The Dawnflames are the uppermost Wing. In the middle are the Stormchasers, Cloudbandits, and Winddancers, from left to right. The Seablades are the lowermost Wing (except for the Queen's Wing, of course).
Ravyna and Igrainth side-swiped Emberlyn and Emmith, causing minor injuries to Igrainth’s right side and a major injury to Emmith’s right leg. Both riders were unharmed.
N’ryl’s Gryth later suffered a minor injury to his tail when it was caught in the path of Rhea’s Minath’s flame.
Brinne and Elinth had a near miss, almost swerving into C’train and Rhobith’s path.
Cilnah was struck by Thread on her left side, but it was a minor injury, as Basyth took her between quickly enough to kill the Thread before much damage was done.
H’run and Gawyth, C’train and Rhobith, and N’ryl and Grith all had near misses, barely evading writhing clumps of Thread.
Candidates can assist in the Healing Caverns/with filling firestone sacks if they like.
The weather at Boulderisland Hold was particularly dreary today, the dark waves crashing against the shore with a vengeance beneath the cloudy sky. It looks like it's going to rain. If Thread showed up here, we'd be golden. D'gellin directed Lancetoth farther from the the cliff side, away from the chilly spray of the sea. The bronze however, was suddenly tense, hesitating before the next downward beat of wings. Lan-?
Thread has begun to fall! Lancetoth suddenly announced. D'gellin felt a cool chill of fear run down his spine, eyes darting about as if expecting Thread to swallow them whole on the spot but before he could question this new revelation, Lancetoth had taken them between to Araelen, a warning message sent to their search pair just in case. "Where is it?" D'gellin demanded as he slid off Lancetoth's back in the Bowl, shivering with the left-over chill of between and what was probably nerves. This would be his first Threadfall as a Wingleader, the only one of Lancetoth's clutch to have attained the status. It was both humbling and empowering.
Saltsprings Hold. Silvrith and His saw it. The bronze replied distractedly, feeling the weight of their new position as well. There was no uncertainty, however, when he called his wing to action. STORMCHASERS TO ME! There was no need to clarify the enemy was Thread, much of the Weyr was already roused and in the act of preparation. D'gellin's stomach felt like ice as he fed his bronze firestone, struggling to master himself while the world seemed to tilt and spin. There had been a number of close calls in the past, but Lancetoth and D'gellin had suffered little in the first Fall. He had to trust that their experience would only turn the tide for the better...though that didn't stop his hands from shaking nor slow his anxious heart-beat.
Mine! Vicroth's head swung up, eyes whirling in alarm as he gazed out of the weyr, muscles trembling. Fallen struggled to pull himself to consciousness, still hampered by the weighty feeling of suddenly being jolted from a nap. His mind searched the bronze's in question, running a hand over his face. Thread, Fallen! We fly! That got his attention. The young man was on his feet in seconds, launching himself onto Vicroth's back via proffered foreleg. The bronze didn't question His' silence. Both felt the mutual wary anticipation, but Vicroth was born to fight Thread, and Fallen had vowed to protect the Holds. Cringing away from their new responsibility would not be tolerated.
The young rider nodded brusquely to M'kel as he joined the wing, feeding Vicroth fire stone in that mindless practiced manner that they had gone over so many times before. Thread was the menace he had berated the Weyr for calling wolf on. Knowing he would now be fighting the ancient menace was enough to keep his tongue in check, as well as his allegiance.
When the call came, Q'tris moved without hesitation. Practice and experience had him at the bowl and in the midst of preparation in little time, expression set in a determined frown. We will be fine, love. I am quite recovered and we will not make the same mistake twice. Minth assured Hers, accepting the fire stone automatically. The greenrider looked up at his beautiful companion, pained eyes tracing the length of the green's Thread-scored hide. No, we will certainly not make a mistake like that again. He agreed grimly.
Brueth will make sure that his Minth is especially safe. Brell's blue declared bravely as he and his rider joined Minth and Q'tris, large eyes whirling uneasily.
