Log: Faldaverth and Sarevith's Eggs Hatch - Part 1
Who: P'draig, Piper, T'bay, P'ter, Ramya, Jenna, Selandra, S'kris, Persie, T'aren, T'hon, Leeana, Acadia, Leah, R'us, Imali, R'lashi
When: day 21, month 5, Turn 6 of the Tenth Interval.
Where: Hatching Grounds/Holding Room, Fort Weyr
What: Faldaverth's first clutch hatches at Fort and many Candidates Impress.
Hatching Grounds, ledges(#896RJh$)
Rocky ledges line the walls of the Hatching Ground, each large enough for several full-sized dragons to stretch out in comfort. Scored by thousands of years of landings, they are yet used by rider and dragon alike to watch the Hatchings on the sands below.
Leah nods to Selandra, "Of course. But if you doze off, I'm calling one of your sleeping." She waves to P'draig and the Istan rider, "Greetings! I was wondering when people would join us!"
Jenna offers waves and duties to the outweyr riders, as well as a grin for P'draig. "Did you get Piper that gown, P'draig? It really is lovely."
P'draig gives himself a bit of a shake as he descends from Jekzith's back and catches his breath then grins. "Jenna, Leah, Selandra, good evening ... and duties to Ista," says the young brownrider. "Yes, I did. Well anyway, I asked my mother to make it for her. Does that count?"
Leah considers P'draig for a moment, "Your mother made that? How wonderful!" She turns thoughtful, "Wait, isn't your father from Fort originally? Or is that someone else I'm thinking of?"
An Ista blue drops to settle on the ledges, his rider slipping down to stand by his side. "I know. I can never believe you were once in one of those either," the petite woman says, softly yet cheerfully. The blue lowers his head a little, shifting position for a better view of the Sands, then releasing a thrumming hum from his throat.
Selandra looks up and smiles. "Evening P'draig... it looks lovely dear, regardless of where it came from." she suggests. Another convivial smile is sent further afield as the aging greenrider spies more dragons alighting on the ledges. "And I'm glad we arrived early aye Abrieth?"
On the sands, Chalice of Promise Egg flutters oh so subtly at first, then gaining a very slow momentum until it is readily apparent that -something- is in there, it wants out, and now would be a very fine time of it, thank you very much.
On the sands, Faldaverth's attention leaves the blue egg instantly. Something has happened. She gives a startled bugle summoning Sarevith over, and then begins to thrum softly in her throat, the noise expanding quickly in resonance and mood. Piper startles, and blinks, "Is it...?"
On the sands, T'bay starts, standing up with enough force that his chair flops right over. He yelps hoarsely, pointing, first at random eggs, then at Sarevith. "Not funny! I thought I saw something, out of the corner of--" the dampness trailing along his forehead increases, and he blots aimlessly at it, barely whispering, "Hatching." Then a rambunctious yell as Sare takes up the call, humming for all his might, lullabyes forsaken. Time to wake up!
"Uh, yeah ... yeah he was, uh ... is," replies Paddy to Leah's question and takes a few steps closer before peering downward, one hand absently sweeping his hair back from his forehead where a slight betraying sheen indicates sweat. "Thanks Selandra - I think she looks lovely too."
Leah turns away from P'draig and looks towards the Sands, "Wait, was that something?" She leans foward, "Yes! I saw something!"
Niyath adds her humming to the rising chorus of dragon voices. Jenna leans against her queen, "Yes, yes, dear, I see them." She looks down along the row of folks to the Istan bluerider, "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name? I'm Jenna, Niyath's rider."
Cynara smiles a little to Jenna. "Ista's duties. Cynara, blue Marsath's," she adds politely to the goldrider. Fort is far from her usual stomping grounds, but when the dragons start humming and you aren't /busy/...
Jekzith is practically hanging over the edge of the ledge, throat swollen with thrumming, the brown as usual, wanting to be a part of everything and not satisfied by being -up here-. He wants to -see- better and be -nearer- the action.
Selandra sends another fond smile back at P'draig in reply, nodding gently, before Leah's words cut into her thoughts. "Aaaah, is it starting?" an answering echo to her comment is joined by Abrieth's own excited warbling, which settles in short course to a sweet thrumming.
On the sands, Piper just...laughs, "They were wrong!" she bursts out, "Again, they were wrong! A couple more sevendays, not for Fa's babies...and Sarevith's too. Jays, good thing we were trying on our clothes!
