[Log] No Storm
Who: Amilin, Charis, I'daur, Josilina, Melata, Satiet, Shalyn, Suraiya, Talien, Vorlin
When: Day 31, Month 3, Turn 11
Where: Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
What: While I'daur and Talien have lunch, Thread begins to fall on High Reaches Hold. I'daur dumps Talien in the barracks and then leaves to fight it himself.
Western Bowl, High Reaches Weyr
Standing on the western side of the bowl, the high crownlike spires of the Seven Spindles on the north wall tower magestically above the roughly ovoid bowl floor. Near you, a large boulder stands, placed almost exactly in the center of the bowl. This side of the bowl is busy with the constant flow of residents and visitors around the entrance to the living cavern to the southwest and the lower caverns to the west. To the north, the large opening on the upper wall leading into the hatching grounds catches your eye. Directly below it, the ground entrance to the same area seems almost tiny. Northwest, the weyrs belonging to the junior queens of High Reaches are accessible from a short set of stairs and a path of carefully laid black marble leads from them to the entrance to the living cavern. To the south, a few ground weyrs remain unoccupied, in case any visiting or injured dragons need them.
The afternoon is clear and the sun shines brightly. The strong winds howl through the bowl and the spring air is freezing against you.
Obvious exits:
LIving Cavern Lower Caverns Hatching Grounds Ground Level Guest Weyrs Eastern Bowl Floor
In the bowl, to the east, A shimmering green dragon lands in the Reaches' Bowl to deposit a female Telgari rider and Lord Bitra. The later is expressionless as he looks around the bowl, his eyes scanning up the ledges and then over as if picking out one in particular. The rider murmurs in the Holder's ear and he flicks his fingers dismissively and he answers in wry amusement, "I am not sure how long this will take, but I am hardly laying siege to a hold." Eyebrows lower and Vorlin contemplates the living caverns.
In the bowl, to the east, Vorlin takes a few paces away from the rider and dragon that transported him and turns his sinisterly eyebrowed visage towards Suraiya, "Bitra's duties to High Reaches Weyr and her queens."
The sky to the North east seems to be growing a little darker than the rest of the afternoon sky, like a storm is brewing in that direction.
In the bowl, to the east, Ozriadasoth trills a happy little greeting towards the unfamiliar green. Ozri was trailing after her lifemate, both arriving from the west as they chatter to each other. Well, one chatter, the other rumbling aloud to her human half. However, it does not take long for the young woman to realize the green came with passengers (beside a rider, of course). She stops, stares, and let's out a very intelligent, "Um..." for a moment. Oh yah! "G'day," she calls out, saluting at the sight of his knot. "Sir," she adds for good measure. "Anything I can do for you?"
Spring is finally dawning at High Reaches, and it's this that inspires I'daur to have his lunch outside as he takes a break from working in the barracks with his current assistant Talien. He is seated on the ground by Zunaeth, enjoying the day and picking through his food, saying nothing for the moment. He looks bored; Zunaeth looks curious, watching the sky.
In the bowl, to the east, Vorlin stares intently at Suraiya for a moment and then speaks in a placid voice, "Is the Headwoman available. I have a bit of business to transact with her."
Firelizards seem to be getting jumpy and skittish, something has them upset.
Talien looks relieved to be out of the barracks, what's more, she looks relieved to be eating and does so with gusto. Suggesting, perhaps, that she hasn't eaten in a while. "-took you long enough," she finally says, dropping her sandwich in her lap to suck dressing from the tip of her finger, "I didn't think you'd ever stop and let me eat."
In the bowl, to the east, Suraiya bobs her head quickly, as if answering is a matter of life or death. So she's nervous... "Oh, I'm sure she is. Sirana should be in the lower caverns." Her answer is a little cut off by the strange activity suddenly arround her. Like the firelizards. Her blue eyes narrow, her usually jovial face turning into a concentrated frown. "Is something wrong?" She asks, as if the Lord Holder comes with some dreadful news. Ozriadasoth is getting a bit agitated as well, just a bit, her head glancing around before focusing on the sky.
The darkness to the north east is getting more intense... and it's clear now that there aren't any clouds associated with this storm. This is worse, the firelizards are going crazy and the sense of trouble in the air is spreading to the dragons.
