attached himself to the beastmaster's side and was assigned to the pregnant runner that had produced a beautiful stock so far, but had a history of troubled births. So sleeping in the stables for a few sevendays (he really didn't mind, animals were more nice anyway), he, Amora and Ritan had been comfortable...
Well, comfortable enough. The runner had been showing signs of giving birth that night, and so Hauze had stayed up with her until she decided that she was going to sleep - so he stretched out next to her in the hay and had fallen asleep too... Of course, well the next day he was jolted awake by a franticly clawing Brown Ritan as he tried to scramble up his shirt.
"Wah?"
Ritan was crawling up his shirt, humming wildly, panicking at the noise that seemed to surround the weyr and mold into the very walls. At first he was confused, trying to figure out what that ment, but a sleep fuddled mind was quickly snapped awake as he realized...
THE HATCHING.
Sprinting out of the stall, although he did look back to check on her, he had a moment of indecision when he fell on the perfect solution.
"Ritan... Stay here. You don't want to go out there, it's scary."
With a squeak, the Brown dove under the hay, agreeing.
"Now, you have to do something. When the runner start's giving birth..."
And this was accompanied by a picture of her standing up, braying, something coming out of her body,
"You come and get me, okay?"
The flitter, suddenly afraid of the birthing process, dove back up to attach itself to his neck.
"Hush, hush, it's alright... I'll leave Amora here, alright?"
The brown, after much time, had decided that Amora was a protector, and the slightly motherly feline (large, rangy, and very dangerous looking) had enjoyed taking care of the tan flit. Indeed, it was perfect, for Amora would not be allowed on the sands, and making the mother mad with Ritan there would be bad. So, pressing into his mind firmly to STAY, Hauze was out the door and shoving himself into his robes, out of the stable, straight to the Sands, where other's had been flying in, hurried and despite the heat, pale. He was calm, collected, walking in. If he would Impress, his would be there. No need to panic.
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