On the sands, T'bay tugs down his shirt, scowling for only half a second as his belly tries to flop out. "Boots. Boots, ow ow." He locates the boots, tugs them on with a hop hop motion, then stands almost at attention, panting and wide-eyed. "Ha ha, Faldaverth triumph again! Isn't that worth some marks? Or is she not a betting girl?" His words are all tease, the funning made of nervousness, and he grins. "Woah, look at all the people. Getting here quick--I guess word spreads fast." A little wave upwards, then he's watching that egg, and all of them, again.
From the Sands, Imali steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Imali has arrived.
From the Sands, Rhilashi steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Rhilashi has arrived.
From the Sands, Sokaris steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Sokaris has arrived.
From the Sands, Persie steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Persie has arrived.
From the Sands, Theron steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Theron has arrived.
From the Sands, P'ter arrives in a rush, tugging himself into his best jacket and trying to do up the buttons while still jogging to a halt. He pulls the material down in front to make a more comfortable fit and then inclines his head in a small bow to the clutchsires, both human and dragon alike.
From the Sands, Cyrus steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Cyrus has arrived.
From the Sands, Trusaren steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Trusaren has arrived.
From the Sands, Acadia steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Acadia has arrived.
From the Sands, Thandril steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Thandril has arrived.
From the Sands, Faldaverth pauses only long enough in her noisy serenade to reach over to whuffle the Telgari brownrider affectionately. After that, her greetings turn to the white robes filing onto the sands. Piper, too, turns and grins, joining T'bay's side, "I'm a betting girl, even if she isn't," she notes.
From the Sands, As one, the candiates enter the Hatching Grounds, doing a skip-hop that is normal to all the candidates as they turn to Piper, Faldrvath, T'bay, and Sarevith. They all bow, and gradually disintergrate from a large group to many small groups by the eggs, anticipating the hatching of the eggs.
Jekzith> On the sands, Sarevith has scooted himself back just far enough to be able to watch all the eggs, and his eyes whirl intently at each, not knowing which will move next. He continues the humming, intensified with pride, while T'bay grins sheepishly at Faldaverth's affection. "Aww. I'll miss you too, Fa." Then brown and brownrider are watching the candidates, fascinated, then are surveying the still eggs for only the briefest of moments before one is still no longer.
Chalice of Promise Egg seems to groan, the sound of grinding metal plates an incongruous echo that crescendoes until the bronze sphere is unable to contain the fire raging within, and it crumbles abruptly and turns to mere grains of multicolored dust. The Childlike Exuberant Green, now freed, raises her head and stares, wide-eyed, at the world around her, blithe and joyous. Her earliest steps are clumsy, and she rolls over her own feet before righting herself and selecting her life's partner: a brown haired trader girl whose intent expression never wavers, though her green eyes light with excitement. "Oh, Oraloreth. We'll explore this whole wide world, together!" Immediately, an assistant to the Weyrlingmaster leads the first pair to Impress from Faldaverth's first hatching, the weepy-eyed, joyous Pachet and her new lifemate, from the sands.
From the Sands, Sarevith has scooted himself back just far enough to be able to watch all the eggs, and his eyes whirl intently at each, not knowing which will move next. He continues the humming, intensified with pride, while T'bay grins sheepishly at Faldaverth's affection. "Aww. I'll miss you too, Fa." Then brown and brownrider are watching the candidates, fascinated, then are surveying the still eggs for only the briefest of moments before one is still no longer.
Chalice of Promise Egg seems to groan, the sound of grinding metal plates an incongruous echo that crescendoes until the bronze sphere is unable to contain the fire raging within, and it crumbles abruptly and turns to mere grains of multicolored dust. The Childlike Exuberant Green, now freed, raises her head and stares, wide-eyed, at the world around her, blithe and joyous. Her earliest steps are clumsy, and she rolls over her own feet before righting herself and selecting her life's partner: a brown haired trader girl whose intent expression never wavers, though her green eyes light with excitement. "Oh, Oraloreth. We'll explore this whole wide world, together!" Immediately, an assistant to the Weyrlingmaster leads the first pair to Impress from Faldaverth's first hatching, the weepy-eyed, joyous Pachet and her new lifemate, from the sands.
From the Sands, Scurvy and Pox Egg shudders free of the sands piled around it, cracks beginning to glaze across its surface as the dragonet inside begins to pound its way out through sheer determination.
From the Sands, Piper blinks in astonishment as first Impression occurs so quickly, "Look, T'bay...that's Pachet...wasn't she on your dodge team?" she grins, "And brown, too! Is Sare happy?"
From the Sands, Rhilashi watches the eggs in amazement and horror, afraid to move an inch. He breathes deeply to try to loosen himself up. "Congrats Pachet!"
