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Post by Darvin on Jul 18, 2010 13:59:23 GMT -5
D'vin had awoken early, at the insistence of a young Weyrling, and came quickly to the Infirmary.
Outside the infirmary, Ralianth crouched defensively, pawing occasionally at her head, with a baffled and worried expression, sorrow etched clearly into her features. Even her skin had dulled to a lime yellow from a burnished gold.
D'vin paused by her, and knelt down near the head, the dragon unresisting, as he placed the flat of his calloused palm against her cheek. Ralianth gave a low keening in her throat, all the more painful for the single voice of the inexpressible grief.
After a moment, he stood, and continued into the Infirmary, where three young Healers were perched over the unconscious Tael, slowly spoon-feeding her very thin gruel, the meal ground finely, to leave few chunks for her to potentially choke on. Though unconscious, her body was responsive - If only barely, to feeding.
He knelt down next to her, and thanked the Weyrling, who stood by, quietly.
He took her hand between his own, and gave it a firm squeeze, hoping for some sort of response.
"She," one of the younger healers quietly intoned, "She won't last much longer, if she doesn't awake. She's getting weaker."
D'vin bit his lip slightly, eyes fixed on her face. "Has she... Anything... To show she's getting better? Anything at all?"
Her lips a thin, tight frown, the healer shook her head slowly.
He bowed his head, lifting her hand, and touched it to his forehead slightly, as if willing her to wake up, and he closed his eyes, thinking of all the chaos that had passed since he had carried her up onto her dragon, and lunged into the icy cold of Between.
Outside, Ralianth keened once more, low, and long, twisting like a hot knife in his chest.
Teardrops ran rivulets down the back of her hand.
Tag: Any
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Post by L'can and Tanemoth on Jul 20, 2010 15:15:12 GMT -5
Lorcan strode carefully across the weyrbowl holding a tray of cups filled the klah. He had been dispatched to deliver klah to the Healers, some of whom had worked through the night to help the many exhausted and injured people, casualties of either the earthquakes or the journey to the South. The morning's death had left him shaken, and he was glad to have something to keep him busy and his mind occupied.
The sight of the sickly Gold outside the infirmary was jarring, and he averted his eyes as he hurried inside. He gave the klah out to the Healers. Then he only had one cup left. One of the Healers directed him to a man who had been standing vigil at the Goldrider's bedside since early morning.
"D'vin..." he recognized the man who Maram and R'enh had rescued on their journey. Then, Lorcan saw that the man was crying. He blushed, embarrassed at the intrusion, but he couldn't back away now. "Klah, sir?" He held out the cup.
Tag D'vin/any
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Post by Darvin on Jul 20, 2010 22:42:00 GMT -5
D'vin looked up from the unconscious Weyrwoman, his face bland and tired, bruised bags under his eyes from restless sleep.
He accepted the spicy Klah gratefully, and sipped at it, sighing happily. "That's good klah," he responded. "Thank you. I'm D'vin, of, ah, Ista Weyr, formerly. What's your name, kid?" He gestured to an empty chair next to the cot, and finally tore his gaze fully away from Tael.
"And where're you from, if I might?"
He sipped at the Klah, and sat back, exhaling softly, seeming quite livened by the spicy, rich brew.
Tag: Any
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Post by L'can and Tanemoth on Jul 21, 2010 15:30:51 GMT -5
Lorcan glanced at the unconscious woman on the cot. She looked beyond ill, just a husk of a person. He looked away quickly when D'vin spoke, not wanting to seem like he was gawking. D'vin introduced himself with a shortened name, and he was from a Weyr, but he didn't mention a dragon. That was a little strange, but Lorcan didn't want to be nosy.
Hoping that his face didn't reveal these thoughts, Lorcan sat down in the offered chair. Maybe D'vin wanted company, a distraction from the almost lifeless woman he cared for. "My name is Lorcan. I came from Fort with my father, B'lor," he said, smiling when he saw some kind of recovery in D'vin's expression. "So you're from Ista...that must make it a little easier to get used to this place. The environment is really different from Fort." Actually, if it wasn't for the circumstances, this would feel like a beach vacation, but Lorcan missed the mountainous climate of his old home.