"When I get on a roll," answers I'daur with a shrug, "I don't like to quit." He eyes her a moment, then shrugs. "Didn't hurt you any. I don't think--" he breaks off as Zunaeth fidgets, the bronze becoming more agitated and rising. It draws I'daur's attention, and he sets his plate down to look up, in the direction the bronze is staring intently. For a moment, I'daur is silent, observing the darkness approaching; whatever he had in mind to say to Talien is forgotten.
In the bowl, to the east, Charis slides down off her blue, looking up at the sky with furrowed brows, "Dat storm doesn't look like any dat I've ever seen." She offers greetings to those around her, then speaks formally, "Reaches duties to ya Lord 'older." she directs at Vorlin.
Ever oblivious, even to the firelizards, Talien makes faces at her sandwich as I'daur explains his situation. "-my sandwich is all soggy, you know. It's obvious you don't think." With a disappointed sigh, she pushes the remnants of her sandwich onto the wrappings between her feet. Sucking the last of the dressing from her finger while looking toward the weyrlingmaster, she squints, "What?" Glancing upward, she shrugs the dark sky off with an unconcerned shrug, "Just a storm. Get them all the time back home."
In the bowl, to the east, Vorlin seems oblivious of the building turmoil in the sky as he takes a step closer to Suraiya, his eyebrows lowering menacingly, "Not at the moment, not so long as I speak to the Headwoman."
In the bowl, to the east, Melata gets off her dragon at the edge of a knot of other dragons and people. So many edgy people to today, you'd think a dozen greens and golds were to Fly.
In the bowl, to the east, Verenth fidgets, opening his wings and closing them again. He is not calmed by Melata's pat to his shoulder as she makes her way into the knot of people.
In the bowl, to the east, "Yes sir!" Suraiya answers with a firm nod, nervous not only in the Lord Holder's presence but in her agitated lifemate. She spreads an arm in the direction of the lower caverns to the west, though her eyes focus on Charis' arrival and her comment. That's when she decides to look up at what is causing Ozzy to be nervous. Oh, that can explain things. And then there's a once in a lifetime occurance. Suri curses, "Shards," she hisses out, eyes widening. "That doesn't look like it'll be good."
"--You're too young to remember," says I'daur shortly, as he pushes away his plate and starts to stand. It's not an easy task for him, nor a quick one, but he manages, limping up to his feet and then leaning against Zunaeth's side for a moment. The bronze has gone from fidgety to very still, almost unnaturally so, as he watches. "That's not a storm. You ought to get inside."
In the bowl, to the east, Vorlin glances to the others and returns Charis' greeting, "Bitra's duties." before inclining his head towards Suraiya. He clasps his hands at the small of his back and seems prepared to wait even though he catches the word, "Storm?"
"Just because I'm not old like you doesn't mean I don't know things," Talien rebukes, glaring up at the Weyrlingmaster as he sloooowly makes his way to his feet, "I've seen enough storms to know that /that's/ a storm. Gonna be a bad one too, I think," Looking back up at that dark sky with a small frown, she adds, "Everyone's getting so worked up." Her lips curl, almost into an amused expression, but I'daur's behavior and even Zunaeth's are harder to ignore. "What's wrong? Why's he acting - why are /they all/ acting so weird?"
In the bowl, to the east, Qeteth lifts his head to look at the sky, letting out a rumble deep in his chest, uneasy with the coming storm.
Josilina emerges from the lower caverns looking distracted, vaguely harrassed and, above all, worried. "Lhiannonth says something's wrong," she announces to no one in particular, glancing at her ledge where the gold can be seen, restlessly moving. Spotting the Weyrlingmaster she nods to him, already on her way to the other end of the bowl where the crowd seems to be gathering, casting anxious looks upwards as she goes.
In the bowl, to the east, From the steps of the Weyrleaders' ledges, Satiet slips down, followed by a more awkwardly moving and /very/ egg heavy queen who lands with a graceless thunk by her rider's side. A glance casts up to the sky, watching a bronze and green disappear into between and then tilts down to take in the occupants of the bowl, a thought culminating worry about her knit brows. "Storm," she confirms curtly on the heels of Vorlin's query, then a more polite, "High Reaches duties, sir, to Bitra."