From the Sands, Sokaris lets out a shaky breath when he sees Pachet impress. "Oh. Oh /my/.", he can be heard to whisper by those nearest to him. His feet begin to move, shuffling anxiously already. "Faster than I ever imagined ..."
From the Sands, Persie slips over towards Cyrus and Sokaris, her hands gripping the 'skirt' of her robe as if holding it down. "I feel naked out here in this thing with all these people watching," she hushes to them, teeth pressing into her lip. The hatching and impression doesn't seem to have sunk in yet.
From the Sands, Scurvy and Pox Egg stills for a moment, and then a bulge appears on one of the blue 'bruises' on the shell. It seems as though the occupant is going to force its way out in one spot. Fragments of shell litter the sands around it as the hatchling struggles to get out, Out, OUT!
From the Sands, Cyrus stumbles, too busy staring as Pachet's picked out of the line almost before she's even upright from bowing. "Good grief," he chokes, indifferent to his own poor mode of dress even as he catches up enough to give Persie a faint grin. "I dunno," he mumbles, "if it had a belt or some trim or something you could dress it up all right." On the sands: good time to find your feet with the girl.
From the Sands, T'bay claps his hands, then his fist pumps the air even as Sarevith's resounding trumpet sounds. "Hah, they did it! They really did! Came right out of the egg and picked someone, sure as the star stones. Look at that, Piper, a healthy one, too!" Color is the last thing on this bettor's mind, as he's dumbfoundedly staring at the shards of the first egg to open.
From the Sands, Imali claps a hand to her mouth, staring at the Scurvy and Pox egg. "OH my." She whispers, her eyes as wide as glasses.
From the Sands, Trusaren's jaw drops, and he mutters an oath which unfortunately isn't so much a mutter as a fairly loud syllable. "That was so fast," he marvels to Sokaris, near whom he's arranged himself. "I thought it'd be more of a /whaaaah/ type thing." He sings out the tone, about as well as one might have suspected he could, as if imitating a whole choir singing the story of some really famous rider's life.
From the Sands, Theron finds himself near Rhilashi, as luck would have it, and is taken aback by how quickly everything seems to be happening. Nevertheless, he calls and waves his congratulations as it all happens, trying to remember all the advice given. "An' don't ye forget t' duck an' doge, now," he says in an undertone to Rhilashi. "Just in case."
When: day 21, month 5, Turn 6 of the Tenth Interval.
Where: Hatching Grounds/Holding Room, Fort Weyr
What: Faldaverth's first clutch hatches at Fort and many Candidates Impress.
Hatching Grounds, ledges(#896RJh$)
Rocky ledges line the walls of the Hatching Ground, each large enough for several full-sized dragons to stretch out in comfort. Scored by thousands of years of landings, they are yet used by rider and dragon alike to watch the Hatchings on the sands below.
Leah nods to Selandra, "Of course. But if you doze off, I'm calling one of your sleeping." She waves to P'draig and the Istan rider, "Greetings! I was wondering when people would join us!"
Jenna offers waves and duties to the outweyr riders, as well as a grin for P'draig. "Did you get Piper that gown, P'draig? It really is lovely."
P'draig gives himself a bit of a shake as he descends from Jekzith's back and catches his breath then grins. "Jenna, Leah, Selandra, good evening ... and duties to Ista," says the young brownrider. "Yes, I did. Well anyway, I asked my mother to make it for her. Does that count?"
Leah considers P'draig for a moment, "Your mother made that? How wonderful!" She turns thoughtful, "Wait, isn't your father from Fort originally? Or is that someone else I'm thinking of?"
An Ista blue drops to settle on the ledges, his rider slipping down to stand by his side. "I know. I can never believe you were once in one of those either," the petite woman says, softly yet cheerfully. The blue lowers his head a little, shifting position for a better view of the Sands, then releasing a thrumming hum from his throat.
Selandra looks up and smiles. "Evening P'draig... it looks lovely dear, regardless of where it came from." she suggests. Another convivial smile is sent further afield as the aging greenrider spies more dragons alighting on the ledges. "And I'm glad we arrived early aye Abrieth?"
On the sands, Chalice of Promise Egg flutters oh so subtly at first, then gaining a very slow momentum until it is readily apparent that -something- is in there, it wants out, and now would be a very fine time of it, thank you very much.
On the sands, Faldaverth's attention leaves the blue egg instantly. Something has happened. She gives a startled bugle summoning Sarevith over, and then begins to thrum softly in her throat, the noise expanding quickly in resonance and mood. Piper startles, and blinks, "Is it...?"