I would be happier if you took care of yourself first, Brueth! The green replied emphatically, nuzzling her dear friend between accepting fire stone.
Q'tris, Candidatemaster, of green Minth Brell of blue Brueth
P'neil watched through slitted eyes at the Wings gathering in the Weyrbowl as he fed Artoneth the necessary firestone. He counted the milling bodies. When it seemed all had been accounted for, he swept his eyes across the 'bowl to each of the Wingleaders. He would have to rely heavily on their experience, for he had little of - He started when he met B'kay's gaze. The bronzerider was looking to him as one would... one's Weyrleader. Sure, he'd had the privileges, he'd been tolerated in the position of leader, but this was the first time he'd been looked to with such respect.
Artoneth's impatient interjection called P'neil back to his duty. All were assembled, as far as could be told. It was time. The new Weyrleader took a deep breath, then pumped his arm in the air. "To the skies!" he bellowed as Artoneth roared in unison and sprang into the air. Now was the time to fight.
Once again, the winds were playing tricks on the riders, and Thread escaped the upper wing, randomly shifting here and there.
Igrainth, agile and alert, had flamed down a number of tangles that passed their way, determined to not let much get past her.
More Stone! She called back, turning her maw to her rider.
Ravyna, eyes open, scanning the skies, tossed a large chunk between the dragon's teeth.
As the green turned back to position, a large tangle drifted suddenly into her path.
Aarh! She roared as she flamed, catching the thread and shifting sideways to avoid the char.
Emmith! she cried out, the claw-rake down her side oozing ichor and stinging.
"Igrainth! Are you alright?" Ravyna called outloud, straining her neck to see if she could see the injury.
Just a scratch ... but I think Emmith is injured!
C'train's heart raced. It seemed like Thread was everywhere! He strained to keep track, always seeming to spot the tangle a second after Rhobith had already flamed it.
He wondered if he'd ever be a good dragonrider -- and simultaneously thanked the Egg he had such a confident, agile (for a brown) dragon!
Rhobith swerved to avoid a large clump of thread that suddenly shifted into their path, flaming as he did so. The thread caught satisfyingly, flaring up and becoming ash.
It had come so close that the heat of Rhobith's flame and the charring ash caused C'train's face to feel as if he'd been in the sun too long!
Quickly, the brown dragon, amber streaks glowing like a vein of gemstone through his hide, was back in formation, flaming, blinking between, flaming again, with his comrades.
C'train prayed that this would get easier with practice....
Syth was on the mark. He called orders to the Seablades, helping them to stay in formation, all the while alert to any Thread that passed near him. B'kay was at his best, focused, eyes open, grateful that his sight had come back in full force.
The 'Blades were flaming well, moving as one.
And it was a good thing! By the time Thread got through the upper wings, it had been blown about and shifted, so any pattern of Fall was pretty much obliterated.
The pair fought with fury and intensity like B'kay had never known. They were determined not to let a single tangle past their lower wing.
Post by **Auria (etc)** on Jun 13, 2009 7:46:46 GMT -5
Sweat covered Auria's brow and ran down the sides of her face, wetting her long hair with salty heat. She didn't have time to wipe it away, and rued the fact that she hadn't thought to wear a head band.
Stone stank, and she wondered if she'd ever get the lingering sulfurous odor off her hands. She filled sack after sack, passing it up the line to those who were tossing it into the air as a dragon blinked from between. She had not had much practice at this ... and hoped she'd get better at it.
"No, girl, vary the size of the stone! We need to keep the shardling bags toss-worthy and give the dragons an assortment!"
She nodded at the head-woman, grabbing several smaller rocks as well as the large one she'd just tossed into the bag, and passed the full sack forward.
Rannell's large eyes grew even larger as he carried the basket full of bandages. Even at his tender age, the tot could tell there was something important and scary going on. Wizzerd perched on his shoulder, her flitter instincts on high, encouraging him. The nursery children all were put to work in the lower caverns, as they filed from stores to the main infirmary, safe from the ravages of Thread.
Every able hand, no matter how small, worked during a Fall.
