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Post by E'dwyn and Yzarth on Oct 3, 2010 21:13:50 GMT -5
Yzarth blinked /between/ just as a clump of Thread fell too close for him to catch it. He did this, not to avoid the Thread that wouldn't have hit him, but to avoid the flame of another dragon under him, which incinerated the clump to ashes. He turned back to face his so E'dwyn could feed him more firestone so he could produce more flame. As he chewed the stones and swallowed, he fell into flight with Imahyth, the wing leader's bronze.
Far enough apart that their fires wouldn't endanger theirs' lives, Yzarth unleashed holy hellfire one the threads that fell above him. Running out of flame, he moved to strafe out from under another clump that fell from above but didn't move quite fast enough. E'dwyn's cry of pain just before they blinked /between/ again scared him. "Mine, are you ok?!" he asked, painic in his mind voice.
E'dwyn had never felt pain like he'd felt when the threads touched his skin. For a brief second that seemed to last forever, it felt like he had leaned up against a hot cooking pot only much worse. A mere second after the fiery sensation hit, it was replaced by the chilling sensation of being /between/. Once they had returned to the fight, out of the way of any other falling threads for the moment, he heard his dragon's panicked voice in his head.
When he didn't answer right away, Yzarth asked him again if he was alright. The rider quickly linked to the panicked dragon. "I'm fine buddy. For the moment at least," he said, looking at the vivid red burn on his arm. It was beginning to hurt again now that they weren't /between/. "Get you head back in the game," he told Yzarth. The brown told Imahyth and Morisath about his' injury and that they were going to try to still fight...though he was worried.
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Post by Roux and Radanth on Oct 4, 2010 17:01:26 GMT -5
It was the moment of truth. Had their training really prepared them for the fight that laid ahead? It was a question that all of them were asking themselves. Whether they admitted it or not… Thread had not fallen on Pern in more than four and a half centuries. More than eight generations of dragonriders had come and gone and never seen the enemy they spent their entire lives in training to fight.
Roux fell into the routine her training had given her. Each action practiced for over a decade. It was second nature. As she prepared herself and Radanth to rise into the air and do battle against their greatest enemy, she could feel the tension building within her and her lifemate.
With every preparation complete and double checked, she lowered her goggles, took a deep breath and patted Radanth on her neck, giving her the unspoken signal to take to the air. In an instant they were aloft and taking their place in the wing. Her mind was focused on the task at hand. They would fight and they would burn the silvery fiend from the air.
‘Rouxmine, we will be victorious. We have practiced for so long. I know what to do.’
Roux sent her feelings of respect, love and admiration through their link. ‘Indeed. Now let’s show them how valuable we are to the Weyr!’ Their confidence and determination had never been so impassioned. With a belly full of firestone, they flew in expert formation, systematically singeing the silvery strands into harmless powdery ash.
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Post by K'rill and Morisath on Oct 4, 2010 17:20:18 GMT -5
Morisath hissed through the mental connection, politely informing K'rill that Roux and Radanth had taken flight.
The Threadfighting continued. K'rill and his Brownrider ally swept swiftly through the air, cutting patterns through the Threadfall, occasionally fighting upward through the Thread, and then doubling back down at it, to strafe the Thread a rapid second time.
Their expert flying carried them through much of the Threadfall, swooping high and low, until suddenly, the other Brown crumpled with a sharp cry, and went swiftly /Between/.
Morisath tucked his wings flat against his body, and dropped straight down, snapping open his wings just in time to arrest his fall, and smear smoky fire across a cluster of Threads.
Faster than the speed of thought, K'rill saw something, distantly. Something bad. Very bad.
In a heartbeat, Morisath vanished, and reappeared hardly a dozen feet from Radanth, sweeping across a cluster of wind-scattered Thread, belching fire across the incoming wave.
Morisath, however, had run out of fire. The trailing edge of the cluster survived, only some of it singed, and K'rill ran bodily into it, his arm lifting to shield his face.
It burned. It burned. His mouth opened to scream, and filled with the icy deprivation of between, dissolving all sound and sensation - Until he burst out of /Between/ a short ways above the same Thread cluster - And another dragon scorched the last of the silvery creatures, as they fell.
He swore rapidly as he tossed Morisath more Firestone, and bound his arm up in his jacket. He looked down at the Threadscore, as Morisath jolted /Between/ to assault another cluster of Thread.
