Aldesia Weyr Announcements

[Aria]

Oraith kept shifting around uncomfortably, her egg-filled belly bugling. Finally, she couldn't take it anymore, she had to go lay now. Sormai was out, going over weyr buisness, so Oraith didn't bother mentioning it to her as she fell off the weyr ledge and glided into the vast cavern of the Hatching Sands. The late afternoon sunlight filtered in from the spacious opening above. The sands were warm and had been well maintained. Oraith hobbled over the far end of the cavern and began shuffling around the sand.

After a hour or so, contractions began rippling the gold queen's hide and she suddenly stopped her fussing, standing very still, eyes whirling a slow mixture of orange and yellow. With a faint groan, she laid her first egg, the wet, soft creamy shell glistening in the light. There was temporary relief for the queen, but it was short lived as the contractions started again, her body pushing out another egg.

By nightfall, Oraith laid curled around 16 perfect eggs, her hide dull from exhaustion. She prummed, quite pleased with herself.

[Aria]

((This occurs a sevenday after Oraith has clutched))

"Open the gates!! Cerosia Hold's tithe is here!" a herald shouted from the top of the gate. The watch dragon's roar welcomed them as the gate was pulled open, allowing the caraven to enter the valley Aldesia Weyr called home. The sun was setting as the tithe caravan traveled into the weyr, the gate shutting tight behind them with a loud, sullen thud. When they reached the Weyr Bowl, Sormai, along with some riders, were waiting. The man leading the tithe gave a curt bow. "Evening Weyrwoman." Sormai inclined her head. "Good evening. My, Cerosia's tithe is a bit early this time." The man only nodded, remaining silent. Sormai smiled. "No need to be so stiff, we are allies. I'll have rooms prepared for you and your men in the Lower Caverns so you may rest for the night. Do you have a list of your inventory?" He nodded again and handed her a rolled up skin. "Thank you. We'll go over it in the morning. Please, make yourself at home." Sormai gave a slight bow and returned back to her own weyr. The riders escorted the men to the Lower Caverns and rooms were quickly made up and given to them.

Late into the evening, several shadowy figures emerged from the wagons, having hidden themselves under the tarps and passing by unnoticed since the wagons had yet been inspected. 8 figures stole towards the Hatching Sands, where Oraith slept, her massive golden body around her precious clutch. The walked in as quietly as possible, not wanting the queen to detect their presence too soon. They came close to the clutch, a dull sheen cast on the semi-soft shells by the twin moons. From under their dark cloaks, they drew clubs and they attacked! As soon as the first egg was broken open with a loud crack, Oraith's eyes snapped open, glowing bright red in the darkness. Her scream echoed through the weyr as she rose and lashed her tail out at those attacking her precious eggs. HELP!!!! HELP!!! THE EGGS ARE BEING ATTACKED!!!! An alarm immediately rose and the weyr was alive with activity.

[KittyWitch]

(( Shatrask to the rescue! )

With a great roar, a golden figure hurtled through the entrance. She was not as large as Oraith, oh no, but she was far more willing to kill. DO NOT TOUCH COUSINS EGGS! Shatask bellowed, sinking her fangs into the arm of one man. Blood spilled upon the sands, mixing with the fluids of the broken egg. BAD! BAD MEN! SHATRASK KILL! she screamed, releasing the first man, who fell into a fetal position, nursing his mangled arm. She grabbed another man, club raised to strike a second egg, by the neck. The wher shook him like a rag doll, and there was an audible snap as his neck broke. The golden wher's eyes whirled red with fury and bloodlust as she crouched to launch a new attack. The men were surprised. The men were coming after her with clubs. How dare they! With a resounding crack, a club came down on the golden wher's extended forelimb. She keened in pain, then smashed the club that had hurt her between her jaws. She was about to go for the man who had held it when Shatrana came stumbling through the entrance.

The moonlight made her look like a goddess, illuminating the hair that rimmed her heart-shaped face, making it glow like a silver curtain. Glows in the hallways also gave her an aura. She was a wild goddess, trying to control a wild thing. Shatrask no! Don't kill! The eggs! Protect the eggs! Shatrana ordered. She stayed in the entrance, because she had nothing to fight with. She and her wher had been on a walk when the cries for help came. Shatrask had gone hurtling off, making it to the Sands rapidly on her two-toed feet. And now she had blood on the mind. Nobody threatened her cousins! But she had to protect the eggs. And Hers told her to. So, with a cry of definece, she lept over the heads of the men, landing in front of the eggs, creeling softly as the impact jarred her injured leg. Let them try to touch the eggs! Shatrask would tear them to pieces!