On the sands, T'bay starts, standing up with enough force that his chair flops right over. He yelps hoarsely, pointing, first at random eggs, then at Sarevith. "Not funny! I thought I saw something, out of the corner of--" the dampness trailing along his forehead increases, and he blots aimlessly at it, barely whispering, "Hatching." Then a rambunctious yell as Sare takes up the call, humming for all his might, lullabyes forsaken. Time to wake up!
"Uh, yeah ... yeah he was, uh ... is," replies Paddy to Leah's question and takes a few steps closer before peering downward, one hand absently sweeping his hair back from his forehead where a slight betraying sheen indicates sweat. "Thanks Selandra - I think she looks lovely too."
Leah turns away from P'draig and looks towards the Sands, "Wait, was that something?" She leans foward, "Yes! I saw something!"
Niyath adds her humming to the rising chorus of dragon voices. Jenna leans against her queen, "Yes, yes, dear, I see them." She looks down along the row of folks to the Istan bluerider, "I'm sorry, I didn't get your name? I'm Jenna, Niyath's rider."
Cynara smiles a little to Jenna. "Ista's duties. Cynara, blue Marsath's," she adds politely to the goldrider. Fort is far from her usual stomping grounds, but when the dragons start humming and you aren't /busy/...
Jekzith is practically hanging over the edge of the ledge, throat swollen with thrumming, the brown as usual, wanting to be a part of everything and not satisfied by being -up here-. He wants to -see- better and be -nearer- the action.
Selandra sends another fond smile back at P'draig in reply, nodding gently, before Leah's words cut into her thoughts. "Aaaah, is it starting?" an answering echo to her comment is joined by Abrieth's own excited warbling, which settles in short course to a sweet thrumming.
On the sands, Piper just...laughs, "They were wrong!" she bursts out, "Again, they were wrong! A couple more sevendays, not for Fa's babies...and Sarevith's too. Jays, good thing we were trying on our clothes!
On the sands, T'bay tugs down his shirt, scowling for only half a second as his belly tries to flop out. "Boots. Boots, ow ow." He locates the boots, tugs them on with a hop hop motion, then stands almost at attention, panting and wide-eyed. "Ha ha, Faldaverth triumph again! Isn't that worth some marks? Or is she not a betting girl?" His words are all tease, the funning made of nervousness, and he grins. "Woah, look at all the people. Getting here quick--I guess word spreads fast." A little wave upwards, then he's watching that egg, and all of them, again.
From the Sands, Imali steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Imali has arrived.
From the Sands, Rhilashi steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Rhilashi has arrived.
From the Sands, Sokaris steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Sokaris has arrived.
From the Sands, Persie steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Persie has arrived.
From the Sands, Theron steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Theron has arrived.
From the Sands, P'ter arrives in a rush, tugging himself into his best jacket and trying to do up the buttons while still jogging to a halt. He pulls the material down in front to make a more comfortable fit and then inclines his head in a small bow to the clutchsires, both human and dragon alike.
From the Sands, Cyrus steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Cyrus has arrived.
From the Sands, Trusaren steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Trusaren has arrived.
From the Sands, Acadia steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Acadia has arrived.
From the Sands, Thandril steps out onto the sands.
From the Sands, Thandril has arrived.
From the Sands, Faldaverth pauses only long enough in her noisy serenade to reach over to whuffle the Telgari brownrider affectionately. After that, her greetings turn to the white robes filing onto the sands. Piper, too, turns and grins, joining T'bay's side, "I'm a betting girl, even if she isn't," she notes.
From the Sands, As one, the candiates enter the Hatching Grounds, doing a skip-hop that is normal to all the candidates as they turn to Piper, Faldrvath, T'bay, and Sarevith. They all bow, and gradually disintergrate from a large group to many small groups by the eggs, anticipating the hatching of the eggs.
Jekzith> On the sands, Sarevith has scooted himself back just far enough to be able to watch all the eggs, and his eyes whirl intently at each, not knowing which will move next. He continues the humming, intensified with pride, while T'bay grins sheepishly at Faldaverth's affection. "Aww. I'll miss you too, Fa." Then brown and brownrider are watching the candidates, fascinated, then are surveying the still eggs for only the briefest of moments before one is still no longer.