He glanced back at the Green and Greenrider, thankfully unscored by the wayward Thread, and wondered why, despite the intense pain, he was smiling.
The Threadscore will make a lovely scar, he thought, to himself. That must be it.
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Post by R'enh and Mnoranth on Oct 4, 2010 22:37:01 GMT -5
R’enh grinned under his goggles and wrappings as the young brown rider rose up next to him and tossed first one then another sack of firestone at him.
He watched the bags while Mnoranth watched the skies. He saw the same action on the other pair the brown watched while the rider tossed.
Then they were gone with a blink. It was still quite a ways off before any of Chalarath’s clutch would face a similar test.
They will be strong and make us proud. “I know they will my dear” he said. The weyrlings were doing well and would soon begin their lessons /between/
He pulled his mind back to the present. He could see they were going to need some adjustment to their training. 450 years of no real experience had brought in some flaws in their technique. He was seeing multiple riders with arm scores. Certainly not life threatening but still that was no coincidence.
From what Mnoranth told him they had already had a couple of bad injuries and lost a blue and a green pair. He couldn’t see everything or be everywhere but he was moving around the sky making adjustments to the formations on the fly.
Refueled Mnoranth belched more flame and seared his way into the fifth hour of the fight.
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Post by B'lor and Imahyth on Oct 6, 2010 16:00:29 GMT -5
Soon conscious thought was replaced by instinct and practiced routine as B'lor balanced his own Thread fight with monitoring what was going on with the others in the Wing. The hours blurred together, and while he would feel exhausted later, the adrenaline was keeping him alert. He barely even knew how much time had passed.
Imahyth swerved to flame another patch of Thread. B'lor ducked to avoid the ash that flew back. He glanced at the Wingriders and saw that E'dwyn was injured. The Fall was at least halfway through, and they could not afford to have riders distracted by painful injuries.
Yzarth, my rider requests that you and your rider return to the Weyr now for treatment,[/color] Imahyth told the Brown, relaying his rider's orders. He didn't see if they were followed, as he had to attend to several strands of Threads snaking towards him. He flamed again, growling as the parasite was burned.
Tag E'dwyn/any
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Post by E'dwyn and Yzarth on Oct 6, 2010 21:34:52 GMT -5
E'dwyn was in pain and Yzarth was well aware of it. He didn't like that his was trying to stay out in the Thread and fight it. He flashed /between/ whenever he could safely do so just to give a bit of relief to ease his' pain but the longer they stayed out in flight and away from the healers the worse it got.
So when the order came from the wingleader's Imanyth for him to get E'dwyn back to the weyr, Yzarth didn't hesitate /betweening/ back to the weyr. They way he saw it, his needed help NOW. As in right this second. Landing on the ledge to the triage area, he knelt low for E'dwyn to climb off his back. Then he signaled back to Imanyth that they were back at that weyr.
End E'dwyn
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Post by K'vys and Oneth on Oct 9, 2010 10:56:22 GMT -5
K'vys did as he was instructed by Weyrlingmaster L'yst. In a few moments, he was saddled up and airborne with his companions by his side. With Jentra, H'trhall, his companions from Telgar they rose from the weyrbowl with bags of Firestone at their sides.
With one word, the three blinked into /between/ and found themselves in the midst of a fight between good and evil. Dragons flamed everywhere and silvery strands of Thread glistened in the sky. K'vys sat atop Oneth for a moment, just gazing in awe and wonder at the sight before him.
We must deliver the firestone, Oneth said to him, bringing him out of his thoughts. Yes, of course, glancing around, K'vys noticed that this companions had already blinked /between/ again to deliver bags of Firestone.
In a matter of moments, K'vys did the same. Arriving just in time to miss the Thread that fell mere inches from him. His legs squeezed Oneth's neck tighter at the thought of what could have happened. Then, he made quick work of delivering his sacks of Firestone.
In a few minutes, the pair were back at the Weyr, loading up once again, joined once more by their two friends. One more trip and they would have completed their task.
This time, when they trip blinked /between/ something went wrong. The moment the trio emerged into the fight, K'vys felt a burning sensation down his right cheek and arm. He called out in pain and confusion. Oneth, bless his hide, was smart enough to take them both /between/ even as they both agonized in pain.