In the bowl, to the east, Melata looks over at her dragon, "And what is wrong with you?" She frowns, "I don't think so, you blue lump."
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Vildaeth's tones are alarming, swirling with concern. << It is back. We need more! >> More everything: firestone, dragons, people.
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Dasmareth's been woken by the agitation in the air, in the voices and the question hanging in wait of an answer. She prompts << Vildaeth? >>
Dragon> Oenoneth bespoke all dragons with << Thread! Thread falls at High Reaches! >>
In the bowl, to the east, Melata sees the two goldriders, and heads over in that direction. "Joslina, Satiet...Verenth's yammering to me that he doesn't like the storm..."
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Kaylith's tone is a mix of carefully controlled panic as she blinks between << Thread falls. >>
In the bowl, to the east, Melata stops mid-sentence, eyes widening, as she looks up, then over to her dragon, and up again. "Thread?"
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Teonath's mental bugle coincides with her more audible one: << Thread falls. >> In that instant a singular command is sent to watchriders, recalling sweeps and wings to High Reaches, and then in the next second ordering various personnel and wings to prepare to join Snowstrike's smaller forces. Others are asked to sweep the other Holds, just in case, and still others are required to stay at the Weyr, also just in case.
In the bowl, to the east, Satiet stops mid-head incline to Vorlin and turns a pale, rather terrified look towards Josilina's arrival. "Firestone," is her one word.
"Not a storm," I'daur repeats, with a small shake of his head. "Thread. That's Thread. Get inside now." Clipped, the order he gives to Talien; he's already moving, purposeful, and straighter than usual as he hurries to get ready--in search of firestone, to be sure. Zunaeth follows, prowling after him with an eye still on the storm.
In the bowl, to the east, Suraiya turns in time to see the arrival of the two gold riders, relief obvious on her face at their appearance. Seeing that the Lord Holder is with better hands, she returns to her green's side, anxious. "/Thread/?!" She squeaks out, staring up at the arriving wings. And like a good dragonrider, she freezes.
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Iseuth's shriek has an almost triumphant tone, << No, don't believe the little green... >>
On Oenoneth, Shalyn practally falls off the back of her dragon collapsing to her knees, in a shaky voice that gradually rises form a bare whisper to an almost panicked scream, "..stone... firestone... FIRESTONE NOW!!!!!"
In the bowl, to the east, Josilina slows as she approaches, taking in the group: she nods to Satiet, and Melata, and there's a surprised start when she spots Vorlin, though she offers him a polite, "Bitra's duties." But pleasantries stall out fairly quickly as information filters through the network of dragon informants, and the weyrwoman turns pale. "Firestone," she agrees with Satiet. "And flamethrowers. And dragon healers. And the wings need to get out, now," she starts to turn toward Melata then stops herself, visibly, and turns more towards Satiet, clearly deferring to the new Senior.
In the bowl, to the east, Melata blinks to herself, "Thread?" She looks around, then picks up her voice into a bellow that hasn't been forgotten, "Avalanche! Firestone! NOW! To the caverns! Get the firestone and get it into your dragon! Fighting straps! Line up against the east wall!"
In the bowl, to the east, Charis furrows her brows at her blue, taking a few steps closer to Satiet and her Wingleader, "Qeteth says 'e doesn't feel right about this. Its not a normal storm." The unease of the rider is evident, pushing her gloves onto her hands, eyes moving back and forth from the group to the oncoming storm
In the bowl, to the east, Eyes under narrowed brows glare at the sky a moment before Lord Vorlin turns his attentions back to the riders. "Bitra's duties, Weyrwoman Satiet, weyrwoman Josilina. It would seem that my visit is at a rather importune moment." That said, the Holder shuts his mouth and seems to settle into a calm and watchful state.
Dragon> Teonath bespoke all dragons with << Thread falls again. >> At least she's polite despite her panic. << We request back up of all Weyrs if it can be managed at... >> an image is flickered of the skies above High Reaches Hold's, << High Reaches Hold. >>
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Kaylith's voice roars in urgency << We need firestone. NOW! >>
Talien actually has the audacity to scoff /and/ roll her eyes at I'daur, "Thread. Yeah and I'm a wherry." Rubbing a hand under her nose, she dismisses her earlier worry; the clipped tone doesn't get to her, but his movements do. A little slack jawed, Talien looks after I'daur and Zunaeth, then scrambles to her feet, "Where?" Her agitated little squeak is barely intelligible. No matter that she's already backing for the entrance into the barracks, her shoulders shaking with a minute tremble.