Chalice of Promise Egg seems to groan, the sound of grinding metal plates an incongruous echo that crescendoes until the bronze sphere is unable to contain the fire raging within, and it crumbles abruptly and turns to mere grains of multicolored dust. The Childlike Exuberant Green, now freed, raises her head and stares, wide-eyed, at the world around her, blithe and joyous. Her earliest steps are clumsy, and she rolls over her own feet before righting herself and selecting her life's partner: a brown haired trader girl whose intent expression never wavers, though her green eyes light with excitement. "Oh, Oraloreth. We'll explore this whole wide world, together!" Immediately, an assistant to the Weyrlingmaster leads the first pair to Impress from Faldaverth's first hatching, the weepy-eyed, joyous Pachet and her new lifemate, from the sands.
From the Sands, Sarevith has scooted himself back just far enough to be able to watch all the eggs, and his eyes whirl intently at each, not knowing which will move next. He continues the humming, intensified with pride, while T'bay grins sheepishly at Faldaverth's affection. "Aww. I'll miss you too, Fa." Then brown and brownrider are watching the candidates, fascinated, then are surveying the still eggs for only the briefest of moments before one is still no longer.
Chalice of Promise Egg seems to groan, the sound of grinding metal plates an incongruous echo that crescendoes until the bronze sphere is unable to contain the fire raging within, and it crumbles abruptly and turns to mere grains of multicolored dust. The Childlike Exuberant Green, now freed, raises her head and stares, wide-eyed, at the world around her, blithe and joyous. Her earliest steps are clumsy, and she rolls over her own feet before righting herself and selecting her life's partner: a brown haired trader girl whose intent expression never wavers, though her green eyes light with excitement. "Oh, Oraloreth. We'll explore this whole wide world, together!" Immediately, an assistant to the Weyrlingmaster leads the first pair to Impress from Faldaverth's first hatching, the weepy-eyed, joyous Pachet and her new lifemate, from the sands.
From the Sands, Scurvy and Pox Egg shudders free of the sands piled around it, cracks beginning to glaze across its surface as the dragonet inside begins to pound its way out through sheer determination.
From the Sands, Piper blinks in astonishment as first Impression occurs so quickly, "Look, T'bay...that's Pachet...wasn't she on your dodge team?" she grins, "And brown, too! Is Sare happy?"
From the Sands, Rhilashi watches the eggs in amazement and horror, afraid to move an inch. He breathes deeply to try to loosen himself up. "Congrats Pachet!"
From the Sands, Sokaris lets out a shaky breath when he sees Pachet impress. "Oh. Oh /my/.", he can be heard to whisper by those nearest to him. His feet begin to move, shuffling anxiously already. "Faster than I ever imagined ..."
From the Sands, Persie slips over towards Cyrus and Sokaris, her hands gripping the 'skirt' of her robe as if holding it down. "I feel naked out here in this thing with all these people watching," she hushes to them, teeth pressing into her lip. The hatching and impression doesn't seem to have sunk in yet.
From the Sands, Scurvy and Pox Egg stills for a moment, and then a bulge appears on one of the blue 'bruises' on the shell. It seems as though the occupant is going to force its way out in one spot. Fragments of shell litter the sands around it as the hatchling struggles to get out, Out, OUT!
From the Sands, Cyrus stumbles, too busy staring as Pachet's picked out of the line almost before she's even upright from bowing. "Good grief," he chokes, indifferent to his own poor mode of dress even as he catches up enough to give Persie a faint grin. "I dunno," he mumbles, "if it had a belt or some trim or something you could dress it up all right." On the sands: good time to find your feet with the girl.
From the Sands, T'bay claps his hands, then his fist pumps the air even as Sarevith's resounding trumpet sounds. "Hah, they did it! They really did! Came right out of the egg and picked someone, sure as the star stones. Look at that, Piper, a healthy one, too!" Color is the last thing on this bettor's mind, as he's dumbfoundedly staring at the shards of the first egg to open.
From the Sands, Imali claps a hand to her mouth, staring at the Scurvy and Pox egg. "OH my." She whispers, her eyes as wide as glasses.
From the Sands, Trusaren's jaw drops, and he mutters an oath which unfortunately isn't so much a mutter as a fairly loud syllable. "That was so fast," he marvels to Sokaris, near whom he's arranged himself. "I thought it'd be more of a /whaaaah/ type thing." He sings out the tone, about as well as one might have suspected he could, as if imitating a whole choir singing the story of some really famous rider's life.
From the Sands, Theron finds himself near Rhilashi, as luck would have it, and is taken aback by how quickly everything seems to be happening. Nevertheless, he calls and waves his congratulations as it all happens, trying to remember all the advice given. "An' don't ye forget t' duck an' doge, now," he says in an undertone to Rhilashi. "Just in case."