K'vys tried to claw at the Thread that had attacked him, breaking it off into the coldness of /between/. They were too long between! K'vys knew it!
Weyr, Weyr....take us to the Weyr Oneth! K'yvs tried to call out, as his body and mind panicked.
Suddenly, the rush of normal air assaulted the injuries on his face and arm. Oneth managed to land with a whimper in the Weyrbowl.
Before K'vys could even think about what had just happened, he saw H'trhall's blue emerge in the skies above, crying out in distress. Then, he vanished.
Oneth raised his head and cried out a deep, keening soulful cry. H'trhall and his Bernith were gone. K'vys clung to the back of Oneth as the tears fell from his eyes. He'd lost his friend. H'trhall was gone! Gone! K'vys was lost and dazed, confused and hurt.
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Post by L'yst and Woreth on Oct 9, 2010 15:21:15 GMT -5
It happened too fast. He had known that this could happen, but he had not been truly prepared for it. Tales of the loss of weyrlings during First Fall, blooding, were foretold throughout all the histories, but L'yst had never had to endure the event for himself.
The skies erupted above him even as he'd been preparing Woreth to fly. K'vys and Oneth clumsily flew to the ground, barely landing without injury. One look told him the Weyrlings had flown directly into Thread.
"By the shards," he exclaimed and had started to run towards K'vys, when the sky above him seemed to explode with the anguished cry of a dragon. Looking up, L'yst saw H'trhall and Bernith flying erratically, could hear the despair in the dragon's cries.
Woreth, guide them to land. We can help them. L'yst all but shouted in his mind towards his blue.
They are gone, came the solemn reply of Woreth. L'yst staggered in his step. How had this happened?
Woreth's keening cry sounded at the loss of one of their own. One so young. L'yst had to close his eyes against the anguish he felt in his heart. He'd brought H'trhall all the way from Telgar with him only to lose him now.
Swallowing past the bile in his throat, he hurried to K'vys side.
"K'vys. I'm here to help. Let me help you," he called out, all the while Woreth tried to soothe the anguished brown.
It was just at that moment that Jentra and her green burst forth, spiraling erratically towards the surface of the weyrbowl.
"Woreth we need help!" L'yst called out to his dragon. Woreth immediately tried to help, but he would be no match for even a weyrling flying at such uncontrolled speeds. His mind reached out to Sivarith, whom he knew was close by.
Help us, was all that needed said.
Tag K'vys, Sorelle, Any
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Post by R'gant and Xanith on Oct 9, 2010 15:58:15 GMT -5
R'gant and Xanith kept to the skies, burning clumps of thread as fast and quickly as Xanith could fly. R'gant called out orders to members of their wing and members that weren't purely out out of fear for everyone's safety. The scorched the threads as they barreled down from the skies and too many times came close to being burned themselves. Perhaps it was miracle or luck that they hadn't been seriously harmed yet.
Lying low over Xanith, R'gant squinted around, judging distances and timing his next attack. Their training hadn't prepared them for such a feat. Thread did not fall in patterns nor was it predictable. You could focus on one large clump in the distance only to have to change directions mid flight to avoid another.
R'gant heard the screams and anguish of other riders, but he couldn't linger on the losses. That was too dangerous. They blinked between and came out once again in the heart of the downfall. There was still much to be accomplished and he and Xanith would not return to the Weyr until they either fell or were ordered to retreat.
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Post by S'ren and Kasalith on Oct 9, 2010 16:31:19 GMT -5
They wouldn't be in the fight long. S'ren could tell by how hesitate Kasalith's moved and by how tentative she was to get close to the threadfall. She tried not to let it show, but he could tell. He knew how freely she flew. Her wings would move effortlessly through the air, but now they were stretched out and tense, moving only when she had to swivel to by pass another dragon or avert a clump of thread.
"You can do this Kassy," he thought as he held onto her reigns. His own knuckles were white beneath his thick leather gloves. He tossed more firestone into her gaping mouth and they continued on, burning a path through the thread along with one other greenrider.
"I know mine. I'll do my best."
That was all he could ask of her. Straining his eyes to look for their wingleader, he saw B'lor and Imahyth a short distance away. "Stay close." Kasalith grunted and careened forward, flames emitting from her large mouth yet again.
"Watch out. Coming through!" She called out to the other dragons. She tucked her wings close and they barreled downward, burning a string of thread before it could reach the ground. Spreading her wings wide they changed direction and flew back upward rising higher than the other dragons.