In the bowl, to the east, Melata calls to Charis, whom she sees milling around, "Charis! Over here! Til'th, go get firestone, move it. And take Jenn with you."
In the bowl, to the east, On Oenoneth, Shalyn is half running half falling while she runs from where she and Oenoneth landed, "Of course it's no normal storm! Thread is falling, get your blue stoked up."
Dasmareth's decant is rapid, her eyes whirling in alarm as her rider struggles into a jacket, all but dropping hastily grabbed goggles and helm as the pair respond, "How the shards is this possible and where's that 'Stone!?"
In the bowl, to the east, Melata calls to Amilin, "Amilin: go get firestone for the Wing! Thread at High Reaches Hold, however impossible that is. I'll get the Wing lined up here, make sure fighting straps are on...get a little order happening to Avaanche."
In the bowl, to the east, Firestone carriers run in panic, chaos reigning supreme as they haul out the stone from wherever it was stored and start bringing them to various riders who prepare. "Josilina," for now Vorlin and is suave greetings are dismissed with another of those rather choked sounds to the older weyrwoman, then finding something in the former senior, Satiet turns to spy out Melata and Ice's wingleader, "Wingleaders, prepare your wings to rise on your commands once supplied to join Vildaeth and Kaylith."
In the bowl, to the east, Shalyn runs and grabs a sack of firestone, checking to make sure it's high grade she starts to feed it to Oenoneth. Inbetween bites she goes to grab two more sacks and two more yet again. Fastening them to the green riding straps she finishes stoking up her little green.
"High Reaches Hold," I'daur answers Talien briefly. He's off to the firestone to start packing a share hurried. "Stay. Here. Satiet's sending the wings, and we're going after them." The panic around him doesn't seem to affect him; he knows exactly what he's doing, even after this long away from it.
In the bowl, to the east, "Lord Vorlin," Josilina glances at the Bitran, lips thinning at his massive understatement, "you may want to retire to inside the Weyr. I'm not sure we can guarantee how safe it will be out of doors, and I very much doubt we'll be able to return you to Bitra right now." She keeps an eye on Satiet and something - even in all this tension - relaxes as the younger woman takes charge. Waiting for after Satiet's addressed the wingleaders, Jos calls to her, "Where do you want Aurora?"
In the bowl, to the east, Melata is a center of odd calm as she lines up her Wing, putting those who come frantically into their Wingleader's dragon's call into position. Soon firestone is coming, and soon dragons are bolting it down. "Avalanche...I've trained you better than that...it'll be just like rope drill...just don't let yourself be painting! Chewed firestone is better than whole bits: more flames!"
In the bowl, to the east, Dzurath glides across the bowl at low level, dripping oil from an interrupted oiling, heading to the lake to rinse off so that someone could actually climb up onto his neck if they wanted too...
In the bowl, to the east, Shalyn climbs onto Oenoneth's back, "C'len and Shanlee are out there without firestone. I'll bring it to them."
In the bowl, to the east, "Josilina," a glance shifts to spy out Teonath, and then turns pale eyes onto the older weyrwoman, entreaty an expression not oft seen in Satiet's face, resting there. "Teonath cannot between and...," well, she doesn't need to state the obvious, except with a tightness to her lips. "You need to lead Aurora, if not to catch the Thread that falls now, to speak with Lord Dare afterwards. Assess damage, see if they have a ground crew in place."
In the bowl, to the east, Melata passes by Charis, "Calm down, lass...you've been trained for this, even if it was never expected to happen." She continues on to Amilin, "How're they doing over here? Everyone getting firestone?"
In the bowl, to the east, Shalyn climbs up onto Oenoneth's back, as the dragon rumbles softly.
Talien just sort of freezes at the command to stay. "Thread-" A dry voice cracks. Talien tries again. "Thread's not... it's not." Unable to voice her denial, she sticks with plain demand. Thread isn't back. Coming as well is another demand, "You can't leave me! You have to stay here... you have to." Because she said so.