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Post by Darvin on Jul 21, 2010 22:34:48 GMT -5
He grunted, "Weather's about same. Hot and wet. A bit cooler this far north, though..." He sipped further at his Klah.
Suddenly, a Weyrling burst in, and called to him, "D'vin, sir! There's a meeting," he panted out, out of breath, "The Weyrleader wants you and the other Bronzeriders there."
D'vin stared at the Weyrling, puzzled, and stood slowly, setting his Klah aside.
"I'm not a rider anymore, kid." His face was pale, but colored high in his cheeks, his eyes bright and intense.
The Weyrling stammered briefly, refusing to meet his eyes, "He asked for you by name, sir... He told me specifically to come and find you."
D'vin frowned, his attention returning to the pitcher of hot Klah. He refilled his mug, and tipped it to Lorcan. "Sorry, kid. Be careful around here. Sorry not to give you a more proper welcome."
He turned to one of the women, who approached, with a curious expression on her face, "Keep an eye on her. I'll be meeting with the Weyrleader, apparently."
He frowned deeper, after a moment. "I suppose I'll need a ride up."
He glanced back at the Weyrling, "C'mon, kid. It's a bit of a walk, but not much of a flight."
End D'vin
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Post by L'can and Tanemoth on Jul 22, 2010 18:52:59 GMT -5
Before Lorcan could say anything else, one of the weyrlings burst in, asking for D'vin. Lorcan's eyes widened when D'vin said that he wasn't a rider anymore. So this was a dragonless man standing before him, but Lorcan would not have guessed it. Except for the peaked expression on his face when his dragon was mentioned, D'vin seemed, well...normal. "It's okay," he said as D'vin excused himself to go to the meeting. His father would be there too, so Lorcan would find out what details B'lor could share later.
He watched D'vin hurry off, frowning. What made some people survive when their dragon died, while others, like his mother, couldn't bear to cling to life? If it was possible for a dragonless person to be as sane as D'vin, why wasn't Carilla here now? It made his mother seem like a coward. Lorcan clenched his fists, standing and hurrying away from the goldrider's bedside and out the door.
End Lorcan
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Post by Lilia on Jul 24, 2010 23:10:24 GMT -5
Lilia had a good night probably more so that she could have imagined from the weyrling and his dragon.
She made her way toward the infirmary to see a gold in terrible condition who seemed to be wasting away and listless. Nevertheless she bowed to the dragon before making her way into the infirmary.
There were people bustling about though she didn't see any of the healers she had the night before. Oneth hadn't moved from his couch nearby the young rider. The dragon's head raised and she nodded to him and when she looked in on K'vys, she had to correct herself again. He seemed to be sleeping rather than unconscious.
She sat on the edge of his bed and smoothed some sweat dampened tendrils from his face as she would her own child. "Keevys?" she asked "How are you feeling today?"
Tag Any
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Post by Leo on Jul 26, 2010 7:04:35 GMT -5
"Where do you suppose he's from?" Said a young voice that sounded slightly struggled as he shifted his form to keep an arm around him up high. "No idea, maybe Igen... just pipe down will you?" Answered a stronger voice.
The two voices belonged to a man and a teenager, the two were carrying another man, a young adult, his clothes were torn, ragged and dirty, a small number of scratches and bruises were visible but the damage to his hand was what was most visible. The entire hand looked as if it had been coated in a spray of blood and then dried, a deep wound within his palm.
"What do you think is wrong with him? He hasn't woken up yet..." Said the young voice again, an irritated sigh soon followed as the older man answered. "I'm no healer but I would say he was in a coma."
"How long do comas la-"
"I don't know, kid!"
Their conversation stopped there but the journey continued until they finally managed to drag the unconscious man into the infirmary and plopped his form onto the nearest bed. The older man looked around, noting that there was at least someone else around, he only hoped that she was a healer.