The whers were all agitated, crying and roaring, desire to fly, to fight, to flame searing their hearts as they pumped their flightless wings. Baryn, muscles bulging, his hot robe and cowl tossed aside for the first time since entering the Weyr, slung the sledge hammer that crushed the large chunks of firestone into manageable bits. A stone-partner tossed the chunks into a pile, and others hauled them away to the sack-fillers down the line.
Bask was just in the shadows, unable to join his handler in the light, crying out both frustration and encouragement. Other 'handlers were performing other tasks, but Baryn's muscles had gotten him volunteered for this one.
It mattered not to him. Thread was falling. When Thread fell, all else on Pern was set aside.
He sent soothing thoughts to his wher, wondering if some of the others were given tasks in which their beasts could participate, and lifted the hammer higher.
[OOC: he hasn't been officially approved by both meddlers yet, but I'm going to toss him in here anyway, last, in case this section needs deleting later]
Silatar was confused. He'd barely arrived, and had been thrown right into work. Thread, Thread was falling -- already! The long lull caused by the cold spring weather was over, and Thread had returned.
The numbweed pots were being filled from the huge barrels in stores, manageable sizes, some large enough to dip a dragon-sized spreading paddle into. Half a mark into the task, Silatar's nose had ceased to smell the stuff, and he was certain the stench had burned all the nerve endings inside his nostrils. It was the only explanation. As he filled each pot and sealed it with a cover, he would carry it to the store-room door, where a Weyrbrat or drudge would grab the handle to haul it up toward the infirmary.
So much numbweed. Would they really need all this for one Fall?
Post by Spiffy .th ! on Jun 14, 2009 6:27:12 GMT -5
Larikev cried out as an errant piece of firestone flew out of the rock beside him into his chin from the hammerer who was working besides him. Briefly he paused in his gathering of the lumps to rub his scar, which was now twinging from the impact, and briefly scowled at the one besides him, before remembering that that was a bad idea. The man had a sharding great bronze wher going crazy beside him, one that Kev was becoming increasingly wary of. Resolutely he set to hefting the chunks of firestone again passing them along the line to the baggers, sweat beading on his forehead and any other exposed area of his body, straining under the work and hot sumer sunshine.
Katalyn only scowled some more as she made her way down the corridor back to the stench f cooking numbweed. She's been given a drudges job! Everyone else ferrying the numbweed to the infirmary was a drudge, interspersed with the occasional weyrbrat for good measure. Had they mistaken her small form for one of them perhaps, even though it was blatantly obvious she was a fully grown woman of 18. By Faranth, she even held Journeyman status!
Reaching the giant pots of steaming numbweed her scowl was obscured by a had as it went up to clasp her nose, frown deepening. Unfortunately though, she had to let go to grasp the large pot of numbweed that was passed to her as she came to the from of the line to the potters. She softened a little as she saw the face of the young lad passing it to her, whom she didn't recognise, but then tat wasn't unusual. Usually she would have only smirked at a boy showing such weakness, but under the circumstances she relented to meet his eyes and smile encouragingly to him.
Kinga was helping with the firestone. She was used to hard work and she didn't mind it at all, except for the smell. The only hard thing was that she had to be down here while she really wanted to up in the sky, protecting Pern. At least she was doing her small part until she Impressed. She finished off another bag and passed it off to someone who would carry it to the dragonriders.
She paused in her work for a moment as the dragons all took off at once, in perfect formation. Kinga's eyes were wide as she watched the dragons fly away. It took a lot to impress her, but she was definitely blown away by the sight.
When they were gone, she went back to her work, making sure there were more sacks for when the dragons ran out. Glancing at Auria, she gave the other girl an encouraging thumbs-up. It looked like she was getting tired.
Last Edit: Jun 14, 2009 14:25:23 GMT -5 by katalina
Emmith turned her head to Emberlyn to get more stone, the two of them doing fairly well so far considering Ember's nerves before taking to the air.