In the bowl, to the east, Suraiya and Ozriadasoth is in the middle of the mass chaos of riders and firestone, and she finally decides that it's time to do her duty. Especially after someone bumps into her in their rush. She spins, turning after them, and chases the other rider to the firestone sacks to grab her own. Taking two back to her lifemate, she begins to tie one one and then feed some from the other to Ozri, who had been awaiting with her maw open. "Don't get painted," she sniffs to her lifemate. "We've been trained but not for our lifetime." All joking aside, she checks her straps before mounting up, dragging the rest of the sack with her to tie up with the other.
In the bowl, to the east, Vorlin flickers an eyebrow up in an oddly amused look, "If I am trapped here, then I will make the best of it." His dark eyes sparkle with some barely contained excitement, as if he's won a lottery of some kind against all odds. "My luck to Reaches with the..storm." He describes it as the others have described it and then slowly backs a few steps towards the living caverns while he still watches the pandemonium.
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Teonath blankets the Weyr's dragons in the calm her rider seems to have let escape her. The quiet cheerleader on the ground, damn eggs: bolstering the minds of her Weyr and zipping through to ascertain the state of others to supplement through confidence where needed and sooth overeagerness in some of the youngest pairs.
In the bowl, to the east, Charis nods her head to Melata, glancing back to the darkened sky, taking a deep breath to try to calm her nerves. She looks at her former mentor, a flicker in her eyes, not having conversed together in a long time, listening to orders from both of them. Qeteth spreads his wings and bugles, the chaos around him making him twitchy and crowded. His eyes whirl brightly now, roaring at the other dragons around him. Charis pulls on the rest of her riding gear, checking the straps and the firestone sacks are secure.
In the bowl, to the east, "Of course," Josilina agrees instantly - maybe even eagerly. "Though," she casts a look around the bowl and the hasty preparations taking place, "we probably shouldn't fly out to fight until the other wings are set, at least." Her gaze lingers on a knot of Glacier riders. To Vorlin she nods, and adds, "We'll see that someone checks with you once there's time, after this, to make sure you get back to your Hold okay."
In the bowl, to the east, As the first bag of stone falls into her hands, snatched from the one carrying it out, Amilin opens her satchel, spilling a pile before Dasmareth chews as she passes it to the next rider to start stoking their dragon while additional bags are fetched, secured. That initial panic brushed off by some as the more experienced riders in the wing bark directions and give example to the less so. As Melata calls to her, Ami turns and calls back, "Some few are ready, the rest getting there. -- Do we go all together, or as we're ready, Wingleader?"
In the bowl, to the east, Melata sees that things are about as good as they are going to get, given the chaos, Melata heads over to the goldriders. There she salutes, and calmly says, "Avalanche is ready to go, at least most of it. My second Wingsecond will see the rest of the Wing is ready."
I'daur slings a sack of firestone over his shoulder, ignoring Talien's pleas. "No," is the only answer he offers, before he's tossing the sack up on Zunaeth, and moving to mount himself. "Go inside, Talien, before it starts here, too." That's the last order he offers, because he's already, cueing Zunaeth up, even as the dragon bends his neck around to take that first chunk of firestone.
In the bowl, to the east, Charis feeds Qeteth firestone, talking to him quietly, reminding him to think about what he's doing. Her eyes go out to listen and watch her Wingleaders, nevers obvious in her movements, fear in the gray eyes. She whispers to herself, "We can do this. You can do it Qeteth. You were born for this."
Well if that isn't rude, Talien has no other sufficient descriptor. Infuriated, she opens her mouth for a retort, only to snap her mouth shut. Whipping around, she stalks into the barracks. Suffice to say, it's not to clean.
In the bowl, to the east, Verenth loudly crunches firestone, crushing it with his teeth.
In the bowl, to the east, Dzurath waddles away from the lake shore, back to the main bowl.
Dragon> High Reaches dragons sense that Lhiannonth asserts her presence in support of Teonath, reaching out to those fighters with the greatest flares of panic and soothing them, taking the edges off fear, temper, and encouraging focus: calm, streamlined focus on that which they've been hatched and trained to do.
Zunaeth blinks between.