He made his way over to her, "Are you a healer?" He asked shortly as he looked over his shoulder at the slump man whose face was being prodded by the boy.
The boy was about to look away when he noticed a leather string around the man's neck, his fingers followed the route, under his shirt where he felt the metal of whatever was attached to the necklace.
Pulling it out, the young teenager saw only a small plate of metal with nothing on it, he turned it over in his hand and saw letters, a name? "L-" He began to read out but was cut off by the older man's voice.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing!" the kid quickly stashed the necklace back under the man's shirt and turned around, "I'll uh wait outside..." And he did just that. The older man turned back to the woman, awaiting a reply.
Tag: Lilia/Any
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Post by evelie on Jul 26, 2010 14:03:35 GMT -5
Evelie had spent much of the morning wondering what was going to happen to her. She was not pessimistic at heart or anything; in fact, Evelie happened to be one of the most optimistic people anyone would come to know. However, after losing one’s sight, one begins to question things that one would not normally question; one begins to lose one’s way. That was how Evelie felt now, and would feel for some time if someone didn’t start talking to her and snapping her out of the shock of losing her eyesight. But she was fine, she told herself, fine for now, and if she was fine for now, she’d be fine for later, too.
The woman supposed she was wearing a blue dress today. She couldn’t tell its color by its texture, but she knew that it either had to be the pale blue dress or the light brown dress embroidered with many different floral designs. Both were pretty, she thought, but if only she could tell which one she was wearing. She had blindly (of course) pulled her hair up into the same pinup she always put it, and felt the top of her head for any bumps of hair that hadn’t been settled. Nothing felt amiss, except for one strand of hair that fell, haphazardly, onto her face. Some would say she looked prettier that way, with her hair in her face; others would, of course, confirm her fears of saying it should have been in the bun. But she didn’t feel like putting it up, and so left it.
Evelie had not, as of yet, become adept at walking around without having to touch a wall. Normally she walked until there was no more wall, tried a couple steps forward to find the other side of the wall, and then doubled back to the safety of the previous one if nothing met her searching fingers. She was sure she had gotten a couple strange looks—especially when she fell and tore her dress or scraped her hands—and a few people actually tried to help her, but normally, she was on her own. Because she did not like her fingers leaving a wall for an extended amount of time, she didn’t really find herself in new places that often. One of the places she hadn’t experienced was the infirmary. She’d heard of it, and wanted to comfort the people in there, the ones who needed it and the ones who didn’t.
But that would require having to walk farther than she had before with her hands away from the wall. The wall was like Evelie’s lifeline, something she knew was real, unlike the ground she walked on, because that betrayed her all too much. Without the walls, oh-so-rocky and oh-so-real, Evelie was lost in a spinning world. She had relied too much on her sight before, as all humans would, and now only her touch remained. Her ears were filled constantly with noises coming from left to right and front to back, and her nose didn’t help much with direction. Her hands guided her. Always guiding.
Evelie was fortunate enough to have a nice man by the name of Oskarion (he was a Trader, he said, and he’d like to talk to her some more another time) help her to the entrance to the Infirmary. It was the least he could do, seeing as she was blind and everything, he said. Evelie realized that it would quickly become old how people wanted to help her just because she was blind, but then realized she couldn’t have gotten to the Infirmary without his steady hand. But when he was gone, she immediately latched onto the wall.
Sounds assailed her. There was a dragon keening in the background, grunting and, and here Evelie was probably imagining things… but did it sound like the dragon was trying to keep a tight hold onto life when it was slipping away? The blond-haired woman felt the constant friend of a wall and felt better, though not for the Gold, but for herself. She stood there for a few moments, her forehead pressed against the rock, and caught tidbits of conversation. “What are you doing?” “Nothing! I’ll uh wait outside…” And Evelie felt a rush of air as the boy moved past her. She held her breath, but decided against keeping to the wall. Her curiosity was too strong.