[Aria]

"Break those eggs!!" one man shouted, smashing another to pieces. Oraith's tail sent a man hurtling into the rock wall with a resounding crack. Sormai had run out into a overseeing ledge, watching the scene in horror. Four eggs had been smashed open, three of them now dead. Oraith's rage and sorrow coursed through her, adding to her own. "I WANT PRISONERS!! LEAVE THE REST ALIVE!!" She screamed down.

---

Black Saber tackled another man down, sabers ripping the weapon from his hand. Samdari and Terra took on another. The Weyrwoman's scream rung out over the noise and Samdari decked the guy he was wrestling with, knocking him out cold. "Stun them if you can!"

---

The men who had brought the caravan ran out of the caverns and grabbed some runnerbeasts and spurred them towards the gate, but found their way blocked by Eva and the rest of Crimson Glory Wing. "I don't think so. We've got questions for all of you." The wing surrounded the men and the runnerbeasts, preventing any escape. The men had no choice but to give up, dismounting and raising their hands in surrender. "Tie their hands together and hold them in an empty stable until the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader are ready to deal with them." Eva ordered.

[KittyWitch]

Shatrask began keening, the sound rough and gravelly from pain. Her leg hung at an odd angle, and the was a cut on her sensite nose from a flying eggshard. Shatrask sorry. Shatrask lay more eggs for cousin? the wher whimpered pleadingly, looking up at the great queen with whirling gray eyes. She nudged at a dead hatchling, the form barely recognizable. So young... She growled angrily at the men who had been taken prisoner. Nobody effed with these eggs! Nobody! Hissing, eyes now a red color, she lunged at a man who tried to escape, sinking long, sharp fangs that were not very clen into his calf. The man screamed, and dropped his club, which Shatrask kicked out of the way contemptuously. Shatrask kill him now. Egg-breaker. He dies. she hissed at her Bonded, but withheld the final blow. The queen had said do not kill.

But she was a queen, too. She could do as she pleased. Shatrana reached out, gasping, "No!" just as Shatrask's head swooped down to tear the man's throat out. Screaming defience of her Bonded, the gold wher thrashed, ripping bloody furrows in the skin of her prisoner. But Shatrana had the stronger mind, and Shatrask stopped.

[Perception]

He came as fast as he could manage, his runnerbeast not quite sure of his step in such absence of lighting. But he could not think of that, treachery was in the air, and he had been unable to stop it. They were attacking the Dragonriders. Attacking the very eggs that would some day hatch and become great dragons, as all others on Pern. They wanted the Weyr to fall and to wither into nothing.

But Veridan didn't want that. He could not understand the loathing his father had for the Dragonriders even when he was young. The older man had simply assumed that his offspring would share his hate of them for no apparent reason. And so far the man had been correct, at least in part, for Veridan's three younger sisters. He was incorrect about Veridan, who adored the tales of heroes a-dragonback. The ballads of Moreta and Faranth, so long ago and yet still so honorable.

When Veridan had heard that the tithing caravan would be an attack, a coldhearted strike to the very hearts of the Weyr that would be unsuspecting and open towards the men who were to be their killers, he had decided to stop them. He rode his beast fast and hard until he met up with the caravan and demanded that they return home. He wanted them to bring a proper tithe to the Weyr, not simply a death knell.

One man has never been the match for a score of men, and they made it certain for themselves that he would not be riding after them to tell of the trespass and ruin their cover. Leaving him there in the bushes, spooking his beast away they had been sure he would not follow.

However, Veridan was never a quitter when it came to things he believed in. When he regained consciousness and saw Smokey standing near him idly chewing on the grass that surrounded him, Veridan had done what only he would do after such a display of betrayal. He mounted the runnerbeast in the swiftest way possible, ignoring the calls from his own body, and turned the reins toward the Weyr, nudging the beast into a full blown gallop.

He seemed to be right on their heels, half a day following them, doing all that he could to remain in the saddle. His knuckles were white from clutching the reins, Veridan could only use his rage to keep him and Smokey going forward to the Weyr, still doing their best to thwart his father's plan.

When they arrived, the hour was late, and the gates were shut. Because of the hour or because of the treason? He did not know, sidestepping Smokey right to the gate he beat on it with closed fists, calling out, "Dragonriders, it is a trap!" he screamed, though he was unsure if his voice carried. He couldn't see well in the lighting, but was that a dragon above him? Far above him in the sky? Dragons had such poor night-eyesight he wondered what could have possibly driven the dragon to flight in such an hour.