Emmith turned her attention back to the sky and bugled sharply as Ingrainth swerved toward her and tried her best to maneuver out of the way, but she wasn't quick enough and felt her right foreleg collide with the other green's side.
She trumpeted in pain and Emberlyn echoed the sound as she leaned forward trying to see the extent of the injury.
Emmith! Are you ok?! Ember asked in near panic. The green tucked her leg up closer to herself and shook her head, turning her attention back to the sky. I think I will be alright mine,[/color] Emmith tried to reassure her rider.
She couldn't deny the pain was bad, but she wanted to continue to fight against the Thread. Emberlyn glanced over toward Ravyna and Ingrainth, to see how badly the other green was injured.
Ravyna caught Emberlyn's glance, and gave the girl a thumb's up -- Igrainth was scratched, but alright.
The green turned her head toward her younger Wing-sister, concern flashing in her eyes, before darting back to flame a small tangle of thread. The char drifted beneath her as she raised herself out of line and then settled quickly back into formation.
Ravyna couldn't help but note how the other dragon was holding her leg. "Is she alright?" she called over, as Igrainth swerved to follow the line of flight. "She's acting like that leg hurts her! Does she need the healers?"
Once Tirenth had taken as much 'stone as he could handle, small flames already licking outwards from his muzzle, M'kel turned quickly to check over the rest of the Cloudbandits. He nodded to everyone assembled, running a careful eye over harnesses and gear, though more out of habit than doubt in their abilities. Seeing that most were ready, with sacks of firestone attached to their harnesses, M'kel finally turned and sought out the Weyrleader and his Winddancers Wing.
Although it panged him to know that he would not be leading the Weyr into this 'Fall, the bronzerider was also slightly relieved. The last Thread fight had been a disaster, and he did not want the responsibility of another chaotic affair.
Still, M'kel couldn't help but purse his lips at the blatant reminder of Artoneth's brown hide. For Turns, M'kel had fought to earn a place in his Hold, and he'd risen quickly through the ranks upon Impressing a bronze at the Weyr. Thus, he found it rather irksome that a brownrider he had scarcely heard mention of in this time or the past was now Weyrleader of Araelen...
Not now, M'kel chided himself firmly, narrowing his gaze with concentration. It was time to fight Thread, not to bemoan his change in circumstance. Whoever led the Weyr, M'kel still had a duty to his Cloudbandits Wing.
Thus, when P'neil pumped his arm in the air as the signal to go, the bronzerider didn't hesitate, urging Tirenth into the air and between. He spared only a quick glance to ensure that his Wing had arrived in their proper formation before the pair were swept into the thick of Threadfall. Tirenth's flames erupted forth, tearing through clump after clump of Thread, as M'kel leaned close to the bronze's neck, one hand tightly gripping the riding straps and the other ready with a clump of 'stone whenever Tirenth had a chance to turn back for it.
A particularly sharp swerve on the bronze's part, as he dove after an errant clump, snapped M'kel painfully to the side, but he was directing Tirenth after another almost immediately. Pain meant nothing when Thread was in the sky.
Open-mouthed and dumbstruck. That would be the words to describe Retivor's expression, as he gazed at the Wings assembled in the Bowl. It was...impressive. Beyond impressive...amazing. He had known the rough population of the Weyr, but never had he seen so many dragons gathered together. They all looked fierce and proud, not a smattering of fear among them (at least in the candidate's admiring eyes), and the dragonriders were grim and determined down to the Sr. Weyrlings.
Oh, he certainly didn't envy them, not where they were going, but it was awe-inspiring to see.
"Stop gaping, lad, and get helping!" a Lower Caverns worker cried, popping Retivor's reverent bubble.
"Right!" he exclaimed, turning on his heel and racing away from the sight. Thus, the candidate missed the grandest sight of all, when all the Wings took flight together, but there was so much to be done! There seemed to be many hands to fill the firestone sacks, and Retivor had never been one for rough labour, so he turned to the Healing Caverns. Although dragons wouldn't be returning with injuries for at least a short while (he hoped), the lad set about assisting the Healers there as directed, preparing beds and bandages alike.