The blind woman walked forward until she could clearly hear a man talking to himself, or to another person, wondering where a Healer was. Evelie pushed off the wall and immediately felt a cot, occupied, and heard the man beside it. This person on the cot was hurt, or something, for the man to be demanding a Healer like that. She dropped to her knees and groped until she found the man’s hand. She took it in her own and felt the… almost coldness to it, but also the odd warmth. She could hear his breathing, which was slow but regular, like he was in some sort of sleep. A light smile touched her lips, and here she had no idea why it did, but it did, and she unconsciously blinked her eyes. “He will be fine.” She said, if only to let the conscious man she was here; really, she had to speak to let herself know she was still alive, still in the Infirmary. “I’m not a Healer, but… I just know.” and she couldn’t explain it.
Tag Any~
(( If anything is wrong in this post that you want me to change (whether grabbing his hand/etc), let me know, 'cause I will change it! ))
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Post by Leo on Jul 26, 2010 15:12:38 GMT -5
“He will be fine.”
The grown man turned around to see that someone was standing by the bed, when did she get here? But at least she was a healer... “I’m not a Healer, but… I just know.” Oh! That's great, she just knows. The man walked over to the cot and the crouched woman.
"I'd rather leave knowing that he was in good hands." The man said gruffly though he could have choked on his own words, the woman had gorgeous hands, he could tell they were smooth just by looking at them.
"I rescued him from a collapsed cave." Said the man, puffing out his chest though the instant he said that, the little boy had popped up from across the man and woman.
"No you didn't, he was found by some other guy and told us to help him back here." Said the boy in a matter of fact way, his words causing the older man to stare daggers at the boy.
Tag: Any
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Post by K'vys and Oneth on Jul 26, 2010 19:33:20 GMT -5
K'vys had slept better this night than the one before, partly due to a great dose of fellis-laced juice that had eased much of his hurt.
His dreams had still been full of many garbled and strange images, which caused him to toss his head from side to side at times. Thankfully, his body somehow managed to keep his legs from rubbing, which would have caused him to feel the pain.
In his dream-like state, he thought he heard his mother calling to him...."Keevys?"
He turned his head slightly in the direction.
"How are you feeling today?"
His eyes flickered open, blinking rapidly a few times as he registered that he wasn't dreaming and someone was in fact speaking to him. He looked up and saw...a face that seemed familiar somehow...He knew her...but it wasn't his mother. It wasn't the healer. But he knew he knew her.
K'vys swallowed and felt his dry throat like a piece of parchment. Glancing to the side, he pointed to a cup on a small table near by. He pointed to it, "Water," he said through his parched lips. "Please."
Tag Lilia/Any
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Post by Lilia on Jul 29, 2010 8:19:40 GMT -5
He seemed to stir prior to actually waking and his head turned in her direction when she spoke.
When his eyes opened he seemed lost in his own world. She repeated his name again.
“K’vys?”
He pointed to a small table nearby "Water, Please."
“Sure!” she said and rose slightly to bring the cup in reach, then picked it up she brought it toward his waiting hand.
“There ya go.” She smiled slightly. He probably didn’t realize how good it was to see someone you knew even if only slightly these days.
She knew she probably wouldn’t be seeing R’enh much now that he was Weyrleader. Renhick and she had attended the hatching and seen him with his new Weyrwoman. Familiar with the ways of Riders now she didn’t feel as hurt as much as happy for him to have finally attained the position he’d always wanted. She had a feeling he wouldn’t be coming around as much as in the past.
She looked over at the brown dragon sleeping nearby. “Congratulations on impressing brown!” she said proud of her former student.
Tag K’vys/Any
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Post by sorelle on Jul 29, 2010 12:13:46 GMT -5
Sorelle and J'lor appeared over the Weyr bowl and the dragons below bugled a greeting to the Queen. Sivarith arched her neck in appreciation and settled down to the ground. Sorelle, completely unprepared for the journey between was shivering violently, having left her riding skins behind due to Sivarith's trickery. There would be time to deal with the dragon later, but Sorelle made it known to the Gold that she was not happy about her behavior. The ex-weyrleader's teeth were chattering so badly that she clenched her jaw tight.