Only momentarily distracted, something that seemed to be easier to do in his current physical condition, Veridan went back to beating on the gates so hard that his fists became bloody from the mere force of it, calling out at the top of his lungs to be listened to, for he needed to warn the Dragonriders of what was to come before it was too late!




((Sorry, VERY long I know =/ Hopefully it got through some of the emotions though T_T It sounded a lot cooler in my head))

[Aria]

Gilan and Gilask were on gate duty and heard the pounding and shouting at the gate, opening a small side door. "Shards man, do you have any idea what time it is? What's this business about a trap?" Gilask began hissing, lips pulled back in a an angry snarl, tail lashing back and forth. Egg Killers, Egg Killers!!! Oraith's clutch was hurt by egg killers!! The brown wher snarled, head whipping back towards the direction of the Hatching Sands. Gilan grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and slammed him up against the wall. "What do you know of this?!"

--

Once the fighting had stopped, Oraith curled tightly around her damaged clutch. 6 eggs had been destroyed. Her eyes whirled pale grey and her hide lost some of its golden luster as she threw one wing over what remained, crying softly in sorrow. Sormai made her way down to the Hatching Sands, tear streaks on her cheeks, glaring at the men hatefully. "Take them to the Lower Caverns. I want two whers guarding them at ALL times. Get the dead ones out of here... and clean up the sands as best you can...." She went to Oraith and hugged the gold's large muzzle as best she could, sobbing.

[Perception]

Pulling Veridan from his runner and slamming him into the wall was no difficult task. His body was going numb around him, part from his injuries, part from the long and hard ride to the Weyr, but mostly due to his anger. The emotion was draining him dry at the moment. And once he was in clear sight in front of the wherhandler, it was clearly evident just how injured he was.

A large gash split his face open, on the left side, from his cheek to somewhere in his hairline, curling a length in the red mass making the hair clump together and seem a more vibrant red. Blood had dripped down his face, into his eye even, but although it still seemed to be bleeding it was much slower now than it had been, most of the blood dry and caked onto his pale skin. His face sported a few other bruises as well. His knuckles were bleeding as well, raw almost to the bones, evident that he had fought back as hard as he could, these wounds paling the ones he had just inflicted upon himself attempting to be heard through the heavy gates of the Weyr.

His arms hung limp at his side, his left one obviously cut and scraped, though not nearly as horribly as his face had been. His left leg, too was injured, the legs of his trousers drenched in blood, a large slash visible there as well. They had made sure that he could not follow them on runnerbeast. But somehow he had managed to mount the runner and stay in the saddle as he ran to the Weyr. The evidence of how hard they had run plain to see on the beast, panting as it was, its sides expanding and contracting so fast it was a wonder the beast hadn't already died from the activity.

But Veridan didn't fight the man who now held his shirt, pulling the material down to reveal bruises at his throat where someone else had grabbed him previously this day. Instead he stood there, his blue eyes blazing into the eyes of this other man, anger and devestation mixing into their depths. "I am too late," he said. He had meant it as a question, but he had seen how the brown wher had reacted. He knew the truth. "Did they destroy all of them?" he asked. His voice was raw, but there was still such a need to know there, such sorrow and hatred.

Veridan had no need or cause to fight this man, but he needed to know what had happened. He needed to know if the dragonriders would survive, and he needed to know how deep the blade had cut the Weyr.

[KittyWitch]

(( Thanks for ignoring my post. Let's try this again, shall we? ))

Shatrask began keening, the sound rough and gravelly from pain. Her leg hung at an odd angle, and the was a cut on her sensite nose from a flying eggshard. Shatrask sorry. Shatrask lay more eggs for cousin? the wher whimpered pleadingly, looking up at the great queen with whirling gray eyes.
She nudged at a dead hatchling, the form barely recognizable. So young...

The queen wher growled angrily at the men who had been taken prisoner. Nobody messed with these eggs! Nobody! Hissing, eyes now a red color, she lunged at a man who tried to escape, sinking long, sharp fangs that were not very clean into his calf. The man screamed, and dropped his club, which Shatrask kicked out of the way contemptuously. Shatrask kill him now. Egg-breaker. He dies. she hissed at her Bonded, but withheld the final blow. The queen had said do not kill.

But she was a queen, too. She could do as she pleased. Shatrana reached out, gasping, "No!" just as Shatrask's head swooped down to tear the man's throat out. Screaming defience of her Bonded, the gold wher thrashed, ripping bloody furrows in the skin of her prisoner.

But Shatrana had the stronger mind, and Shatrask stopped, breathing heavily, frothing at the mouth like a rabid canine. Kill him! Break him open like dead eggs! Bad bad BAD!! Shatrask shrilled, tail whipping.