Maybe it was instinct, although that didn't make sense because this was their first brush with thread, but S'ren knew something bad was going to happen before it did. Kasalith rushed forward, her eyes focused on her target. She seemed unaware that, just above her, a bundle of thread barreled down. It was out of her line of vision and very close.
"Kasalith, move!!" He yelled. His heart thudded in his chest and his eyes squeezed closed. He wasn't aware of what happened next.
Tag: Anyone who wants to save us!
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Post by J'lor and Tonuth on Oct 9, 2010 20:54:08 GMT -5
Tonuth shot sideways suddenly as they broke formation toward a green. Suddenly he saw the writhing noxious mass of a thread clump as it descended toward a green pair.
They don’t see it he said as a gout of flame erupted over the rider and dragon coming perilously close to flaming them the big brown twisted away but collision was imminent so they flicked /between/ instead.
J’lor’s heart was pounding as he’d expected a collision and tangled bodies falling from the sky.
I’m more agile than I look.
J’lor laughed but that last between had started his arm cramping. “I think we need to get back to the infirmary now my dear.
Tonuth didn’t need to be told twice and the next thing he knew black /between/ had enveloped them once more.
End J’lor
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Post by sorelle on Oct 9, 2010 21:41:24 GMT -5
"Help us"
The call from the blue caused Sivarith to pull up from her descent to the infirmary. "Woreth calls," she thought to Sorelle. The gold turned so rapidly that her tail almost whipped the dragonrider in the face. Sorelle flattened herself against Sivarith's neck as the huge wings pumped the two of them higher and faster, though Sivarith was far from being the picture perfect flyer in her condition. She wobbled a bit as she completed her turn, then righted herself just in time to see the green dragon up above. Luckily, the smaller dragon still had a little control, otherwise she would have plummeted to the ground already.
"I'm coming," Sivarith called to the unlucky dragon.
"Careful," Sorelle cautioned Sivarith, "you can't harm the eggs." It was a delicate decision. The life of a dragonrider and dragon versus the life of the future clutch.
"I know, Mine," Sorelle's lifemate soothed. The dragonrider sent strength through the link as she held on, though it was hard to hide the fear. They had had no time for Sorelle to dismount and this was going to be dicey. Ichor flowed from the green dragon and dripped onto Sivarith's golden hide as they maneuvered below.
"Hang on," Sorelle called out to Jentra. The two dragons collided and Sorelle cried out as Jentra's lifemate's head barely missed her. Looking back, she could see the pain in the swirling eyes. "Calm her," she ordered Sivarith.
The larger dragon warbled at the green as a mother would to her hatchlings. Sorelle's eyes met Jentra's. The woman's face was ghost white and she was shuddering with pain. Sivarith lent support to the green and they slowly descended to the bowl. Flattening herself to the ground, she let the green slide gently to the ground. A man climbed up next to Jentra and pried her hands from the death grip she had been holding, then he passed her down to a pair of strong arms. Jentra grunted with pain and began crying as they carried her away.
Sivarith soothed the riderless green. Soon, a dragon healer would see to her as well. "You did well," Sorelle said as she rubbed the underside of Sivarith's jaw after slipping to the ground. The sand around her feet became soaked with ichor and she looked away, trying to still the memories of all the others she had seen die over the years.
End Sorelle
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Post by R'enh and Mnoranth on Oct 12, 2010 12:32:42 GMT -5
Just when he was beginning to feel the weariness in his very bones he looked up to see… nothing.
No more Thread… the fall was over.
He dipped lower toward the queens wing. Finally catching site of the gouts of flame coming from Maram's agenothree tank. Three greens were with her in formation and as he watched, one rose up to flame a clump coming in behind Chalarath at an angle.
He looked up to see clear sky in front and behind him.
"Fall is over, send out the sweep riders."
Mnoranth had been relaying commands all day. He was beginning to feel the stress of the day but he had finally met and defeated his enemy: Thread.
The big bronze let out a roar which was immediately answered from the throats of his entire wing and B'lor's.
R'enh's heart swelled to hear the massive thunder of their victory over the ancient enemy of Pern.
He wanted to feel the glory before he had to count the cost. He recalled the wing and set their destination. Home - Dragon Weyr.
Tag any/End R'enh
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