Their appearance created quite a stir and soon Sorelle was wrapped in a blanket, picked up, and carried to the infirmary. She kept looking back to make sure someone was taking care of J'lor. Several riders had managed to finally get him down from Tonuth. It took two of them to carry the burly rider, one holding him under his arms and the other holding his legs. His body swayed to and fro as they walked, almost as if he were the evening's feast of beast. A hot beverage was thrust into Sorelle's shaking hands and more blankets were wrapped around her. "Someone find her some socks." An apprentice ran off on that mission.
All throughout, Sorelle would not remove her eyes from the rugged rider's form. Was he dead? He did not move. She saw an elder man working on him and smelled the pungent aroma of a healing herb.
Tag Any
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Post by evelie on Jul 29, 2010 13:16:41 GMT -5
“Yes, I understand.” Evelie said with a calm, understanding voice. She didn’t know why she was here, holding this guy’s hand. She had no idea, because she hadn’t really planned on doing anything of the sort. She didn’t even know why she was so calm, because she knew (knew!) she should have been shy. But maybe an unconscious man needed more than just a Healer. Wait… what was she thinking…? All he needed was a Healer.
Her hands had not exactly been searching for anything on his, but they had discovered something very interesting. The hand Evelie held bore a scar on it, and her fingers traced the nearly crescent-shaped scar up and down for a small while. It was not necessarily deep, but it was noticeable, and Evelie wondered if she would have been able to see it if she could see. She quietly mused about the scar, all the way until the man started speaking again.
The man told her about how he rescued the comatose one from a cave. Evelie could hear the pride in his voice, but had to giggle softly when the boy she’d passed coming in said his story was not true. “Doesn’t matter any,” Evelie answered, looking upward in what she believed to be the vicinity of the man’s face, “You helped him here.”
There was a large ruckus then, and Evelie pulled her sightless eyes back to her hands as she caught muttering: “someone find her some socks.” Who was there? It certainly couldn’t have been a normal rider, what with all the murmurings and everything. And it also couldn’t have been anyone like a candidate, but Evelie could not see and had learned quickly not to ask. She just clasped on tighter (though not much, and she was still gentle about it) to the unconscious man’s hand, as if he were her lifeline. In a way, he was. She was nowhere near the wall now, and was quite alone in the aspect that she was blind. She felt nervous flutterings start in her stomach and tried desperately to quell them… to no avail.
But her voice was calm enough so that when she spoke to the man, she didn’t stutter or stop unnecessarily. “Who is it who just came in?”
Tag Leo
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Post by J'lor and Tonuth on Jul 29, 2010 13:31:39 GMT -5
Oer, Master Healer came running when the apprentice came to tell him the Goldrider had brought an injured Brownrider back with her from wherever she’d gone.
He’d heard a rumor that she’d left and ordered none of the other dragons to follow. But the trumpeting from multiple dragon throats announced the arrival of the queen above the weyr.
An anxious brown poked his head into the infirmary and Oer looked up and called "He's in good hands, we'll take care of him."
He could see the queenrider shivering and ordered blankets and an herbal infusion. It was the unconscious brownrider that concerned him most. A journeyman checked out the rest of the man while he examined the head wound. He cleansed his hands and then the wound gently with redwart. It didn’t appear that the bone under the wound had been broken, but he felt carefully with his sensitive fingers. The rider didn’t twitch in reaction so once he was certain there were no broken bones under the skin he applied oil to his hands and then numbweed to the wound.
He looked at Lady Sorelle who was chilled from between and just shook his head. Any Master or Journeyman of the craft would recognize the Weyrwoman of Benden even in her current bedraggled state. “You really must take better care of yourself.” He said in a fatherly tone though they were near in age. “Klah” he said to a passing aide and soon the cup of the spiced beverage was in his hands.
He handed the new hot cup to her extracting the tea. The warm beverage had cooled and she needed new heat. There wasn’t much he could do for the rider other than wait. If his brain swelled
He looked into her eyes and asked the question on the tip of his tongue.
“Who is he?”
Tag Sorelle/Any
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