Shatrask guard eggs for cousin! No man touch cousin's eggs! the gold wher announced, stepping off the bleeding body of the unconcious prisoner, to stand by the eggs again. She wrapped her thick body around the clutch at best she could, growling at everyone and everything except the mother of the clutch.

[Aria]

((Sorry about that, didn't mean to ignore your post /facepalm))

Shatrana and Shatrask

Samdari dragged the wounded prisoner away as the wher retreated. Terra and Black Saber both bared their fangs, but a stern command for Samdari made them hold back. He looked at the wher trying to wrap protectively around the gold dragon's clutch, then turned to her handler. "You should get your wher looked at. I'll fetch a wher healer for you." He left the two felines to stand guard as he sprinted across the Weyrbowl to the Infirmary and found a few healers to help. He brought them back as fast as he could. "Tend to any of our wounded first, these men can wait a bit longer." Samdari led the wher healer back to the felines. She looked at Shatrana, "Will you wher permit me to come close? I don't want to get my hand bitten off... or worse."

[KittyWitch]

Yes... But Shatrask not leave cousin's eggs. Bad men get no more. Shatrask spoke directly to the healer, and inched forward, extending her broken limb.

Shatrana gave a sigh of relief. "Let me through, you hairballs. She's my wher," the weaver growled at the felines who barred her path. She did not speak to the wher healer, because Shatrask had not told her she was being spoke to. There was no way for her to tell who was talking to who without her wher.

Whn the felines let her pass, Shatrana raced up to Shatrask. "Oh, baby, you were so brave," she murmered as she cradeled the great head in her lap. Shatrana gave a growling croon.

(( 'S okay. ))

[Midnight]

Wrath heard Oraith's enraged and terrified call and woke his rider, his eyes sparking deep red in the darkness. V'darat jumped to his dragon's back, and they flew to the sands, but it was already too late when they got there. V'darat, his hand still clenched around his dagger, swore under his breath as Wrath took up Oraith's pained keen. The shattered eggs were horrible to look at, and as he swung down from Wrath's back he caught sight of the small, dead hatchlings lying on the sands. Both rage and sorrow welled up within him, and it was hard to resist sobbing, hitting someone, or both.

Wrath edged towards Oraith and nuzzled his mate, his eyes whirling grey with sorrow. I am so sorry, my love. Whoever did this will be punished, and the rest of our children will not be harmed, he promised solemnly. Walking over to Sormai, V'darat laid an awkward hand on her shoulder, knowing nothing could comfort her now. "I'm sorry we were too late," he said, his voice cracking a little.

[Aria]

V'darat and Wrath

Sormai looked up at V'darat sadly, then threw herself on him and kept crying. "Why? Why would he do such a thing?" She sobbed. Oraith raised her head alittle, eyes and hide dull, returning Wrath's affection with a weak croon.

---

Veridan
Gilan let go of the young man. "Jays, you need a healer." He pulled him along and practically tossed him up onto Gilask's back, mounting up behind him. "To the Infirmary Gilask, and hurry." Gilask took off as fast as whers do, even with the extra burden on his back, and made it to the Infirmary within a few minutes. "I need a healer!" Gilan shouted, helping Veridan to a nearby bed. "Better get settled in, as soon as the healer is done with you, I've got questions for you."

[Perception]

Veridan was surprised with the turn in the man. Not completely, but obviously something was different. He didn't really fight off being put on the wher, didn't make a sound as the thing carried him and his handler to the Infirmary. He was silent as the man then helped him to a bed inside the infirmary.

But he did not sit down on the bed. Instead he stared at the man, he still needed to know. His heart seemed still in his chest as he watched the face of this man, informing him that there would be questions. "I do not need to be healed to speak," he said defiantly. His eyes were set as he looked at the man, not afraid to meet anyone's gaze. "You may ask your questions, sir, I will answer all that I can."

Veridan stood there, not looking to the bed, though he wavered on his feet silghtly, shifting to put more weight on his good leg than on his bad one. If he could manage to stay atop a beast for the ride that they had had, he could manage to stand on his own two feet. He was stubborn that way, didn't like to show weakness. Weakness wasn't something to parade about, wasn't anything worth praise. There was no purpose for weakness and Veridan would be strong. He would take any damnation the Weyr had for him. They deserved to be angry, to strike out. The blow had been cold and calculated, straight for their heart. When hit from behind or the side, one often struck out blindly.

[Aria]

Veridan

"What do you know of this attack on our queen's clutch?" Gilan growled, Gilask hissing hatefully at the man, wanting to kill him. "Talk fast, wher's are not known for their patience."

((Fail post, sorry)